All Of The Other Reindeer Use To Laugh And Call Him Names

Hello ladies and gents,

Before y'all ask why I am talking about Christmas, I just want you all to know that I am incredibly delayed in publishing this here blog. For the past month, I have been going through a couple of "life issues"- and no, that doesn't mean lady issues, geeze - BUT I then remembered how much writing has always helped me through the little things in this crazy pants thing called life. Woohoo. Anyways, so here I am...discussing my "before Christmas" adventure. Are you ready to do a little time traveling?

Last month, I attended a Christmas party with my wonderful roommate, Megan. Now, let me ask you a quick question - when you think about Christmas parties, what comes to your mind? If you Christmas sweaters and colorful socks, then I am giving you an air-five right this very second, because that's exactly what I thought, too. I showed up in my blinking Rudolph shirt and my hair in long pig-tails thinking that I was going to be underdressed. Ha...hahaha, my mind really is a funny ole place. As I walked in - Rudolph's nose on my shirt was blinking like a light bulb in its final days - I looked at all the other guests who were sitting on the surrounding couches and chairs, realizing they all had on tee shirts or cute tops, then I walked in...clearly I was the "light" of their lives. I actually wasn't embarrassed or anything..which is a lot coming from an introvert. We finished playing Dirty Santa - by the way, Devin, you'd be so proud; I brought anti-diarrhea pills, feminine products, a broken coffee cup, and some powder called monkey butt -and I looked over at the couch and saw two girls who were staring at me and whispering. Once my eyes met theirs, they quickly looked away. So, I looked away then quickly darted my eyes back like a puma and found them laughing like a bunch of middle schoolers. At that moment, I found myself feeling sorry for them. With that being said, I could only think of one thing while I watched them chuckle: you don't even must know me, white girls. (Did any one else start singing Beyonce? "you must not know 'bout me; you must not know 'bout me. I can have anooooother you in a minute...." oh, just me?)

This was from a completely different Christmas Party, but
I realized I needed a little something Christmas-y to round this shin-dig up!

Who am I, you ask? Well, that's a great question, because honestly, I am still figuring that one out myself. But if you have a few moments, and even the slightest bit of care, I would love to tell you what I have come up with so far. Actually, it's quite a tangled hot mess with a cherry on top, so saying you're in for a real treat is quite punny isn't it? AHAHAH, gosh I'm just so dadgum funny today. Anywho, you may be slightly surprised by the results; I totally just reeled you in, didn't I?

First and foremost, I, Haley Danielle Moody, am a child of God. You may not have known that particular piece of information because I really am not a walking poster child - every single day I do things that God wishes I didn't. For example, I worry myself to death. For those who read the Bible, we all know that worrying doesn't add a single hour to our lives, so why worry? I have no idea, but with each day that passes, I do my best to worry less. Like I always say, "you really can't worry about the little things". That's a Haley Original, by the way. But at night, I pray and I ask God for guidance and forgiveness because I know I am not perfect, and I know that I never will be. I have done so many things that I know must've disappointed God and my parents, and I pray each and every single night that they all can forgive me, especially God. He has saved me from complete and utter disaster so so so so many times, for which I still don't understand why. He is my light in the storm, the hand I reach for when I drown, and the friend that never leaves my side, which is something I am ever so greatful for.

I am a lover of music - I can bust out in song at any moment, similar to High School Musical, except I call it Haley Musical...original, right? If I could sing, the musical would be a whole lot more enjoyable, but I am just workin' with what I have. ;) My favorite musician is Taylor Swift - that particular statement always causes some kind of controversy, which makes me so happy, because each time someone says how much they hate her, I get to say why I love her. Taylor Swift started singing just as my daddy became ill. I actually think I was listening to Teardrops on my Guitar when my brother came in the computer room to tell me that the doctors weren't able to remove his tumor during surgery because they found cancer cells and air seems to make those cell spread faster, so they quickly closed him up and wished him the best of luck with the final year of his life. After that, Taylor just kinda stuck to me. She and I would sing together in my bedroom, we would cry together in my car, and we would hurt together when tragedy struck. When my mother passed away, I remember singing Last Kiss in my head the whole way to Dothan, knowing that I was definitely going to be able kiss my mother on her soft cheek after she was released from the hospital...Taylor reminded me that I needed to kiss her while her heart was still slowly pounding. Taylor has also helped my friends and I get over boys that shouldn't have been in our lives in the first place. For instance, one of my dear, sweet friends suffered a devastating breakup during our 10th grade year that she is now so thankful for happening. We wrote down a few hurt feelings on pieces of paper then went out to her yard and put them to flames, watching them, and the idiots who starred in them, vanish from our lives. Not only is Taylor a wonderful singer to me, she is also so incredibly caring. She donates a good portion of her paycheck to a variety of organizations - she is slowly but surely changing the world in my eyes. Yes, she isn't very good with the men, but let's all be honest...WHO THE CRAP IS? Okay, yes smarty pants - Faith Hill is still going strong with our homeboy Tim McGraw, but she's older and more mature, blah blah blah...anyways, we were talking about Taylor Swift! Behind every successful person, there are atleast 1000 successful haters...so you go Taylor Swift, killing the freaking game!


