Those lovely ladies in the picture above have been my best friends since birth. Since we live across the Interstate from each other, and we all like to write, we decided to start a 4-way blog to keep in touch. I think it's an awesome project. We used to write letters back and forth, but then our lives got too busy. We created our blog -called Our Thoughts Are Stars- as a more convenient way to talk to each other almost every day. So, if you have any interest in our lives (which, if you aren't one of our mothers, I assume you don't) feel free to check it out. I write every Monday (hey that's today!) but Grace, Mercy, and Rose's writing styles are pretty phenomenal. Here is the link to Our Thoughts Are Stars. I hope you enjoy it and aren't repulsed by our fangirl rants about the moral decadence of society. Well, this post is really short for once. I have been immensely busy with this life I love and the way everything is suddenly changing, like leaves on trees in October. Some days I hate everyone and everything and want to curl up in bed and avoid this world, which often seems to turn against me. Most days are good, though- I get better at dealing; I am becoming thicker-skinned I think. So I suppose I'm doing okay, all things considered. ANYWAY, I have to end this now before it stops being a short post (also, I have a life that must be lived). --Laura :)
Sunday, September 15, 2013
I want all of these sweaters.
If you know me inside and out, you probably knew this post was coming. I love fall. It's as simple as that. I'm basically your typical suburban white girl- I pull out my oversized sweaters in mid-September and eat and drink anything with the words "pumpkin spice" in the title. The leaves haven't changed much and I'm already in Autumn Mode, anticipating the coming months like a kid waiting for Christmas morning. I don't even know where to begin. That's how bad it is. I can promise you now that this post is probably going to be a bit long and rambling and disorganized, but that's how I think, so I implore you to bear with me. I love fall. I love sweater weather and pumpkin flavored everything and the heart aching beauty of early sunsets. I love big, bright leaf piles and the sound of leaves rustling underfoot. I love apple-picking in October (a family tradition) and eating fresh apples that make those wrinkly ones they sell at Stop & Shop taste like styrofoam. This is the only season that makes me really happy to be a New England girl. I may hate humidity in the summer, and neverending winter, but driving down tree-lined roads in the fall makes me forget any resentment I may hold to this part of the country. I confess that I am somewhat of a nature freak. I get this from my dad -rightly dubbed The Tree Guy by his loving children- who would rather be outside than anywhere else. From him I learned to appreciate forests and green grass and tiny flowers with long Latin names. I love going on long walks in November, just to look at the everchanging landscape of my neighborhood. Something about bright orange trees against deeply serious, cloudy skies makes me feel okay, no matter what mood I'm in. Looking at the beauty of nature in autumn fills me with joy and praise to the God who created the amazing color scheme of this season. