another one of THOSE days...

  Yep, it has been one of those days. One of those AMAZING days when something happens with DF and I freak out. Again and again.
  Today was the day of the Christmas dance. A year ago at the Christmas dance was when DF and I really started our fantastic relationship. Before that, we were friends. Since then, we've been best friends. So today, I was really excited to spend the dance with him again.
   But then he came into the library (we hang out in there during it because it's quieter) with a checkout slip. He was leaving. I knew that my face fell a little bit when he told me that I 
had a whole five minutes with him instead of an hour.
  Then, I decided to go to the computer. He came with me, and I looked at my sister's blog. The blog with the picture of the baby named after my cousin. He knew something was wrong, so I just told him that she wasn't the first girl with the name. He understood, I think.
  Then, as I waited for a page to load, he said merry Christmas, and I heard a thunk. There, on the table, was a brand new copy of one of my favorite books, Impulse. I had been trying to get my hands on a copy, though he didn't know that. 
  Then he left. After a minute of sitting and writing poems about how excited I was, it occurred to me that there was obviously going to be a note inside of the book. I waited until nearly the end of the dance to read it, and it was great.
  Because it was mainly about him. Usually, we talk about me. I hate that, but I'm in a terrible habit of it. This letter was about him, how he was reacting to his family, and that he wanted to hear me speak with my southern accent. That was it. But it was what I needed, what I still need.
  I just love him.
  So I've decided that he's getting his present in the week after Christmas. It'll be a CD, of course, but I'm going to put a little bit of myself on it at the end. And I think I'll put in two letters, one in our usual style and one that tells him the serious stuff: the story of my dad, and the story of my cousin.
  I know that's really heavy for me, but we need it. I'm also going to put that he can ask me any question, because he really can. I feel totally comfortable telling him anything that's important.
  I just love him.  

P.S. For some reason, the formatting is all weird with the last letters on the next line in some words. Sorry. My computer doesn't like to fix things.

another thing...

I don't remember if I've ever mentioned my dad...but this is what he'll be like soon, since my sister and I have already seen most, if not all, of the warning signs, in him.


Now I can't get the link to work...just go to youtube.com or sheltonfilms.com - it's called my name is lisa.

saddened

  No, this isn't another DF update. This isn't a merry Christmas or generic happy holidays post. This is me sad.
  A girl I knew last year, a girl I talked to, who was really nice, who shared my first name, was in my gym class, moved away over the summer to Texas. And today I found out that she has cancer. Throughout her whole body. They can't do anything, and they just have to let her die. She's my age. And she's dying of cancer. If she were here, I would just hug her. I can't believe this is happening. She was so nice to me last year, and now she'll be gone.
  This reminds me of my cousin. When she was five years old, she was sick and they took her to the doctor. She was diagnosed with leukemia and died a year later. Her battle was so hard. Even though I was too young to know her then, you could feel the gap in the family when she died. You can still feel it. I talk to her older sister sometimes, and I can still feel the gap that was left by such a little girl. Even though I was three when she died, I knew what was going on. Various pictures of her bald grace my extended family's houses. We all miss her.
  My cousin, one of her older sisters, just had a baby girl about two weeks ago. And she named her after her sister, this girl who I never knew. Their brother died as just a baby, and I had another little cousin who died after my aunt and uncle tried for so long to have a baby. Their second adopted child still says that she's the middle child, after that little sister that she never really knew.
  So I guess that death is on my mind right now.

And for the completely random note...

  I just got a TON of new music. Here is who you should be listening to that I am now listening to:

the new Jimmy Eat World album (Chase This Light)
most of the new Gregory and the Hawk album (In Your Dreams)
Cake. (especially Wheels and Short Skirt/Long Jacket)
Seal (kiss from a rose)
Dashboard Confessional (I just got Vindicated)
ALLY JAY ( my new favorite country singer. not that I really like country that much.)
Colbie Caillat (occasionally, for the girly times)

But on the sadder note of today...

  DF and I were talking about this snobby girl in choir. And he said that the girl had gone out with a guy in his ward. Here's his next words:
  "And Mormons aren't even supposed to go out with people until they're sixteen."
  I was really sad. I figured that those were his standards, but I was never sure. I figured that 
there was always a little hope for us. It turns out that there's not. Well, there is in two years and nine months when he turns sixteen.
  But I'm sad because I know myself. I'm not going to wait that long. This is the longest I've held a crush, but I won't last that long.
  And how do I know? Because today I was wavering toward Tim. After one small comment.
  I guess that I'm trying to say that relationships are hard. Even if they are nonexistent. And won't happen. And if you've been just friends with the guy for a little over a year now.
  But I'm definitely staying friends with DF. And Tim. Just more towards DF. My feelings can just stay where they are.

