london calling

i'm in love with London.

the taxi's and beautiful colors and trims

A park

the buses and architecture 

a store

the city lights

apartments 

 above is a department store at Christmas time. 

a skating park

Windsor Castle

Big Ben 

a flower shop

then there is the beautiful country side. 

How can i NOT be in love with London?

(don't worry, there will be more to come, for there are many reasons why i am in love with London.)

sleep

sleep is so strange. 

we treat it like an activity or an outing if you will.

we have routines to get ready for sleep.

we brush our teeth for sleep.

we take off make up for sleep.

we have certain clothes we wear to go to sleep.

when in reality all we are doing is.... well nothing.....except breathing and dreaming. 

it is like a weird in-between stage of being dead and alive. 

but it is crazy how we need sleep. we need to go away for awhile. we need forget. we need to recharge.

sleep is just so strange. 

k i s s

i've heard that "a kiss is a dangerously wonderful thing"- jackie o

and i'd like to see if that's true.

so if you love me, like really love me (and you are a male) please do the following....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=upMpZl7PNRI

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SofVMXp_7bc

(start this next one around :58 seconds)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dVl5inal1PE

kiss me. cut me off mid sentence and tell me you care. tell me how i am special and wonderful and precious and magical....

kiss me. 

i want to be kissed.

kissed... that's such a weird word.

kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss.

sometimes i joke about being VL, but honestly it's not a joke. i want to be kissed.

kiss me in front of the school, kiss me over a look out, kiss me on my doorstep, kiss me in your car, kiss me in the park....

freak. someone just kiss me.









sorry for that.... it is valentines weekend and all i've done is watch chick flicks.

love.

i want to be in love.

scratch that.

i want someone to love me. 

cuz i have been in love, i think i am in love.... but no one loves me like that.

"we are just friends. she just needs me right now and there are some things going on in her life that you just don't understand."

really?

wow. ok. just friends... no one is "just friends" with their first love, first girlfriend, first ex, first broken heart....

and B- how do you know that there are things in my life right now that i can't talk to anyone about cuz they don't understand.... oh wait you DON'T KNOW. cuz you don't have time to know.

you DON'T KNOW... that i need you right now too.








*sigh*





i don't know... .... maybe i'm wrong.....all that i know is that.....




i need someone to love me.

i'd like it back

"i'd like my crayons back, please"

(sorry i say crans. i'm a utahn.)

and while you're at it....

i'd like my treetop apple juice in the mini can.

i'd like my pb&j sandwiches with white bread and the crust cut off, cut into 4 squares please.

i'd also like my chicken noodle canned soup with milk (because my best friend is allergic to peanut butter so i will make the sacrifice for her)

i'd like my trampoline back.

i'd like the summer nights sleeping out on that tramp in sleeping bags and blankets with my sisters.

i'd like to play in the sprinklers, and maybe if i was lucky dad would put the hose under the tramp and we could jump and splash on tramp.

i'd like to play night games again.

i'd like to finger paint again.

i'd like my fancy hair doodads with the two balls on the elastic back.

i'd like that light pink shirt with the dainty embroidered flowers around the neck back.

i'd like my overalls back.

i'd like to watch dragon tales, and rollie pollie ollie, and out of the box, and winnie the pooh.

.................i love winnie the pooh.

i'd like to have my daddy carry me down to bed after a long day.

i'd like to have bath time where my mom would do crazy hair with the shampoo.

i'd like to be lotioned after my bath and use the lavender sented hair detangler while my mom combs my long hair.

i'd like my friends back.

i'd like to play house, and spy kids, and babysitter club, and restaurant, and vet, and barbies, and polly pocket, and fashion designer, and survivor, and pretend that our parents died so we had to live in the backyard and i was the older sister that takes care of the family, and college...

i'd like my childhood back.


ooops i forgot to say please!


please can i have all of it back?


i'd like that.

i'd really like that.


but i know you can't. cuz my hands are too big for the crayons. my sisters are old and live far away, they can't and won't sleep on the tramp with me anymore. i can't get the tramp back because no one would jump on it. the neighbors would think i'm strange if i ran in the sprinkles. and frankly i don't want to get wet anymore. i don't want my fancy hair doodads back because they hurt. i can't watch my shows because they don't exist anymore. i can't play college anymore because now, in a few months i have to LIVE college.

