She Had The Most Amazing...Smile.

 Hello my shining stars, 

Have you ever been so passionate, or more than likely obsessed about something that you legit are contemplating the notion of drowning yourself in it on a daily basis? Don't be frightened quite yet...it was never anything suicidal. In ninth grade, I remember being obsessed with the band Boys Like Girls. Oh my gosh, do you remember them? I bought the t-shirts, yet never went to the concert...yeah, I was THAT girl. Every day I would find a way to push them into every conversation I had. The cheerleaders didn't like it so much.  But every single solitary day, I woke up, ate my Cinnamon Toast Crush, then listened to "The Great Escape" and "Thunder". Then one day I woke up and was over the whole shenanigan and on to the next one: Taylor Swift. I went through the exact same routine. Obsessed over it. Bought it. Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Then I sorta forgot about her a little while.

This is my other half, Haley Poole.
We used to get pretty wild on Wednesdays.
I do need every one to take a moment and look at my thighs! BOOM!
THEY. WILL. BE. BACK

As high school continued to roll on by, so did my obsessions. Lets list them, shall we? Heath Ledger, then he had to go off and die (I just want every one to know that I cried for three weeks straight. We were supposed to get married. We talked about it and everything...in my dreams.) Then I went through a punk stage. "Lil Mama and AVRIL LAVIGNE". I loooved that girl. I even secretly asked my hair dresser to put a pink streak in my hair back in the ninth grade. Let me just tell you, my father shut that down real quick.

Just hanging out with some cast members from Juno and Flavor of Love.
No big deal :)
Oh, and by the way, I am not high. I just got back from the eye doctors office.
Take a moment to imagine the looks on their faces when I walked through their front door that morning.

But when I wasn't obsessed with the boy I was dating at the time, I knew something was strange. So I became obsessed with other things. Chick flicks, Twilight (not the books, the movies...I still have a poster of Jacob on my wall. I must admit, it scares me at night when I have to pee), going to the beach, then going to the movies, music, and dreaming about SLEEPING. I HAVE A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT. Legit, mothers, daughters or brothers who were twice-removed from the family tree: I have spent the last five years of my life getting very little sleep. Sometimes because I am scared, others because I just can't, but for most of high school, it was because I wasn't allowed. Listen to me as I say this and take me and understand the words that are coming out of my index fingers: sleep is important. Don't let anyone ever take away your 1) Shine and 2) Sleep. I wish wish wish I could rewind and get 8 hours a night instead of three when I was in high school. I am super serious right now. Any time is nap time (except for when you are driving; I tried that and it wasn't so good) so catch up before it's too late and you look like me: baggy eyes at the age of twenty. Trust me, no cream can fix this, aha. I'VE TRIED THEM ALL. Anyways, back to not lecturing you. But there was one more obsession I had...and I could almost call it love.

As a little 11th grade nugget, I can honestly say that whole year was a horrific blur. Not all of it, but a good plenty of it. I had amazing friends...ones that I truly didn't deserve and I still don't! They are so great, and like I always say, they are gonna change the world some day. But for a while, I single-handedly allowed someone to push them out of my life. What did One Tree Hill teach us all to do when someone you love walks out of your life? Exactly: you fight.for.them. Actually, lets take a moment to discuss this cute little thought, shall we?

Men and Women of all ages. We are all going to fight with the ones we love...maybe every single day and maybe once in a lifetime. Either way, we all screw up. And if you're like me...you screw up multiple times an hour. What can I say, I am like a dadgum box of screws (HAHA, that's SO FUNNY!). But there is someone out there for all of us. Someone who is going to take those screws and make something beautiful out of them all...something beautiful out of us. So, I don't care if you are wrong, I don't care if she accidentally broke your FAVORITE football game or if he hit a pothole while you were putting eyeliner on in the car. GO. AFTER. THEM. Every single day is a fight in a relationship. I am not saying that I am in a perfect one, but I am in one. I fight every single day. He may not know that, but if he is reading this, he will soon find out. HEHE, surprise? :) I can't even go to SLEEP if I feel like something is wrong. I will turn on my light and text him until my melatonin kicks in and my fingers forget how to type. I am ALWAYS the person who apologizes first...and I have been all my life. I can't breathe unless I do...and I need my air. I know they say being in love means never having to say you're sorry, but I do it anyway because most of the time, I am. I know I am a struggle to be with, ahaha...I'M LIKE A FREAKING ROLLERCOASTER THAT GOES UPSIDE DOWN NUMEROUS TIMES BEFORE YOUR STOMACH GETS IT'S CRAP TOGETHER. And that feeling is worth apologizing for.

Adam has to deal with this everyday. Every. Single. Day.
Wow, well it's safe to say he deserves an "I survived" shirt every evening.
HAHA. I am so funny. Oh boy.

BUT WAIT WAIT WAIT! Don't let this boy fool you! He is a piece of work, too! You know that movie "The Blindeside"? Adam is Sandra Bullock! No, he isn't a woman...and doesn't design the inside of homes. This boy is like an onion. Every single day, you will find me gently pulling back layers trying to uncover and understand him better. LET ME JUST SAY, some of these layers are incredibly difficult to get a hold of...but I never give up. Wanna know why? Like that little Asian girl off the commercial says, a princess is always faithful and never gives up. I think she was calling me out.

But my obsession has nothing to do with this. Lets go back to 11th grade Haley. I was putting on my makeup one morning, realizing the dark circles were taking their form on my face rather early, when suddenly I was singing along to this song I had heard before...but never coming from my Sirius XM television station. I whip my chair around to find the title "Into Your Arms" by "The Maine." Like most teenagers, I began screaming at the top of my lungs and jumping around on top of everything important. My mother, who just got home from working nights, came running into my room asking what on Earth was wrong. All I could do was point at the blue screen. Frustrated, she says "Haley, you are going to have to say something human to me. I don't understand pointing unless you are doing some kind of disco thing. I mean, that's exciting and all...but you kinda missed those times." I stared at her and said, "mom! LOOK! It's the MAINE. This song. I downloaded it 6 months ago. BUT NOW IT'S FAMOUS. I KNEW OF IT BEFORE IT WAS FAMOUS! Maybe I made it famous?..." Before I could finish, she looks down at her gold watch and says, "You're going to be famous in the office if you don't leave right now, Haley. They have seen your face every single day this week and I don't think the line 'the train held me up' will work three days in a row." I grabbed my backpack and sped to school listening to the song over and over again. Listen, I had a long ride everyday. Well, with me driving it wasn't ever that long. Making it just in time for Mrs. Clark-Jones' class, I tossed my backpack in the corner of the class and ripped a hundred sheets of paper to begin writing notes to all my friends about my exciting morning. Mrs. Clark-Jones suddenly came over and whispered, "Haley, you don't have a bomb in there or anything, do you?" I almost said yes so that she would throw my Chemistry book out of the window. Too easy though.



This song was the anthem of my nearly-wrecked life. I made all my friends listen to it while we were in my car. In college, all of my friends learned to love it and even left me random voicemails of them singing that song while we were all on break. I made a blog *DING DING DING* named after that song because it has always seemed to describe my life in every situation, which is what I wanted this blog to be about - every situation. Everywhere I go, everything I went through, it was the one thing that said, "you're gonna make it" without actually saying those words. I have listened to this song backwards and forwards, literally...the video is awesome if you play it backwards, because it actually goes forward. (Mind-blown yet?) I also know that if you leave the right headphone in and take the left out, everything gets really quiet and it's just you and John O' for a solid seconds. For the longest time, I truly thought John O'Callaghan was speaking to me, talking about my eyes being sunsets and my long...ish...legs. But here I am, eating my Cinnamon Toast Cruch and wearing my "She has the most amazing..." shirt and wondering what happens in that moment when your crazy obsession turns into something of your past.

My answer: Life. Life always happens. It wakes you up from "the most amaaazing" sleep. Paints black circles around your eyes while you are actually asleep. Tells you the boy you love doesn't love you back. Cuts your clothes in your closet and makes them waaay to small for you. Tells you that you can't follow your dreams. Says that you have to grow up. Takes the people who you once found to be extraordinary and turns them into something ordinary. Allows the boy to never text you back. Gives you rain when you need a little sunshine. Yet, it shows you a sunset when you beg God for something more in your life. Opens a door when people close three hundred in your face. Finds that last birthday that your mother gave you hidden beneath the socks in your drawer. Gives you a Bible verse that makes you feel less crazy about the craziness in your life. And most importantly, it sends you friends who are going through the exact things that you are just so that you aren't alone...even if it's for just 24 hours. This world is full of blessings, heartaches, and fifteen-minute loves. I don't know about you, but through it all, I have never felt more alive. That day I heard "Into Your Arms" on the television, I drove 80 miles an hour to school without caring that a cop could pretty much arrest my happy-loving tail and more than likely lock me away in a dungeon for the rest of my life. Yet, I was alive (luckily). We sometimes forget about how fortunate we are to be alive. We take it for granted, forgetting those who actually died trying to live their lives. Yet here we are, dreaming about the places we want to discover, but wasting our happiness at the job we hate...or taking our happy-loving time with our degree...or mostly just watching life pass before our eyes. My Uncle Jim once told me "don't blink or wish your life away, Haley...because as soon as it is gone, you can never get it back and life doesn't give you do-overs."

So now it is Christmas break, instead of traveling home and remembering how easy your world used to be, remember how great it is. Never forget the tire-tracks we made in your backyard every single time we drove to your house, or the time we laid out on your pier, or the time you taught me that I should "keep my boobs high, but never let them fly", but always remember the past will always be there and the future is waiting for you to change it...or to just simply embrace it.

With all the love in my Christmas-struck heart,
Haley



"There was a new girl in town.
She had it all figured out. (Had it all figured out)
And I'll state something rash.
She had the most amazing....smile.
I bet you didn't expect that.
But she made me change my ways. (She made me change my ways)
With eyes like sunsets baby.
And legs that went on for days.

Oh she's slippin' away.
I always freeze when I'm thinking of words to say.
All the things she does.
Make it seem like love.
If it's just a game. (Just a game)
Then I like the way that we play."
Into Your Arms - The Maine

I Light Up When The Doors Are Closed

Hello lovelies!

Let me just say, these past two weeks have been like...like...well, do you remember that one episode of Spongebob where he is looking for one piece of hay in the HUMUNGO needle stack? Just in case you don't have a life and have never watched Spongebob:

Me too, Spongebob. Meeeee tooo.

I literally feel like a million different things are stabbing my fragile, translucent, moderately glittery skin lately. I almost feel like a dog with one of those collars on that zap them if they venture out too far. Wholly guacamole. Actually, do you have a moment for me to give you a break down of my week? I promise you will feel hundreds better about your life!

Okay, so on dadgum Monday, I had TWO FINALS. I just want to make note that Monday was the 18th of November...which means I still have a MONTH left of school, yet I am taking two finals. Granted they were both in the same miserable class, but I was just really frazzled and completely exhausted. Oh wait, vroooooom errrrrt, lets rewind really quick. My book for this dadgum class didn't come in until 5 days before the test...and I literally had 478 pages to read and lessons to review. I haven't had more than three hours of sleep a night in the past two weeks. And to answer your question, yes I am seeing rainbows and skittles falling from the sky right about now. But, I made a 90 on the written test and a one-freaking-hundred on the skills test, plus Adam took me out for Chinese afterwards, so all went well on Monday. On Tuesday, yeah, nothing happened...fast forward to Wednesday. Wednesday started off well. My editor called me, we talked like long lost soul sisters for 10 minutes and 58 seconds, no big deal. Everything was just really going well. I even had my morning cup of Starbucks, which means people actually enjoyed talking to me. I WAS EVEN BEING NICE TO RUDE CUSTOMERS! Are you seeing where I am going with this? Things. Were. Great.

Then 3 o'clock in the afternoon rolled around, which meant it was time for Poetry class. First and foremost, I just want you all to know that I have been giving this class a lot of effort and seriousness. I am not a poet...no big deal...I do other amazing things like write blogs, or draw beautiful pictures on the shower walls with soap that apparently doesn't come off - why wasn't that in the warning label? I mean they tell you not to get it in your eyes; why not say, "hey, don't get creative either" - you know, the important things in life. I really couldn't concentrate that day because they were talking about Kanye West (please take a hot second and watch this bologna, especially you, Devin http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BuBd3bDdALM) and how amazing they thought he was. #TeamTaylor. OH YEAH, ahaha, the reason they were talking about Kanye is because we were having RAP SONG day. Everyone brought in their absolute favorite rap song: all were either by Tupac, Kanye, Lil Wayne and some white chick that talked so fast and New Jersey-ish that I couldn't even focus. Each of their songs were so depressing...or violent...then, it was my turn. MUAHAHA.

My teacher/graduate student turned to me and said, "Alright, Haley. What rap song did you bring for us to listen to? You can play it then tell us two things you might would like to steal from it."

"Perfect. Okay everyone. I am about to make your day a whole lot brighter. I put a lot of thought into this song...literally, I went through all 3,000 songs on my computer. Well, one night I was singing in the shower and my roommate heard me. As soon as I got out, she quickly ran in there and screamed 'Oh my gosh - you have to use that song for your rap day in poetry!!!' After 2.7 seconds, I realized she was absolutely right. So, ladies and gentlemen, here comes the best 1 minute and 26 seconds of your life."

http://vimeo.com/6648485

That's right, I once again supported my homegirl Taylor Swift. After the song ended, I cleared my throat after looking at the blank faces of each and every outspoken and skillfully poetic individual in my class. "First things first, I would love to take the same humor used in this song and use it in my writing. This day and age, I feel like young adults, such as ourselves, take our lives so seriously. I know this isn't an 'official' rap song like everyone elses, but that doesn't make her any less of a singer. It more or less makes her an experimenter, OOOH, or what I would like to call an 'imagineer'. She is taking all the things people say about her, such as her incredible height, the fact that she *DING DING DING* doesn't cuss, and the fact she was still living with her parents, although lets be real, most of us and our besties did the exact same thing, and she is simply laughing at herself about it. How many of us can say we laugh at the things people tease us about." For the .8 seconds I waited, no one raised their hands. "Exactly! Next, I really like her use of rhymes and the way she asks questions and answers them...still in rhyme."

At this moment people are still quietly flustered by my choice of song...and apparently song writer, too. This one lady finally pops up and OUT OF THE FREAKING BLUE says, "I just really don't like her." Someone please tell me what that has to do with this song from a poetic point of view. You have no idea either, right? Before I could tell her to put the shut to the up, my friend and the love of my life, Noah, who also has beautiful pink hair and comments kindly on each of my scarves, straightens up and says, "Taylor Swift is amazing. She never claimed to be an 'amazing singer' - she's just one of the few who still has a good time doing what she is doing and is actually being 100% honest in all of her music."

Yeah...BACK DOWN, BARBIE DOLL!

In other news, Gerard looks quite charming here.

But homegirl had more to say: "Maybe so, but she has an absolutely annoying voice and only talks about her boyfriends. That isn't music...that is just an article in Entertainment Magazine." OH SNAP, homegirl has jokes. Before I could breathe and get my words together, Noah came to my rescue...yet again. Ahh, Noah.

"Have you heard her sing live?" At this moment I raised my hand and said, "OOH OHH OHH - I HAVE!" Noah quickly looked at me and smiled before continuing, "Exactly, sheeeee has. Taylor Swift is absolutely uh-may-zing LIVE. So what if she sings about her boyfriends? They are all individually part of her life story, and apparently millions of people are able to relate to her music, because in 2011, SHE TOOK HOME EVERY AWARD SHE WAS NOMINATED FOR AT THE AMA's. Any further points you have are invalid."

*Noah drops the mic and leaves.*

Totally kidding, but I tell everyone he did!
It makes the story better.



I reached across the table and touched his newly painted fingernails and said, "You are beautiful." But even after that spectacular moment, the day didn't get any better. After my class, I asked my teacher/graduate lady-person if I could have my poem back. We have to create a portfolio as our final exam. No big deal, I just need to have all of my poems so I am able to finish the portfolio before things get real in the college world. As soon as everyone left the class, she talked with me for 15 minutes about all the flaws and errors in my little poem. Actually, you are going to need a little background information about this class before you understand why that infuriated me.

My poetry class consists of approximately 8 individuals, all of which who believe and love different things. The "F" word is used in most of their poems, and mouths, like they are simply talking about cheese. Speaking of their poems, if they aren't talking about sex, they are talking about suicide, or alcohol, or doing hardcore drugs on Wednesdays, or my personal not-favorite, when the guys give us full details about PRIVATE interactions they have with themselves. This class is why I have to go home and hide in my bed until all the horrific thoughts go away. I bet I know what you are thinking: "Well, Haley...what do you write about then?" Oh my gosh - I am so glad you asked!

I, Haley Danielle Moody, write about the stars, the clouds, or being a dadgum mermaid in the deep, blue sea. Every time I have to read my poems aloud for discussion, they all look at me like I am an innocent little child who has never had to experience a difficult moment or horrific event. So, being overly frustrated and ready to punch them all in their esophagus's, this last poem was about cancer. Maybe it's nothing perverted or sexual, but it's dark...and I was so ready to show them that I am not someone who lets the dark times hold her down.

There I was, standing in front of my teacher, listening to her tell me she doesn't "understand" my poem...how it made her confused or something. All I could think about was the fact that I sit in class all dadgum day listening to them read their poems that make absolutely no sense, yet I still find and tell them things that I freaking LIKE. For instance, that very same day, she read us a poem about a woman who CUT THE TIP OF HER FINGER OFF, but somehow, the poem ended talking about Indians, soldiers and the KKK. Yet I am the confusing nugget in the bunch - YEAH, OKAY HOMBRE!

Maybe I just don't understand some things like they do, but me? I write things that a kindergartener would understand BECAUSE I AM IN THE MINDSET OF ONE! I have considered writing children books, but that is a topic for another day. But that is why it infuriated me when she said she didn't understand! I literally said everything except the word "cancer" BECAUSE THEY TOLD ME NOT TO SPECIFICALLY SAY WHAT I AM WRITING ABOUT IN MY POEM, and she literally asked me if I was talking about a stomach virus. I just started laughing...literally, I peed on myself from laughing sooo hard. I mean...I guess cancer can give you diarrhea. That is such a hard word to spell. I had to look it up, and the first link to appear said "Don't Let Diarrhea Ruin Your Plans!" Oh, they won't...at least not my plans to be a poet, psssssssssssssssssh.

