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

This One's A Fighter

As you all know from simply clicking on Facebook, November is the month to recognize all the things you are thankful for. Unlike most, I wanted to wait until the very end, and then some, to describe everything that I am blessed with in my life, okay, okay, except for that one time when I posted a status about how I was thankful for Gerard Butler - it seemed like very pertinent information. Actually, I think we all need to take an extra moment and appreciate him for gracing us all with his presence on the big screen.



Don't you just want to hold his hand and ask him what he is thinking about...
Oh, no - just me, then?

Ahhh, okay, I am much better; you all are so very welcome, except you, Adam - I am sorry you had to see that. Anyways, back to being thankful. When I would walk around my hometown, I could tell that everyone feels as though they know everything about me, which is typical of a small town. Each of their faces smiled with warmth and joy, but I could see it when they turned to walk away; their faces sunk. "That poor girl...she has nothing left in her life. No where to go, and no one to take care of her." (Yes, that is actually a direct quote. It's funny how people walk away from me after giving me a hug at the grocery store and think I am completely deaf or something, psssh - this girl has ears like a wolf). For a while after I lost my parents, I almost believed them...and sometimes still today, I almost let them win.

Little do they know, though, I have more to live for than they ever imagined. I like to look at my coffee cup half full, though, because I know that God has blessed me with waaaay more than I deserve. It's time to get started on this wonderful list of thankfulness! I feel like Santa Claus right now, except my list isn't full of naughty and nice chitlins. Well, depends on the way you look at it.



Isn't she cute as a button...nope, definitely cuter!

First and foremost, I am so thankful for my Grandma! Oh my gosh - she is the most precious person to be placed on this planet. It wasn't until after my mom passed that she started calling me and asking me about my life. I remember one particular phone call like it was literally yesterday. I was sitting on the couch in my dorm room; I had literally been looking out of the living room window for over an hour just wondering how I could fix my life. Then my phone rang. Now, just to let you all know, I went through this phase last year where I didn't answer any phone calls from people because I didn't want to hear their pitiful voices when they heard mine, and I really didn't want to hear them say the words "how are you doing"? But when my phone lit up with "Inge Coburn" displayed across the screen, I didn't think twice about hitting the accept button. She started telling me about a show she watched that day, and how it made her laugh for the very first time since the funeral. The stories she continued to tell me were ones that you would possibly place in your diary right before bed, recapping everything you had done that day. Most would've been bored with this kind of conversation, but me? This was the very first time I had forgotten about the loss of my mother, loss of all my sweet dogs, and the upcoming loss of my perfect house. After she told me about her day, she ended the conversation by saying, "Hay-leey, I know youh can du any-ting you wan-ta du. I loveh you-h, dah-ling." Then, she hung up - FYI, I have never in all of my 19 years heard her say "goodbye" at the end of a phone conversation. At that moment, though, she left me feeling like I could be someone. Her love didn't end there, though. This past summer, I had my wisdom teeth removed. As most of you know, this is no big deal. The oral surgeon I went do literally does this procedure at least 20 times per day. I was his very first patient on that incredibly early Monday morning, shaking and smiling in his operating chair. Now, as I said in my blog This Is A Part Of Me That You're Never Gonna Ever Take Away From Me - NO! (http://haleydmoody.blogspot.com/2012/06/this-is-part-of-me-that-youre-never.html), this whole day was quite a blur for me, and the liquid Loritab really didn't help my memory in any way. There is one thing I do remember: waking up hours later to three missed calls and two voicemails from my sweet, German Grandma. I am pretty sure she misunderstood our phone conversation from the previous day and thought I was going in to have massive surgery or something another. Poor thing was worried if I was still alive and couldn't get a hold of anyone to tell her. I do remember trying to call her back, but the inside of my mouth was so swollen that all I could do was drool all over my phone. She giggled and said "I loveh you-h, Hay-leey" and we hung up. Really that's all I needed in this crazy world, but my blessings didn't stop there.

We are two peas in a very adorable pod!
I mean, LOOK AT US! Doesn't get any more adorable than this.

