the one cool night of summer

I felt the craving in the roots of my teeth, in the roots of my hair. The craving to be awake, to run and not let my lungs or my ankles stop me. The prickling pull of sleep pressed into my right eyelid heavily, churned and begged for my fist to rub and rub and rub. The greatest relief is always itching your eye until it feels like your eyeball will be smashed into jelly.

I caressed the cold air by arching my back against it as it slowly creeped into my window. A cold breeze, the smell of the air filtering in through the screen the sweetest smell I know besides that of human skin. I miss smelling the skin of an arm slung over my shoulders in the morning, but tonight I did not miss any person who has held me in that way. I only missed their smell.

In the book I just finished, I knew the twist ending from page one. I knew she was dead the whole time and I waited for the twist to unfurl itself so the rest of the reading world would catch up. In the same way, I knew he would cheat from the first flick of his tongue against my ear lobe. In the same way I know that summer will blessedly melt to fall in what feels like no time at all.

via *

This Part is for Her

Weeks ago, I went back to the city I was sad in for two years. I was terrified to set foot on that red Cedar soil, especially knowing I would be seeing people who knew me back then. But, much to my naïve surprise, although the city was the same (minus a few new fast food conglomerates) the people had changed. They had grown as I had even though I expected much less for them. How terribly cruel of me to write these people off as two dimensional when I knew them when I was only living myself in one shade of misty gray.

I missed so much while I was being so sad. Years later, the same stage is serving new girls who will cry like me, lose their virginity like me, regret like me, fall in love like me and that is beautiful. As I drove through the canyon roads that kept me alive when no one was there or I had pushed them out, I stopped and sat by a lake full of ducks and mirrored trees.

I let the rain sprinkle glitter in my hair and thought how terribly sad it was that I was so hollow in such a beautiful place. How sad that the soft and caring breeze that always sneaks through these evergreens felt only like it was pushing me down. The lovely town drove me away with its own hands. My brain and the chemicals that live there turned the red rocks to flame until I ran back home to my blue mountains to cool my scorched hands. But how lovely to have been back and finally see the beauty there. How lovely to go back as me, embracing the sad little girl and holding her hand as we both wind through those leafy, canyon cliffs.

My photo

All or Nothing Day

In a world of constant change and seemingly constant destruction, it is so hard to find anything to hold on to, to keep yourself going. It can seem impossible when it feels like life is attacking you personally time and time again. Or when everything is going your way and suddenly the walls of your life crumble around you. I am constantly amazed at the resiliency of humans, of the unimaginable capacity of people to be given a crisis and choose to battle it and choose to stay strong.

via *

I understand that feeling to give up and the hopelessness that can strangle itself around us as we try so hard to breathe. But I've learned a secret as I've grown older: it's all a matter of choice. Choosing to live with hope is so hard and deserves to be noticed. Even if you are only capable of the smallest forms of hope, a tiny pinprick of hope in the middle of a sea of worry, that's enough. Hold on to that and let it grow. One of the best ways to do that is by finding stories of people who radiate with hope and love.

Heather Von St. James is a ten year Mesothelioma survivor. Mesothelioma is a rare form of cancer that occurs in the lining of the body's internal organs; it is also a disease with a usual diagnosis of 15 months. The largest cause of Mesothelioma is exposure to asbestos or inhalation of asbestos particles. Usually there is a latency period of many years before symptoms and diagnosis occur. Heather was diagnosed at the age of 36, right after giving birth to her beautiful daughter, Lily Rose.

Heather and her beautiful family

Heather went through treatment and beat her diagnosis of just 15 months to live, even having a surgery on February 2, 2006 to remove a lung (which she now celebrates each year with a day called Lung Leavin' Day, a day spent writing fears on plates and smashing them into a fire... sign me up for next year!) and through it all, she has kept her spirit of hope alive for herself, for her family, and for others suffering with Mesothelioma.

Mesothelioma accounts for around 3,000 cancer cases each year in the United States. Even if you haven't been personally involved with cancer, it touches all of our lives. About ten years ago, my aunt and uncle both died from two different forms of cancer nine hours apart. My entire family felt and still feels their loss and with that sort of cancer running rampant in our family, it can be so hard to stay hopeful and live life without fear. Even if cancer isn't your worry, there are so many things in this world that seek to frighten us. Heather's urge, as well as mine, is to work to fight that fear and remain alive and hopeful.

July 26th is National All or Nothing Day, a day that celebrates that carpe diem attitude that can pull a person through life. As Heather says, "I've been accused my whole life of wearing rose colored glasses and seeing life very optimistically and I have no intention of ever taking them off."

I'll be the first to admit to being susceptible to a bad attitude. I feel as though quite a bit of hardship and struggle has fallen on me. I've been through a lot in relationships, with my family, with my brain working very hard to keep me sad and treat me poorly. But at the end of the day, one thing has held true; I have survived all of it. Going through all of my struggles has made me so strong and it's given me more to draw from in my writing as well as in my conversations with others. It has made me be more open and lovely even through all of the blackness. I'm not saying that I always have a good attitude about life- far from it- but I do know that at the end of all things, I will be ok. I may be sad for a very long time, or bitter, but I'll feel it while it happens and then return to hope.

via *

Each day is a choice for you to love yourself and choose to carry on. Give your all. Love deeply and protect your heart. Don't be afraid to let yourself feel whatever it is you are feeling, but always remember the big picture. Don't let your heart turn hard even as others around you demand you to stop caring and demand you hate yourself like they hate themselves. Do not fall for it. You are lovely and capable. Suck the negative from your life and remember that your life is your story, your victories will make history. You are alive and you are good.

