Sunday, March 27, 2011

Think of it all. Think of what we might have said and what might have happened and whatever follows.

the bittersweet whispers of wishes passing
through broken lips
a moment shared that is now lost.
after it all, all you left behind was just
more empty space.
how much of me was used
and how much will be cherished?
we all gather and speak of unspeakables
in the thoughts of who knows and who
But in the end,
who knows?

Who Knows?

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

You're different. And I'm trying to figure out why.

My biggest, most vulnerable fears.

I fear of not being remembered.
I fear of leaving nothing behind, not even an empty space.
I fear of these kind of thoughts:

Yes, it kinda hurts that I wasn't invited to go to Pizza Pie with y'all.
Yes, it kinda hurts that I was forgotten about when it came around to giving rides to the dance.
[until a ride was needed. then everyone remembered me.]
Yes, it kinda hurts that I am not in anyone's best moment.

Because I know I have friends that love me.  I love my friends.
But sometimes, I feel like when push comes to shove,

i am invisible.

We all feel like this sometimes.  In the hallways, I walk with my head held high.  But no one really sees that.
What people see are what they think of me.

I have amazing friends.  Usually I feel like I don't deserve any last one of them.

In ceramics, we're doing a project where we incorporate a deep secret of our own into our art.  I don't consider myself with many deep secrets, and the ones I have I would never, ever put into art.  So I think that the secret that will be woven into the clay is that I am afraid.  I am almost always afraid.

How many of my followers actually read my blog because they want to?
Those are the ones that took the time to read this.  Thanks, guys.

I realize who I am and I know why some don't like me.  I kinda don't really like myself.  But I am who I am.


Monday, March 21, 2011

The passing of my most reliable companion.

On Thursday, March 17 (St. Patrick's Day), my beautiful, precious cat Buchie died.  He used to have a sister named Sundance, so it was Buch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid?  Yeah, I have to explain that everytime I tell someone Buchie's name.  Anyway.  Sundance passed away a few years ago of cancer.  It was sad of course, but Buch had always been my favorite.  We've had him since I was two.  When I would cry, he'd come snuggle with me.  When I looked at him from far away, he'd run up to me and rub against my leg.  When my mom opened my door to wake me up, he'd run in and walk on/massage my back.  It felt so nice, especially when I was sore from dance the day before.  He was the best cat.

We've known this was coming for awhile.  He got this digestive disease a few months ago.  He used to be twenty pounds, then by last Christmas at least he was down to seven.  He threw up non-stop.  I still loved him.

Because I knew this was coming, I decided to take pictures of him whenever I had my camera nearby and I saw him.  I didn't get as many as I would have liked but I did get a few good ones.

Such a handsome kitty.  I love you Buchie.

<3 StarFish.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

You know something's up when you start comparing love to math.

Math is confusing.

Sometimes you have both sides of the equation so you go about solving it, and when you finally do you could jump for joy and everything is just so happy and beautiful.  Then you plug it in and for some reason it doesn't work so you go about solving it again and you come up with the same thing again.  This time, instead of being happy, you feel frusterated and sad that you can't get it to change.  Then you finally figure out what you were doing wrong.  And that process goes on forever.  Until you finally find the right answer.

Sometimes you don't have both sides.  You only have the confused side, the side that doesn't just tell you what it is.  You spend so long and you finally figure out what's on the other side but how are you supposed to know if it's right or not?  You don't, usually.  Sometimes it is.  See paragraph one.

You know that problem that everyone has seen?  Where when you simplify it down, it goes to i<3u?  Well, sometimes love is just simplifying things down too.  It really all depends on the problem.  Or the person.

sorry about the math analogy.

Love, StarFish.

Friday, March 4, 2011

If you even still read my blog, here's the poem I promised. Even if it isn't about what you wanted it to be, and more about what we were.


we were pictures on the swings
setting on simpler times
sweet passing though now bitter.
once a hug, now
barely a glance,
old opinions turned by new friends
and new opinions found by old friends.
we were crayons and coloring books,
and letters between semicolons and numbers.
once one space between,
but now many returns.
we were stupid video games,
and movies and makeovers,
and ice cream and clothes
and friends.
new by chance,
best by love,
but why forgotten?

You know who you are.

To the person the poem is about,

If you still read my blog, let me know you saw this.  Or at least text me and say it was a terrible poem.  Give me some sign that says you read it.  Or don't.  Leave me wondering.  I care but you don't, so I'll pretend.  Sorry it isn't a happy poem about smiles.

To all my other followers,

I love you guys.


Thursday, March 3, 2011

oh, how times have changed.

Well, this is it.  The one we've all been waiting for.

Blog Post Numero Un Hundredo.
--lauranese for Number One Hundred.  Just in case you don't know the language yet.