 Continuing on this thankful train, I have so many families who have taken me under their wings whenever I decide to travel "abroad" and need somewhere to lay my head at night. Now when I say families, I literally mean that when I fill out important forms and such, I put each and every single one of you guys as my "mother", "father", "aunt" or "uncle". It's always humorous when I turn in these documents and there are like 28 different sets of family members written down - the receptionist always says, "Ma'am, we only need your biological parents on this form." I smile and point at each of the names while saying, "oh, yes ma'am - I wrote each and every single one of them down for you! Don't ask how the birthing process went - it's a rather..ugh..interesting and long story." Before I get started, I just want each and every one of y'all to know that this is very very brief. I decided not to start off with the whole "she changed my diapers many times while I was a kid" story line. No, no one needs to know about all of that. This is just a list of people and their stories, dun dun dun, that stick out in my exhausted mind, so trust me when I say, the experiences and memories attached to all of my families are endless. I am going to start off with my dear, sweet, Strong family. Last year, I don't remember spending many weekends in my dorm because I was spending them all at their house and in their beds! Mama Cindee and Papa Bill always had baked potato soup on the stove and fruit punch in the fridge for when I arrived, which my tummy still thanks you both for that. After we finished eating, we would always sit on the couch and talk about life and listen to Papa Bill tell all of his "when I was younger" stories, which are literally my favorite. While traveling around and about our small town, people would walk up and say hello to Mama Cindee, in which she would proceed to say, "this is my daughter, Haley." It was nice to hear those words again. When times in the real world would get overwhelming, I always knew where I belonged, which was with them. My second family, the Williamsons, are nothing short of amazing. After my mother passed away, Mr. Alan would call me while he was on the road, talking to me about his rockin-hott wife (you better get it, Mrs. Paula), and making sure I was eating and studying like I should. Each and every time I busted through the doors at their beautiful home, they all gave me the warmest hugs, then we proceeded to continue with life, such as attending the most hilarious zumba parties, as if we had never parted our ways. Mrs. Paula is basically one of the girls - I can sit and talk with her for hours about boy issues and girl drama, and she simply listens and helps me work through it all. Oh, and mister Andrew - he brightens my life. Last year, I remember recieving one particular text message from him that literally made me fall on the floor...and I was in Ulta. To make a long story short, he basically told me that he and I were gonna get married - he is definitely a little version of Mr. Alan! Of course, I can't forget my crazy Crigger family. This is the house you definitely want to be at during the holidays - there is just nothing else like it. When I walk in the doors, the view I see is nothing less than amazing! And I am not just talking about the beautiful decorations, either; I am talking about their family. They are so loving, and so welcoming towards anyone who enters their door, and they know exactly how to rekindle your lost smile...even if one of their kids had just happened to get out of the hospital, which was often the case. My other lovely family, the Locklier's, hold a special place in my heart, too. Ever since I was a young girl, and they lived close to me on Stanford road, I have been attending tea parties at their house. As the years passed, the tea became less frequent until this year, in which it was much sweeter than I remembered. A few days after I had my wisdom teeth removed, their daughter and our other friend, traveled to Tuscaloosa to kidnap me and bring me back to Andalusia. Let me just tell you, when I arrived, Mrs. Lisa and Mr. Jim went out of their way to make me a special dinner of the most wonderful mashed potatoes and the softest macaroni and cheese just so I didn't kill myself trying to chew. Ever since I was little, and still to this day, when I leave their house, Mr. Jim puts his arm around my neck and tells me how much him and his wife both love me and are so very proud of me. Another special place in my heart is filled with the love from the Jones family, who are the claimers to my other kidnapper from that very same weekend. Ms. Liz always knows how to take care of me, though. When all four of us "Bama bound" ladies moved away from home for the first time, she made us all decorations and house warming goodies to make us feel less like we were on our own and more like we were just taking a little bit of an "educated" vacation. This lovely lady is extra crafty, though, especially considering she has a special room out back dedicated to her sewing, which I will soon be enjoying with her while she teaches me the craft of "learning to hem and fix jeans". She definitely keeps me on my toes by sending me all kinds of messages about how to avoid being kidnapped and such - I do believe she forgets to send those kind of emails to her daughter, though. But every single time I leave her house to travel back to the great land of Tuscaloosa, she always reminds me to text her when I arrive safely. That is a special kind of love. There is one particular family that I can't and won't ever forget - the Zelensky's. Although they are newest to my tree, they still hold a hefty size of my heart. The very first time I met Mrs. Linda, I was scared beyond belief, and the 30 minute drive to their house didn't help one bit. But once I got there, she gave me a massive hug before I could finish introducing myself - It was love at first site, I tell yah. Just a few short weeks after, I remember leaving their house on the fourth of July and seeing my phone light up in my cup holder. The number was unknown, but it didn't take me long to figure the out the sender. This one text message forced me to tears and to pull off of the road: "I feel like I have known you all my life. You are an incredible young woman. I love you sweetie." Those precious words filled my head and overwhelmed my heart. Also after I had my wisdom teeth removed, their family did everything possible to take care of me, especially since I had just discovered that I had two dry sockets. Ever since that day, both Mr. and Mrs. Zelensky have sent me the most encouraging letters that I have officially posted on my wall to read when times get hard. Lucky for me, they always open their doors for me when I get overwhelmed with life and need to escape reality. Plus, they have a KILLER view of the nights sky in their backyard. It reminds me of home. Finally, I can't forget my Pughs, and yes, I mean all of them. Ms. Pugh-Ann has been in my life ever since I can remember, and her spunk has kept these past few years ones worth remembering. In October of this year, she came up to spend time with all of us, and mostly to go watch Finding Nemo in 3D. The song "Want U Back" came on and I remember looking over to find Ms. Pugh dancing better than I had ever seen anyone dance before in all of my nineteen years. When she walks into a room, the whole place lights up, I can promise you that. Mr. Mark and Mrs. Karen, though, are both new additions to my life. I met them for the first time at a football game last year; ever since that day, I have spent atleast two weekends a month with them. Mr. Mark has some of the most interesting stories about the University of Alabama and how different it is from when he was here. He tells me this one story every single time - something about a computer that was the size of a room and how nowadays, we have atleast twenty per room, ahaha! They are the sweetest, though, for always making sure I eat three meals a day...and never leaving me without a tummy ache from laughing so hard.

 

 

 
 

 
 

 

 

 

 

Like I said, that was a very long-ish, brief version of my wonderful family members. There are so many stories that I had to leave out, though. For example, I thought long and hard about adding a memory from my 9th grade year. I was heading to a football game with my sister Devin Williamson and her wonderful family. Roadtrips with them are always, always, always eventful. Mr. Alan so kindly stopped at a gas station because we all know about my bladder, and as I got out he screamed, "Haley - you are rockin' that college body, giiiirl!" People looked at him like he was our pimp and we were the fantasy cheerleaders ready to take on the street corners. BUT - I decided not to add that story in because, well, there's no reason to bring that back up, right? :) Ahahahahahahahahah - that story really does get me every single time!

 

 

 

In addition to my previous array of family members, I have one more that I desperately need to bring up. This summer, I worked most days at the Action Card office, so the whole "staying in Andalusia and driving back for work" thing wasn't really going to work out. My Aunt Patty and Uncle Jeff were kind enough to open their arms and upstairs bedroom for me that whole summer. Before school was out, I was so incredibly nervous - I had become a rather "independent" person, doing my own thing, purchasing my own goodies, and going places without letting anyone know...listen, I am a wild pony, okay? But I knew everything was going to change once I moved in, and I wasn't sure if they were going to enjoy me being there or not. This past summer was one of the best ones I had had in a while. I felt like their child, just with a completely different last name. We all sat down for dinner every night around six, discussing our lives and our to-do lists, which is something I hadn't done in a very long time. On the days when my sun wasn't as bright as usual, they surrounded me with their love, reminding me that the little things aren't worth stressing over...which also helped me create mine and Tracey's new saying "can't worry about the little things", ahaha. I love every little thing about my Benton family, and I am so thankful that they allowed me to move in with them for two and half months...because honestly I wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else. 

 

This blog has been four months in the making! I also want to say how very thankful I am for all of my friends, old and new - I know we all don't have time like we used to, but I am so thankful for the moments we remember to tell eachother we love one another or even just to say "Oh Lord Jesus - it's a Fahr"...ahahahaa! You know who you are!

 

In the next few weeks, I will be posting blogs back from Decemeber that I never completed but I have been wanting to share...so get ready for a party! Also, I have some superduperawesometastic news that I can't wait to tell you all! So here's to finding time to blog again so you all will know my secrets! *Clinging of glasses*

 

 

Have a wonderful hump day, everyone! Don't forget

"Y'all, are, my shining stars - so don't y'all go away!"