I encourage all of you to pull some of Heather's light into your life, especially on July 26th. Take life by the horns and live it to the absolute fullest because everything is temporary and every breath deserves to be celebrated even if you feel pain. Pain turns to power and beauty and I will believe that until the day I die. I will live my life with one of my favorite quotes in mind from John Green: "We need never be hopeless because we can never be irreparably broken."

I would also like to thank Heather Von St. James for reaching out to me and sharing her story with me. Thank you so much for letting me help spread your gift for hope and tell the world not only about this disease but about the restorative power of hope. Thank you thank you thank you.

Get out into the world, lovelies. Suck the life out of it and remember to remain hopeful. You are all lovely.

To learn more about Heather or Mesothelioma, here are some very helpful links:
Heather's Story
Mesothelioma
Mesothelioma Statistics
Lung Leavin' Day

bulletproof, in black like a funeral

I told you once of how my breath melted and dripped down my ribcage. You told me that wasn't possible and said I should stop stretching my words until they had no meaning. Unsurprisingly, my words were right and you were wrong. You turned my breath to icicles that stuck all over my vital organs and made my skin feel like the unexplored Arctic. When the lights shut off and anxiety swarmed like bees in the cracks between my bones, the friction snapped the ice apart and let it all melt down until it was bursting and waterfalling down my ribs. Your ice box soul slammed my velvet heart into a corner and melted me away. I promise you my breath was melting.

But now my breath is growing and sprouting in the early summer sun. I'll wear black because it makes me feel like sex and power and home and not because I want to disappear. I'll listen to all the songs I thought belonged to you until they're mine again and your breath, your eyes, your jaw are dead and gone. I'll reclaim them one by one and seek a voice that's full of sunshine and not radiation. 

via *

8.8.14

The shades were drawn and yet we held onto
the light that seemed to clamber through the dark
veils we had closed so suddenly. And yet
we stood, faces reaching for drops of sun.

via *

lightning rod

I like him, I think.

I don't remember how that feels.

The tripping trepidation,

the bubbling bewilderment,

the thought of someone new

on the horizon. 

A few weeks back

he told me he was ready to

give up on love.

He's been so hurt,

his care never being returned.

He says my friendship means the world.

How do I tell him

I've been hurt too,

I've given all of myself

and lost every inch of who I was

for love.

His words always inspire me,

his last name sounds like adventure,

his first name sounds like hope.

He is an artist.

I'm weak for artists.

His mind is marvelous.

He makes me feel creative.

Heard.

Understood.

Worthy.

Talented.

I don't want to see our 

friendship disappear. 

I can't make him ready if he's not. 

But every time his name flashes

on my phone screen,

my heart flips.

I told him not to 

give up forever.

Just for now.

Wait it out,

love will strike again.

How do I tell him that he

has become my lightning rod? 

via *

a small voice with large sentiment

Hello beautiful people.

For lack of better words, it has been a pretty hellacious few days here. My tightrope has been shaking quite a bit and my footing has fallen quite a few times. I'm still missing him like crazy, it feels like my internship will never end, a dear friend of mine is struggling with a break up (sends every hug in the world), and I just found out my grandmother was just diagnosed with cancer. So, this weekend could have been better.

There were a few bright sides this weekend, though. For one thing, my grandmother is just fine. She doesn't feel like it's her time or that it's anything to fret much over. She's still planning a cruise this February with my grandfather and she will be in Europe this summer come hell or high water. She's a soldier. I think I'm probably more upset than she is. I just don't like hearing about cancer in the fam. That hit my clan hard a few years ago and it always shocks my system. But if she's not worried, I'll try to not worry as well. But all good vibes are welcome her way.

Bright side two, a dear dear (I'm saying it Shelby) BEST friend of mine is staying in town and we get to live together :) I'm breaking the news. I'm excited. So thrilled. This girl has become a rock for me. I love you.

Bright side three. I had been missing my favorite bracelet and I found my favorite shirt missing yesterday. I was already emotional so I was just over the edge here you guys. BUT I found both my shirt and my bracelet.

Bright side four. You will never know how much it means to me to have you read my blog. This place is seriously the safest place I feel I have. I can say anything I want here and I love that I've created a home for my words here. The fact that some of you take a few moments out of your day to check in on my small corner of the internet means more to me than I can express in words. So here is just a little thank you from me. In hard times, the little encouragements I find in the comments or in direct emails light up my world. Today I got an email telling me my writing inspired them. But it's you that inspire me. Thank you so much for being here for me. I love you all with my whole heart.

Here's to a bright week ahead full of sun and moon xx

via *

gaga

"So. When I wrote the next song, it was one of the hardest things that I did because, you know, everybody went on about all the clothes, right? And all the makeup and the wigs and 'why does she always cover up?' So I decided I would use this opportunity to tell you why. Because the whole world is watching and what I wanted you to know is that like some of you, which is why I wrote Born this Way, I cared not for success, I cared not if people liked it. I cared only about that even just one person that it might touch. I was willing and will always be willing to risk it all for what I believe in. 

