The Current Directions Of My Brain.


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Warning: the next few paragraphs will have nothing to do with each other. They are just various ways in which my brain thinking right now.

The past few days, I’ve found myself complaining a lot. It’s not like I haven’t had reasons to complain, trust me I truly have. If you knew my reasons you might even give me a license to complain. Still there is something that follows a long list of complaints, this thought that says ‘Is this negativity helping anything?’ That could just be some major influences in my life talking though, honestly when I really think about it I know I can’t move on unless I vent. In the end I won’t apologize for it, because I won’t just complain about things to nobody only those who I trust most, those who to some degree I lean on.

I found myself standing on my dock this early evening, as the storm clouds began rolling in and the winds began to blow. I love rain. I don’t think I’ve ever told someone the biggest reason why I love rain it’s one of those truths I wouldn’t trust with just anyone.

Hello Again ties for first place on my favorite Neil Diamond songs, along with I am..I said. This one may seem random but it was just playing.

I often like to tell people the negative things about myself, so they have an idea of what they are walking into. Basically if I don’t tell you about one of my negative qualities it’s either A: something I’m still unaware of. B: I don’t actually trust you that much. or C: It’s really bad.

Today I realized I have a crazy amount of music knowledge in my head, and I feel like I have no idea what to do with that talent. Thoughts?

Bad quality: I have a tendency to over-talk when I’m speaking to someone I really enjoy. Basically it’s me trying to keep them entertained so they don’t walk away, but then I wonder afterward if I should have let them talk more.

I find it infinitely hilarious when I’ve known someone for years and I figure out they don’t know how to spell my name correctly.

I’ve decided life must be real tough for the Q, the X and the Z. I think if they were humans they would be 16 year girls with hair in their face and they would flop their head around to get the hair out of their face and dramatically say “I’m so misunderstood.” to which the A’s and the E’s would just say “That’s just like me!!” and the Q,X AND Z would just roll their eyes.

This is my brain at 11:37 at night.

Still A Rough Draft

On Tuesday I turn 20.

It seems like a pretty cool age, it means I don’t have to cringe after I say my age anymore. For some reason being a teenager has always felt embarrassing, but perhaps that insecurity proves my own immaturity.

As a child you dream of all the things you could be as an adult. You wonder why more people don’t go on to be spies, and then wonder if maybe they do and the jobs they have are just cover-ups. You imagine the person you could be…

And then you grow up and it’s nothing like you thought it was going to be like for the best and worst reasons. The opinions you so strongly felt at 12 or 15 or even 18 aren’t even a thought in your mind anymore, you’re different, you’ve changed and some people will get angry.

Why don’t you do this anymore? Because I grew up. Why don’t you wear this anymore? Because I grew up. Why don’t you have this opinion anymore? Because I grew up and realized the little girl who thought she could never be wrong was often nothing but wrong.

I wish this meant now I knew all I needed to know to be who I need to be, but I think I’m still a rough draft.  *roll credits*

I’ve realized a lot in the past year. I’ve realized loving people is more important than being smarter than people. I’ve realized I have a lot of empathy and there is nothing wrong with sharing it. I realized it’s OK to wanna look pretty, just as long as it doesn’t become your main focus. I realized I was right and wrong about being best friends with a guy.

Part of me feels like it’s just another year, but the others part of me is excited because I know new lessons will be learned, new discoveries will be made and maybe I’ll get closer to final draft. *roll real credits*

Winter came against my will..


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That winter…

I wonder if I’ll look back at it and shudder. It wasn’t the weather that made it so cold for me, though it played a role.

My winter was notebooks with pens, with ear buds full of Ben Howard and Damien Rice. My winter was coffee shops, sitting in a corner with a book of poetry or writing a book of poetry. My winter was deeply rooted heartache on cold nights, in cars with two passengers; myself and a lingering sadness. 

My winter was breathing incorrectly in the darkness of my room feeling as though I was missing a vital nutrient that didn’t actually exist. My winter was late night tears and puffy morning eyes. My winter was feeling like puzzle piece 301 in a 300 piece puzzle. 

My winter was this constant question “are you depressed?”. Rarely asked by me because I knew better, but how do answer that question? Saying yes leads to people saying things like “well you just need to snap out of it.” or “you’re just not doing enough stuff.” Thanks..

The answer to my problems was obvious, like a full moon. But like a full moon it was out of my reach. 

This winter I was lonely and my heart ached. I was lonely but not everyone’s company would do. 

It’s spring now…

meaning the sun will shine, and new things will blossom, and perhaps smiles will begin feeling less forced.

Maybe I’ll discover what happy poetry is, maybe I’ll light up a room again..


My Grandmother

Last spring my Grandmother came to live with my parents and I. She was 90 and had a very serious case of shingles.