Choir is amazing!

  Okay, so I should just admit it now...I like to sing. A lot. I sing on my way to school, on my way home from school, for hours after I get home from school, and I even  have a class in school.
  So I'm obsessed with choir. At the first of the year, it just seemed like an all right class, just a bit better than normal, but after we started our Christmas songs...I've just been so happy. Until today. It was the last day we got to perform for choir. Every time I performed, I loved it more, and I was disappointed that I didn't get another concert to get it just right.
  I'm excited about taking again next year. Already. That's how much I love it. I'm trying to get DF into it, and he says he wants to. I think he's ashamed that I'll think his voice is bad or something, but I don't care what his singing voice sounds like, I just want to see him happy and singing.
  Okay, so this wasn't exactly the point of my post. I just didn't want to start off arrogant, and I'm afraid that by writing this thing I will sound arrogant. But I'm just trying to explain this feeling.
  Last night, we were singing our final song, Po La'i E. (Hawaiian Silent Night) We were supposed to sing it in Hawaiian, hum it, then sing it in Spanish, then another group sang it in French, and then we had to walk up the aisles singing in our different languages.
  So there I was, walking up the aisle, when I decided to start walking with my friend Tim because I would feel more comfortable. He also sings really loud, so I knew that I wouldn't be as nervous about singing.
  When we finished, he turned around and told me that I had a really nice voice. That he had always heard my voice from the alto section, but didn't know who it was. For some reason, this was a HUGE deal to me. I think it's because my mom and my little sister have said that, but they're family, so they're required to. My friends don't have to say any of that if we're just singing. But he did. There's also the fact that my biggest dream is to go to Choir Festival. Since only four altos are picked, my chances of going are slim. But I want to so badly. So this upped my confidence.
  So today when we sang that song in front of the school, Tim came and sang by me again. I said that I went by him because he sang loud and didn't throw me off. He said that he came by me because I was loud and helped him, so he didn't get thrown off.
  Choir is so much fun.
 

the BIGGEST day ever

  Okay, so it's been a long time since I posted. Sorry. There wasn't much going on until today.
  These past few weeks, I've been searching inside myself to try and figure things out. I was actually wavering on whether I like DF any more. I've also been cramming for gigantic tests and working like crazy on guitar and choir songs, because the concerts started today. So I've been busy, and thought about posting here, but then I just didn't.
  So let's start with the beginning of today. I got to school, went to my first couple classes, but left after about ten minutes of math to go to the MTC. My brother (step-brother, not the one I posted about before) is leaving. He left today, to go on the Pennsylvania Philadelphia mission.
  To start off, the MTC is the coolest place ever. Once you get past the lobby where people meet with their families, the feeling is just a little short of the way you feel at the temple. Everything is strong, every emotion comes out more, and things seem clearer. During the talks they give before you have to say goodbye, a woman had all of the missionaries stand up. Looking around, seeing my brother and all of these men who are giving years of their lives to be strong servants, almost warriors for God, was amazing. So finally, the talks ended, and my brother had to leave. I wasn't going to cry, but looking around, everyone was crying, from little girls to old men. So I couldn't contain myself; no one could.
  So I was feeling a little shaky when I went into the bathroom. But in there were a bunch of women who you could tell had been crying. We were united in the fact that we were all giving up something important, something we loved so dearly that it was hard to separate ourselves from. With that thought in mind, I felt strong.
  After that, we went to Cafe Rio and then I went back to school. It was the middle of the Reflections Award Assembly that all of the kids who entered got to go to. (I was required to enter.) Since it was near the end of the school day, I didn't check in and I just sat by one of my friends, not realizing that DF was at the end of the row until I sat down. I wanted to sit by him, so I was convinced that he would win an award and when he got back, he would sit by me. But here's the shocker: I won the award. For literature. For one of the crappiest poems I've ever done. So I went back up, sat by DF, and we talked through the rest of the assembly.
  The assembly finished early, so he went with me to my locker to get my stuff, and then the bell rang and we left. He went home, and I walked to the elementary school behind my school to pick up a janitor application. That's right, I'm going to be a janitor. It's about the only job I can do at this age, and I get paid $6.53 and hour.
  After that whole thing, I hung out at home for awhile, then decided to play piano and sing, then to play guitar and sing. I spent some of the best hours of my life then, just being one with the music.
  Finally, my mom got home. We sat around for awhile, and then my sister called to tell me that she's having a baby GIRL. I'm so excited, because now I'll have two nieces, and I could tell that my sister really wanted a daughter.
  In case my day couldn't get ANY more exciting, I had a guitar concert. But this wasn't just a guitar concert. It was a guitar/BAND concert. And guess who's in the band? So after I played, getting so flushed that I'm still a little red in the cheeks, I sat down in the auditorium to watch my friends (okay, mostly DF) play. I actually stared at him almost the whole time.
  Once they were finished playing, we hung out in the school. His older brother was playing in the more advanced band at that point, so his parents were still watching the concert. We talked. And talked. And talked. So talking to him, in that perfect moment where he was DRESSED UP
(I have a thing for guys who are dressed up) I knew that I really still love him. It's really still happening. Eventually, his mom came. And the second she came, I ran off like a shot. But we had that perfect twentyish minutes, and everything was great.
  So in summary of today, the biggest day ever: my brother went on his mission, I won an award for Literature, I applied for my first job, I had a music revelation, my sister is going to have a girl, I had my first guitar concert, I hung out with DF for awhile, and I realized that I love him.
  Today has been great.