When I started this blog, I was definitely a different person.  I was still infatuated with Voldemort and didn't quite have any support with that yet.  I hadn't broken my foot yet.  I remember the day that Stevie and I decided to make blogs, inspired by Addy's.  I remember wondering if I would actually keep up with it.  I remember wanting Voldemort to know all my feelings still, hoping they would persuade him back to me [I also remember regretting telling him the address later on].

I can tell you the last post I ever wrote while still being infatuated with Voldemort.
--does calling him Voldemort make me immature?  Eh.

In celebration of this hundredeth [?] post, I'm going to write you a list.  One hundred things I love.  You see, it's somewhat of a tradition with me to keep up a list of things I love, and add to it whenever I think of something.  I'm quite sure it has more than one hundred things on it but I guess we'll see, hmm?  I won't include people unless I have to.  So if you're not on there, no worries.  I still love you.

One Hundred Things I Love:

  1. Life
  2. Dance
  3. Smiles
  4. Happiness
  5. Charlie Brown
  6. Photography
  7. Cameras
  8. Teddy Bears
  9. Rainbows
  10. Snow
  11. Chocolate
  12. Lollipops
  13. Food
  14. Christmas
  15. Dances
  16. Friends
  17. Family
  18. Drama
  19. Music
  20. Pencils
  21. Sparkles
  22. Fireworks
  23. Presents
  24. Travelling
  25. Paper
  26. Psych
  27. Mailboxes
  28. Grilled Cheese Sandwhiches
  29. Candy Canes
  30. Laptops
  31. Color
  32. Flowers
  33. Rain
  34. The Sun
  35. The Moon
  36. Stars
  37. Blankets
  38. Beds
  39. Pillows
  40. Pointe Shoes
  41. Pajamas
  42. iPods
  43. Theater
  44. Earrings
  45. Necklaces
  46. God
  47. Ballet
  48. Candy Corn
  49. Jeans
  50. Nail polish
  51. Mail
  52. Cinnamon Rolls
  53. Bananas
  54. Fruit
  55. Juice
  56. Smoothies
  57. Milkshakes
  59. Books
  60. Reading
  61. Texting
  62. Toast
  63. Parites
  64. Birthdays
  65. Cookie Dough
  66. Nannies
  67. Songs
  68. Songwriting
  69. Guitars
  70. Boys
  71. Poetry
  72. Harry Potter
  73. Cursive
  74. Nickelback
  75. Cinderella
  76. Fairytales
  77. Disney
  78. Rollercoasters
  79. Australia
  80. France
  81. Mist
  82. Clothes
  83. Rainboots
  84. Beads
  85. Owls
  86. Nature
  87. Umbrellas
  88. Purses/bags
  89. Sunglasses
  90. Swimming
  91. Slides
  92. Diving Boards
  93. Monkeys
  94. Tutus
  95. Dream Catchers
  96. Mickey Mouse
  97. Aladdin
  98. Baseball
  99. People
  100. Love.

There you have it.  100 things I love.  Of course I love a lot more than that.  But those are just things that came to my mind and I wrote down.  Happy Hundred Post day, my dear followers/readers.

Lots of Love,

ps. Zak, I love you bud. You're awesome and amazing and incredibly strong.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

It's funny how not funny life can be.

I have, on a whole, the very best friends in the whole entire world.  They are all mostly reliable in different ways.  Like I have someone that I can rely on to flirt right on back to me when I feel like being cheered up, but can also be so super sweet and is always open for a hug.  Then I have the other friend that I've known for about a year and I can usually rely on to talk to me and not judge me-and, bonus, he's the bestest big brother in the world (even though I can't rely on him reminding me to do my theraband every night).
**In case you haven't noticed, I'm not talking about any of my girl friends here.  They are amazing and I love them all so so much and wouldn't be able to exist happily without them.**
Those two guys, they help keep me grounded.  Of course, when I become such good friends with basically anyone, I always start freaking out and trying not to do anything to push them away which usually ends up pushing them away.  I'm trying to calm myself down but that's the way things go.  I have one special friend that I love so so much because I can always rely on him to stay the same and put up with me poking him and rubbing his head and calling him a Ute fan and all sorts of abuse, and still be my friend.  He never gets mad and he's always smiling and he's just basically the best.  I basically adore him.  He doesn't read my blog though.  But in a weird way he totally helps me out.  Even if his phone is kinda faulty and I can't rely on texting him too much because basically I like just being able to joke around with him in French and Math.
Then there's the flirty guy that every girl I know has had a crush on sometime in their Junior High existence [yes, including me].  He trades his gum to me for a poem about his attractiveness, and trades a poem about my attractiveness and a piece of gum for the apple juice I won in Biology.  He's mostly a good guy.  He can't draw very well but I still have the hippo he drew for me on the first day of second semester.  He has great hair and knows it, and always strikes a model pose without realizing when he isn't moving.  In the poem I wrote about his attractiveness I described his eyes as being chocolatey.  Which is true.
Then I have all the guys that I fade in and out of talking to a lot.  Like lately I've been talking to this guy, who is actually Voldemort's [if you remember who Voldemort is, then brownie points to you] best friend, and sorta been giving him advice on his love life.  Not like I'm very qualified to do that, but it's kinda gratifying that he and I talk a lot.  Then there's Voldemort's other best friend who lives far far away, that I like very much because he's just so cool.  Plus he can kick through like two boards blindfolded after spinning around.  I like that he randomly called me when he went through something hard with HIS love life, and even though I wasn't really helpful, I still felt special that I was the one he talked to.
Then there's the kid next door, who I just love.  I just love him so much because he reminds me of my childhood.  Even though I basically never get to see him, I still smile and feel like my heart is hugging something [do you know that feeling?  I get it all the time.  Like when I think about guys 1, 2, 3, and now this guy] because I just love him.  He's pretty much my favorite.  Ever.
I love most of the guys in my life.  I often say I hate boys, but that's actually untrue.  Firstly, I don't hate.  It isn't me.  When I say hate I'm exaggerating.  Secondly, I often highly dislike certain things about certain guys, but I would never judge the whole species of male on those things.  Because I've seen a few instances where a guy is just about exactly what I needed.  And the first few guys I almost named, they're the ones I turn to.  So thanks guys.

