An occurance that made me sad.

Today I was babysitting these two little girls who go to my church. One is 7 and the other is 5. We were watching a movie and they weren't paying attention and were doing something I can't remember, when the 5 year old pulled up her shirt for some reason I cannot reacall. Her older sister said, rather matter-of-factly, "You're fat." This young girl who will be going into Kindergarten in the fall replied with a simple "I know." And let me tell you, she is definitely not fat. She just has one of those bellies that little kids have, you know?

It disgusted me that the media has infiltrated so far into our society that girls as young as 5 are aware that they may be viewed as "fat."

What is "fat" anyway? It's a word that society has linked negative connotations to and uses to make girls feel terrible about themselves who don't deserve it. I'm sick of society and the media's apparent necessity to make girls feel like they have to look a certain way to be deemed pretty.

Every girl is beautiful.

Every girl is wanted.

Every girl is loved.

(Oh and this goes for boys, too)

And now for some unrelated pictures.

Arguments, flirting, and fake friends.

I apologize for the super long post, but I needed to get this out to more than three people. If you read that entire thing, I love you.

A line from a thank you letter from my pastor (she's crazy about those things) to my parents, thanking them for me serving on the mission trip:

"She met many challenges this year - including a site that was not her first pick."

What a subtle way to say that I had to figure out how to deal with everyone talking behind my back about me and my "incessant flirting."

Here's a rundown of the drama of my final mission trip:

My old friend (a guy who I used to date but is now just my friend) came with and we talked a lot and people kept asking if there was anything going on. Of course there wasn't, cause I have a boyfriend who I love more than anything. Everyone was getting upset with us because we're super close and very comfortable with each other. So we'd sit in the back of the van with my nonbiological sister (henceforth referred to as my sister) and we'd lay on each other and fall asleep. I never thought it was a big deal because I never realized that how I was acting would come of as super flirtatious. Until my sister talked to me about it, that is. And then I felt bad, and then forgot to check how I was acting and went back to how I automatically acted around him.

I also made a new guy friend on the trip from Illinois, and felt comfortable enough with him to do things like put my legs up when we were sitting on a couch and tell him about what happened with my old best friend. My sister took this for more flirting (which, for the record, he did not), and continued to yell at me, now for flirting with two guys while having a boyfriend.

While all of this was going on, I had written my guy friend (the original source of my "flirtatious behavior") a note about how I missed talking to him (as we had grown apart over time), was happy that he's sober (he's never been exactly a "good kid"), how I was getting annoyed with how people were perceiving us, apologizing if it was coming off like I was flirting with him, and how I didn't understand why we're friends, considering how different we are. He wrote one back saying how he's gonna start talking to me more, reaffirming that he's sober, was also annoyed with people's perceptions, saying he understood that I didn't mean to be flirting, and explaining why we're friends. All seems fine and dandy in my friendship with him, right?

Apparently, he told my sister that that note I wrote was a "creepy love letter" and was in on the whole "let's talk about Avery behind her back" thing that it seemed like everyone was part of. I talked to my sister about all this and we got in a huge fight because I started getting defensive because one of my biggest fears (that people talk behind my back and fake their friendships because they hate me) was coming true. She got upset because I was getting upset, and it ended up with her calling me a whore, prick, and dumbass, and saying she wanted me out of her life.

I've gone to her house meaning to apologize and hopefully mend our broken relationship, but she wasn't home. I've tried talking to the guy, but he hasn't answered me whatsoever, so I don't even know what to do with him.

So in one sentence, my last mission trip consisted of me thinking I was getting closer to two of my best friends and then finding out that they were being fake because of my unintentional tendency to be flirtatious. Pretty great, huh?

At least my boyfriend still loves me.

A couple things.

Don’t you just love when you find out people who you thought were your friends have been talking shit behind your back for the past week?

Don’t you just love when your “sister” says you’re a whore, prick, dumbass, and tells you to stay out of her life?

Don’t you just love when your biggest fears come true?

Don’t you just love when everything was going perfect until one conversation?

Don’t you know when shit goes down over something you never tried to do and has ballooned out of your control?

Don’t you love when people don’t understand your side of the story?

Don’t you just love staying up until 2 am crying because you don’t know how to fix any of it?

Cause I don’t

Graduated.

The cards have all been opened.

The relatives have all gone home.

The cap and gown are hung up.

The diploma is in it's folder.

The grad parties have been started.

The hypnotist has entertained.

The comedians have been vulgar.