it's a great thanksgiving

  I love being around my sisters. I forgot exactly how much I love when they're around.

apology to the world

  I never have anything to post anymore. I'm sorry, but it's just too hard. It seems like all I do on this blog is complain, and really, my life is good. I love life, and I don't complain nearly as much as I do on this blog. I promise.
  Lately, I've been made fun of for reading the Kurt Vonnegut books. I don't care, except for Breakfast for Champions, which is actually bad. Kurt Vonnegut is fantastic, and everyone should read his books. Especially Slapstick.
  Today, we watched a dance performance and school, and I really wished that I could dance. These girls are people I know, and they've been dancing for years, and the whole time I've criticized them for it. But I see the beauty in what they're trying to do, what they try to create with their bodies. It's a beautiful idea, you just have to be good at it before you can really express yourself.
  Choir is my favorite class ever. I am happiest when in the middle of a song. We're singing Christmas music, and I feel like that girl in The Realm of Possibility who talks about singing to the rafters. In those moments, I can't be separated from the music, and that's when I feel like I really know something. That's when I fit in my skin the best.
  Today I started feeling really bad for myself, because the truth is, I'm fat. I'm not obese, but I am overweight, and I'm not afraid to admit it. However, I am afriad of my body. I'm trying to do better in the whole health thing, but it's hard, and I just feel worse. But then, at Stake Mutual tonight, my friend told me that I don't even realize how gorgeous I am. It was one of the best compliments I've ever received, because she meant it. How can you not be happy after something like that?
  Also, people are starting to group DF and I as a couple. Not in a bad or embarrassing way, but we're automatically associated with each other. It makes me happy, and I'll post more when I can.

mi es profesora de espanol, y yo escribo mucho (I am a Spanish teacher, and I write a lot)

  My teacher won a Milken award. It was a big deal, called the Oscars of teaching, the assembly was an hour long with tons of media coverage. But what they all missed was the day that a fourteen-year-old started teaching Spanish to her peers.
  It all started seventh period when my Spanish teacher came up to me. She said that she didn't want to talk, so I was to help everyone grade our Spanish final. She really meant that she was lazy and wanted me to do her job for free.
  So I got up there, started reading off the answers, when my friend started talking. I yelled at her. It was fun. But I stood up there all period, because the test was HUGE. My mouth dried up. I had to answer questions. I knew everyone's names, but forgot this one kid's first name. Everyone calls him Roeder, his last name. So I did too. Teachers aren't supposed to do that. Oops.
  I'm definitely never going to be a teacher.  I'm actually thinking about going into social work. It would be hard, but I want to work with kids, and I want to help people with their problems. I'm thinking that it would be a good idea.
  I also completely changed the format of the blog. It was time.
  And I'm sorry I've been so random lately. It's like I have ADD or something. But too bad. I don't really care.
  

