My new golden heart

I have wanted a locket of my own ever since I saw my grandmother’s (which is home to a picture of my grandfather in his military uniform, if I recall correctly). My mom also owns one that my daddy gave her. It seems like every woman who has a loving significant other owns at least one locket. Well, I wanted to be that woman who has a loving significant other. Turns out I became one.

I got Robby a winter jacket for Christmas (which I have been wanting to write on this blog for weeks!). On top of that, I (with my mom’s help) made him a fleece Yankee blanket to keep him warm – sense the theme going on here? A winter jacket sounds like a weird gift, you might be thinking. But, you’d have to know Robby to understand. He is someone who wore two hoodies and a hat hoping they could replace the warmth a winter coat could provide. I was sick of seeing him cold, so I bought him the nice coat you’ll see him wearing from now on (since he loves it so much).

I opened my gift from him and found a delicate, gray pouch. When I opened it carefully, a beautiful gold locket made its way into my eyesight. My jaw dropped. The front of the heart locket says “I Love You” and has a fancy flower design. I could not believe that he remembered that I wanted one badly since I didn’t really remember mentioning my longing for one very often. I opened it and found that it was empty, but then was happy thinking that he could help me choose the pictures to go inside of it. And boy, were there plenty of pictures to choose from. The next package I unwrapped was just as special: a beautiful oak jewelry box where I can keep the locket safe from harm. Just tonight, before the clock struck midnight and brought 2011, we picked and filled the locket with two very special pictures.

“Let’s see if you can keep that for sixty years like your grandma has,” said Papa after I showed the locket to him on Christmas Day.

“I plan to,” I said with a determined smile (at least, I hope it looked like I was determined)!

The pictures I have placed inside of the heart-shape will remain forever. I don’t plan on ever removing them from their new home.

The next day, mom told me that for my dad’s and her first Christmas together, he got her a gold locket (the one I mentioned earlier) and a jewelry box to keep it in. What a wonderful coincidence.

Everything

This Sunday night thing seems to be a trend for me lately. I guess it’s the thought of facing a full week of school that just scares me out of sleeping. Going to sleep means that the morning comes sooner, and what fun is that? Not much fun at all. I’m a night owl; always have been. I probably always will be.

We just this past week off from school. It didn’t really feel like a vacation to me, though. Maybe it’s because during our last vacation I was in Florida enjoying and exploring different parts of Disney World every day. My iHome blared a song to me every morning this week at 8:02 AM (because I’m weird and am not okay with waking up on a more regular number). 8:02 isn’t sleeping in for me. Sleeping in means rolling out of bed sporting a beautiful bedhead at around 11 and reaching for luncheon fixings rather than the cereal, bowl, milk and spoon. It was a beautiful week, just the same. The reason why falls onto the shoulders of one person in particular. I bet you’re sick of hearing about him. : )

There, of course, wasn’t a day where we weren’t together for at least a few hours. On a few days, we were together ALL day. To celebrate two happy months together, I surprised him with a picnic lunch that we ate in a meadow he had told me about way back when. After that, I went home. Then, I made dinner for him (everything I made was his favorite) and he showed up with a record I had told him I wanted a month ago when we were at the mall after my All-County concert. He remembered the littlest thing, and that alone made everything perfect. After supper, we went up to my room, popped the record into my record player, and got lost in conversations we had while we were in the Octopus’s Garden (the record was The Beatles’ Abbey Road, in case you didn’t recognize the hint I just gave).

Everything seems too good to be true. Everything is falling right into place. Every morning this past week, I thought about what Robby and I would do later that day and that alone made me happy. Imagine how happy I became as soon as I was in his presence and his embrace. It’s the strongest feeling of happiness I’ve ever felt wash over me all at once. It’s a beautiful thing, this happiness. I never want it to go away.

Tomorrow, I return to a school that finally noticed me for a different talent after the performance I gave the Friday before we left for vacation. But, more on that the next time I get around to writing on this thing, I promise.