Before this I didn’t really know my grandmother, I saw her every few years for short instances but nothing more. When my mother told me she was bringing her home I knew that it truly was for the best, but it was also so strange because my grandmother had really always been a stranger to me and now she was going to be more than that.

She was rather sick when she got here but she still had her mind and she was very funny. She loved talking about her life, especially her life with my grandfather who died many years ago. Sometimes they were the same stories but it was delightful.

She had a wonderful summer. She was surrounded by family that loved her, she had our dog by her side who she adored and I believe the dog felt the same. She gained a bit of weight living with us because she was spoiled with ice cream, chocolate and really anything she wanted. We figured she was 90 she deserved to eat and eat plenty.

Though she was my mothers mother my father came to really love her like his own. He did most the spoiling :).

She was happy and at times I think we thought she was getting better. In the beginning she had bad days but I don’t think they were many.

Fall came and with it she slowly started declining. She had hard nights, she had hard days. My mother who did the bulk of the care-taking was there through it all even when exhaustion accompanied her she put her mothers needs first.

It was terrifying to watch. You have this person who you’ve come to love and slowly her body and mind start losing the will to live and you really begin to see it on their face. You realize this when she begins to cry when a loved one from afar leaves, because she knows she’ll never see this person again. You realize it when she stops wanting food. You realize it when she stops wanting ice cream.

In December she got a sick. I remember coming home from work and my mother telling me my grandmother had a cold. For some reason I knew it would be her undoing.

Over the course of two weeks she slowly got worse, but it wasn’t till the very last few days that she got really bad.

Friday she able to walk short distances with the help of her walker, Sunday she was confined to her bed and not very aware mostly because of the drugs that eased her pain.

Sunday night no one really slept. Her cries were too horrifying, she didn’t understand what was going on and she just wanted to get up. She was unable to understand that she couldn’t get up.

She was surrounded by family, we were tired but we didn’t want to leave her alone. Someone was almost constantly holding her hand if not both of her hands.

Monday she was unconscious but still alive and we knew it was just a matter of time.

Waking up Tuesday, I was surprised she was still alive, still unconscious but still she was holding on. To what I don’t know, my grandmother was stubborn.

Tuesday night was a room filled with family who loved this woman. We all took turns holding her hand, sitting next to her, talking with her though we knew we would get no response. I read her poetry.

Then it happened. She slowly faded in and out. Her pulse disappearing, then becoming erratic.

I sat next to her holding her hand, two fingers on her wrist feeling her pulse.

There is something beautiful and yet heartbreaking about holding your grandmothers hand and feeling her pulse as it slowly disappears.

Then she was gone.

Everyone left the room but for some reason I couldn’t. Placing my head on my grandmothers shoulder, I wept.

We can say she was old and that she had a full life and though that is true it is never easy to say goodbye. It never feels like it’s time to go, you always want more time, one more conversation. Another memory, another smile.

I miss my grandmother. I miss lighting up her face when I came home from work. I miss her getting annoyed at the baseball players on T.V. I miss the way she would pretend she hadn’t had a bowl of ice cream yet even when we all knew she had.

I’m not looking for pity. We all lose people in our lives one way or another.

I’m writing this because it mattered, she mattered.

I’ll always love you Grammy. . .


A Letter To Me From My Eight Year-Old Self


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Dear Annie, are you still called Annie? Was the teen years everything you expected? How about 13? I’m really looking forward to 13.

Did we become tough and start wearing a leather jacket? I have day dreams about that. Am I a spy now? Are you allowed to tell me? Please tell me I got cool spy gear!

Did we meet Prince Charming yet? Does love feel the way we imagined? Does it remind you of Cinderella or The Sound of Music? Are the movies just making this stuff up?

Did we ever finish that book? Do we still sing everyone crazy?

Did you like Italy? Did we ride a cool bike and eat that ice cream with the funny name? You did go when you were 16 right?

Do we still hate mayonnaise or did that change with time? (That’s what mom says will happen)

Are you still scared of the jungle gym? Are we even allowed on the jungle gym anymore?

Is Frank Sinatra still the love of our life?

Does Math get easier?

I have a lot of questions I know..but these are important questions. And you don’t mind right? If anything you have to be able to put up with yourself, right?

I have plenty more questions but I have to go practice violin…why didn’t I just stick with piano? Do I still play either, did I go to one of those fancy schools?


Green Eyes


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Her eyes were the color of the leaves in the spring, at least that’s what everyone told her.

They insisted her eyes were green, she didn’t see it.

She looked in the mirror, how could everyone see it but her?

She wore different clothing to bring out less of the green, she stuck to the right lighting. Still everyone convinced her that her eyes were green.

Now and then a person would question it, which gave her hope that she wasn’t crazy, but the majority still shouted “Green, green!”