 

After a long walk to my car and replaying "Miss Movin' On" nearly 8 times, I realized something...something incredible. Why am I upset? I should feel sorry for them, because I, Haley Danielle Moody, listened to Peter Pan and NEVER grew up.

These few individuals grew up so fast so quickly...and so interestingly...that they forgot what it's like to dance to Disney songs in the shower...as a matter of fact, they look down on Disney. When I brought in Taylor Swifts rap song, one girl looked at me and said, "Is this some kind of Hannah Montana s**t or something?" I wanted to look at her and say, "no sweetie...Hannah Montana is now a stripper. I didn't bring you stripper music to listen to." I am probably going to need anger management classes for Christmas.

 

With all that being said, I am so glad to finally say that my Thanksgiving break has begun!!!!!! I mean, I am spending half of it at work, but that means I will have lots of time to play the Sims! I know that seems like a rant that I just went on about my weird ole days, but I have had so much on my heart these past few weeks that it almost seems painful to breathe. Have you ever felt like that? I have to wake up every single morning and remind myself...this is my life. It is time for me to take it back! There is this one individual in my life...and this person doesn't seem to see me as something wonderful like I want them too. It's fine that they don't...but the thing is that they should. I do know one thing, this lost, crunching feeling in my chest that keeps yanking me down and keeping me up at night, and it's not heartburn - I took tums and everything - it's time for me to do what my heart is telling me to do. I always push it aside...everything about it goes to the background because I want to please the entire world! Why do I always want to do something like that? That is waaaaaaaaaaaaay to exhausting for my sleepless mind. The thing about my mind is I have a fearless one that is terminated by lack of rest and negativity. Who knows where that came from...or why it found it's why into my soul, but all I know is...no one is going to fight it for me. And no one is going to fight it for you...except me. Just let me get a few hours of rest in first. I heard this song yesterday morning...the lady sang "Happiness is something we create". You know what, the lady from Sugarland is so right. So for this Thanksgiving... not only am I going to bed super duper early, I am going to show this one person what they haven't been seeing...and what they will be missing if they keep their eyes closed. Like Mr. Alan says, I am a Bombshell...and they don't stick around waiting for something that feels like a whole lot of nothing. And all you lovely ladies and gentlemen shouldn't either - it's time we get our friends and family in check, and realize there actually is a point for us to wake up every morning. Guess what that is? YOU GOT IT - for us to SHIIIIIIIIIIIINE! We are all so amazing, and even though people don't always see that in you, don't you dare give up. Look at me, I wanted to show the world that I am amazing so I ran a dadgum 10k. Even though I almost died, I wouldn't trade that day, or the 6 weeks of recovery, for the world. We are strong, amazing people that God created for a special purpose. I haven't discovered my purpose yet either...but it's out there. That doesn't mean it's going to be easy, we all know that from the dadgum Notebook, but guess what...when we are all old and grey (gray), we will be thankful we took that risk and stood up for ourselves. Now, go be amazing and put down your electronics. Your family won't be around for forever...go hug them and eat everything in site.

 

 

With all the love in my heart,

Haley

 



"I'm a fire starter, make your blood run faster
I melt hearts like water
Yeah yeah oh woah yeah
I'm a fire starter, I'm a sweet disaster
I melt hearts like water
Yeah yeah oh woah yeah
Yeah

I might look all innocent
But the embers are burning inside of me
And I'm ready to take that step, can't you see, can't you see

I'm a bad-ass jumping off the moving train
I'm a Jane Bond, putting all them guys to shame
I'm a wild card, I'm about to take my aim
You better watch out, watch out."

Fire Starter - Demi Lovato

 

"Just because I am lost doesn't mean I am losing" - Coldplay

"Be Careful of the Careful Souls Who Doubt You Along the Way"

Hello lads,

So a number of weeks ago, which all seem to be running together these days, I said that I had an amazing opportunity coming up. No, I wasn't modeling for Victoria's Secret, which is kinda how it sounded from the blog post. I mean, I totally understand the confusion. What can I say? Folks want to take pictures of my bod!


Adriana Lima probably won't happy knowing that I stole her bod.
Totally kidding, that's all me, baby. I'm on that "One Almond a Day Diet."
PSSSH...In my dreams!

After my amazing Victoria's Secret photo shoot dream that I woke up from at 6:15 on a Saturday morning (Please understand my emphasis on the fact that I woke up at 6:15 on a SATURDAY), I quickly began placing my face on...one inch of makeup at a time. I was absolutely frightened...so frightened that I had to remove and replace my makeup a handful of times until finally, I got the painting on the canvas exactly right. After I finished painting my face, I wiggled my way into a pencil skirt and a modest red top; I've always heard that red draws the eyes attention, but I sure didn't want anyones eye-balls directing at my ninnies...or really anything for that matter. I just wanted to get in and get the French toast out!

Luckily, One Tree Hill was on when I began munching on my granola bar. For the first time in all of my 20 years, I felt like I couldn't eat. Everyone who knows of and sees me understands that I am a natural-born eater. What can I say? I love food and it loves me...clearly since it never seems to "unstick" from my body...ESPECIALLY AROUND MY THIGHS! Okay, I swore I was never going to tell anyone this story, but here it goes anyway. LAST DADGUM WEEK, I was sitting at work in my favorite pair of jeans. I went to jump on top of my extremely high-chair and all of a sudden I heard a "riiiiippp". My thighs had rubbed together so much in those jeans that that particular area of my jeans had thinned out so so so much until...there I was...sitting at work...with a rather large, uncomfortable and completely awkward hole in my jeans. All because my dadgum thighs. I WILL FIND A WAY TO GET THEM OFF OF ME!!! I mean, those were my absolute favorite pair of jeans...that I got on sale. It's good...I am trying not to be bitter anymore. Except for the fact that I am doing the Khloe Kardashian Squat Challenge...and it hurts to walk, sit, breath, live...you know, just everything.

Clearly she doesn't have the "thighs rubbing together while wearing your favorite jeans" problem.
She has a pretty significant gap right there in the middle. IT'S COOL! I'm not bitter...