So here I am. The human underneath the wigs.

This is my real hair.

 And the reason for that is because what I was saying was like you, some of you, I've went through some really tough times. And tough times I've never really talked about. And I never talked about it because I didn't feel that I needed to use it for people to like my music. And I won't tell you exactly what it was now because, no need to be a downer, really. But I'm telling you because in order to write ARTPOP, I had to be willing to take off all the wigs and the makeup that I used to cover up the pain. And it's not that I don't love my wigs- I am my hair, obviously- it's just that I used them for a long time to become different people so that when I woke up in the morning and I didn't feel strong enough to be me I just created someone else. And it worked and it will work for all of you whenever you choose to do it. But in order to grow, be a better artist, and to become closer to you I knew I had to show you what's underneath all of the theater. So here I am. In order to get here, I had to climb through a lot of swine."
- Lady Gaga, iTunes Music Festival, September 1, 2013

This right here is why I have been a Gaga fan from day one and why I will continue to be one from here on out. She is real and raw and afraid, like all of us. She's not fake. She believes in what she creates. And look at how beautiful she is, natural and free.

via Tumblr

via Tumblr

This is a new song she wrote for her fans after she broke her hip and was unable to perform. Her passion and love of performance is something of her that has always inspired me and will continue to inspire me. Gaga, I love you. Also, I have been told we look alike. I'll take it.

Please give this song a listen. She is so talented. So beautiful. Let her inspire you too. Lyrics below.

It's off, it's on

The party's just begun

Take off, and run

Let's celebrate the fun of being young

I don't wanna grow up

I don't wanna grow up

But when the lights come on

You lift me up, and I feel strong

I won't be right without you

And I might break without you

I'd rather be poor and happy than rich and alone

I'll write hit songs about you

No matter how we'll get through

I'll keep on singing for a living, but I wanna be in love

And I wanna be with you

I wanna be with you

Lights off, lights on

The music has begun

More light, you run and get the bad guy's gun

I love the songs that you play

And I don't care what they say

Cause I was born this way

When I hear you scream, I hit the top of the stage

Close my eyes, I know exactly who I am

I won't be right without you

And I might break without you

I'd rather be poor and happy than rich and alone

I'll write hit songs about you

No matter how we'll get through

I'll keep on singing for a living, but I wanna be in love

And I wanna be with you

I wanna be with you

I won't be right without you

And I might break without you

I'd rather be poor and happy than rich and alone

I'll write hit songs about you

No matter how we'll get through

I'll keep on singing for a living, but I wanna be in love

And I wanna be with you

I wanna be with you

No matter what breaks me, I wanna be with you

High Noble

I'm happy I've gotten to a point in my life where I can see couples and instead of being jealous and annoyed, I can look at them with hope and admiration. I cannot wait to have what they have, I think.

I cannot wait until a man looks at me like that.

I cannot wait until I find my person.

I cannot wait to feel the peace of having my soulmate by my side.

I cannot wait to feel love again.

I watch TV shows and movies now and when I see a couple in love, instead of thinking "I want that man with ME" I think "I am so happy they found each other. These two souls have crossed paths somehow and made a beautiful, complete relationship. (Note... there are some characters that do belong with me. cough cough Jay Gatsby cough cough.)

A lot of people seem to call this attitude foolishly hopeful, young, inexperienced. But you know, as young as I am, I have had my fair share of experiences venturing in to the storm clouds of relationships and love. I've seen smooth sailing, I've seen stormy seas, and through it all my little boat has managed to hit land and endure, a little cracked but still afloat. What breaks us in the world, what rips our strings until they snap is what makes us hopeful.

"I'm not saying that everything is survivable. Just that everything except the last thing is." 

- John Green, Paper Towns

I was talking again with the dentist I'm currently working with when he asked me about my family. I told him my parents were divorced and he asked me why their relationship didn't work. I was surprised by his question but I slowly answered "They were different people. It wouldn't have worked no matter how hard they tried, I think. I wasn't there. I can't know." 

His eyes softened a bit as he thought for a moment. He smiled a bit and finally said:

"I'm sorry for that. But you know, relationships take a certain amount of science. It's like fusing two metals. You can take two base metals, two ugly metals that don't belong and through fire and heat, they come together to make an alloy, a high noble metal with such great value. But first, they have to start out weak and broken and ugly. You have to be very broken to come together to form something beautiful. Year after year of being broken and torn down lead to the heat of another person and after being broken down some more with them, you become this beautiful high noble. You have greater strength and greater resistance. And it's because you have them with you."

Let yourself be broken, let the fault lines rip you apart. Feel everything, but don't be afraid to fall in love again. I have fallen in love four times in my life and after each time, I thought there was no way I could ever feel whole again. But each time I let myself fall again, I felt my faith grow stronger instead of letting myself lose hope. 

The more broken, the more beauty is locked inside, the more precious of a metal you become. 

via Tumblr
Quote is from The Book Thief <3

empty chairs at empty tables

On this deliciously dreary afternoon I ventured back in time to my old high school to see my dear friend and former English teacher. He had a few books to recommend to me and I always love our chats. (Side note, nothing on Earth says "I care for you" like book recommendations. It's like peering into the souls of your friends and glimpsing their heart.) Sadly I missed him but I decided to stick around and walk the halls down to my old theater room, hoping to run in to my old theater teacher.