Halloween

  It's the end of the Halloween holiday, and I'm sitting here chewing the last bits of a mini-Mound bar. It's been a pretty good day.
  I love Halloween, always have, always will. At fourteen, I'm still trick-or-treating, and plan to for at least another year. It's a day full of candy and having an excuse to be something you're not, or something you want to be. I was emo this year, but a woman who saw me and has no clue about teen culture just called me fun.
  DF hates Halloween. He stopped trick-or-treating after the ripe old age of eleven. He made the last minute decision to be a golfer. He hates golf.
  The best costume ever would be one of my friends who dressed up as Waldo from the Where's Waldo books.
  I think my main problem with Halloween is the fat. I put on weight after Halloween. A lot of weight. I'll admit it. Most of my gigantic bag of candy is gone by December. And most (okay, all) of my lost weight is back on. So this year, I have a resolution I doubt I'll stick to. I'm going to write little exercise things on little slips of paper into my candy bag. If I pull out a candy, I can eat it. If I pull out an exercise, I must do it then and there. I doubt this one will work.
  Sorry this post was so random, but I really don't care.

age

  As of yesterday, I'm fourteen. Catorce, my favorite number in Spanish. And yet I don't feel any different....
  It makes me think about the Sandra Cisneros story where she says that when you're eight you're really one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight at the same time, so when you cry like a baby, that's the three-year-old in you, but you're still eight.
  Except that's not how I feel. Sometimes, before my birthday even happened, I would almost tell people that I was fourteen. Because I feel fourteen, but I felt the same way six weeks ago.
  I really don't get age. When I turned thirteen, someone asked me if I was a sophomore. When I tried to get into the ICU this past summer, they assumed that since I was with a younger sister who could also come in, I was at least fifteen. I get confused all the time for a ninth grader or even a high schooler, and no one ever believed I was thirteen.
  Right now, I feel fourteen, but in a few months when I feel fifteen, and people start thinking I can't be younger than a junior? Age just doesn't make sense to me anymore. It just doesn't fit me. If someone asks me how old I am, I'll say I'm fourteen, but it doesn't really mean that I'm really close to that age in my mind.
  I don't really understand anything anymore. It just doesn't make sense.

The Happier Me

  However, the Monday after that happened, we had an assembly. An assembly that didn't involve any choir performances, so I actually got to sit with my own class. Specifically, next to DF. Our teacher is one of those stupid guys who says we can't talk all assembly, so of course we spent half the time discussing the whole thing. The magician whose tricks didn't work and tried to convince us that we had magic didn't work very well, since it was the same tricks as the year before. So we spent the whole assembly focusing on our physical closeness, since we hardly ever get to sit next to each other when it's not lunch, and we shared an arm rest. Okay, so this isn't a big deal for most people, but it just makes me so happy.
  Of course, it went normally after that, I got flicked in the face with gravy, all the normal stuff.
  But then this past Friday happened. Whoever thought up Career Fair for 9th graders is my new hero. Of course, the 9th graders only don't go to class 1st, 2nd, and 3rd period when this happens, but it made things so much more fun.
  My 1st period didn't make a difference, since there are only 8th graders in my class.
  In choir, there were fifteen kids instead of fifty-four. Big difference. So we spent all period hanging out, playing on the piano. Whenever I play, I feel open. So when my friends Steve and Andy came over, we talked about music, I was free, and it was AMAZING.
  During that class, I had to go to picture retakes. My original pictures SUCKED. Men should never be photographers at schools. That's when I discovered that picture retakes is like Special Ed or something. When they get there, they figure out what wrong, and they fix it. Seriously, like the greatest idea ever. But what was better was that I met up with DF and we went to them together. When I was getting my picture taken, he was standing off to the side, watching and laughing, like the perfect boyfriend would. It was great.
  In math, there were FOUR people. That's right. I was the ONLY girl. We got to eat candy, did an easy worksheet, and then my man math teacher and the three guys in the class tried to figure out which celebrities are beautiful men. It was the craziest thing ever.
  Everything just kind of fell into place yesterday. I'm just interested what'll happen on Wednesday. I don't have school on Monday or Tuesday, which just happens to mean no school on my birthday. I don't know how the whole birthday thing will go over.
  Oh, and the reason for this happiness? I've been releasing my anger through this...paper. It's on the back of some worksheet from History, and I've just been drawing words on it. It's been going on for at least three weeks, but it's started making me feel better. I finished it Friday, and I gave it to DF, so when I get it back I may put a scanned picture of it on here. It's seriously the weirdest thing I probably have ever done.

here's what happened after i got frustrated because i couldn't cry...