ANYWAYS, back to the original story. There I was, watching delicious Nathan Scott:

I truly think Taylor Swift was singing about him:

"And you've got a smile that can light up this whole town."

Oh man, he's beautiful. Just beautiful. Hopefully Adam doesn't see this...

Have you ever known something was going to happen, like an event, such as having your wisdom teeth removed or going on a terrible date OR knowing that school is going to start again, but you push it in the farthest spot of your mind, pretending like it doesn't exist or won't ever happen? Well, this is what I did, until I realized it was time to leave my apartment.

I had to drive thirty or so miles outside of Northport to a place called Sokol Park. This isn't your average Dream Park or Johnson Park where everything is in your line of vision...no. This park had so many twists and turns and round-a-bouts until finally I just turned up my Taylor Swift CD and followed a random car. Luckily they were going to the same place as myself.

Ladies and possible Gentlemen who take the time out to read my rando blogs, this is the moment I have been leading up to. I, Haley Danielle Moody, am the new contributing writer at North of the Living paper. Now, just so you all know, I am not much of a newspaper writer. I don't like the news, especially not these days. Seems like people are always dying on trains and airplanes or someone has some bad news to break to me about healthcare. BLAH! But the best part about this newspaper is...I can be as silly as I want to. Unfortunately...I didn't find that out until the next article I was assigned.

The very first article, the reason why I was at a park at 7:45 on a Saturday morning, was about a dog park being dedicated to a young boy who was killed in a hunting accident. Can I please tell you why this dadgum thing was very very very awkward? People were giving speeches about this young boy. It started off as a rather emotional event. I was like the random person at the funeral that none of the family members knew, so I planned to say "I am Uncle Johns daughter" if anyone asked.

After everyone finished sharing stories and thoughts about this young boy, I had to go get a quote from this one particular man...which was the boys uncle. Ugh, I hate talking to people that I don't know...especially in a situation like that. I just felt like a burden, or a stickler, or part of the dadgum paparazzi trying to snatch the life out of this man. So, I went to talk to these little girls instead, hehe! Every little girl wants to be in the newspaper, right? After I talked to them, they ran to their mothers and said "mama! Mama! Guess what? I am going to be in the NEWSPAPER! That lady (look at me being referred to as a lady) over there just told me I was!" I always knew I was a dream maker. But those two girls made me feel like I could take on the world. So I took my happy butt over to that dadgum man and said, "Hello, my name is Haley Moody and I am a writer for North of the River Living Paper. I am writing about this incredible event and I realized I was missing something: you!" He started cheesing like a cheeseburger and I knew I had him! Hahahaha!

Here is the second most difficult part. I went home after getting some coffee from Starbucks - Salted Caramel Frap is DA BOMB, just FYI - and  turned on Grey's Anatomy while I began writing the article. I worked and worked and worked...and decided then and there that I never wanted to do this again. I am not a newspaper writer. I pretty much just write whatever is on my mind...in a blog...not really concerned about anyone ever reading it, ahaha! But this? This article? It goes to 23,000 homes every month.
I finally got it to 250 words, like one of the editors asked, and decided that it was time to close my eyes and send it in. Guys, I was sending in an article...to my editor! I felt like Carrie Bradshaw off of Sex in the City!!!

The next day, I saw that I had an email back from my editor. Let me just go find it and tell you what it said. Blah, blah, blah...HERE WE GO - "Thank you so much for sending this so promptly. This is a good start, but there is still some work needed to be done on it. I will send it through our editing team and I will keep you updated. Thanks again!" This email just...wasn't what I was wanting back. I was wanting it to spit rainbows and strawberries, OH and unicorns with Heath Ledger delicately riding atop. I simply figured that I had gotten what I wished for...no more articles for Haley. Weirdly enough, I was sad about this.

A few short weeks later, I got an email from my editor. Let me just update you all on our friendship status. I seriously think we are "besties for the resties". The other day, we emailed each other back for hours talking about candy making us big as a house and Keurig Coffee Makers...oh, and Santa! Ahaha! She's like a pin-pal that I never expect to meet but hope that someday I will. But anyways, this email said "Go to http://notrl.com/ and look at the front page. You may recognize someone."

There. It. Was.

I don't know if anyone caught on, but my freaking name is on the FRONT PAGE!
No big deal: only 23,000 people saw this.
I am pretty sure I'm famous now! People are always pointing at me like they recognize me!
Oh wait...I left my pimple medicine on my face again.

 PS - I went to that Haunted House "Main Avenue Mortuary." I literally mean it when I say I went TO it. It was like Morgan Palmer's 5th grade Halloween party all over again. I got out as soon as I got in...except I didn't even get in. Mike Myers started following me around. I am sure he just liked following my booty or something...but I hate being followed. THEN...ALL OF A DADGUM SUDDEN, SOME FREAK OF NATURE FROM INSIDE STARTED POUNDING ON THE DADGUM WALLS. I was done. I walked my happy butt right back to Anna's red bug and sat there. You can absolutely call me a chicken..because I am! "BAWK BAWK".

Anyways, that's my story to fame. Totally kidding, but hey, maybe it will help me get my feet in the door whenever my happy-loving self GRADUATES from dadgum COLLEGE. Ugh, someday. Let me tell you, I am ready. Mostly because I hate living in an apartment...and hate the one I am living in. BUT I REFUSE TO MOVE AGAIN...well, until I get a house with a garden and bay window. Yes, I have a list of demands and a Pinterest page to accompany them. ( http://www.pinterest.com/hdmoody/my-dream-home/ )

Back to the newspaper story, yet again! I actually did another story over the weekend. Let me tell you, I cried whenever my editor messaged me back again. Can I please share with you what she said back? "THIS is FABULOUS!" I sat at work and cried like a pregnant woman watching that Sarah McLachlan commercial with the sad dogs. Oh my gosh, I'm nowhere near pregnant and it makes my happy butt cry every single time. If I had money, they sure would get every single penny just because they pulled my dadgum heartstrings. I use the word dadgum alot, don't I?