The years passed by, and she began to change. Suddenly more people began to realize: her eyes were blue.

“How did we not notice all this time?” They would say. To which she would just shrug and say “I don’t know.”

She was happy, people finally saw her eyes for what they were.

She looked in the mirror happy with how she was finally seen, only to realize her eyes were the colors of leaves in the spring…

The Secret To Happiness


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We’ve been looking for this secret for a long time. People throughout the years have asked the question, many have even died without knowing the answer?

“What is the secret to happiness?”

First let me make a short list of all things that actually won’t make you happy (at least not for long).

1. Popularity

2. Money

3. Relationships

4. Things

5. Any sort of drug.

If you believe any of these will make you happy please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments. We can then proceed to hash it out, because that’s what the internet is good for. Arguing with someone over a screen.

So now that we have that covered let me tell you the plain and simple truth.

Happiness is not easy. It’s not something you can get a dose of once and be filled for the rest of your life.

Happiness is two things: Work and Attitude. I in no way mean 9-5 work. I mean it takes work, everyday. Attitude is also very important. This could mean changing your attitude when you’re having a gloomy day. It could mean going with the flow of the things more. (Never thought I’d be telling people to go with the flow.) What I mean by that is stop letting that little decision that so-and-so made get to you. If everyone wants to go to the new Mexican restaurant but you hate Mexican food, toughen up and enjoy your friends instead of the food. Also question your sanity because Mexican food is the bomb.

I believe happiness is an art, and like all art you have to practice it to get good at it. You have to give it some effort. Nobody just picks up a piece of paper and draws a masterpiece, do they?

I heard someone say recently that in marriage you will not drift together. If you put two bottles in the water they won’t drift together they will drift apart. The point was that marriage took effort and you can’t just expect to stay together with out putting some work in. It’s not easy. I think happiness is very similar. It doesn’t just stay with you, you must work at it.

Imagine if everyone applied “Work and a good attitude” to the things they did. Maybe things might actually last.




A Room Filled With Memories


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You sit in a room filled to the brim with memories. Some of the memories didn’t happen in the room but they now live in the room, sitting on a shelf or hanging on a hook.

To your right: there are shelves that are slowly yet happily becoming overrun with books. What memories those books hold. How many times did you laugh, cry, get so angry at the book that you had to put it down for a minute? How many times have you rearranged those shelves looking for the best way to fit everything? “The classics must go here!” “Book series down here!” “This book really should go there, but it’s much too tall!” you’d say. You can’t tell if you’re a library or if you just take too many books off the shelf at once.. The books have begun falling, you’ll have to ask for your books back… You then realize that the books are right next to your bed. The books you read late into the night until your vision began to blur.

What wonderful memories…

Then there is that door, which holds all those bags and scarves that you thought would be your favorite forever. When really only one still holds a place in your heart, even though it’s starting to rip. That bag that you saw one day, and you just had to go back for it. It’s nothing special, it didn’t cost an arm and a leg but it can carry about four books and then some. Your shoulders have become sore lugging it around but you refuse to carry less…

Your closet: filled with clothes that you wore on your happiest days, your saddest days, and days that should never have existed. You could probably go through each article of clothing and recount a memory, and then you would smile and think of the memories that you haven’t yet made in them..

This room is wood, plants, lightbulbs, and information. Though that may not make sense unless you’ve seen it.

This room is filled with memories, good and bad. It’s holds sentiments. It holds journals filled with thoughts of the past, with pages still waiting to be filled.

This room is my memories…

The Introvert and Extravert Difference.


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Ever have someone question you about being depressed or antisocial, when really you’re just happier being alone or in a very small crowd (like one or two)? You might be an introvert!

Find it difficult to spend too much time by yourself and get your energy from a crowd? You might be an extravert!

Remember I said “might”. A lot more information has to go into it.

I think it’s important to understand how you feel about this. Why you ask? Well, I’ve noticed that when you’re in your preferred environment you’re more likely to be happy and content. Granted we don’t always get a choice on how we live, but it can help shape our future in a way that will better fit us.

As an introverted extravert, I prefer to spend a good amount of my time with people but I also need times to just breathe and refresh (sometimes a couple hours, sometimes a couple of days).

I used to believe I was an introvert, that was until I realized I was just a extravert who coped as a introvert. It wasn’t a bad experience to go through. I think everyone: introvert and extravert, should learn how to be alone, and how to be with people.

There is no need to make your introvert friends feel bad because they enjoy small groups and a lot of alone time, or make extraverts feel shallow cause they like more time with people.

But remember introverts: we may not be trying to change you when we ask you to hang out, we could just think you’re an awesome person!

(This is just a small post about introverts and extraverts, but at some point I might do a post just on introversion or just on extraversion )