  The day after my crying post, I saw one of my old friends smoking. Which got me thinking about my dad (who I will explain later), and I broke down. Majorly. As in I got home, went to bed around 3:30 in the afternoon, and refused to come out of my room for another four hours. In that moment, I died inside. A lot of things have caught up with me lately.
  My brother, who has unilateral kidney disease, who I love so much, is leaving soon. And I'll miss him like heck, but I know he has to go. My other brother, who is extremely healthy, leaves for his mission this December.
  I'm having disease issues. Between the renal hypoplasia, chronic hives, and diabetes, it's just too much. I know that none of them are life-threatening, but when I explained each one to DF, his face dropped. He tried to ease it with his scoliosis issues, but now we both feel worse.
  My dad, who used to smoke like a chimney, may still be addicted to porn, started talking to his now-girlfriend when my parents were still married, is having health problems. He pinched a nerve and can barely walk. Me, the still 13-year-old, is doing his grocery shopping, getting his mail, taking out his trash, etc. And he is still losing his mind. I just can't support him anymore, can't keep teaching him the things his brain is letting him forget.
  My grandma seems to always be on the verge of dying. My grandpa (from another side) was just diagnosed with some pretty advanced prostate cancer.
  Everyone is either getting worse or leaving me, while I'm just here, unable to do anything. That's why I spent hours crying the day after I thought I was able to hold it all in, that I was strong enough.
  It turns out I'm not.

Crying

  After my grandma experienced two near-death encounters due to an illness that is too complicated to easily explain, she was finally going to get a knee replacement today. She's been living for months in a wheelchair with absolutely no knee. But when they opened her up during surgery today, they discovered that the area where the knee was to go was infected. With the infection she's been fighting for months.
  I've been thinking a lot about crying lately. Through my whole life, crying has never been hard for me. When my mom called me and told me the news, of course my tears started welling up. But I don't cry anymore. The tears come, but they don't fall. It just doesn't happen.
  After years of being a crybaby, I am so angry that my tears won't come. Am I not sad anymore? Or will my sadness just refuse to break through the barrier of love I now have surrounding my hurt?
  I don't know, and I realize that this is a sentimental piece of crap to everyone who has no clue who I am. I apologize.
  But in other news, I guess I'll talk about the DF. I've decided to tell him my secrets. I've already told him a few, and it feels better when he knows exactly what I'm trying to say, because he understands the back meaning to it.
  And...FPS sucks. That's Future Problem Solvers, and I say that we abolish it.

SNOW!?

  It's the last day of September, and we just had our first snowfall. It's cold, rainy, (so now the snow's all melted,) and it sucks. It was pretty for awhile, though.


  
  In other news, I got to make another mixed CD. DF and I have this thing where he'll give me things, which vary, and I give him mixed CDs with fun stuff like gum or starburst. It's very fun, and they're always accompanied with a note. I tried to explain to him what's going on in this particular note, and I apologized for completely ignoring his birthday. (I know, I'm stupid.)
  The other day, I gave DF my last stick of gum instead of one of my other friends. The other friend started talking about how I only give stuff to my boyfriend. I had to publicly declare that I don't have a boyfriend. (Just because I want one is a completely different story...)
  DF and I were walking from lunch to class. We were behind one of my friends who was talking to her boyfriend. When they had to go different ways, they kissed. I'm completely used to that, but DF isn't. He widened his eyes and started laughing, so I know we're not going to be kissing any time soon. Oh well. That doesn't change a thing for me.
  I also have confirmed my suspicions that I may be a diabetic. When I had two much sugar twice within three days, I started getting really thirsty, which is a sign of high blood sugar. I've discovered that as long as I eat things that are low in sugar and eat a small amount of sugar when I feel weak, I'm okay. NO insulin shots for me.
  Now...TV. I have started to watch the best three primetime shows:
The Office



Heroes



Friday Night Lights (hasn't started yet, but it'll be on next week)


  
  The Office and Heroes are AMAZING. I just discovered that DF also likes Heroes, but doesn't get to watch it much. We have stuff in common. It's amazing. (Just kidding about that amazing crap.)
  School has been making me feel tired. On Thursday night, I was feeling tired and passed out on the couch. I don't really remember what went on around that time. My mom noticed this, and now she thinks I'm a drug addict. A commercial came on for recognizing meth use in your kids, and she started quizzing me about that. Moms are frustrating.
  My favorite class right now is Choir. I am an alto. At first, I hated the fact that I never get to sing a melody, but listening to some of my favorite songs, I can hear an alto singer in the background. It's amazing what little things can make you observe.
  I also printed a ton of amazing sheet music off of the internet. Breathe by Anna Nalick is like the best piano piece ever.
  I have a lot more I could say, but I think I'm done for today.

fifteenth post! (i only got to fourteen on the last blog)

  I'm so angry. The other day I received another little tidbit of news: my dad started talking to his now-girlfriend online a year before my parents divorced. That's right. One year.
  I've forgiven him for way more than this before, so this shouldn't big, right? NO. This has uncovered everything

Apparently, I have multiple personalities.