An actual photo with the real Taylor Swift!
She is literally 8'4, y'all!
"Blonde hair to da flooor"

Some like to say that I am a vampire because that's how little I sleep every single night. Nope, I don't feed off of humans, there are no fangs in my mouth, and I have no special powers...well, there is one thing - I do glitter in the sunlight, but it's only because of the type of makeup I use...actually, I don't even get to glitter in the sun anymore because I haven't been wearing makeup! I just heard you gasp, geeze! All in all, I just don't sleep. I stay up at night thinking, wondering, dreaming with my eyes open. Weird, right? This all started after Christmas break my sixth grade year. It was the morning we started back school, and when I say morning, I remember the clock displaying 2:12 in big, red letters. I had gotten up multiple to drink warm milk and waste time by walking around the house - the whole time I was walking around I was completely freaking out: "I am not going to be able to focus in school today. I am gonna fail my classes, then I won't be able to become anything in this world except for a bum." Yeap, I was in the sixth grade. The next night, I figured I would fall right to sleep from staying up all night - nope, I was wide awake...and I have been ever since. I have tried everything to make myself fall asleep. During my middle school years, I drank Benedryll like it was a cherry soda. That happened until my mother found 16 or so empty bottles of the stuff under my bed. Listen, don't judge me...I had really bad anxiety. Nowadays, I take a Melatonin, watch Friends, then snuggle with my puppy until the Sand Man sprinkles his "sleepy powder" over my eyes. I really mean it when I say that I try to sleep...but I find it to be so difficult. It's similar to when a fat kid tries to resist a cream cheese danish - the hardest part is walking by, and while they are doing that, they can't help but ask themselves "whyyyyy meee?" Yes, why can't I sleep!? Maybe someday I will be a professional sleeper or something...hehehe. What a wonderful life, right?

Yeah buddy - this is what I spend my hours doing...uh, creating.

I kind of have this thing...well, problem...with doors. I have to check every single one of them multiple times before I go to bed. If I don't, well I wouldn't know because I just have to do it! This all started during the final weeks of my fathers life. He would be in his and my mothers bedroom sleeping on his fluffy ole hospital bed. Every single night before I went to bed, I would stand at the doorway, like a creeper, and blow him atleast five perfect goodnight kisses. If they weren't absolutely perfect, then I would start over. So, I would be standing at the doorway for hours upon hours...all because I thought that if I didn't blow him five perfect kisses, he would die. A few years after my daddy passed away, my little problem came back and switched its course. Both of my brothers and my sister were all moving out, literally at the same time, and my mother started working night shifts...so there I was, in that HUMUNGO house, all by my lonesome. OH, but we can't forget all of those dogs... Anywho, my mind would race at night. I'd hear the dog cages rattle and I would instantly think someone was trying to break in and kill me...you know, because I had so many people out to get me. This little issue followed me to school. I literally quit going to my locker because I had to stand there, turn my lock three times after closing it or my brain told me someone was going to break into my locker, steal my books, stash dead bodies, I dunno, but it was going to happen! I was terrified. My junior year of high school - my teachers actually brought it up in front of the world...laughing at me and calling me crazy pants - Thanks homegirls! It gets worse - for my vehicle, haha, I have to flick my front handle twice with two fingers, my back handle twice with three fingers, then my front handle twice again with two fingers. I know what you are thinking - "wow, you are two scoops of coo coo cachoo", but seriously, I am. I can't seem to fight this dumb ole problem!!! It's actually quite exhausting, and the prime reason why I am never ever ever on time...like ever!

This picture literally gives me the heebie geebies...
WHO WOULD DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS?