i guess i can't get it all back.

i suppose i will have to settle on getting the memories back.

the fact is.....

i'm growing up whether i like it or not.

denied

i was denied. but my best friend since 2nd grad was accepted. our plan was to start off our lives together off in hawaii at school.

i'm happy for her. honestly, i am. i can only imagine what an incredible time she will have.

i just wish i could go with her. but it will all be ok. it just want' meant to be i guess.

when i was telling you about the situation you said "suz. i wish i could help :/"

you've said that a lot lately... but i don't think you realize that you can help.

i read this quote today... "respect people who find time for you in their busy schedule, but love people who never look at their schedule when you need them."

no. you can't help the fact that i wasn't accepted. and no. you can't help that she was.

but you can still help.

you can come surprise me at my home.

you could come with ice cream or flowers.

you could come with a sketch pad and a pen so that we can play our favorite game that can last for hours.

you could come play blink and scrabble with me... and let me win.

you could come watch a movie with me and cuddle me in your strong arms... because i've never been cuddled.

you could come take me away to your tree house that you made, where we could just sit and talk... and maybe while we are talking you could play with my hair.

sorry. maybe i'm getting carried away.

you could come just as you are and that would be enough.

i do appreciate the thought though.

"i wish i could  help"

but truth is.......
.................you can.

in fact. you might just be the only one that can.

remember the butterflies?

remember those butterflies i told you about?

remember how i was driving home and felt the cage open and the butterflies were set free by the thousands?

well let me tell you about those butterflies.

i went to your house. i saw that the lights were all off and i saw your car in the driveway.
i knew you wouldn't want to talk so i decided to write you a note saying how i hope you have a great day at school tomorrow and put it under your windshield whipper.

walking back to back to my car was horrid.

it felt like someone dumped a bucket of water into my stomach and all the thousands of glorious butterflies that i had felt just a day before, were drowning fast.

I could feel their frantic fluttering wings trying to get the heavy water off so they could fly again.

but it didn't work. all the butterflies were gone instantly.

they all lie at the bottom of my stomach, waiting to be picked up and pinned. to be framed for the museum visitors to awe at their spectacular wings.

they wouldn't have drowned if you had done something though.

if you would have told me to stay and wait for you.

if you would have walked me to my car.

if you would have given me one of your wonderful hugs...

... instead of barely acknowledging the sacrifices i had to make to come see you.

....instead of barely acknowledging that i was even there.

the butterflies sunk because they knew what was coming next.

they knew that you wouldn't say anything about the note on your car.

they knew that if i stopped trying, then this... whatever it is that we have... would stop too.

like it did last time- when i didn't say anything, so you didn't either and we didn't talk for a week.

they knew that it was about to all end.

once i finally got in the car and drove away with all the fallen and broken butterflies inside, a song came on the radio that reminded me of you.

"say something i'm giving up on you"

the words were too tender. too close to home and i couldn't hold it in anymore.

my heart started sweating out of my eyes because like the frantic fluttering butterflies my heart was in a panic.

the world outside became a blur, except the lights. they shone.

why did you hurt my butterflies?

why are they not worth your time?

why didn't you make them feel important?

why didn't you fight for them?

why didn't you DO anything?

why did you pour the water?

you could have saved my beloved butterflies...

but you didn't.

and every now and then you say something and i start to feel a single butterfly slowly flapping her wings...

shaking off the heavy water, preparing to take flight.

but i have to remind her to stop,

because you're just going to pour water on her again.

i want flowers

today i heard a story.

there was a girl, a freshman in college who had a huge crush on this tall handsome guy. she would always call him superman when she was talking about him to her friends. she was always too shy to ever go up and talk to him. but one day when they did meet she found out his name was clark (how perfect is that?! superman's real name is clark?!) she thought it was meant to be. Her and clark found out more about each other (like they were both from california and they were high school rivals) and eventually they started dating. christmas was coming and they were both so excited to go home to be with their families and each other. she forgot to buy a plane ticket so clark offered his to her and he drove with his brother. the next day she got home and her dad told her that there had been an accident.

then he said a guy that she went to school with, had died...