  I've been thinking a lot about who I am lately, and I came up with this: I know myself so well that I can't separate it enough to evaluate who I am. All my actions are acting from who I am.
  And if this theory is true, I have a lot of different personalities.
  With the DF, I'm a girl who made it through the hard stuff and who he now knows intensely well. For example, today I said, "Oh my gosh, I have to take my stupid guitar home today." The meaning that both of us knew I really meant was, "Wait for me by the guitar room when you pick up your bass clarinet. I want to walk with you." That's Personality A. I rather like her.
  At home, I'm moody teenager who has gone emo and is a bit angry with the world. (Really I'm girl who just barely forgave her parents and still rages against her stepfather in her mind.) Personality B is a little nuts.
  In 1st and 3rd period, I'm quiet girl who gets good grades. Personality C is nice, but not interesting.
  In 2nd and 4th period, I'm the musical girl who picks up on everything quickly. Personality D is pretty sweet, almost as great as A.
  In 5th and 6th period, I'm the girl who knows everyone's inside jokes and is friends with everyone, but dedicates most of her attention to her DF. Personality E is tied with D.
  Here's the shocker: in 7th period, I'm now known as a troublemaker. Personality E is weird. Today in Spanish, Holly, Josh, and I were looking up insults in the Spanish dictionary and using them on each other. We talk a lot in that class. Today, the ending of the 3rd week of school, she noticed. I am now a 'trouble child' who needs to be watched and chastised often. Really, I'm not bad, I don't disrupt, and I finish my work with A's to boot. Yet, I am one of the worst kids in the class according to Senora what's-her-name. I don't get it.
  Of course, I occasionally add more personalities to the list. Think I'm crazy yet?

wheee

  Do you remember the part in The Sound of Music where Liesl gets her first kiss and runs around screaming WHEEEEE? I didn't kiss anyone today, but I screamed like that because I was really happy.


  
  This morning, I forgot to talk to Matt. I think he thought I was mad at him, so he didn't talk to me. I spent quite a bit of third period writing 'I screwed up' over and over. I felt horrible, but it turned out he wasn't mad at all.
  At lunch, Matt and I were talking about his older brother and this girl named Jenna. He said that Jenna is his older brother's 'friendish.' (if you don't get that, you've never been to middle school.) But the way he said it made me pretty sure that I'm his 'friendish.' Which makes me happy, and makes me realize that he's slowly pushing the limits as far as he can. If he goes further (with me) than his brother does (with his friendish), his mom will probably end up knowing. (Because his brother is the type to get mad and tell.) I don't know if his mom knows about me at all. (My mom doesn't know a thing, even though we've known each other for about ten months.) This is why I will now be referring to Matt as DF. (dearest friendish)
  Even though we don't go far, I can tell that we're going further. We're a bit messier around each other. We used to move around cleanly, making sure nothing ever touched. Now I'll take a paper out of his hand while touching his fingers, or he'll sit down when my hand's on the back of the chair so they brush against each other. It's exciting to notice these things.
  When I was walking home, walking the way that I knew he would drive by, I saw his car. I know he saw me. He turned around (he was in the backseat) and watched me until they went out of view. The second he turned around, I smiled at him. I'm almost positive he noticed.
  It's just little moments like that. They're perfect. WHEEEEE...

maybe this year is different than last...

   
   I HELD HANDS WITH HIM!!!!!!! Okay, so techinically we were told to hold hands, but still. Let me explain.
   Because NJHS is crazy, we had to skip lunch and 5th period to go to a meeting. They assigned us places to pick up recycling (I'm supposed to go to the faculty lounge). Then, before we could eat, we had to play a game. I missed half of the explanation, but I was there when they gave out teams. Since Matt sat behind me instead of next to me, we were both on the same team. (#5) That's when I found out that we had to hold hands with the people on either side of us.
   A kid I didn't know, but was really nice was on my right side. Matt was on my left. I was surrounded by guys holding my hand. The way the game was played, Matt had to squeeze my hand every so often. Between rounds, most kids let go. I let go of the other kid's 
hand. Matt and I only let go once. Occasionally, I would feel his fingers pulse or his bones move. And his hand felt almost exactly like mine. We didn't get sweaty (probably because my heart was beating so fast,) but it was like we matched perfectly.
   We were excused to go to B lunch because we finished early, so on the way there, I went with him to help him with his recycling route. (He's by himself.) After, we just hung out at lunch. When I had to go to the bathroom, he waited for me. When I went somewhere, he 
followed. Of course, I followed him everywhere, but still.
   I REALLY like him. I've never felt this way about a guy before, unless you count him. I talked with Steve and Holly about choir when I knew he was listening, and I could tell that he wanted to hear me sing. When I talked with Holly in 6th period, I saw him watching me talk. I don't think he knew in first period that I periodically (about every 10 seconds) glanced at him to make sure he was okay. After school, he followed me into the choir/guitar room so I could grab my guitar. (which looks pretty much like this.)

