Sunday, January 27, 2013

Bingham Boys.

Young, wild, & free.

So when was the last time you looked at someone? The last time you actually looked at someone's face, looked into their eyes, and didn't let yours dart away the second they met? When was the last time you held someone's gaze just a little too long? When was the last time you smiled at a complete stranger? When was the last time you told someone you didn't know to have a great day, and truly meant it?

When was the last time you felt like someone you didn't know cared? When was the last time you felt like someone you didn't know, wanted to know you? When was the last time you truly, absolutely knew you were doing something right in your life? When was the last time you were okay with getting lost a little? When was the last time you texted him first? When was the last time you danced out of pure joy, because you finally got the girl, finally got the job, finally got the part, finally got the grade?

When was the last time you did something crazy? When was the last time you kissed someone? When was the last time you jumped in a pool, or a pond, or a lake? When was the last time you trespassed?

So maybe he doesn't like you. Maybe he told you the girl he likes is in love with someone else, and maybe you know that that girl isn't you. Maybe he told you you're a good friend. Maybe he didn't say anything to you at all. Is that something you can change in the next fifteen minutes? Give yourself fifteen minutes and do something with them. Make moments, people; life is about the little things, no matter what your math teacher tells you about the ACT. You aren't going to get everything in life and that's a fact. It might not be something you'll always want to hear but it will always be something you need to live with. And that certainly doesn't mean you can't take the next fifteen minutes and find a stranger, talk to him, smile at him, flirt with him. It doesn't mean you can't blast music in the car, scream sing along even though your throat is already gone, follow random people around just because you can. It doesn't mean you can't take every oppurtunity to laugh. Memories don't make themselves, you guys. You have to go out, be actively searching for these moments, you have to be willing to say yes. You have to be willing to let go of all the bad minutes and immerse yourself in the next fifteen. Don't let the boys keep getting you down. Don't let your hair keep getting you down. Whatever you do, don't let technological difficulties get you down (yes, this is a reference to the two huge pictures.) Because you only have so many moments. Whatever anyone tells you about minutes and hours and days, life is composed of moments, chronologically stacked up in our heads. Make moments, not salt water.

love always, laura elizabeth.

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Wild adventures.

Rules of Adventuring:
1. Go somewhere you don't know.
2. Take lots of pictures.

I just want him to know me.
I want him to KNOW me, everyone. I want him to not just know me but try to know EVERYTHING about me, because isn't that just one of those romantic ideas? The boy that you didn't know, that tries to know everything about you just because he can? There's a lot to know about me, even though I don't always think so. He can know how my shoulder blades stick out; how I can actually grab someone's hand with my shoulder blades intentionally. I want him to know this, and not just because it's practically my signature trick. I want him to know every song on the playlist I listen to almost every night, and I want him to know why that song is on there. I really want this, people. I want him to know the significance of the song "Tiny Dancer" by Elton John and why it almost moves me to tears. I want him to know why I love owls so much, and I want him to know the first owl I ever loved. I want him to know not just the one pair of shoes that I wear every day, but all my pairs. I want him to know Psych like I do. I want him to know why I stayed in Ballet, and why I'm in Musical Theater, and why I'm going to try out for Dance Company next year. I want him to know all the places to take me when I'm in all the moods I have. I want him to know what I believe, and why, and how I feel about God and how I feel about the Holocaust. I want him to know how long I've had my same teddy bear and I want him to know how I snuggle down with it every night. I want him to know the smell of Caramel Machiatto on my breath, the smell of my shampoo in my thin, thin hair. I want him to know how I feel about my height. I want him to know me, but mostly I want him to want to know me.
Look, I know where I stand with people. I know where I stand with him. It's getting better, sure, but we don't have nearly enough time for all the knowledge I want him to have. I know that I tend to grab onto things with both hands too fast. I know that I tend to jump into shallow waters head first and maybe that's why I keep ending up broken. But it's so hard to not just jump in when you can already feel yourself slipping, you know? And boy, am I slipping and sliding all over the place, and I don't know how long I can last before I just take the dive and hope the water's deep enough that I won't get hurt right off the bat. But I guess it's still too early to tell.
love always, laura elizabeth.