 

Love Always,

Haley

 

 

"And if I can last twenty rounds

There's no reason you should ever have your head down.
Five foot seven, five hundred and twenty pounds
Hailing from rock bottom, loserville, nothing town"

The Fighter (Haley's Remix) - Gym Class Heros

"The Worst Things In Life Come Free To Us"

Since starting my job at the Action Card office, I have attained one particular skill that has really helped me get through the boring days: people watching. As we all know, if you don't use your skills, you are gonna lose them, so I have taken this one particular skill out of the office and into the world. After doing some serious "people watching" on Alabama's campus, I have discovered some very...uh...interesting things that I really want to share. For example, I had an experience on my way to math this morning that will excite each and every one of you lovely ladies. Ready?

I was listening to my lovely ole iPod, enjoying the wonderful tunes and enjoying the beyond wonderful weather. To me, its a good day when I can walk to class without sweating and my hair looking like I took a huge can of Crisco and went to town on it. Yes, I know the movie The Help says to use Crisco on absolutely everything, but I am gonna have to disagree with its use on this one particular thing.

This man knows how to do the dang thing...props, homeboy!
"Work that up-do; OWN THAT UP-DO!"

Anyways, the wind was blowing my newly washed locks, which my bangs never seem to appreciate as much as the rest of me - I am all about working the "model look" without having to work hard for it. The sky was full of beautiful clouds that were every color of blue mixed with a hint of light purple and baby pink.  At that moment, I considered skipping my math class just so I could absorb more of this beautiful atmosphere, but I remembered we were reviewing for our test on Thursday. I mean, seriously - what is more important? Math or God's masterpiece? I knew the answer, but I also knew that Megan would not appreciate me pulling out the ole "hookey" routine without informing her. I mean clearly the answer to that previous question was the second option.

Just as I looked in front of me, a guy was randomly hiking up his right leg as if he was getting ready to punt a football forty yards into the field goal. Right as I was about to cover all of my lady parts and my noggin, I quickly had to transfer my hands to my mouth because I could feel my Special K cereal rising from down under. What I saw was him grabbing his "man business", you know, the one located underneath his blue jean zipper. Without thinking, I my lips began screaming, "WHOAHHHHHH"! Quickly, everyone's attention found me like I was the hot pink crayon in a tub of only white. Luckily, I was listening to "Unwritten" by Natasha Bedingfield, and at the very same part where I screamed whoah, she began singing the exact same word. So I closed my eyes and threw my arms out by my side making gestures similar to that man off of Bring it On, you remember - SPIRIT FINGERS, then I sang "RELEASE YOUR INHIBITIONS! FEEEEEEEL THE RAIN ON YOUR SKIN" as loud as my lungs would allow. I quickly picked my dignity off of the ground and power-housed into Lloyd Hall. Sorry China...hope I didn't cause any natural disasters over there because of my voice, but in my defense, it was all mister punter's fault - he caused a huge natural disaster in my already faulty vision. I'm officially afraid to open my eyes anymore! Who knows what my innocent little eyes will land on next time!

Well, I am so glad that I was able to share my wonderful experience of the day with you all. I guess it's time for me to stop procrastinating and time for me to finish my paper and study for my two tests - YEEHAW BUCKAROOOOOO! I can't believe that next week is already dead week.WAIT - HOLY JAMA LLAMA...ITS ALMOST CHRISTMAS! I suppose that means its time to whip out the ole Christmas tunes, right? :)

All I want for Christmas is yooooooou, baaaby!

Anywho, as finals week creeps up on all of us, I want everyone to remember this special little quote of mine:

"When life starts getting too stressful, that means it's time to take a nap!"

Good luck on all of your exams! In the words of Patty Benton: "Don't worry about it - they are just little tests and will soon be all over!"

 Love Always,
Haley
 
"And they say,
She's in the Class A Team,
Stuck in her daydream;
Been this way since 18.
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting;
Crumbling like pastries.
And they scream
The worst things in life come free to us.
Cause we're just under the upper hand,
And go mad for a couple of grams.
And she don't want to go outside tonight.
The A Team - Ed Sheeran

This Road I'm On Is Going To Turn To Sand...

Hello, beautiful people!

Before I started this semester, a certain mama Cindee of mine said that she desperately wanted to hear some of the things I wrote in my creative writing class. Being the elephant that I am, (this is not entirely a fat joke about myself, I was just saying that means I never forget,) I decided to dedicate a blog about a little something, something that I hope you all enjoy.

A few weeks ago, my Creative Writing instructor/ graduate student/ el-teacher took us to the museum on campus for inspiration to write. I, being the introvert that I am, was incredibly nervous about this particular quest. I hate reading my stuff aloud because the other eleven people that are in my class are all seniors who have taken every blasted English Class, and lets just say that they pretty much have all their crapola together. Me, I am always sitting in the corner like, "yeah, man. I wrote something as hardcore as that, but I just don't want to share it and have all you lovely people steal it." Most of the time, I just write about Taylor Swift or all the homework I have to do when I go home. This day was surprisingly different.

After entering the museum, I noticed that each and every painting on the wall was abstract, all using three main colors : red, blue, and yellow. Some of these paintings included circles, other included squares, and some...yeah, I couldn't even figure those bad boys out.

This is similar to what was covering the walls.
That's exactly what I was thinking!
How on Earth are you supposed to write something deep about this?

I tried with every might of my being to get away from these overly boring paintings. I entered rooms, exited other ones. After five minutes of running away like Alice in her Wonderland, I finally plopped down infront of a painting similar to the one above. After putting my headphones in and staring at this massive piece of art, my pencil finally found it's way.

10/18/12 (Don't worry, this isn't the title...actually, I couldn't figure one out, so yes, this is the title.)

Here I am, yet another day, just hanging out. People walk in, cock their heads to the left, then to the right. After five minutes of their heads replicating the motion of a see-saw, they straighten their bodies and smile, as if they knew every single detail about me. Some whisper, "Ohhhh, she painted triangles for kicks and giggles or just so she could meet her deadline." No. My maker created me for particular reasons that only I can try to describe. With every stroke of my becoming, a tear fell from her beautifully rounded chin. She could've painted boxes or maybe even smooth circles, but instead, she chose the sharp edges of a triangle, because those were the only ones that matched the stabbing pains in her heart. My triangles points may be sharp, but the edges are rather smuged and less defined; I think it had something to do with the fact that she felt like she had lost her identity the night before. Finally, she stood up and looked at me, similar to the people who now come to view me. There was something different about the way she stared at me, though. She looked, not with any smug "know-it-all" facial expressions, but with saddness in her eyes. She described her pain perfectly by creating me, and now, instead of forgetting her feelings, they were staring back at her. She went to grab the brushes she recently placed in a cup full of water. With one flick of the wrist, she splattered little paint drops across the triangles, finally allowing me to cry with her.

When it came time for us to read our writings aloud, for the first time I had the confidence to raise my hand first. Like I said before, I am an introvert, so when my hand went high, it was shaking in the process. Sadly, another student raised her hand at the very same time, so being the sweet southerner that I am, I allowed her to go and I took the liberty of going second. When my time came, I took a deep breath and let the words on my page flow. After I finished reading, I looked up to find everyones eyes were on me. I began nervously laughing...I should really get that checked out or atleast under control, sheesh. Suddenly, three or four of my classmates began saying how much they loved it! One girl on the front was like, "Oh my gosh! That's so awesome! People don't usually think that deep into the behind the scenes work of paintings. They look at abstract stuff and think booooooooring. That's so cool that you didn't." At that moment, I began nervously laughing again because I totally did think that...at first. (Sorry wonderful paintings in the Art Museum. It was 9:30 in the morning and I was minus caffeine.)


I hope you all enjoyed a little snit-bit of my work. Aha, I say that like I am going professional, or like I am dadgum Nicholas Sparks or something. Maybe someday...WAIT! That almost sounded like I was saying I wanted to be a man like Nicholas Sparks! No, no no! I was totally talking about being a super writer like him! Oh, that's what y'all were thinking, too? Wshoo, good!