He just wanted to look at it. We talked about Peter Frampton (who sucks and is old. He didn't even know who Peter Frampton is.) on my way around the school so I could get more time with him.
  When I'm around him, I can't stop staring, can't stop thinking about how lucky I am. There's no way I would live right now without him. There's no way I would be alive, or at least have my feelings alive. I know this sounds corny. I'm sorry. What's a girl in love to do?
   In other news, well, there is no other news compared to this. I'm done.

fresh start?

  They say that a new school year is fresh and different, right? So why does it feel exactly the same?
  When I walked into first period science, HE was there. (I'm now referring to the certain person in caps.) And it seemed like nothing was different. HE was wearing a shirt he wore last year, something I was familiar with, and he didn't look any different. I didn't even notice a difference until lunch when I realized that his legs were a lot hairier.
  HE is in three of my classes, and will be in four next semester. We're going to have Health together. I'M GOING TO BE MORTIFIED. I don't even get mortified.
  In other news, my classes are pretty good. Except for the fact that my math teacher doesn't realize that there are four eighth graders in his Geometry class. Unfortunately, I'm the only eighth grade girl in his math class. And the Spanish teacher is NUTS. But that's not new.
  I would post more, but my brother's almost back from longboarding. Not much time to post today.

does it have to have a title? i guess so

  Have you ever wondered about your face shape? I didn't care about mine until my sister insisted I know to find 'the perfect haircut for my face.' According to my thirty seconds of research, I don't have a face shape. Neither does the little sister who cares. We made up new shapes: the roval (round oval) and the hoval or ovart (heart oval). In case anyone cares.
  In other news, the big sister is pregnant. Though my stepsister has already had a baby, I wasn't technically an aunt yet. It's too bad that my sister moved to the land far, far away and the niece or nephew may never really know me.
  I'm also taking my first plane trip ever tomorrow. 5:30 a.m. It will be scary.
  Um...This was going to be longer, but I forgot what I was going to write about. Sorry.

explanation

i haven't been following my usual format today, since it's been so long. i'm going through too much emotion right now to write clearly. once you make a habit of it, it's easy to peel off the feelings and stick them on paper. right now, it's not a habit. i'm done venting for today, by the way.

p.s. if you haven't noticed, everything uploads backwards. because i posted four times today, my first post of today is at the bottom. that may make a difference.

why i love my older brother

it's been made clear:
i don't have a father the way i should.
not biologically, and definitely not step.
and when i was as dark as i could go,
he was eighteen, finally mature enough.
the brother i usually didn't give a second thought to
was teaching himself to play guitar.
he played any song i came up with,
told me the names of almost all my now-favorite bands.
music became second nature.
he became instinct.
he had saved me from sex once, years before,
in an instinctive protective moment.
now he was always like that.
always nice, always listening, always making sense.
he was my dream father.
the day i had to leave the boy of my dreams, i walked around
senselessly,
sobbing without shame. when i passed my house for the
fourth time, i knew that the brave face had to go on.
he was inside and i
couldn't let him know i was hurting.
when he saw me, i know he saw
through my mask. a few quick words
ended the conversation, as i left to cry. he
knew, and didn't ask me once about it.
now he's going to leave.
he's nineteen, the right age.
when he gets back he'll start a family.
i'm in my last months
with my dream dad.

angry...i don't know how this will turn out. this is also my first attempt at a poem in a long time. i'm very rusty.

