To me, happiness is such an arbitrary term. It differs for everyone. To me, happiness is sitting alone in a coffee shop, typing away at my computer, letting the intoxicating aroma of the grounds fill my nostrils. Happiness is feeling a crisp autumn breeze blow against my face as the smells of cinnamon, vanilla, and pumpkin dance around me. Happiness is seeing goats. Happiness is receiving a package in the mail, just waiting to be unwrapped. Happiness is getting my nails painted a new color, and tapping my freshly painted fingers on every surface I find.Happiness is seeing a dog, its tail wagging as it rushes their owner to my side so it can sniff me as I pet its head, even just for a moment. Happiness is when I can perfectly apply my liquid lipstick… the first time. Happiness is a tattoo parlor. The wheels in my brain get to turning thinking of all of the ink I want on my skin. Happiness is seeing a band in concert, my cheeks flushing and my heart beating along with the amp as I realize that the people before my eyes are indeed real. This is happiness for me, what is it for you?
Hi everyone, sorry this is so late but I wanted to write something and between working and trying to watch the Cubs game I forgot all about it.
As many of you know, October is breast cancer awareness month. This post is about cancer, not breast cancer, though.
6 years ago today (October 19th, 2010) my grandma passed away from Stage 4 lung cancer. I was only in 8th grade at the time and I am so devastated that I missed out on living so much of my life without the amazing woman she was. I have changed so much since eighth grade and I know she would be proud all that I’ve accomplished since then.
I first remember my dad coming into my bedroom earlier that year (March), telling me that she was sick. We sat and cried on my bed until there were no more tears to cry.
Next, I remember going to visit her every weekend that we could until she died, watching her slowly deteriorate before all of our eyes, everyone knowing but keeping quiet about it and only talking about how amazing she was doing.
The worst part about it was, I remember not cherishing the short amount of time I had left with her. I always thought she would get better and everything would go back being like old times. I remember ( and still hate myself for this to this day) her forgetting I had said goodbye to her already so my dad made me get out of the car to say goodbye again. I sulked into the house, quickly hugged her, mumbled goodbye and blew past everyone visiting back into my car. Looking back on it I would give anything to say goodbye to her again.
Upon getting home from a school trip to Washington D.C, my dad wasn’t home (with my grandma) and my mom broke the news to me that she wouldn’t make it much longer and we were going the next morning to see her and say goodbye. She didn’t wake up the next morning. When my dad got home and told us, we cried together for the second time.
Despite all of these sad moments, they aren’t the things I remember most about her. I remember her introducing me to the movie ‘Miss Congeniality” and watching it every time I would spend the night at her house. How that movie also became my favorite overtime. I remember that I stayed at her house for 2 weeks one summer and I got to watch old movies, garden, make woven potholders (a lot cooler than it sounds), make jewelry, and eat cake for breakfast with her.
What I’m trying to say is that cancer is a horrible disease and takes so many people away each day. Please remember, today and every day, tell your loved ones you love them because you never know when it could be the last time you tell them. I love and miss you Grampatty
A goal of mine for as long as I can remember is to exude light. To be as radiant as humanly possible. Like those girls in the movies, whose aura matches her best friends in the back seats who drive around town with their windows down, music blasting into every wandering set of ears they pass.
Over the past 19 years of my life, I’ve come to the conclusion that this idea only exists in movies, that this goal is not something I can possible achieve, and no matter how hard I try, I will in this constant state of longing for this feeling I cannot have.
Despite this conclusion, my mind always wanders to why I can never achieve this. These radiant people I rarely come across of hear about seem so carefree and ethereal, and here I am, just the opposite. Why can’t i be like them? What did they have that I didn’t?
We are the same yet different, the same just under different circumstances. We both face the hardships this world puts on us, yet I just see them in this state, this unworldly state.They make the best of their circumstances, why can’t i make the best of mine?
When I choose to look beyond the hardships I face, beyond all of my obligations, and just focus on things that make me euphoric, I begin to realize, I emanated light this whole time.
Silence. Quiet. Mute. Quietude. Still. Tranquility. Noiseless. Absence of sound.
Silence. This term is typically seen as unnerving. Why is this? Is it because our teachers silenced us when we were in trouble with a swift index finger to their lips? Or maybe because we have so much to say in such little time and we’re willing to keep noisy to let anyone and everyone hear what’s on our minds, no matter how pointless?
Society has coined the term ‘awkward silences’ to show our dismay for the state. Why is it that we need constant noise, constant interaction? Why can’t we appreciate those short spurts of quiet, alone, peace?
No children screeching in the distance, no barking animals and hissing cats. No hustle and bustle of people living. No constant buzz or bing of smart phones. No parents or friends trying to interrupt whatever it is I’m doing.
The idea of quiet, silence, scares some people. It liberates me. I love being able to curl up with a book, or a pen and paper, sat on a sofa or chair, and the only noises I can hear are birds chirping, the current of the river, and me turning the pages as I delve deep into my novel.