Monday, January 14, 2013

525,600 minutes.

Smile more, because life's a beautiful thing and there's so much to smile about.

Take chances, you guys. Stop telling yourself it's okay to be down because we're in the blue months and just be happy again because snow is actually really fun and the cold is fleeting. You don't have to be at the beach or pool or out of school to be happy, honestly. Just be happy. Don't get too stressed about grades, please, stop that. If an A- doesn't kill me, it won't kill you. Ditto for Bs and Cs. Oh, and stop stressing about drama that will eventually pass anyway. Boys suck, I get it. I understand. It's okay. We have so much life in front of us that he will soon be one tiny inkspill on one, maybe two pages. This is high school. Nothing lasts forever that starts today, unless you really want it to. When I say that, I mean friendships and good times, but it's also true for the bad times, too. Things will last a lot longer if you keep putting so much energy into them, so stop it. You're only tiring yourself. Oh, and stop believing you have to be like everyone else. You really don't. Be yourself. It's enough, really, it is. Stop telling yourself you aren't beautiful, in fact, the opposite is true. It's so exhausting to always be putting yourself down, so just stop, please. You have 525,600 minutes every year, and every minute you spend being sad is a minute you could've been happy. It's okay to be sad sometimes, but you gotta make up for those minutes lost.
And if you take anything away from this post, make it this: Stop doing your homework sometimes. Not too often, and not a lot, but really. Find something better to do with your time sometimes. It isn't the end of the world. Take it from me.
love always, laura elizabeth.

Sunday, January 6, 2013

People, God, and other things to believe in.

Not all who wander are lost.

It's hardly a coincidence that all the things in my current life are suddenly coming together to make me believe that much more in the consciousness we loosely call God. I'm not in India, studying in an ashram (though I desperately want to be), but I am reading "Eat Pray Love" and I'm in India with her, which is sort of the same thing, and maybe living vicariously through her is enough to get me where I need to be with my spirituality. Because here's the thing, the road to healing oneself isn't some straight, smooth plane of easiness. Not that anything really broke me, except myself, probably. I'm good at that; I think we all are. I could tell you in a million and one ways the reasons why I am not enough, but I will refrain and simply tell you the one reason why I am: Because I am alive, and God lives in me.
I'm not religious to any extent; that much about me is painfully obvious. But that in no way means I'm not spiritual. I'm a dancer, aren't I? I've tapped into that energy more than some, even if I've been hesitant to call it divinity. But here's the thing. I finally stopped putting out the negative energy that has kept me cynical and within the hour, I received positive energy back. If that isn't God, then I honestly don't know what is. I might be skeptical about religion and Bible stories and creation and everything else I know almost nothing about, but when it comes to God, I know him as much as the next person.
Who am I to tell myself I am not enough? In one regard, who am I to keep telling myself that I will ultimately end up alone? Who am I to tell myself this means there's something wrong with me? I know it's been said that we accept the love we deserve, and I think it's about time I realize I deserve a lot more than what I've been accepting lately. Look at me. I've stooped to the point where I am attached to a boy who loves to call me because he thinks I'm hot. That isn't some high love, people. That's the love of physicality. Which, of course, is important, but it's the root of love, and certainly not all I deserve.
Before today, before this moment, I never truly understood that quote, the "we accept the love we think we deserve." I mean, I always thought that the fact I am a hopeless romantic meant I already think I deserve great love. But that's not it. In fact, being the hopeless romantic I am and have been has left me incredibly vulnerable to the love I've been accepting lately, because if we're being honest with ourselves, hopeless romantics will accept almost any love due to the fact that all they want is romance. But that doesn't mean I can't and haven't already changed. I'm still a hopeless romantic, but in the best way. So come at me, people, and do your worst; I'm riding high on the vibes of positive energy that was bound to make its way back to me eventually. And that is the meaning of God.
love always, laura elizabeth.