I creaked open the door and the room was black, not a soul around. It was perfect. I was so tired and so much in need of rest and in need of a trip home to that safe place. Students hadn't been there yet and the only people around were the ghosts of days gone by. There is nowhere more quiet that a school that has  yet to open its doors to students for the year. I needed that kind of quiet today. It was a long night and an even longer summer.

Even since I started doing theater in my junior year, an unbelievable 5 years ago, that room became my safe place. I learned about happy thoughts, I learned about releasing your inner child, I learned how to breathe. I grew up, I cried (a lot), I laughed (a lot), I loved, I was hurt. I spent more time in that room than anywhere else during high school, even my own house. My laughter still sings off of the walls, mixing with the silver memories of the people who came before me and after me. The people who used that room left so much of ourselves there. Where else were we allowed to paint the walls with words and colors?

I shut my mind off and reclined in the easy chair in the front row as a 16 year old Emma flitted across the stage with her friends, a 17 year old Emma recited a monologue stage right, an 18 year old Emma left the room for the last time after hugging her teacher goodbye, and saying hello to a now friend. I stole kisses in that room. I can still taste those sweet innocent embraces and the nostalgia in that room hugs me close each time I enter it. In that room I learned the difference between being tough vs being strong.

As I tiptoe in and out of my past, the feelings in that room stay constant. I miss how I felt in high school, how easy it was for me to find positivity and to recharge. The root of all of that was this room, this chapel of the creative; a sanctuary for the open and honest. Since I left high school, I've experienced a lot and it's jaded me. I haven't found a place like that room where I have felt so completely safe and comfortable and I remember after my visit today how vital it is to have that place. I want to try to keep my hope rooted in that room and rooted in my 16 year old self even as I grow and change.

I am so lucky I got such an amazing experience in high school and I am sorry if you didn't. Or if you wasted your time in high school by counting down the minutes until it was over or treating those around you like dirt solely because you felt like dirt about yourself. I was lucky, I suppose. Lucky to be surrounded by people who respected my opinions and allowed me to be open and allowed me to be myself. Lucky to have a room like this that I can always come back to.

Thank you, Andra

Thank you, Mr. Larsen

Thank you , Mr. Oram

Thank you, Mr. Rice

Thank you my friends

Thank you all. 

On Love and Lola

I love when a book keeps you awake at night and makes you hold your breath because of how much you love it. I love when you root for a character so much that when they finally get something they want, you cannot help but shed a tear and smile like an idiot by yourself in a dark bedroom at 2 in the morning.

I love books that inspire me and make me want to read more and more.

I love books that make me want to write.

I love books that make me want to love.

I finished a book called Lola and the Boy Next Door a few nights back. It was the second book published by Stephanie Perkins and the second book of hers that I have read. When I read her first book, Anna and the French Kiss, I could not wait to get my hands on Lola. (I just reread that... I love the awkward. Apologies to any readers named Lola.) 

Perkins, man. Girl can WRITE. She is hilarious and pure and full of love and hope. Her books always leave me wonderstruck and ready to fall in love. She writes these boys... I just.... they are unreal. In Anna, the boy de jour is Etienne St. Clair. He's British, and also French, and also American. And also the most perfect specimen I have ever met. Read. Whatever I love him. In Lola, it's Cricket Bell. Adorable, awkward, excited, lovely Cricket. 

Don't you hate it when you read a book by an author and it's just so good that you cannot imagine anything being better? And then you go into every other book comparing it to your favorite, never imagining anything could top it. It makes it hard to get in to the other book. I walked in to Lola missing Anna and that world. Luckily for me, ANNA IS IN LOLA! AND SO IS ST CLAIR. And I loved Lola and Cricket enough without the other couple being there. I didn't think it would be possible for me to like a book liked I like Anna but man, Lola won me over. 

If you know me, you know that I'm not the biggest fan of the "chick lit" genre. I don't read a ton of books about girls falling in love with the argumentative but suave boy in her math class. I like my books a little bit deeper. But these books are anything but chick lit. They are so smart and so funny. Stephanie Perkins writes these strong girls who aren't chasing boys but seem to happen upon them, just like real life. Her boys are charming and perfect but they have secrets and burdens that humanize them, like real life. Her books are real, if you catch my drift. The characters don't meet and then hate each other and realize through a series of shenanigans that they are meant to be. They just ARE meant to be. 

Back to the writing for a hot second. Stephanie Perkins, if you are reading this... first off... I love you so much. Your taste in music is superb (GUYS she makes playlists on 8tracks for her books so you can hear what she heard while writing. Get her out of here. She is perfect.) Here is my question for you. How do you manage to write such romantic and sexy books without every ONCE being corny or cheesy? 

Never once during these books do I feel like the romance is forced or cheesy. The whole time I was reading Anna my heart was racing with anticipation and lust for those two to get together. During Lola, I wanted to cry from the beauty and delicacy of it all. It never went over the top, the words were never cliche. It was fresh and alive and heartbreaking. This sentence happened in Lola and I wanted to die:

Did you get that? Anguished. ANGUISHED. Can any word describe love better? It's deep and overpowering and it hurts. Being in love hurts in the best of ways. It's honest and so powerful. Stephanie Perkins gets this. Probably because she loves her husband more than anyone on this planet. Seriously. I've never seen a woman more in love with her husband, and I'm only seeing it through her words. Each dedication is to her husband Jarrod. Also, read the final paragraph of each of her acknowledgement sections at the end of the books. It's for him and it is so lovely and overflowing with love. Stephanie Perkins you are beautiful. 