The food has been late.

The ice cream bar has been scavenged.

The henna has stained.

The boxers and tv have been won.

The students have been sufficiently sleep deprived.

The naps have been taken.

And the class of 2011 has graduated.

I still just don't know if it's hit me yet. Yeah, I've had my grad party, gone through commencement, and attended the all night senior grad party, but I don't know if I've realized that I'm actually done with high school quite yet.

I will never have to take another class in that building again. It's quite likely that I will never see those people I hung out with until five in the morning with again. I am going to college in the fall and starting a new chapter in my life, as corny and cliche as that sounds. But it's true.

Everything is changing and I'm not entirely sure how to deal with it all.

If only.

If only I felt like it. If I felt beautiful without makeup, I wouldn't wear it nearly as much. Sure, I'd still play around with fun eyeshadows and such, but I wouldn't feel the need to put on eyeliner and coverup before I leave the house everyday. I wish I didn't need makeup to feel beautiful.

Tumblin

One could learn a lot about me by visitng this site and taking a look around.

http://amaijala9792.tumblr.com/

Virgo to the bone.

Absolutely. I think this sums a big part of me up quite nicely. Or rather easily, as it isn't particularly a good thing. Depending on who I'm with, I won't be myself. I have comments in my head that I won't say because I'm worried they'll dislike me for it. So I keep quiet until I'm with someone I know won't judge me or even better, when I'm by myself.

I keep things bottled up and then some days I just snap and feel like shit and then feel bad cause I vent everything to my boyfriend. I make it seem like a big deal when it really isn't. Although it is to me. Which frustrates me. That whole fact that things that really shouldn't bother me do bother me and I can't do much about it. Darn my Virgo brain.

Other Virgo qualities:

-dedicated

-reliable

-creative

-analytical

-observant

-organized

-indecisive

Sound familiar? Yeah, me too.

I might get published?

Okay, that's probably a long shot, but it's possible. You see, I entered a poetry competition, which if I win, I will get $1000 and my poems published in a magazine. And I thought I'd share with you guys my entries. These may or may not already be somewhere on my blog, but I'm gonna put them all here for ya just in case.

The Velvet Man

A girl with auburn hair so wild,

She truly is her mother’s child.

The Holy Book is her obsession,

Her mother’s pearl her prized possession.

Innocent and lovely she descends he stair,

Of the Velvet Man she is unaware.

In the darkness he does stand,

Gleaming blade in his right hand.

Her violet eyes glisten with fear,

As the Velvet Man grows ever near.

With one fell swoop, he makes it fast,

The breath she breathes shall be her last.

The crimson drops fall to the floor,

As the Velvet Man moves out the door.

Why she died none shall know,

All but one, her murderous foe.

Upon the book she held so dear,

Now lay her last crystal tear.

Around the neck of the poor girl,

Stained with blood, lay her mother’s pearl.

When to rest at last she is laid,

Promises of love are surely made.

In the valley where light does play,

It is there she will forever stay.

As time drags slowly on,

She lays beneath the fiery dawn.

But down below the Velvet Man will wait,

Until the next one comes from fate.

(Some parts inspired by true events, most of this is made up. Also, not the original formatting. I had to change that so that it was within the line limit)

Stolen Romances

When I was 13 my mother told me not to doubt.

A boy would come to show what life’s about.

The boys, they stole my heart.

The boys, they ripped me apart over and over again.

But I stayed strong and life carried on.

When I was 15 my father told me not to fear.

A boy would come to hold me safe and dear.

The boys, they’ve come and gone.

The boys, they’ve all moved on over and over again.

But I stayed strong and life carried on.

When I was 18 my boyfriend told me not to cry.

He’d be there to always dry my eyes.

This boy, he’s always there.

This boy, I know he cares.

I’ll never need them again cause I have you.

And life carries on.

Oh I’ve tried and I’ve tried and I’ve tried and I’ve tried

To figure out what I’m feelin’ inside.

Cause when I look at you,

I see twirl around dances

And stolen romances.

I see us pickin’ guitars,

Gettin’ lost in our cars.

I see you holdin’ my hand,

Fallin’ from laughin’ so hard.

But most of all, I see what I’ve been missing.

When I look at you,

I see what I’ve been missing.