Everything is connected and beautiful

It was beautiful. The snow glittered in the light the streetlamp gave off and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. He held my hand as we trudged across his yard, he in his boots and me in my Converse high tops. After awhile, I couldn’t handle it anymore, and he noticed. He scooped me up and carried me to our destination: the swings.

I immediately felt disappointment upon arriving. I saw that I couldn’t swing because the snow was so high that the necessary pumping would be impossible. He, wanting to fix the problem, set about trying to fling the swing over the bar to make the chains go up a little higher. When he couldn’t do it, I settled on the lowly swing (my pew, to those who read my poetry…oh wait, you don’t), and straightened my legs as he pushed me toward the tree. He stumbled and fell when he was pushing me, and I swung back and ended up on top of him. We got soaked, but couldn’t help but laugh. I kissed him, kept laughing, and then Becky and Thad came over to assist us after witnessing the whole thing.

Thad had a different way of getting the swing to go over the bar, so when he failed his first try, Robby tried the new method, and succeeded. I was finally free to swing without the snow on the ground interfering.

It was just like it had been over the summer, only so different. I can’t believe I sat on the same exact swing over the summer without knowing whose backyard I was practically in; without knowing that I would soon fall hard for the boy who lives in that yellow house. Because I am falling. Hard. And I know that once I’ve fallen all the way, he’ll be there to catch me so I don’t smash into a million pieces upon welcoming the ground with my body. He’ll be there to keep me safe as he has been doing for the past month and a half of my life. Since that night he stopped my tears and made me laugh. Since that night, I realized that there was something special about him.

After I got too high up for him to push me anymore, I looked at the tree whose leaves I had kicked over the summer. Things had definitely changed, but it was a beautiful change. The cold air pierced my exposed hands and bit into them, giving them more sore and dry cracks, but I didn’t care. It felt so good to swing after months of not having the chance to.

I slowed down, and he greeted me with a kiss. That’s the best greeting I could have asked for. It showed that I had left one dreamland and entered another one.

We trudged through the snow again, holding hands and looking up at the stars. It’s a beautiful thing. But then again, everything has been beautiful lately. To me, anyway.

One day summer slowly floated away

I have decided that I hate fall. I absolutely abhor it. When I was younger I thought I had to love it just because my birthday happens to fall (haha) within those select three months, but now I know better. I’ve learned to hate it.

Sure, the trees are pretty. Beautiful, even. Possibly even gorgeous. But… their prettiness doesn’t distract me from the true evils yet to come. I can see right through that pretty, innocent little façade. They can’t fool me.

I love summer. I love its warmth and the constant urge to go swimming in our beautiful pool. I found one thing I hate about it, though: that fall is the season right after.

Autumn just brings in a whirlwind of newness that leaves me dazed. It’s a season of starts. School, Cross Country (practices and endless trips to the “start”ing line), coldness, unwanted but necessary organization, and just all of that crap. And Autumn takes the sun away and leaves the world cold.

Summer’s still in the air for now, but I can feel it slowly floating away. Fall winds and clouds are slowly invading my tropical dreamland. The sun is going down sooner than it should. Oh, how I wish it was still June!

“Ignorance” is my new best friend

I think I have listened to the song “Ignorance” over ten times. And sure, that’s not a lot compared to the people that have played it 500 times and more, but that’s a big number for me. I don’t like to listen to the same song all the time; I like to mix it up a bit. Listening to “Ignorance” over 500 times in one sitting would make me hate it.

It still sounds like Paramore. The title looks like a word Paramore would use. I’m sure that if I were to taste the song it would taste like Paramore (whatever that flavor is). Hayley’s voice seems a little edgier in this song than any song I have ever heard her sing. It’s still beautiful, of course, but this makes me anxious to hear the other tracks on the new album Brand New Eyes. I have a live version of “Where The Lines Overlap,” but it’s so hard to listen to something that has screaming from people at the concert in the background. I guess I will have to wait until September 29th.

All We Know Is Falling is still my favorite Paramore album and has been since its release in 2005. Maybe this Brand New Eyes will top it. I don’t know though; it’s always hard to beat the original.

I cannot wait until September 29th.