Well, I won't keep you guys any longer! I tend to talk a whole lot and I can't make it stop - it's like diarrhea. Too much, huh? :) hehe

I will end on a good note, though. The trees are changing colors and the weather is changing temperatures. I believe this is the time of season where everyone is falling in love with someone...or maybe just falling in love with scarves. Either way, one day wasted is one day you'll never get back. Enjoy life and love everything that accompanies it. Call your parents. Call your sister. Call your German grandma, hehe. We all have to do everything we can to be a happier, better "us". I have been working on this for a while. The very first day was the day I took a risk and emailed the lady at North of the River Living paper. I never wanted people to read my crap. Well, I did but I didn't. Here I am doing the dang thing, though. I took a risk. Now, I want to hear about all of yours.

Stay safe - wear seat belts - don't kill the fans of the opposing team.
 


                 Love Always,
                                Haley Bug
But the future of us all rests on the shoulders of your heart
Where are we going
Oh I don't know
But still I've got to go
What will become of us
Oh I don't care
All I know is I'll go anywhere
Pioneer
Oh pioneer
So young and brave
Be careful of the careful souls who doubt you along the way
Pioneer
You orphaned child
Your mother is adventure and your father is the wild.
Pioneer - The Band Perry

Let your heart not be troubled...

Run Baby Run, Don't Ever Look Back

Hello Munchkins -

As always, I am incredibly delayed trying to post something. I don't know about you guys, but school is really wearing me thin...and not in the skinny kind of way. I know, I know...I should be thankful to be able to study and hopefully make something of myself, but I. Am. TIRED! Anywho, I want to tell you all about a little piece of my summer...then maybe a little something else! ;) I know - I am always full of surprises, but this will make you oh so happy. READY FREDDY?!

 Lets think back to fourth of July, shall we? How did you spend it? Most were waking up late-ish, thankful that they didn't have to work, then preparing for their evening feasts and firework shows. 

As always, I would like to inform you all that I, Haley Danielle Moody, was different. Actually on the morning of the fourth, I didn't even wake up under the big, beautiful Alabama skies. 4:45 in the morning, my alarm sounded letting me know that that day was real...and it was really here. I was outside of Atlanta, with a few Georgia peaches, and my own little peach, lacing my shoes and pinning numbers to my chest...preparing myself for what was about to come. Speaking of my peach, the evening before, Adam and I actually followed a few of my friends to this section of Georgia. The entire time, which was about 4 hours, Adam said, "Haley, are you sure you want to do this? We can turn around! This just seems...I dunno...really crazy!" Thinking back, I realize I really should've listened to him.

 There I was, getting off the Marta, waving good-bye to ole Adam as he floated away into the midst of Atlanta, Georgia, and finally realizing that I really had to do this. Have you ever made up hundreds of scenarios in your mind simply hoping that one of them would happen just so you could get out of a hiatus? Well, there I was, praying that aliens would invade...or that Taylor Swift would finally give me a call-back to be her make-up artist. I think it's safe to say my dreams didn't come true that day. But as crazy as it sounds, I am almost glad that they didn't. Don't get any ideas, Taylor. I am still waiting on that phone call.

 We walked up the street in Atlanta and my heart felt like it was one continuous beat! I literally think if you would've been able to place your ear to my chest that day, it would've sounded like a monkey on crack with a drum...and I didn't even drink and AMP that day! My eyes were plastered on the concrete road because I couldn't bare to look up. Suddenly, my friend Michael, who very kindly forced me into doing this, stopped. There it was: the starting line.

 I, the same Haley Danielle Moody as stated before, was about to complete my very first 10k...well, hopefully. Here's the thing : running and myself don't exactly mix well. It's like mixing water and oil - one is going rush to the top of the solution, and the other is going to rush to the bottom. It may be hard to believe, but my heart began beating faster. Then Michaels father said, "only 6.2 miles past that point, Haley!" My thoughts: "Well that's just fantastic...because I don't even think I can make it to that point." There I was, along with 60,000 other Peachtree Road Racers, praying that the end was near...and that wings would form on our backs.

I got to be "Pamela" for an hour!

Suddenly the announcers words twisted with the lyrics "Never thought I'd live to see the day
when everybody's words got in the way" and we began our 6.2 mile journey. I saw so many amazing people, such as a cute 92 year old man delicately walking with a cane and a shirt that said, "meet you at the finish line."  I was also sprinkled with holy water and high-fived by so many little nuggets on the sidewalk - I think they somehow found out that I was a princess. I never once thought about running a road race...ever. I just already knew in my mind that I wouldn't have made it to the end and would've embarrassed the crapola out of myself. Guess what, guys? Not once was I embarrassed...well, I wasn't after I finally started the race. Sometimes I just have keep reminding myself that I have to give myself a chance...to either fail or succeed. We all do, really. This doesn't mean that I am going sky diving, though...so Adam, go ahead and get over it.

 Are you ready to see the photos from my journey to the end of the road?

This was midway through the race.
I threw up my "Hook-um Horns" for my big sista, Haley.
Confused yet?

FIVE MINUTES LATER

I look like one of those ladies you see power-walking the mall.
But hey...from this picture, it looks like I am leading the pack!

On the left, of course, is Gerard Butler. I MEAN ADAM!!!
The fellah on the right is one of my best friends EVVAH!
Michael - the top is our before...the bottom is after.
Boy, we are sweeeeaaaaaaaty...but amazing!

This is how it all ended.
It literally took me three days to recover...I am dead serious!

Speaking of my homeboy, Michael. I know I made him seem like a warden earlier, but he truly is a wonderful person. We all know how I feel about my body and ect. Last year he helped me through a lot of incredibly difficult times, and he doesn't even know how he did that. Every single night we went to the gym together, he taught me I needed to fight. That nothing, not even beauty, comes easy in this world. You have to fight to be happy, so when I almost wanted to give up and get off the treadmill or quit with one more rep to finish, he told me to keep pushing. Let me tell you something, that boy saw me cry a lot from my insecurities and frustration. Not once did he get mad, or tell me that I couldn't do it...he simply kept reminding me that I have it in me. Sometimes that's all we need to hear, you know? We all want to know and to believe we can do something amazing...such as finish a 10k, or write for people who will read and find you to be amazing. We all have dreams...and the only thing keeping us from succeeding is ourselves.