Poetic Urgency

Under the waves of smiles

Falling asleep to a lullaby of laughter

Caressed by a thousand dreams

Safe in magnetic arms

Moonbeam eyes search a soul while the

Twilight illusions fade away

A loving embrace pulls like the tides and

A glowing veil descends

Plaid summers and velvet winters

Seep to corners of memory

A celestial experience is cast

Upon diamond skylines

Under the waves of smiles

Falling asleep to a lullaby of laughter

Caressed by a thousand dreams

Safe in magnetic arms

Sunny chaos reinforces

The universe given new life

With the atmosphere of a thousand moons

Singing hypnotic hymns

Secrets are let out in a breath

Bathed in poetic urgency

A picture of perfect serenity

A sigh and a whisper

Under the waves of smiles

Falling asleep to a lullaby of laughter

Caressed by a thousand dreams

Safe in magnetic arms

Wish me luck.

Three weeks is not very long.

Long story short, I need to get a job. Okay, so it isn't really that long of a story, I just wanted to say that. Nevertheless, I need a job/spending money/college money.

And thinking of all of this getting-a-job-ness has gotten me thinking about other things. Like I'm graduating in three fuckin weeks. That's nothing. In three short weeks I'm going to put on my cap and gown and be officially detached from the last four years of my life. Not to mention the day before, when I will be getting hugs and "congratulations" and "what are you going to study where" and "you've grown up so fast" thrown at me repeatedly. Oh and money, which relates back to my little needing money schpeal.

But aaaaaanyway. This whole graduating thing is freaking me out a bit. I feel so gosh dang old. I'm graduating? These people that I've been seeing for 9 months of the year for the past 13 years of my life are graduating too? What is this, we don't graduate. That's for old people. None of us look like we're old enough to graduate, do we? What the hell are we going to do with our lives? Am I ever going to see these people again after three weeks from tomorrow? (Granted, it doesn't bother me that I won't ever see most of my grade again, but still.) It's freaky.

Yes, I'm excited to go to my dream college in four months (four months, really?) and meet new people and have the time of my life, but at the same time I'm not super thrilled to leave all of my friends behind. Getting this giant packet of information and forms today in the mail made me realize how much of an endeavor college really is. This is some serious shit.

Now I'm rambling and probably sounding like a pathetic, paranoid, idiot, so I'm gonna stop now. :)

Crazy tastes in music.

So I've been wanting a playlist on my page for a while now and I've finally gotten around to it/figured it out. And I've been searching all the randomness that is my taste in music on playlist.com and am super happy when I find my little known music there. Such as The GazettE. They're this awesome visual kei band from Japan and I added three of their songs (Guren, Taion, and Cassis) to my playlist (which is at the bottom of my page if you'd like to search through it). And yes, they're in Japanese.

I'm pretty sure there is a wide variety of musical tastes on that thing, which is why I have it on shuffle. It's fun to see what'll pop up next.

Happy listening.

Look what I found on Tumblr.

“Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.”

-- Rosemarie Urquico

"The first time I saw you smile,

My eyes said: She's beautiful..

My brain said: jakllj;ljijerloafjolfkjld

My heart said: Dibs."

-letters to crushes

 

[Yay, opportunity to use all my lovey-dovey couple pictures]

Things of simple awesomeness.

Think before you insult.

Sometimes I wear a lot of makeup.

Sometimes I wear weird glasses.

Sometimes I wear a dress.

Sometimes I wear odd colored nail polish.

Sometimes I wear short shorts.

Sometimes I wear sweats.

Sometimes I wear glasses.

If you make a comment on what I'm wearing, I'm not going to just shrug it off. If it's a compliment, I'll feel genuinely good. If it's a rude comment, whether kidding or serious, I'm going to take it seriously. In my mind, even if it was a joke, there was something that prompted that joke and it will get to me. Maybe just for a second, maybe not. I wish I could just shrug stuff off like that, but I can't.

Sometimes I'm quiet.
Sometimes I'm loud.
Sometimes I'm incessant.
Sometimes I'm annoying.
Sometimes I hit people.
Sometimes I come off as a bitch.
Sometimes I joke.

I do a lot of things, but when it comes down to it, I never intentionally hurt anyone. If I make comments that may seem hurtful, I definitely do not mean them that way. I joke. I'm not intentionally mean. I'm sorry if I come off that way. And again, if you tell me I'm a jerk, if you tell me I'm a bully, I may laugh it off, but inside, I'm not laughing. My brain stops for a second then works at full speed trying to figure out what they mean. Do they really think that? Are they joking too? Should I stop? My insecurities make it impossible for me to take anything as just a joke.