These books make me realize a lot about myself and my writing. But mostly about love. I have been in love a few times in my life. All consuming love. But I don't think anyone has ever loved me back. I have been loved, I have loved, but never equal amounts simultaneously. These books make me so thrilled to find my one. They excite me and urge me to keep on loving, even when it seems in vain. They show me what that love feels like, that one love that tears you apart easily and carries you to the ends of the Earth. Love shouldn't feel forced. It should click like these characters do, or like Stephanie Perkins with her husband. 

I can't wait to feel that mutual anguish and honesty. I cannot wait for that day when it all clicks. I cannot wait to find my own St. Clair or Cricket. In the mean time, the books will have to do.

Everyone. Go read these books now.

And Stephanie, thanks again for your words. You are truly beautiful.

To Kill a Mockingbird

Over on a book blog I read, Adam of Roof Beam Reader hosted a read-along of this American Classic. Like everyone in America I read this book in the 10th grade for my English class.

via Barnes and Noble

Unlike seemingly everyone in the world, I did not enjoy the book. At all. I honestly don't remember why I had such a distaste for this book. Probably because I'm one of THOSE people who like to hate things that everyone else loves. Just call me April Ludgate, guys.

Via Tumblr

This gif is me after reading this book for the second time, finally, after years and years of false hatred. This book is so gentle and so lovely and so so important. If you haven't read this book for yourself and not for school, go do that. Seriously. These words will live and breathe inside you.

As I started rereading this book I remembered little snatches of the story from my first time reading it but it was so fun to see the stories of Scout and Jem and Boo intertwine with the happenings in the town. This book says so much about us and who we are. It's about the loss of innocence and also staying innocent in the face of horrible adversity. 

I remember feeling that the narration was rather dry on my first read through of this book. This time around, I thought nothing of the sort. It's been a while since a book kept me up late at night reading because I could so vividly see the world these characters were in. Since I could see these people grow and change and fight. It was so nice to feel excited to read a book like this. 

So. Before I get overrun with my gushing love for this book, let's get a brief plot review. Scout and Jem, brother and sister live in the small sleep Southern town called Maycomb. The book begins with older Scout, the narrator of the book, reminiscing about the time Jem had his arm badly broken at the elbow when he was 13. The two can't agree on what started the trouble leading to his accident but Jem assures her that it started the summer Dill came to town and the obsession with Boo Radley began. 

Part one of this book concentrates on the childhood of Jem and Scout when they were 10 and 6, respectively. Dill came to them that summer and they spent their time playing make believe about the mysterious Boo Radley who always remained in his house. Atticus, their father, and also one of the most attractive men in literature, works as a lawyer, Scout starts school, someone begins leaving the children gifts inside of an old tree, and the case of Atticus's lifetime lands at his feet. Atticus is to defend Tom Robinson, a black man accused of raping a girl in the town. 

Part two consists of the incredibly unjust trial of Tom Robinson, a trial that tries the conscience of the entire town. He is clearly innocent, but he is also black, a far worse crime than rape. As the verdict is decided, Bob Ewell, the victim's father swears to get Atticus if it's the last thing he does. The climax of the story comes on Halloween when Jem and Scout are attacked, resulting in Jem's broken arm. If not for the gallant rescue by a mysterious friend, the children would have been killed for nothing more than living. But it's a sin to kill a mockingbird. 

That was the briefest of summaries but guys, sentences are hard with this book. I have too much to say. This book captivated and enchanted me and I loved these characters. As I'm short on time and words, I'll just hit a few points that really stuck with me. 

First. The mockingbirds. This book is full of mockingbirds. 

"Mockingbirds don't do one thing but make music for us to enjoy. they don't eat up people's gardens, don't nest in corncribs, they don't do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That's why it's a sin to kill a mockingbird."

Tom Robinson, Boo Radley, Scout and Jem. They are all little mockingbirds. I adored the way each character was related to a mockingbird and how sweet they all were. They were all childlike in their way and it was gorgeous. Near the end of the book when Scout related Boo to a mockingbird after the broken arm incident. I can't with this book. Crying for days.

Second. I loved how the first half of this book consisted of little lessons that ultimately became so important during the Robinson trial. A lot of these lessons related to judging people before knowing them and trying to see things from the perspective of others. 

I love the section of the story concerning Mrs. Dubose and her morphine addiction. Jem destroys her flowers and is then forced to read to her each day. Without noticing it, each day he stays longer and longer as Mrs. Dubose slips in and out of consciousness. After she later dies we learn that she was battling a morphine addiction. Each day Jem read to her a bit longer and each day she went longer without her morphine so by the time she died, she was free of her addiction. 

"I wanted you to see something about her- I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do. Mrs. Dubose won, all 98 pounds of her. According to her views, she died beholden to nothing and nobody. She was the braves person I ever knew." - Atticus Finch

The second half too was full of little lessons. That's why this book has remained so relevant and so loved. These lessons and morals are presented so easily with no patronizing and they are presented to children. As opposed to getting preached at, we are seeing these grand ideas through the eyes of a child who has yet to be colored by society's views and opinions. They still see things with that honesty that is so beautiful about childhood. 