I hope you all have a maaaaarvelous week! Remember: you gotta sleep or you will end up as looney as me! OH SNAP- STORY TIME! Earlier this morning, I was just sitting at work studying a little for my journalism test on Friday. All of a sudden, a caught myself looking for my seatbelt, as if I were in a car or something! Oh my gosh, how embarrassing! Once I noticed what I was doing, I quickly pretended like I was looking for my hair tie then screamed "FOUND IT!" Everyone looked at me like, "umm...good for you?" Ahaha...my life.


Anyways...

TWO MORE WEEKS UNTIL THANKSGIVING!

"Well this road I'm on's gonna turn to sand;
And leave me lost in a far off land.
So let me ride the wind til I don't look back,
Forget the life that I almost had.
If I wander til I die.
May I know who's hand I'm in.
If my home I'll never find;
And let me live again."

The Longer I Run by Peter Bradley Adams

For those who just need a laugh, here yah go. Ps - I am marrying Ethan. Just FYI...

"Give Me One More Chance To Save Me From This Road I'm On"

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon. The sun was peaking over the clouds, shining my three favorite colors : pink, yellow, and orange. I stopped at the end of the road so that I could find my Katy Perry CD in my disk holder. I knew exactly how I needed to start this three hour road trip, which was blasting "Teenage Dream". This particular song always reminds me of my best friend, Callie-Marie Crigger, and my car. When we would go anywhere during my senior year, this song would be at the very top of our "must hear" playlist. Once this song began playing, we would both throw our arms out of the windows, repeatedly making hearts with our hands. This time was no different except I was missing my best friend.

There is never a dull moment when we are together..."like, ever". Yes, I just pulled a Taylor Swift.

As the music began flowing, I pressed Tuscaloosa on my GPS and took a left turn. Usually, the Australian speaking man in my Garmin asks me to turn right, but for some weird reason, he politely asked me to turn left. I am always up for an adventure, so, I proudly accepted his request.

After only a minute of driving this new direction, the sweet man asked me to take a right on a very country road. I am particularly fond of these types of roads, because they always seem to remind me of my childhood. Farms, pecan collecting, and endless acres of land. This particular road had more twists and turns than the usual country-esque roads I had taken prior to this moment, making Maxi overly excited.

A few weeks before, I had her four legs (tires) aligned and her oil changed by the Nissan dealership that was close to my apartment. That very next day, my tire actually popped because they had done such a miserable job. Maxi is now doing much better, but she still happens to veer to the right whenever she has the opportunity. On this particular country road, she had many opportunities.

Suddenly, the song "Last Friday Night" began blasting through my speakers, startling me a little bit. I lost focus from the road long enough to nearly change my life forever. Before crossing over a small bridge, there was a gap between the actual road and the bridge, that Maxi's tire found. This flaw allowed her to drastically veer to the right...nearly making me drive completely off the bridge and into the groggy waters below. Instead of slamming on my breaks, I tried yanking my car left, back on to the road; to me, pressing the breaks would've had the same ending result as if I hadn't...and I didn't like the mental image I was seeing. Maxi sure didn't like the decision I had made, though, because for a few seconds, she and I were teetering on two wheels. Once she found her way, we began swerving on the road, leaving a black snake-like trail in the rear view mirror. The only thought that was rushing through my head was, "please, God, don't let my poor puppy get hurt." I finally re-gained control over my rebellious car, allowing me to completely stop and grab on to Maggie. I looked out of my window at the black marks I had left on the road...remembering that I was in the middle of no where, and if I had been laying on the ground bleeding from every opening in my head, no one would hear me cry, or even know that something had happened to me. I am a female, which means I start picturing all of the "what if's" before remembering that everything is actually okay. I then gently placed Maggie in the backseat, because like a mother, I didn't want my child to see me cry.

At that moment, I was reminded how precious this life really is. I am so thankful for the wonderful people who take part in my life, dusting me off when it's not so perfect, and walking by my side when it actually is...and I am not going to wait around anymore for those who don't have the time for me, period. At 4:06, Sunday afternoon, I sat in my shiny, silver car, and I saw every single person I that love simply flash before my eyes...but I was given a second chance, thanks be to God.

She is still looking beautiful as ever...gosh, shes so lucky. She becomes prettier with age, and me? I keep finding more wrinkles.