Ahahaaa, well, I wouldn't call it paranoid...but I wouldn't not call it that either. On the day that I take a test, I have a specific little "process" that I have to go through. First, I get my happy-loving self out of my bed, then I walk to the mirror and ask my self "Why the crap do I have eye bags"...actually, I do that every morning so just delete that from your memory. I walk to my closet and find my lucky shirt. This particular shirt has been with me since my Junior year of high school, I do believe. I wore it on a day I was taking a big ole Chemistry test. I am one of those people who freaks out over tests...just thinks it's the end of the world. Well, on the day I wore this shirt...I MADE AN A+ ON THAT TEST. So, every single day since then, I have wore this shirt. ACT. Final Exams. Regular ole tests. And just those random days when you need a little extra good luck. Trust me...this shirt doesn't even get washed during finals week...it's quite icky. Anyways, this shirt came from a place in Panama City called Pineapple Willys. Have you ever been there? Well, my mother LOVED that place. So I got the most outrageous shirt just to show my mother how daring I was, it's a seafoam greenish mintish color, and of course, it became lucky. There are numerous bleach and ink stains on this shirt because it's literally been through it all...but I wear my other necessary item over it, so no one really knows about those smudges. This other necessary item is rather new...and incredibly random. Do you know that rough-ish fabric they make Long Johns out of? Or you may know them as thermals. Well, it's a navy blue thermal pullover curtousy of my long lost friend, Sam. He left this at my house one night after an Ambassador Event. I actually found it a few months ago when I was going through some boxes from my oldish house. Well, not only do I receive endless amounts of hugs from Sam while wearing this, I also made a dadgum A on a PreCal exam last semester - that deserves a hallelujah right there, thank you very much! Anyways, after I throw those two articles of clothing on, I head for my car. While driving to campus, I have have have have have to listen to two songs.....or I am pretty sure I am just gonna fail my tests. Numero uno of the songs is always "Into Your Arms" by the Maine...I have to let it play to four seconds...then restart it (that process has to repeat four times)...then I start playing it AND FIST PUMP THE WHOLE WAY THERE! Next, I have to listen to "A Little Too Much" by Natasha Bedingfield, mostly because it's off of my favorite movie "Something Borrowed", and I definitely think I am a Rachel, and she has that happiest of all endings...so it's kinda like a little reminder stating "hey girl - every little thing is gonna be 'ight!"

My numero uno biggest fear is being alone. It frightens me absolutely positively to death...but the other weird thing about that is...it's also my favorite. I love weekends when I can be alone, walk around the apartment with only my undies on, dance on the balcony while singing to the oncoming traffic (with clothes on) and just stay up all night watching really really sad movies while the rest of the world catches up on their 8 hour beauty rests. The hard part is when the movie stops and the music ends...I am just sitting there and my mind can't stop thinking. My mind wonders off and its like a little birdie in my head reminding me how incredibly lonesome I am sometimes. I start thinking about the future...like what am I going to be in life, but seriously though? I thought I knew but my wonderful Mass Comm teacher literally put a cleat on his foot and did some kind of Mexican dance on my face. Yeah - imagine that real quick...it ain't perty! I am afraid of saying "yes, my name is Haley and I want to do _____ for th rest of my life". It's like when you are dating a guy and you have to sit there and really ask yourself, "do I really care about him with all of my heart?"...because maybe you thought you did and you guys got engaged, but then one day you wake up and realize you just made the biggest mistake of your life. No, I do not know that from personal experience or anything...I was just saying. :) I want to do something that matters, something that keeps me smiling every day, something that helps other people than myself. Without knowing that I am of some kind of help to someone, I feel alone. It's all quite a ferris wheel of a ride, isn't it?

I am 110% a hopeless romantic - oh my gosh, it sucks. Actually, let me rephrase that. I am a person who feels absolutely everything 110%...and when it comes to movies and love and romance and beautiful things, it really sucks. A few weeks ago, I was watching this movie End of Watch. Let me just give you the low down - I watched this movie only because Adam made me. I am not one for guns and shooting and people dying for reasons like I mentioned in sentence numero drei (3) in this paragraph/standza-maboo. Unfortunately, this movie showed waaay more than a few shootings and a couple random drive-bys - my mind was boggled. At the end of the movie, I sat there crying like a close family member of mine had just died in front of my eyes. It's simply because I placed myself in a few peoples position...I felt every bullet, every broken heart and every bit of saddness that the movie so very kindly wanted me to feel. I am the dadgum prime example of the kinds of people all these movie producers hope and pray will come watch their movie - don't worry, if the trailer shows something about kissing and someone saying something along the lines of "I love you. I have always loved you. You are the type of woman I have searched for my whole life, and now that I have finally found you...I never want to let you go", I will most likely be sitting front row with a huge bag of popcorn and fighting the urg to blink. But this movie is on the total opposite end of the spectrum. The trailer had nothing to do with love, no kissy kissy, smoochie smoochie; it simply showed two guys doing their jobs, which was being a po-po. They were saving little children from drug-addicted parents, taking on the Mexican Cartel, and many other things that my brain never even knew existed. The sad this was, at the the of this movie, I felt like they were doing something that mattered, which led me back to the previous paragraph and always occuring thought - "what if this is what I want to do with the rest of my life?"

This movie did teach me something valuable...

if you can live without it, you don't need it.

I am so sorry, chocolate. We have to break up.