I believe silence is necessary. Whether you’re alone or with people. To think, question, reflect. It’s a calming thing, silence is, and I think too many people take silence for granted.Alicia
642 things to write about prompt: Write down everything you can remember about your algebra teacher
Geoff Geltner. He let us call him Gee-off even though his name was pronounced Jeff. 2nd-hour algebra, right after gym. During the swim unit of gym, he would always ask my friends and I if we were given swirlies and we mirrored wet dogs. Freshman year of highschool. Every day he donned far too large khakis of either brown, beige, or olive. On top he wore polo shirts and every Friday wore jeans and a blue and white t-shirt (Spirit day). It was his first year using the smart board. One day I remarked how poor his handwriting was on the board (jokingly) and then he made me use the smart board for the entire day. My handwriting was worse. He has 2 kids, a boy and a girl I think and he talked about them a lot. He never said the word shit. He used the phrase shiitake mushrooms instead. I didn’t know what a shiitake mushroom was then… I do now. He had glasses and brown hair and was always smiling. I don’t think I ever saw him upset about anything. He would run down the halls and we never really knew why. He still remembered me, and waved and said hello even in my senior year. He called my mom on the last day of school to tell her I was the 4th best student he had out of 100+ students. He loved the phrase “and it blew away like a fart in the wind.” He gave an award for the student with the most perfect pages (pages on a test with 0 mistakes). He told us it was a “Toyota” but he really meant “Toy yoda.” he was always kind and never wanted to embarrass students or make them do things they didn’t want to. We switched seats once a quarter and for the entire week after switching, he would look around the room at least 5 times before finding the student he was in need of. He was my favorite teacher I’ve ever had.
P.S. I have run out of goodbye gifs and that’s sad but maybe I’ll start with quotes or some other garbage. Give me ideas. ty
The other day, I made a trip to Barnes and Noble, searching for a book. Not any book in particular but I came across a book called “The Girls” and picked it up. I’m almost finished with it; very good but a little NSFW for all you little readers out there.
Anywho, I was looking for a planner of sorts to keep up with eating, exercise, work, food, life, etc. and found the book “642 things to write about” and decided to purchase that as well. I have decided that I am going to begin writing posts (when I can think of nothing and have nothing significant to blog about) using these prompts. It’s going to take me a very long time to complete them all, and some I may not even do. I’ll be making a page on the blog titled “642 things to write about” and will also be tagging each prompt post with the tag #642thingstowriteabout in case any of you are interested in seeing my collection. I may do one a week, one a month or may bust out 15 in a single day. I really have no expectations for them, however, since I bought the bought and they don’t allot ample space to complete the prompts in the book, I figured I would save paper, and share them with you all.
Also, I won’t be doing them in any specific order. I’ll just open the book and choose the first one that interests me.
So, that’s all for now. Just a quick little intro post. Be on the lookout for the page on my blog menu and for some interesting posts headed your way
10:06 am, the first firework has been heard.Seated on the porch of my grandpa’s house, shoes off, reading a novel, and there it is. It is officially the 4th of July, America’s birthday.
On this day, we celebrate freedom, pride, and the ability to light fireworkds, hoping to not blow off a child’s leg.
Yet, why is it, that just a few homes down, confederate flags are still hung high? Why is it that people are killed everyday because of our lack of gun control? Why is it that the term Democrat or Republican will determine who we can be civil with? Why is it that the term home of the free is stated across the country but when someone wants to be free to use the bathroom they identify with, they can’t? When did the term “freedom and justce for all” become “fredom and justice for those who can afford it”? When did celebrating the birth of the free nation become a day to wallow in beer and see who can blow off the biggest firewroks without having the cops called on them?
America has a lot of issues, but their biggest is being a hypocrite. We wanted a country where every citizen could have religious freedom, political freedom, a freedom of speech, etc. Yet, unless you are a devout, weekly church going Christian, you’re looked down upon. You can’t speak of your political views without some shit pile calling you out and saying everything you believe in is wrong and you’re an idiot for having beliefs. Speaking your mind is basically walking on eggshells because you can’t say anything without half of your facebook friends getting offended.
Everyone says how much they love America, one day a year. The other 364 days a year we bicker, fight, and hate on everyone in the enire country. We can’t get along, we never have. We are still just as divided as we were during the days of the Civil War. And, as far as I can see, nothing is going to change any time soon.
It just infuraites me that we can have so much love for a country, one day a year, and then every other day act as if we aren’t citizens of the same country. As a country that some call the “melting pot,” we really should be called “picky child’s plate who throws what she doesn’ like on the ground” because in all honesty, that’s what we are. And I don’t know about everyone else, but I for one, hate it.
But, Happy 4th of July everyone. Glad we’re all civil today, can’t wait for every Republican and 2nd ammendment enforcer to go back to hating me in a mere 9 hours.