Tonight, I made it to my self defense class, without any life-changing experiences, and listened to my teacher talk about guns and people being killed by them. At the end of his long speech, he said "you may lose your life", almost as if your life was a pearl earring that didn't have a match, or your favorite wedge heal that didn't have his "left" partner. "Lost" your life...like if it was found, everything would be back to normal again. After hearing this sentence, I thought about my Sunday drive. To him, I almost "lost" my life, but to me, I almost lost everything I ever loved.

I love you all deeply. Always wear your seat belts, and never listen to your Garmin...no matter how dreamy his voice sounds! Good luck on any tests you have this week. In the voice of Rob Schneider from The Waterboy, "you can do it!"

"I'm sorry for the way,
I've been living my life.
I know I've got to change,
So from now on tonight."

Jesus, Take the Wheel - Carrie Underwood
(You're welcome, Anna)

Love always (and forever),
Haley

I Can Never Be Brave, 'Cause You Make My Heart Race

Hey there, Young Patawons!

I am finally two weeks deep into my Sophomore year of college, and let me just tell you...it has taken me on a whirlwind! Literally, I couldn't get my apartment door opened the other day, when suddenly, a lady opened the door saying, "I don't think you have the right apartment, sweetie." Sure enough - I wasn't even on the right floor, but that is a different story. A few days ago, I had my creative writing class...by the way, this class isn't exactly what I expected it to be. When you think "Creative Writing", you probably think like I did - that I was going to be writing creatively! Well, I was totally wrong...until that day. Ohhhh, the suspence. ;)
This class starts at exactly 9:30, which means I have to get up at 7:30...okay, truthfully, it ends up being 7:45...just so that I can make it to my building in time. I have to walk thirty minutes from my parking spot just to get to Morgan Hall. By the way, I officially have the most disgusting, and permanent, blisters...okay, okay - sorry about that visual. ANYWAYS, this morning, our GA (Graduate Assistant...yes, not a teacher) walked in with a pack of paper and thirteen-ish small-sized pieces of paper, similar to napkins. First thing I thought was, "OH MY GOSH - am I REALLY reading more bologna for this WRITING CLASS? Please don't tell me that I am the only one questioning why I am not writing anything?" After she passed around the packs of paper, I looked at the very top of the sheet and it said something about a napkin project. I was concerned if I was going to be cleaning something...or making someone blow their nose...during this hour and fifteen minute class. Truthfully, anything was possible with this lady. I mean, so far we had been doing everything in the book besides write for it! Thankfully, our teacher, excuse me, graduate assistant, is full of surprises.

After handing us all a small piece of paper, she then told us that she wanted us to write something on it.
"It can be three sentences, a poem, a story that runs front and back. You can even write "HI" in 72 font. Just allow your imagination to run free." For some crazy reason, I knew exactly what I wanted to write about. She gave us ten minutes to gather our thoughts and turn them into something legible. Once everyone finished...she ordered us to write another story, but this time, she gave us a sheet of rules then set us loose to travel around Morgan Hall. Now, I had no idea what I was doing during this time. The story I had written was complete CRAPOLA! Ha- I can't write perfection on command, I mean, who do I look like? Taylor Swift?...

After 20 minutes passed, we were all asked to come back in the classroom. Suddenly, she said she wanted us all to read something we wrote today. My heart COMPLETELY hit the floor and rolled down the air-vent under my chair. I absolutely positively do not like to talk infront of people. I get all clammy and start breathing heavy...someone would've thought that I was just sentenced to death or something. One after another, people read their perfect stories, which made me question mine each and every time.

The first girl wrote this creative story about a dog..and a boy. It was adorable.
My thoughts: "CRAP...that was really good."

Another girl read a story about a pair of twins...and it was INCREDIBLY good!
My thoughts: "CRAP CRAP! That was super freaking good!"

One after another, everyones story was so beyond incredible that they made mine shrivel up like an old raisen. I kept looking at the clock, noticing it was almost time to leave. Crossing my fingers and toes, I said a quick prayer begging for the time to run up before I had to read my mini story. Before I could finish my prayer, I heard, "Haley! We haven't heard from you yet! Read us one of your creations."

crap...

After taking a deep breath, I picked up my wanna-be napkin and began reading.