BrandNewEyesgroupshotIGNORANCEhayleysingingbiglollipop

Susan Boyle: an inspiration

My mother got on the computer, went straight to youtube, and pulled up a video from a show called Britain’s Got Talent. “This is their version of American Idol – and you just have to see this,” she told me.

She clicked on the arrow to play the video, and it began. The first second of the video began something that was to go on for seven minutes and thirty-four seconds more, and I watched in awe as this woman performed. She confessed that she’d never been kissed, had on a frumpy little dress, her name tag wasn’t even on her dress (it was stuck to her chest), and her hair needed some brushing. I instantly fell in love with her appearance and attitude.

The audience angered me in the beginning. They heckled, laughed, and their expressions openly admitted their opinions of her. I could instantly hear their thoughts in my head. Susan didn’t seem to care; I’m sure living with this humiliation for 47 years has made her strong. She didn’t back down, she didn’t shake with nervousness when she sang…overall she seemed so confident, and I wish I could have been there to witness this amazing performance. When she opened her mouth to sing, I swear that you must have been able to hear a pin drop in the audience. Her voice was so powerful, and that definitely hushed up the people that had been heckling her only moments before. They stereotyped her, and they were proven wrong. Don’t judge a book by its cover.

This woman, this one frumpy-looking woman poses as such an inspiration. It’s hard living in this particular time period. Growing girls are told what is “beautiful” by pictures they see in magazines and on television. Supposedly, if you’re not beautiful, no man will ever love you, and you will not get anywhere in life. Susan Boyle is the perfect example of the opposite of this. Maybe she’s not the most attractive woman on the planet, but her soul, her attitude, her voice… all are beautiful. I think that maybe the people of the world needed to realize this.

Thank you, Susan, for providing a different example for girls to look up to. You proved everyone wrong as soon as you opened your mouth and that beautiful music escaped. You’re going to go far, and now the many people who are inspired by you will as well.

After seven minutes and thirty-five seconds, my mom looked up to me and smiled. I rubbed my arms to rid them of the goosebumps that had risen, and tried to hold back a few tears. “I told you,” she said with a grin.

“We are going to pick ourselves up, and dust ourselves off”

Today my brother and I were supposed to be at the orthodontist at exactly twelve o’clock to let them torture us. My mother called the office yesterday and informed them that we would not be attending our appointment. We all wished to watch Barack Obama’s Inauguration.

Every classroom I entered today had either their TV or their SMART Board tuned into the news, watching this historical event.

In 7/8 period Global, we sat down and began writing the thematic essays for our mid-term examination. I finished mine, and sat twiddling my thumbs (well, I read) until my teacher, Mr. Leous decided it was finally time to turn on his TV. “You can put your essays away now,” he said.

We watched. And watched. And watched. I mouthed the Lord’s prayer along with the man who recited it, and then Aretha Franklin got up and sang her heart out. The bell rang just as she started singing, so my friend and I hustled to the Chorus Room, and turned on the TV. We stood around the piano until Mr. Lerew entered the room, switched the channel to a station without any static and told us we could watch it for the whole period as long as he could have five minutes at the end.

Biden became Vice President (when they said “would everyone please rise,” we rose and when Mr. Lerew came along and motioned for us to sit down, we simply told him that they told us to stand), and then came the short performance with the lovely violin and Yo Yo Ma on cello. My jaw dropped, and at 12:01 it was announced that though Obama had not been sworn in yet, he was now our new president.

His speech was beautiful. I hung onto his every word and was thanking God that it wasn’t Hilary I was listening to at that moment. The way he talks makes me believe that he is an extremely smart man – there were and are never any stutters or silences. I had tears in my eyes as he spoke, and was so relieved that he is our president. I feel so much better about our country now that he is in charge.

I will never forget that historical moment for as long as I live. I sat in a choir room filled with friends and watched the TV with such interest as the subtitles (which we attempted to take away, but to no avail) echoed everything he said. When I am older and my kids are learning about this moment from their history textbooks, I can smile and tell them that I witnessed it as it happened. I will always remember what happened today.