One of of the scenes that I had forgotten about but that is now one I vividly remember is the scene after the Robinson trial where Scout finds her third grade class talking about the beginnings of World War II and Hitler gathering up the Jews into concentration camps. Scout asks why the people of Maycomb are so upset about the innocent Jews being mistreated in Europe but see no fault in mistreating the blacks in their own neighborhood. This hypocrisy was so startling and I was mad I hadn't thought of it while I was reading. It infuriated me like it did Scout and made me so angry with the town. This book is so pure and full of such a message of love. 

Also this conversation between Jem and Scout:

"Naw, Jem, I think there's just one kind of folks. Folks."

"That's what I thought, too," he said at last, "when I was your age. If there's just one kind of folds, why can't they get along with each other? If they're all alike, why do they go out of their way to despise each other? Scout, I think I'm beginning to understand something. I think I'm beginning to understand why Boo Radley's stayed shut up in the house all this time... it's because he wants to stay inside."

Guys, this writing. It's intuitive and compassionate and there are so many little allusions and symbols. It's a book lover's dream. It's a writer's dream. It's a dream. To end this already long (but never long enough) post, here are just a few favorite quotes. Also, just read this book. Please. It's important.

"Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing." -Scout

"You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view. Until you climb in his skin and walk around in it." - Atticus

"Well, Indian-heads- well, they come from the Indians. They're real strong magic, they make you have good luck. Not like fried chicken when you're not lookin' for it, but things like long life 'n' good health, 'n' passin' six weeks tests..." -Jem

"His lips parted into a timid smile, and our neighbor's image blurred with my sudden tears.

'Hey, Boo,' I said."- Scout. (ALSO, this is the cutest thing and most stunning passage in a book of all time. Cried like a child. Such a sweet little soft moment.)

"I willed myself to stay awake, but the rain was so soft and the room was so warm and his voice was so deep and his knee was so snug that I slept.

...

'An' they chased him 'n' never could catch him 'cause they didn't know what he looked like, an' Atticus, when they finally saw him, why he hand't done any of those things... Atticus, he was real nice...'

His hands were under my chin, pulling up the cover, tucking it around me.

'Most people are, Scout, when you finally see them.'

He turned ot the light and went into Jem's room. He would be there all night, and he would be there when Jem waked up in the morning."

(Just saying... Atticus Finch could tuck me into bed ANY night. That man is so classy.)

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Logan

On Saturday Niki and I drove up to Logan to see a handsome friend of mine in Fiddler on the Roof at the Utah Festival Opera. All I can say is Logan is so gorgeous. It's one of the most picturesque places I have ever been. When you walk around the main street, it feels like you are transported back into the 1960s, walking around an All-American street. It's so adorable. And the drive up. Mmmm.

Someone buy me this so I can be on Mad Men

Niki and I love shoes. We have one pair that is the same.
We both wore them today. Best friends.

The inside of the theater was stunning. It was like being inside of an
old cathedral with exposed buttresses.

We really nailed that whole Lana Del Rey/ disillusioned American Dream angst thing we were going for with these two pictures. 

The show was amazing and the sights were better. Casual lunges (inside joke. Just... I can't explain it.) abounded and the night was topped off with screaming Bohemian Rhapsody at the top of our lungs on the drive home. Because really... you cannot sing that song unless you are incredibly serious about it the entire time. And if your best friend in the whole world is with you. 

Road trips are perfect things, everyone. Go grab your best friend and head to Anytown, USA. 

Inspirational Tag

As I was reading my daily blogs, I came across a post from a new blog that I found recently. This girl is the cutest and she is British. So mostly I am obsessed with her and I read quite a few of her older posts as well as the post she wrote a few days back called Inspirational Tag. When you check out that post, look at her other ones. Girl has amazing style and she can write! I love her blog.

Inspiration is so excellent but it can be so hard to come by. Lately I have been feeling crazy inspired and I want to spread the wealth because I know what it feels like to be hunting for inspiration. It feels awful to feel like you have nothing to say and nothing to inspire you.

I tag all of you lovely readers to participate in this tag and share your tips for inspiration! Then when any of us feel uninspired we can look back at these posts, started by The Emerald Dove, we can get that flood of inspiration.

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So here are the questions to answer for this tag as well as my answers. :)

Questions: 
What is your favorite quotation?
What would you say to someone who feels inadequate?
What do you wish someone had told you before?
What is your advice for anyone who is being bullied?
What is your mantra in life?
What gets you down or do you find difficult and what would you say to anyone in a similar position?
Which historical figure do you identify most with?

(I love these questions by the way. Talk about getting inspiration flowing.)

Answers: 
What is your favorite quotation? I have a lot but one of my absolute favorites is from F. Scott Fitzgerald. He says, "That is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that your longings are universal longings, that you're not lonely and isolated from anyone. You belong." I love this quote so much and always find a lot of inspiration in the books I read.

What would you say to someone who feels inadequate? I would tell them that we have all felt this way before. Every time you feel inadequate will be matched by at least 20 more moments when you feel perfectly adequate or even extraordinary. Every hard moment will one day be a blip on the radar of your wonderful life.

What do you wish someone had told you before? I wish someone would have told me that ti's ok to feel stuck and feel depressed. It's ok to feel down for a long time because you have been hurt. Take all the time you need to bounce back but understand that you need to feel the pain you have felt in order to move on.