...his name was clark.

she was devastated. she didn't even get to say goodbye. they had spent the day before together and planned to see each other tomorrow how could he be gone?!

this story got me thinking about my lesson in english about having a 'living funeral'

why do we wait to tell someone we love them after they have passed, at their funeral?

tell me you love me today.

why do we give thousands of splendid flowers to people once they are dead? they won't see them.

bring me flowers today. let me enjoy them, today.

let me know you care. today.

show me you care. today.

don't wait.

but i can't tell you to bring me flowers because then it's not genuine and you are just doing it because i told you to.

give me flowers because you want to.

and some people say "oh don't worry, some people, they just have funny ways of showing that they care"

but i know that's not true.

i know you painted her nails, just because.

i know you played with her hair, just because.

i know you brought her a rose on a random day, just because.

i know you picked out an outfit and laid it on her bed with a note that said meet me at 7:30, just because.

why can't you do any of that for me?

just because.

because you care about me... don't you?

but when i asked you about it you said "she was my girlfriend suzie. you aren't."

that hurt.

why can't i be? i mean, am i not? all the movies and books would say that i am.

but i guess i can't force you into loving me.

or even caring for that matter.

i suppose what i'm trying to say is that...

i want you to know that i care about you, i love you, am here for you. i don't want you to leave like clark did.

but i'm also trying to tell you that...




i want flowers.

how long will i love you

this is a song by ellie goulding. it warms my heart and i want to share it.
                                                       
                                                         "How Long Will I Love You"
                                               

How long will I love you?
As long as stars are above you
And longer, if I can.
How long will I need you?
As long as the seasons need to
Follow their plan.

How long will I be with you?
As long as the sea is bound to
Wash upon the sand.

How long will I want you?
As long as you want me to
And longer by far.
How long will I hold you?
As long as your father told you,
As long as you can.

How long will I give to you?
As long as I live through you
However long you say.

How long will I love you?
As long as stars are above you
And longer, if I may.

delicate

del-i-cate
    adjective

1: easily broken or damaged

2:easily injured, hurt or made sick

3: attractive and made up of small or fine parts


         a; generally pleasant
         b; marked by daintiness or charm of color, lines, or proportions
         c; marked by fineness of structure, workmanship, or texture
         d; easily torn or damaged- fragile
         e; requiring careful handling



i am delicate.


.

swear words.

i hate swear words.

hate. hate. hate... and i know hate is a strong word but that is why i'm saying it.

i hate them. why do words have to have to be dirty. who gives words meaning?

words are b e a u t i f u l.

words are g l o r i o u s.

use your words people.

i'm sorry. but i think that if you use curse words then you are unintelligent.

like really? your vocabulary is so small that you can only use those kinds of words to describe how you are feeling? really?

c'mon humans.

be educated.

stop swearing.

with this said, i understand that i live in a world that doesn't agree with me. and i hear curse words in other's conversations, songs, movies.... blogs... -_-

but i don't approve of them.

 i don't want that one word to ruin a song. so until i learn how to edit songs...if there is ever a song that is on my blog that says a bad word  I WILL warn you. and I WILL expect you to scream or turn down the music when it is about to be said.

and also if i comment on a blog post that has a swear word. don't judge me. i am not a hypocrite. i may genuinely like your writing.... just not that word. but i understand that this is your own blog and you can say what you want so that is why, if i comment, i won't say anything.


but you should know that i don't approve.

stop swearing people.

you're better than that.

use your words.

h u m a n

i am human.

i'm human because i can feel,
i have emotions,
i can hurt.

i am not a robot... 

although i feel like it sometimes.


i go into auto sometimes. like when i'm getting ready for the day, driving home from school, walking to my classes, getting ready for bed.

i need to recharge like a robot sometimes. i charge my battery by sleeping. i love sleep.  i can forget everything. it all goes away.

but i hate waking up. because then all the emotions, memories, problems, etc. come back like a flood.

like the hoover dam of my life and all my thoughts had just been broken and the water is powerful as it is rushing through,

and i just want to go back to bed.

don't wake me up chris brown. don't do it.

but do, because i am human. i don't want to miss out on happiness, on love, on friendships, on life.

so i guess you can wake me up, chris.

wake me up, because i. am. human.