So here I am, starting out my new week with something incredible. I, Haley Danielle Moody, a girl who, by Victoria's Secret standards, am considered to be a plus-sized female. So what...there is nothing wrong with that if that is what you choose to be. But for me, it's time for change...so that I can be confident. I always give up once things get difficult or time consuming...but I refuse to do that any longer. Also, I, Haley Danielle Moody, have an incredible opportunity coming up this Saturday. I can't wait to tell you all about it...but that's the other big surprise, so I don't want to ruin it for you guys. I just keep letting my fear get in the way of my excitement. BUT...here goes nothing, right?

So for all you guys...it's time to do something amazing. We are all stuck in that "safe" moment...afraid to tell our big secrets for fear of hurting our parents or friends. So what if you don't want to be a doctor anymore...or if you don't want to date the guy your mother keeps pushing on you. So what? That moment when we start feeling lost is the same moment when we let ourselves be lost. Put those running shoes on...tie them tight. You can't make it to the finish line unless you believe....right, Michael?

I love you all, always -
Haley

"Never ever let the world get the best of you
Every night we're apart, I'm still next to you
Cause that's the way I like to do it."
Made in the USA - Demi Lovato

You Don’t Feel Pretty, You Just Feel Used; And All The Young Things Line Up To Take Your Place

Hello chit-lins,

A few months ago, I attended Passion in Atlanta, GA. While it was very tiring because we literally walked from 8 o'clock in the morning until about 12:30 that night/ the next morning, it was also full of some amazing experiences...and some not so amazing ones. There were speakers that came and talked to us about God and all of His beauty - they were so fantabulous; literally, that's the only way to describe them all. Usually you would expect speakers to be very boring and dry, but most of them made jokes, probably because they knew that all 60,000 of us had short attention spans, so they would add tid bits of humor and life experiences in the mix of their stories. All in all, I thoroughly enjoyed Passion, even when I was standing in the pouring rain trying to find pieces of my glasses. OH WAIT - I haven't even told you that story yet. That, my dear friends, is the "not so amazing" experience. Man oh man...you are in for a real "krispy" treat.

On the very first day, Callie, Devin and I were all "heading towards the dome" in the pouring rain. (Sounds like a Taylor Swift song, doesn't it?) Well, I wear glasses, which don't exactly repel water or have any mini windshield wipers on them, so I took my glasses off to clean them for mine and everyone else's walking safety. After holding them to my face and checking them for smudges and smears, I placed them in their normal location and continued my journey. Before taking more than three steps, I realized my left eye was incredibly blurry. At that exact moment, I realized the lens that is usually in that place was now missing. I hit the ground like Maximus in the movie Tangled, and began searching the premises.

 All I ended up with was a wad of wet hair on my head and scuffed up knees from the grainy concrete. I soon gave up and continued walking to the dome, allowing the anger to build up in my body - I promise I tried and tried to find them, but sixty thousand people were walking directly towards me while I was on the ground. I just knew in the back of my mind that they were all going to crush me to smithereens. After finding the rest of my group in the dome, I sat down and told my friends about my blindness. Testing my vision, I began turning around and reading everything possible. Right below a huge coke sign, which I could actually read thank you very much, I saw a blind guy heading to his seat. He was smiling with every bone and muscle in his body. I literally don't think I've ever seen anyone happier than him, and I have seen plenty of kids in candy stores in my lifetime...including myself. I then realized that maybe, just maybe, my situation wasn't really as bad as I was making it out to be. So what if David Crowder's (for all that knows who I am talking about, spell check wants me to change his last name to Chowders, ahaha)  beard hit his knees in my eyes...and if I sang most of the words wrong to every single song even though they all appeared across a HUMUNGO screen...oh, and that I tripped every single time while going UP the escalator? Sometimes we all have to remind ourselves that matters could truthfully be worse, right...and even those aren't as bad as we see them. I mean, I could've lost both of my lenses and broken all of my limbs in the process...BUT, I didn't. I definitely need to knock on wood now.

David Crowders beard is only that long?
Crap..
My eyes are worse than I thought.

While at Passion, I heard many artists and bands perform Christian music, some of which I knew and others that I didn't. LeCrae, who is a Christian rapper, would give us words of wisdom in-between each song that he performed. One of the quotes that literally tumbled around in my mind for all of eternity was, "If you waste time worrying about what people think of you, well then you are just left with a wasted life." You see what I just did there? I italicized the word "wasted", you know...for dramatic affect. Anyways, I sat there for a moment and marveled at him and those perfect words that he had just released in the air to 60,000 pairs of young ears. All I could think was, "what a waste of a life I have lived so far". I say that and I know you are thinking, "oh my gosh - what a drama queen", but that's not what I mean. All of the twenty, thankyouverymuch, years of my life, I have let peoples thoughts and images of me dictate my, well, everything! In Middle School, which were the worst years of everyone's life, am I right or am I right? Anyways, I let girls trample all over me. Afterwards I would simply get up, dust myself off and apologize for being in the way. I WOULD BE THE ONE TO APOLOGIZE...which reminds me. Ethan, a character from my favorite movie, describes it perfectly. "Rachel, I am not going to hear this 'daddy hits me because he loves me' crap anymore!" That is so dang true, and sadly, it didn't end when I entered high school either. Girls, such as the ones on the cheerleading squad, would always say "oh that Haley is such a sweetheart", and like clockwork, they would tear me down to my toenails just minutes after. People say cheerleading is just a bunch of, excuse my French, skanks trying to get themselves a football player for a boyfriend by showing their pikachus on the sidelines. Do you mind if I told you a little secret? It was never anything like for me. Literally, some of the girls on the squad had a mini one-on-one session with muah to teach me how to 'roll my body'...I was just a shy, little thing. OH, and I was the girl trying to pull down my cheerleading uniform while others had theirs pulled up to their boobies. But during boot camp, excuse me, I meant to say cheerleading camp, approximately 10 minutes into our training, I had a massive black eye and mouth full of blood all because my two other bases saw football players while our flyer was sky-high. Just a little tid-bit for all you high school football players out there - you are every single girls dream in high school. Can you please do me a dang favor and 1) try not to be a man-whore and use your beauty to get with every dadgum girl in the entire world. That is how sweet and innocent girls get turned into bitter skankettes, just FYI...and 2) KEEP YOUR DADGUM SHIRTS ON WHILE PEOPLE ARE PRACTICING. Some of us 'little people' get knocked out because of it. Yes, I am talking to you, retired number 18.