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What is your advice for anyone who is being bullied? You are better than the person who is hurting you. I know that we are told to look at life through their eyes and try to understand that if a person is bullying us, they must be hurting too. But guess what? Just because they are hurting does NOT mean they have the right to hurt you. Nobody has that right. Ever. You are stronger than them because you chose not to bully. Choice and accountability, friends. Tell someone you trust what is happening and make something happen to end it. Be proactive.

What is your mantra in life? Another Fitzgerald quote clearly. "Vitality shows in not only the ability to persist but in the ability to start over." 

What gets you down or do you find difficult and what would you say to anyone in a similar position? What gets me down is when I feel like whatever I am being made to do is pointless. Or if I hate what I'm doing but know it will benefit me in the long run. I hate not being constantly able to live my dreams and my passions. If I had my choice all I would do all day is read and write. Sadly, life requires money and work so I have to put my passions on hold for a hot second. Sometimes it gets hard to focus on short term goals because you are blinded by your long term future and wants. Persist, guys. Don't sabotage yourself out of doing your best because you just want to get to the good part of life. Work hard in all you do and you will get there faster. Keep going.

Which historical figure do you identify most with? Anne Boleyn. Always and forever. Homegirl knew what she wanted and she worked her corseted butt off to get there. She was so smart and so clever and was ahead of her time. I identify a lot with her determination and her zeal for the things she loved. She makes me feel sexy and powerful and I always strive to be more courageous and determined as she was. Also... she is hot as hell. Captured a King's eye and didn't do the nasty with him for seven years. She's the best ever. 

via Fanpop.
That smirk. Get her out of here. 

I loved this tag! I hope to see some more responses to it! Thanks again to The Emerald Dove for starting the tag! Go love on her blog and make your own response.

TAG! You're it! 

Spreading Venom Vs. Ellen Degeneres: A Treatise on Stress

It's been the strangest week, hasn't it? Anyone else feel that way? And the storm clouds in the sky over Utah have matched the metaphysical storm clouds that have settled in over the mountaintops in my brain. This week I've just felt... bleak? Melancholy? Like I'm running on empty?

Hormonal is probably the best word. 

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My mind has been a mess this week. Little things set me off, stress is piling up, and I feel like I'm crumbling under it all. I feel alone and isolated and misunderstood. I hate weeks like this because when I feel this crappy I always end up feeling more crappy BECAUSE of how unjustifiably miserable I am. I am a healthy, young, successful, generally happy personage living in American in 2013. I am fine. But why do I feel like such a depressive teenager? Super huge thanks hormones and stress. Super. Huge. Thanks.

Yesterday was sort of the cherry on top of my week of hormone hemorrhage. My schedule for yesterday was this: 

• Wake up at 6 AM (also known as the ass crack of dawn) to help with a charity yard sale for my school from 7-11:30. 
• Leave said yard sale early to go to work for 800 years from 12-7:30.
• Breathe at some point during the long day.

I knew that yesterday was going to be stressful. It was one of those days that because of how long you know it will be and how stressed you've been all week about it, your entire week is destroyed by it in anticipation. That was yesterday. But then it took a turn for the worst. 

I got sick. So sick. I felt like death sick. I drove around putting up yard sale signs for an hour, went back to the sale to help set up and within an hour, my stomach was twisting and clenching and punching itself. I tried to stay helpful and I put up a fight about staying to help but they sent me home.

I crawled in to bed hoping to feel better before I had to leave for work, but to no avail. I called out sick and slept the unrestful sleep of the ill all morning. When I woke up my stomach still felt anxious and my brain felt even worse. 

There's this thing called muscle memory. Once your body has done something for a long enough time period, it can be done without conscious effort. Like dancing. You learn the basic positions of ballet and after enough time they are engrained within your muscles. 

I believe that there is also emotional muscle memory. That something can happen to you that your mind remembers so vividly, that are so tattooed onto your heart that on the anniversary of that thing, your heart can hurt just like it did the year before. Yesterday was one of those days. Yesterday was an important day to me a year ago. A year ago I was so so so sad and so miserable. I was in constant pain and going through a huge trauma. But yesterday last year was sort of a beacon in the stormy sea, a day that gave last year hope. 

I think my body remembered that and freaked itself out. My emotions threw up all over my brain and made my body throw up. It got overwhelmed by the stresses of this year AND the stresses of last year. 

I have felt venom pooling in my veins all week long, almost like my body was anticipating this day. A guy I work with came up to me randomly on Tuesday night and attacked my romantic life. He told me I'd be alone for a while and that I'd be hurt really badly in another relationship before I find happiness. Part 1: You aren't allowed to say stuff like that to me unless you are my best friend. Part 2: NEVER say this to a girl who is already so scared to date and love again. It doesn't help. 

That comment, coupled with the hormones, coupled with the emotional memory recall has led to quite the build up of bioburden and venom trapped in my little body. I've been trying not to let it spread into my every day life and put me in to an emotional coma. For a second there I was losing that battle. 

Stress and overrunning emotions leaves you with two options: you can hold up a white flag of surrender and let them overtake you. OR you can find a way to defeat the stress. Wanna know the best weapon? 

Ellen Degeneres.