*WARNING - The orignial version of this story that I wrote in class was misplaced when I traveled tp Andalusia a few weekends ago. I tried really hard to dig deep and remember...I promise I tried.*

"The Last Day by Haley Moody"
I sat calmly at my desk, simply wondering why on earth I wanted the penthouse office of this building. As my co-workers scurried around the office calling their loved ones, I looked at my desk calendar and noticed the date that was circled for this weekend: my wedding. My soon to be husband, who was calling me at this particular time, was most likely standing outside this building praying that I was late for work again this morning, considering that was my usual story. Oddly enough, I was actually sitting in this desk before most of the other workers made it to the tiny elevator and began their long journey north. I arrived early for one reason: to finalize the order for my pink peonies, which were the flowers I had wanted to hold on this particular day since I was a little girl. After looking up from my desk, I noticed my assistant, who was also one of my bridesmaids, standing at the window seal, looking down at the innocent bystanders. Before I knew it, she took a leap of faith. I walked over to the very same window and noticed the floors below me in flames. I then blew a final kiss to my almost husband before becoming part of the ashes that covered New York City."

On a completely unrelated note,
this will be my wedding bouquet when I get married,  just FYI to everyone!

After I finished the last sentence, I placed my piece of paper back infront of me before looking up at the rest of the group. I randomly began nervously laughing, and then I made eye contact with my teacher, I mean GRADUATE STUDENT, while saying, "Ahahaa, sorry - I was watching something on 9/11 the other day and it inspired me..." Then I noticed the guy next to me...wait, let me just tell you a little about him. On the first day, we had to play this game called Skeleton, where everyone takes a piece of paper and writes a sentence at the very top, then passes their paper to the person on their left. After that person writes something after your sentence, that same person folds the sentence that the person before them wrote so that the next person they pass it to will only see the sentence that was just previously written. Confused yet? Well, don't worry - that isn't the important part. This guy that I was talking about, he was the person to my right, so he was passing me his pieces of paper. Now, just for visiual effect, he is basically like a skinny version of Heath Ledger from the movie 10 Things I Hate About You, except this guy is incredibly monotoned. At first, he started writing things that I definitely didn't even understand...using words that were about 17 years long, and definitely had to be in French or Swahili...so, I just wung it. AFTER THAT, he started writing things such as "U2"...then passed it to me...! I was like...WHAT ARE YOU DOING, TIDDLYWINK! Nothing he ever wrote down ever made a lick of sense, but I had to make some kind of sense out of it, because at the end...it was supposed to be a story, and we had to freaking read it aloud like everything else in that class. BLAH. So basically, he and I didn't get off to a very good start. Well, actually we kinda did. ALSO ON THE VERY FIRST DAY BEFORE ANY OF THAT^ HAPPENED, I walked in, tried to sit down, then suddenly my water bottle completely fell out of my backpack. He very kindly picked it up and handed it to me...but after that moment, it all went downhill. ANWYAYS, back to the originial point. When I looked up at my teacher, I noticed that same guy, the one who never smiled and always seemed like he was quietly critiquing everyone elses work, smiling at me. I actually think he liked my story! That right there...that made me feel very accomplished in my life.



No joke - their hair is exactly the same and the guy in my class literally sits like this everyday...like a creeper!
I almost called him Heath the other day...ahaha, wshoo - I'm a hoot!

 Other than that, so far, school has been alright this semester. I have been getting the bare minimum when it comes to hours of sleep at night - I told you I tried to open someone elses door the other day! Well, atleast I met another person in my apartment...who now probably thinks I am a ditz! But, if you ask me next week, I may have a different response; I have four tests in three days. UGH! Strong and independent woman, right?



Chris Brooks: "Share the Cupcake"
My thoughts: SHARE IT WITH WILLS FACE!
Hmmm, maybe Chris didn't mean it like that...oh well :)
Dang...I look skinny in this picture - RIGHT ON!



Our faces have been getting the best treatment possible.
Oh, and no, I didn't intentionally mean to bite/eat Megan...
She just looked like a delicious blueberry!!!

 I hope you all have been having a wonderful semester so far! I just want to leave you all with the words that I tell myself everyday - "never settle for anything that doesn't make you happy - no matter if it's people who you thought were your best friends or simply just the career you thought you wanted to be the rest of your life."

Love Always,
Haley

"Somethin's gotta give now,
Cause I'm dying just to make you see.
That I need you here with me now;
Cause you've got that one thing."

One Thing - One Direction