Listen...don't hate...
Just because I said I was a cheerleader didn't mean I was actually GOOD.

At that time, I was all skin and bones because my life only consisted of waking up early in the morning, kissing my sickly father on the cheek before going to dadgum cheerleading bootcamp, then returning back home to be by his side, which would result in me forgetting to eat, aha. Well, as we all know, you need energy to cheer your buns off, right? Right! So I would drink buttloads of Mountain Dew a day, leaving me with this body:




Before...
Yeah, I am from the music video "Girlfriend" by Avril Lavigne.
Thank you for noticing, but try to keep it a secret.
The paparazzi frighten me.

After...
The definition of a whole lot to love, right?

Please take a hot second to recognize all the similarities between this and the "before" photo.

The first person to name them all will win the grand prize of...

my heart. :)

Of course, college has "encouraged" my body's, uh, growth, but before that one summer filled with endless rivers of Mountain Dew, I had a clavicle bone that could be seen from Mars - I am dead serious. I have had phonecalls from Mars with "life forms" asking me how on Earth (haha, thats punny) I made my clavicle protrude in such a way! Anyways, sorry about that. I got a little bit off topic. OH YEAH - wasting life. People have left footprints on my body and heart, but it's not the cute kind that Leona Lewis sings about. These kinds of footprints left me feeling broken and unworthy. Unworthy of wonderful friends, such as my homegirl, Devin, who also weathered the storm of cheerleading by my side.

These are the two coolest "cheerleaders" you'll ever meet.
WHAM.
You shall feel very blessed for being able to view this photo.

Unworthy of a true and loving boyfriend. Don't tell Mr. Adam, but I still to this day wonder why God has placed him in my crazy life. A relationship I had with a guy many years before left me feeling like I didn't deserve someone who told me I was beautiful when I didn't have makeup on, you know, like everyone's favorite Katy Perry song. Oh, and that I didn't deserve someone who opened the dern car door for me, or someone who held my hand in public without being embarrassed, or someone who called me at night just to hear my voice for a few minutes and NOT to call and break me into a million different pieces. This guy right here, he always reminds me that I can do anything I put my mind too - even being a police officer, right Adam? - as long as I never give up. Now I don't know about you guys, but that's my definition of Prince Charming. Sorry homeboy off of Cinderella. OOH! Actually...we are going to be Rapunzel and Flynn Ryder at Disney in a few years! Totally his idea. ;)

Look at this guy, just look at him!

That cute little smile and those cute little hairs on his head,

I literally think he is as cute as they come.

"All at once, everything looks different - now that I see you."
Speaking of different, Adam...I'm thinking this hairstyle is a no-go for you. :)

Unworthy of a beautiful body. I have this section on Pinterest called "Work Those Muscles". I'm sure every woman in the world who has Pinterest, which is pretty much every woman in the world, has a section like that, too. I add pins to it, such as beautiful women with toned booties, tanned bodies and ripped tummies. I have over a hundred pins on that one board. Ask me how many I have gone back to try any of those little things? Only the ones with really yummy smoothie recipes. HA, I'm only halfway kidding. I have actually tried a few of those workouts...but I always end up frustrated because nothing ever seems to be working...and my dadgum thighs never seem to look like the ones on those lovely ladies. ITS WHATEVER THOUGH! I have learned a few things on this twenty year weight loss journey: 1) The whole "losing weight" thing isn't gonna happen unless you TRULY want it. It is something you are going to have to work with and fight for every single day. 2). Never take weight loss pills/powders/patches. Trust me when I say this...you will end up on the bathroom floor at the Rec Center shaking and dry heaving. It ain't a happy place. And 3). Never EVER go running while wearing shorts - your thighs will rub and it will hurt to wear clothes for the next few days. Actually, just don't ever go running...it's truly a terrible, terrible thing to do. Not for your body...but just in general.

Last semester I was taking a Creative Writing class. While it was quite intimidating with only fourteen other hooligans in my class, it was also one of my absolute favorite classes I had ever taken in Tuscaloosa...other than Self Defense. At the end of the semester, we had to write an 8-10 page paper on something we were obsessed with. Most people chose money, or clothes, or partying...except for me. I chose my body. I titled it "Why Can't That Be Me?" Don't worry, though...it wasn't anything depressing. I talked about when I was kid, thinking that the reason why my fathers hair was brown was because he drank too much coffee, and I actually added hilarious photos of me from cheerleading, such as the third photo I placed on here, and this one, which is my favorite picture in the whole wide world:

I wish my problem was NEEDING to gain weight.
An old friend of mine used to say - "I hate being skinny. It's so annoying."
Oh yeah, man. I totally agree..........

                                                  
Also, I just talked about the worlds horrific view on body images. I just re-read the whole paper, and I must say "DANG, I. AM. GOOD!" We are all victims of this - looking in the mirror and wishing for something else. Guys, you do it with your muscles. Women, you do it with...well, everything! We are taught to always want more even if you did just lose 30 pounds. I question why the world is so messed up...but then I read this:

"Every girl is expected to have caucasian blue eyes, full Spanish lips, a classic button nose, hairless Asian skin with a California tan, a Jamaican dance hall butt, long Swedish legs, small Japanese feet, the abs of a lesbian gym owner, the hips of a nine-year-old boy, and the arms of Michelle Obama. The only person close to actually achieving this look is Kim Kardashian, who, as we know, was made by Russian scientists to sabotage our athletes. Everyone else is struggling." - Tina Fey

Well, we now know that Kim Kardashian is actually human. Anyways, someday, somehow...we will all get back to the time where a little bit of "extra loving" is still considered beauty...and dessert after dinner is a must. But in the end...every single person on this planet is beautiful. I wake up every single day feeling the exact opposite...but I just have to remember - I'm a whole lot to love, right?

I have a prayer request - I am applying for an internship that involves blog making, writing creatively and well...being myself!!! It could open a few doors for me in the future, which could prevent me from living in a box! That's a good thing, because I don't think my bed would fit in there!

"You had it figured out since you were in school.
Everybody loves pretty, everybody loves cool.
So overnight you look like a sixties’ queen."

The Lucky One - Taylor Swift

Forever and Always,

Haley