Love StarFish.

If you had seven deadly exes, I would totally fight them, just to be with you.

When I was a wee little second grader [and I remember this experience perfectly...well kinda] I was at recess and something upset me.  I think something that had to do with friends. [that's the imperfect part of the perfectly.]  All upset and alone at recess, I ran and sat my butt against a red pole and leaned against it and buried my face in my knees and about started crying.  Yes, I was dramatic, even then.
Anyway, there I was, and some big huge hulkin' girl comes up to me and asks me if I'm okay.  I realize that she's a sixth grader.  A sixth grader, talking to ME!  I was kinda freaked out.  I said I was okay.  She asked if I wanted to come play with her and her friends.  Again, I was freaked out, so I lied.  I said that I was playing hide and seek with some friends.  She smiled at me then walked away.  I promptly ran and found a new "hiding spot".
I wish I remembered what this girl looked like.  I wish I remembered what had upset me.  Almost more than all, I wish I hadn't lied.  I wish I had gone and played with them.  No doubt, they would've thought I was the cutest little girl ever, because that's how most sixth grade girls are about little second grade girls.
I wonder where she is now.  I wonder who she is.  What's her name?  Who's broken her heart?  Has her heartwarming kindness lasted throughout the toughest years of her life?  She's what, four years older than me?  She's all graduated, possibly in college.  Did she get good grades?
Has the world changed her smile?  Does she remember me?
Be kind to little second graders that look like they're crying.

Lots and lots of Love,

ps. In case you were wondering, this post's title is in reference to the movie Scott Pilgrim Against the World/ Scott Pilgrim and the Seven Deadly Exes [or something like that].  Possibly one of the greatest, if totally random, movies I have ever seen.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011


Thanks a lot Janessa.  See if I ever tag you again for anything.
Here we go. AGAIN.  Sorry if I repeat anything.

1.  I am a firm believer in Karma.
2.  My first memory is of the cat that I still have and love streaking by my two year old body when we first got him [and his sister sundance. But she's dead. ): ]
3.  I was born in Highlands Ranch, Colorado.  Had I stayed I would've gone to Mountain Ridge Junior High.
4.  I love photography and I love being photographed.
5.  I'm not hugged as often as I'd like to be.  Then again, when is anyone?
6.  I look for a face I've never seen before in the hallways of my school.
7.  I have my own language.  It's called Lauranese.  Not pronounced Laur-an-ess [coughbraedoncough] but Laura-knees.
8. I have always loved stuffed animals.  I used to have this little elephant I carried around everywhere.  My mom has a picture of me carrying it with a binky hanging out of my mouth like I'm a little elephant too.
8a.  I think I was one of the cutest little girls ever.  Just saying.
9.  One of my favorite things to do when I have nothing else to do is look through my photo albums.  I love them.
10.  I'm cursing Janessa's name as I write this.
11.  I've always wanted to go to the Amazon.  And Australia.  I love nature.  I really love kangaroos.
12.  My top two favorite accents are English [like, British English, not sloppy I-don't-pronounce-the-"t's"-in-my-words American English] and Australian.
13.  My mom ordered me a new bed today.  I'm kinda sad because I've had this same bed ever since I got into a bed and out of a crib.  Furthermore it used to be like my great grandpa's or something.  But she isn't getting me a new one because this one is cracking and breaking.  No, she's getting it so she can force me out of it when people come stay at our house this spring for Alex's graduation.
14.  I often make up my own superstitions.
15.  I often have very vivid and terrifying nightmares.  Often, they are someone that antagonizes me killing the people that I love.  Not my family usually but other people.  It's kinda really scary.

There.  I won't tag anyone this time out of fear of being tagged again [coughJANESSAcough].

Love [to everyone but janessa],