The very first movie that basically took my emotions on a dadgum roller coaster was the one and only - The Notebook. I watched this movie for the first time during my 10th grade year, after just breaking up with my first real boyfriend due to the fact that he had cheated on me, and also while sitting completely alone in my dark, windowless bedroom.

This guy, I swear he knew I was watching...

He was definitely talking to me....right?

Wait...riiight?!?

Noah, I mean Ryan Gosling, was the first guy to ruin my view of the male population. I swear to you, I went to school the next day watching every single guy that passed my view and put them in two categories - 1) Similar to Noah, or 2)This Dude Ain't Nothing Like Noah. Don't worry, I only judged their personalities, not their looks because that would've been low......:) The way Noah treated Allie, its like she was his everything, like if every possible thing in the future would've failed BUT he still had her by his side, life would've been beyond perfect. Oh my gosh, I am not gonna cry again...

I watch One Tree Hill and can't help but scream "I want that!"

Then I watch 13 Going On 30, and I find myself crying just wanting to shake both of them.

Then I freaking watch P.S. I Love You and just completely die...



...then I can't help but watch it again.

Then I watch 27 Dresses for a little happiness and some cute dresses and end up crying again!

Honestly, we don't even have to talk about A Walk to Remember...

10 Things I Hate About You always breaks my heart - I literally thought Heath Ledger and I were gonna get married...

Then somehow, someway, amidst all the tears and swollen eye-lids, I find this movie.

Oh my gosh, I am officially a puddle on the floor right now. A puddle of Haley Moody. All of these beautiful movies. I need someone to tell me...do we all get happy endings like the fairytales and romantic comedies teach us or is our perfect companion just gonna fall of the face of the earth like in A Walk To Remember or DADGUM P.S. I Love You? Ohhhhh P.S. I Love You...I can't even think about it. You guys, I watched that movie twice in one weekend - let me just tell you, I hadn't felt my heart pitter-patter so much in my entire life until then. Mama Paula...I know you know EXACTLY what I am talking about!

Each of these random blurbs have to do with one particular subject: people all think they have each one of us all figured out, even someone as practical as myself. They sign our "letters" known as our lives, seal us with a kiss, and boom, they have just officially created what they think is our story - but the truth is...we all have more to our stories, even things and secrets that we don't want people to know. Lately, I have been holding mine in and God has been literally pounding at the door in my heart saying "Haley, child, you gotta say it. Never be ashamed." So here is my dirty little secret. Ever since I was in Middle School, I have always had a problem with my body image. I was always atleast two sizes bigger than my friends - while everyone in cheerleading was ordering their extra-small skirts and t-shirts, I was like "yeah homie, gimme a medium". I have always had thighs like dadgum horse while everyone else had thin legs that always seemed to be "beach-frolicking" ready.

I mean, that is exactly what my lower half looks like...

tail and all.

But lets be honest, Middle School isn't easy for anyone. When I finally made it to High School, things got a little better up until my sophmore year - Mountain Dew and life got the best of me. After I realized that, I quit eating much, started sleeping less and less, and my self-esteem dwindled along with everything else. When I turned 18, I was so dadgum excited because I was finally old enough to start taking diet supplements. All the beautiful celebrities were doing it and I would've given my left boob to look half as pretty as them. Unfortunately, I really over did it. I mixed slimquick packets and hydroxicut packets together after reading that a celebrity had done something like that. Then one day a month or two ago, I literally fainted. I didn't think about it. I honestly didn't realize what I was doing. Our dadgum image of beauty is so flawed these days that it's screwing us all over. We try the stupidest things to become perfect because the world and every magazine feels the need to tell us that we aren't anything close to beautiful...so we need to try harder. What the messticles. "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." Thank you Tina Fey; this girl knows exactly what she is talking about, well, everything except about Kim Kardashian...



This girl is finally pregnant...

I don't think shes got a dance-hall butt now :)

This is just a brief little start about me. I just realized that I practically wrote a dadgum novel on my life, and lets be honest - it's a beautiful day outside and we all need to be enjoying that. Ahaha, oh, but just one more thing, I love chocolate chip cookie poptarts and blue Calypso's. Just, you know, a few other little important facts about my life. Hahaha, yes, poptarts are important.

It's finally almost spring break time for the University of Alabama - can I get an a-men? I will be Mobile bound to help my sister move out of her apartment, then I will HOPEFULLY be heading towards the beach because my skin desperately needs it...and I mean desperately. I literaly stood next to a white wall yesterday and realized that I blended in. No bueno! Have a wonderful weekend and remember to stay safe and watch out for the Mexican Cartel...they is crazy. :P



Love Always,

Haley

"Even angels have their wicked schemes,

And you take that to new extremes.

But you'll always be my hero,

Even though you've lost your mind."

Love The Way You Lie Part 2 - Rihanna