Sticks and stones may break my bones,
But words will never hurt me.

Really? Really? That is the biggest load of shit I've ever heard. Words can be the most hurtful weapons of all. They get inside a person's head, break them down from the inside. They keep people up at night going over all of their actions and words, trying to figure out where they went wrong. They can make people go insane. Words will never hurt me. Yeah, right. You try being called a nerd, fat, ugly, a homo, good-for-nothing, worthless, stupid, ditzy, bully, or any of the other terrible names thrown at people and see how you like it. See if you can just shrug it off.

Words hurt, trust me.

So next time, think before you insult.

Music and lyrics and the like.

Most people who know me, know that I love writing and music. I don't go a day without listening to music at some point and I have a hobby of writing poetry and stories and the like. Both are something I've always loved and have wanted to incorporate into my future somehow.

This morning I got a slightly overwhelming compliment. You see, I wrote a poem for a Spanish project and since I got done super fast, went to go sit with my friends. One of them asked to read my poem and I let him. He was quite impressed and I showed him another poem I had written for English. Here's where the slightly overwhelming compliment comes in. When he finished reading it he said "You wrote this? You should write lyrics for [insert-name-of-mutual-friends'-band-here]." I wasn't quite sure what to say to that. I do love to write and I sometimes try to write songs but writing for another band? It'd be cool, but who knows.

Now, I've always been intrigued by lyrics. I admire bands/artists who write their own music and lyrics, play their own instruments and are good at them, and who don't need to be super electronically altered to sound good. I like listening to unknown artists preform and I love reading original lyrics. Some of my favorite songs have some rather odd lyrics, I'd have to say. I've recently (aka today) been wondering if my favorite bands write their own music and the one I looked up was Motion City Soundtrack. They have some pretty awesome music and lyrics and I've liked them for a while and I'm pretty happy to say their lead singer, Justin Pierre, writes a large amount of their music.

Look up who writes your favorite songs.

Some of my favorites of MCS:

"In early '99 I beat the Ocarina of Time.
I'm quite the legend in this town." From "@!#?@!"

"What if there's nothing more to us?
We're just carbon-based.
We're just pixie dust." From "Skin and Bones"

"Let's get fucked up and die..
I'm speaking figuratively, of course..
Like the last time that I committed suicide.. social suicide.." From "L.G. Fuad" (Let's Get Fucked Up and Die)

"Betty can’t quit carving question marks in my wrist
How come we’re so alone" From "The Future Freaks Me Out"

"There’s a voice there’s a voice there’s a voice in my head
It’s rather soothing and it tells me I’d be better off dead
But if I beat it maybe punch it even kick it away then everything will be alrightly. I swim in pharmaceuticals" From "Delirium"

"I'll be back tomorrow
I'll be back at a quarter to 11
I'm half drunk, I can’t see straight
A hero zero with a capital Z (that's me)
Singing songs from the balcony as the city crumbles
Under the powers of an evil doctor rocket science monster
with capabilities to destroy the entire universe" From "Captial H"

PS. If someone wants to be a doll and buy me the MCS album "Even If It Kills Me" I'll love them forever cause it'll complete my collection :)

It's not fair.

Only one of you will understand this first part.

It's not fair. It's simply not fair. What if I never get to do it? What if I'm stuck doing music until I'm finally able to be a table leader in five fricken years? It's just not fair. Is this one of those things where you gotta start out doing it and then you're "one of them" and you do it until you can't anymore, then you switch to another team? Because that is so not fair. I want that connection with weekenders that only their YTLs have. Yeah, music is great and I love it, but I want the chance to have my own table. To be a part of their discussions and transformations instead of just watching it.

But I'm not going to ask for a change. That's just an easy way out. That's just a ticket to be looked at as a whiny bitch who can't handle when things don't go her way. I know I'm on this team for a reason and damn it, I'm not going to give up and ask for a change just cause I wanted something else. I'll just ask for it next time. There's a reason why I'm where I am and I'm not going to deny God's will. I'll get over it. I'll be fine.

But it's not fair.

But then, life is never fair. The people who don't deserve the great things get them while the ones who work and want and dream are stuck on the bottom. Granted, this isn't always true, but that's the mood I'm in right now so that's what I'm saying. When we don't get what we want, we just gotta suck it up and do the best we can with what we've got. Whether it be a grade, a job, a relationship that didn't go over as you planned. Part of life is figuring out how to make do with what you're given.

 

And damn it, that's what I'm going to do.