When I was feeling myself getting even more lost in my own head, filling with venom, I sat staring at my computer screen, pulled up to YouTube. A video recommended to me was an Ellen clip from her talk show. I watched the clip and found myself inexplicably smiling. Without knowing it, two hours had passed and my belly ached from laughing so hard and my cheeks were sore from smiling so hard.  

This is a good place to start your journey. 

She is so funny and so positive. I have the tendency to let stress spread all throughout my body and demolish me. I'm a hopeful person but if I have a painful memory that is persisting in my head, it doesn't matter how hard I try, I can't seem to remain optimistic. But Ellen brings back some optimism to my life. She makes me laugh. It like her videos are sucking out rattlesnake venom and I can feel the stress slowly leaving my body. It's pretty amazing. (I also enjoy how there is always one comment on her youtube videos that say the same thing about falling into the Ellen Video Vortex for hours without knowing what happened.) 

The next time you feel yourself being bitten by the stress bug, or a ghost from your past sneaks back onto your Facebook feed, take a break to laugh. Take the Degeneres drug and degenerate that stress. (NAILED THAT TAGLINE) 

Stay lovely. <3

Impulse

A few weeks ago I read an amazing book by Ellen Hopkins, a long time favorite author, called Impulse. You can read the review I wrote for that book here. (Also... take a peek at the comment section. Yeah. THE AUTHOR COMMENTED WHAT IS MY LIFE!?)

This book is about three teenagers who end up in a medical rehabilitation center after each trying to end their lives. All three characters struck me deep in my heart. They were so hurt and they all felt so alone. I loved each of them but today I was reminded of Vanessa.

In the book Vanessa tries to slit her wrists. Luckily her brother finds her and she is rushed to the hospital just in time. She's been a cutter for some time and it is hard for her to shake that impulse to feel the blade ease her skin apart even in the rehab center. She even goes to such extremes as to hide a paper clip in her room to prick herself with if she needs. It made me so sad that she felt so alone and that there was no other option than to let her troubles bleed through her skin.

One of my favorite parts of working in the cafe at Barnes and Noble is the opportunity to develop relationships with some of the regular customers. They are so nice and they remember me from when I was 16 and working there. They get the same drinks every week, they are so sweet and polite, and they also tip pretty well usually.

There has been one couple that has been every Sunday for the past few months. The boy is a huge teddy bear with a kind scruffy face and big open arms and an even bigger smile. His girlfriend is gorgeous. She looks like a gothic snow white. Her face is a cameo pin framed by her onyx hair and apple red lips. Her skin is perfect like porcelain and her style is flawless. She always rocks a stunning black sun dress, a different dress each week - each one better than the last. She wears shoes Lady Gaga would be jealous of- high black boots with studded heels and killer height. She has the deathly hallows tattoo on her arm and wears Bellatrix Lestrange's animal skull pendant around her neck. She's amazing. I wish she was my friend. She also has amazing taste in books. She's always reading a superb novel each Sunday, different each week as well.

Image via Flickr

They are an odd pair, the two of them. But you can see how much love constantly passes between them. He's her protector and she keeps his life vibrant and forever changing. I love them. Guys. I want to date this couple. They seem so happy every time they come in. They chat with us and always leave a clean table.

Then a few weeks ago, Snow White wasn't wearing her jacket. The white skin across her arms was covered in red exclamation points and angry red raised mountains. They cascaded across her forearms and up to the top of her cap sleeves. I was amazed she would even let them show since there were so many. I was shocked someone as kind has her was hiding a secret like this. Many of them had faded a bit but the cuts were deep; these scars would last her a lifetime.

I hid that I was looking at her arms and made them their drinks and took them out to the two of them as they sat holding hands and reading. She looked up at me and smiled a closed mouth, but no less warm and open smile. "Thank you so much," she whispered. I smiled back and left them to their Sunday date at the bookstore.

It broke my heart that a girl that sweet and lovely was ever in a place in her life that she felt so alone and so in pain. It's clear from the scars that she's lived with pain for quite some time and is just now getting better. I am so sad that she ever felt the need to call on a blade to be her only sense of relief and comfort. She's such a beautiful woman, just like Vanessa in the book. No one deserves to feel that amount of pain alone. No one deserves to feel alone period. 

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Even through how sad I felt for her past, I smiled for her future. The fact that she isn't hiding her arms means she is a fighter. She is healing. She knows she is loved and she loves deeply. You can see it in her eyes. She has seen Hell and she has returned from that visit a stronger person. She's a warrior and a saint. It made me love her big scruffy boyfriend even more. He cares so much for her. I can't help but imagine him holding her when the nights get long and hard and the metal starts humming in her heart again. He will cradle her and absorb her tears and she will do the same for him. Love is so beautiful and so cathardic. I'm so glad they have each other.

Image via Tumblr

It still breaks my heart to know that not all of the people who struggle like Snow White are able to heal the way she has. I hate that there are still people who feel like they have to face this life alone with nothing but a razor at their side. I am so sorry if anyone reading this feels this way. There are people in your life who love you and even when life seems unbearably hard, the sun will rise in the morning. The long nights will pass, even if it takes years. The bully's will leave and you will be left standing strong.

Please reach out if you ever feel alone. There are people who will listen, I promise you. Never feel so alone that you feel like you can't come back from it. Fight that impulse to punish yourself and instead use your arms to embrace each other, not to harm yourself.

Stay lovely, everyone. You are loved. You are all loved. 

Image via Tumblr