i'm downstairs, and yet i can hear the sound loud and clear.
over and over, almost never ceasing, and
every time i hear it i want to break something.
she doesn't belong to you.
i've known her longer than you have.
how could she let you take her over in such a way?
when you're not here, she's fine, the greatest mom ever.
the second you pull up to the house, she changes.
the oversexed woman i can't stand, who's almost
always kissing you and holding you and touching you.
the woman that you own in every way.
the woman you stole from me.
she doesn't care about me when you're around, because
you don't.
just because you're older than me,
it doesn't mean that i can be your verbal punching bag.
just because you married her,
it doesn't mean that you can make her not care about what
i want.
that slapping sound hurts me so much.
you used to pretend like i didn't know what that meant,
slapping her butt, constantly, over and over.
you know what that is, what it makes her think about.
that's why when you're home, i don't get a second thought.
you wonder why i'm depressed?
you wonder why i cringe whenever you touch me,
scream inside everytime you touch mine?
you wonder why i'm crying?
why i've never told you that i love you?
(i don't love you, even though you're convinced i do.)
because you're here.
because you're alive.
because i have to live with you.
because the thing i'm supposed to call you has the word
father in it, even though i don't think you
deserve a name.
because you torture me almost every day, and sometimes,
i'm on the brink of hating you, even though it would
hurt her beyond belief.

claddaghs, why zac efron confuses me, and such

One of my favorite books, The Realm of Possibility, talks about a two-finger claddagh. I have searched everywhere for a claddagh that fits on two fingers, but have had no luck. I have discovered that I love claddaghs. They're Irish rings that, unfortunately, are traditionally worn on one finger. The way you wear it indicates your love status. It intrigued me. I prefer the look of the silver ring, but I couldn't find a good picture of one.


  
  I was watching Regis and Kelly the other day. Let me establish that Regis and Kelly is not a normal activity for me. It was on, and Regis' wife Joy was taking the place of Kelly, and it sounded fun. (Please keep in mind that I had just woken up.)
  And guess who was on the show that day? Vanessa Hudgens. I have no problem with Disney, but High School Musical really bothers me. My cousins met Vanessa and Zac Efron once at a mall in L.A., and while they reported that Zac was amazing, they said that Vanessa didn't seem very friendly or even particularly nice. Before even watching Regis and Kelly, I didn't have a good opinion. While on the show, she didn't seem extremely smart ("Lake Titicaca? I didn't know that was a real place!") or interesting. And quite frankly, I hated her laugh.
  But what made up for all of that was the clip they showed of High School Musical 2. It showed her boyfriend (Zac Efron) giving her a necklace. The acting wasn't particularly amazing, but there was one thing that struck me: Zac Efron's expression near the end of the clip. Every second that he looked at her, you could tell that he (supposedly) loved her. (Most of the interview and the whole clip is on Youtube. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0IxsaRV5dl4)
  For those people who have read the Twilight series, this is definitely Edward's expression when he looks at Bella. As Mike Newton says, "It looks like he wants to eat you."
  Lately, as things have been coming up, such as going back to school for registration and seeing my old haunts, I've been reminded of a certain person. (See my old blog if you have no clue what I'm talking about. The link is listed in my profile.) Anyway, this person looked at me the way that Zac Efron looks at Vanessa Hudgens, or Edward looks at Bella.
  I miss him. I've uncovered what my mind buried to make me stop hurting. I love him so much, and I feel so bad that we've had no contact whatsoever this summer. When I was back at school, I saw his old locker and the halls we walked down so many times over the last year. It was hard for me to breathe. I love him, though I'm not in love with him yet.
  This year, I don't know if I have any classes together, or whether we even have the same lunch. I'm nervous. If we're not together, this is the best time, since my feelings have cooled down a bit. If we are, which I'll love so much more, I'm getting myself ready for another nine months of love and happiness. And since I've never kissed a guy out of pure love, I'm excited for that to happen, if it does. But I have two problems. What if he doesn't like me anymore? That I couldn't stand. What if he's mad at me for not calling him all summer? I never gave him my number, so that couldn't apply to him. I'd be able to stand him being mad at me, even if it never ended.
   Sorry I'm being random. Of course, I'm always random, so it really doesn't matter.
 

First Post!!!

  I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to use this for, but I was inspired after thinking about Stephenie Meyer.
  If this becomes a poetry blog where I post poetry, BEWARE!!! I have no clue what will come out.
  I still haven't decided if I'm completely switching from my old blog, which I never use anyway...this will be difficult.
  Hopefully, since school's starting, this will be full of * teen love poems* my favorite to write, since romance is a crazy thing.
  I should probably mention my poetry style...not rhyming, not meter, full of my emotion at the moment, not always nice, and not necessarily fluent...sorry if you don't get it. Put up a comment and I'll answer the best I can without revealing any information that would say who I am.
  Knowing me, since I'm a procrastinator, this may be my last post. Have fun!