Tuesday, November 26, 2013

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."


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

Thursday, November 7, 2013

"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...