You Still Make My Heart Race

Last post of the decade.

Just wanted to say it's funny that we can look back on five years and have it feel like it went by in five minutes.

I can't help but still feel inspired by the same things. My heart is filled by the same people and though sometime I'm reluctant to let in new ones, it's only because I want to hold on to the memory as long as possible.

I'm not reluctant to grow. If it were up to me, I'd take everyone and everything with me. If I don't, I want them to know they made my life the amazing thing it is, and I'd be wrong to try and sabotage it.

I had a good run in 2009. I want every dream I had for 2010 and the years after to come true.

Happy New Year to you.

Star Light, Star Bright

I always wanted a window seat. I always wanted to have someone wake me up in the middle of the night by throwing pebbles towards my room.

It's the fact that someone out there wants to talk to you, is thinking about you.

It's like those superstitions where if you drop a fork, someone said your name.

It's like all those stars named for people.

It's knowing someone who sits on their roof, or at least used to.

When I have a house, I want a place where there are lots of windows, so that every natural light can fill me with thoughts of other people.

(When I'm sad, I never look higher than straight ahead).

Literally looking up can lift your spirits.

Hearts all over the World Tonight

You gotta believe in something bigger than yourself. Now I'm not talking religious, spiritual, high and mighty-a-tude, I'm talking about the world outside of your situations, your family, your friends, outside of you.

Maybe "believe" isn't the right word. Maybe for you, it's faith or hope or see, but the point is, there's a world out there, and it's easy to get lost in it because it's big. I want to be the one to say that that's okay because it doesn't make you small or less important. It doesn't.

Sometimes I like to believe that all the [crap], and mess and hurt that goes on in life has a point. And other times I'd really like it to just stop so I can be happy again. The hypochondriac in me has already considered that maybe the outcome of all of it is actually going to be something, even if something means there's something wrong. The blogger in me has this much to say:

Sure, I often carry around all my problems and history with me, but maybe that just means that my heavy heart is big and capable of big, amazing things. I honestly believe that my emotions are in there, that that's where caring for a person begins and ends, and that things can break it. Though it can, at times, be cumbersome, it's also the thing that keeps me alive.

You gotta believe in something bigger than yourself. For me? It's my heart.

Keep it Secret, Keep it Safe.

I used to have Italian neighbours. We got on really great, the kids lived in the house behind us and their grandmother lived to our left. I think I called her Nona.

Me and my brother went to her house a lot. There was a big empty room with a rocking horse in it, much older than the one I preoccupied myself with in Please Mum, but just as fun. Her kitchen walls were green, and I used to play with her giant doily of a table cloth as she fed me biscotti. (Back then, I didn't know it was supposed to be hard).

I can't remember much else about her house, but it was the stuff outside of it that I miss anyway. Ceiling cross-hatched with with wood that still smelt like wood... flowers and vines (in Burnaby of all places)... and what looked like an old stove and cauldrons for flower pots. Stone and brick tiled the ground and it was just, an every day beautiful kind of place. I haven't been there in a while.

Every year we'd have this giant party for my dad's and Nona's son's restaurant. At night, nona's backyard would change into the bar, and there were wines and coffees, but I always went for those Chubby sodas and the sugar cubes. It'd be really dark because there was only the porchlight.

I hear a lot of people talking about secret places they have, whether it be their roof, their last vacation spot, or a space behind their bed where they just write all the time. That was one of mine, but I think I've found a new one. I've shown it to 2 people in the past 7 years that I've known about it, one of which doesn't even read this blog. :P I think secret places are important, even if they are just memories. I say go visit Nona's backyard.

3 and 6 will happen before I'm 30

No matter how irrational a hope is, I think each one of us should hold onto something that's maybe not so realistic.

I have been told that I am childish because of my hopes, and sometimes I want to tell people that I am only seventeen, not already seventeen. (Even though I'm almost eighteen).

I hope I can be stubborn enough to fight for myself.

***

HOPE turned into a negative word, and should not be used to antagonize people who give.

***

Some of my hopes are valid, like the one about becoming someone I'm proud of in 10 years, or any number divisble by 3 on my bucket list.

But my irrational hope is that I could go my entire life without consuming alcohol. What's yours?

"Honest to Blog"

Short one today. No picture either.

I put makeup on before work today because my eyes were puffy from last night. Spent about 20 minutes with it on and scrubbed it off. Felt better.

Must you yell? All I did was huff a bit and you puffed me right into oblivion. Damnit, that's like the 2,102,094th second chance I've given you.

I should probably stop thinking about her and focus on you. You make me happy, not something I'm used to. You say I make you happy, also not something I'm used to. Usually we just say "opposites attract," but that doesn't make me feel better about being different. Especially when you're the same as everyone else - it's just me.

I like to tell people "the good thing about me is, that I'll drop whatever's bothering me if a friend is bothered." I stand by that, and if I'm wrong it's one of the few things I'm sorry for.

It's funny how cliche life can be. People say they hate this and that, but when this and that are gone, they'd rather it be here than there.

What if I don't go back to school?

What if I don't come home after work tomorrow?

What if people always remember me as the mispelled version of my name in the yearbook?

I'm a Sucker, Shoot Me.

Maybe I LIKE the movie "27 Dresses," but I'll have you know that it is mostly because the night I went to see it, "Benny and the Jets" came on in the car, only to be heard later again in the movie. Hella perfect.

I LIKE CHICK FLICKS. Once, a guy said to me that he didn't like using that term, which I completely respect, but you know what? I've already accepted that I'm a part of their key demographic so I'm allowed to say things. For all the guys who read my blog, I apologize if I'm not being very relatable, but this has been on my mind for a while now.

What I don't understand is why every movie I see has to include some form of infidelity or a reason to make me hate sexy women and greedy men. I'm sure those women are very nice in real life, but I cannot help but inflame with discomfort (to put it nicely) when Silver Spectre or Scarlett Johansson (do not even get me STARTED on the guy I knew who worshiped Megan Fox), do something on the screen for all the guys out there in the audience. THERE ARE GIRLS THERE TOO, and we like to think we're okay looking without having blue eyes. Brown eyes can be sexy too, ya know.

So can uneven tan lines, good-smelling frizzy hair, and skin that's soft but not soaked with sweat or pool water.

I'll fully admit to half of it being my irrationality, but I'd really like it if movie night didnt require me leaving with all this doubt of myself and questions for my boyfriend. He's a good guy, I shouldn't feel the need to cover his eyes because there really shouldn't be a crotch shot in an action movie. People make fun of me all the time for being a jealous little bugger, but I'm 5 feet and 130 pounds, give me a break! I was the girl who swore she would never show her stomach when she was 10 years old. I was the girl who was told when talking to a guy friend that she was "a dress, not a skirt." I'm also the girl who hopes her confidence never makes someone else feel like they suck.

To me, that's the definition of a bitch.

Girly movies. *Cave. Romantic comedies. *Double cave. I'll watch 9, how about that? I think what I really want is to be allowed to watch "My Sister's Keeper" and "Paper Heart" and not be made fun of by my friend's father when we rent things like that.

I'd also like to point out for kicks that I don't like Juno.

Good God, this blog went all over the place. I'd like to point out that right now I'm just looking to talk, talk, talk. There's not much else to do on a night in when you don't have a pet.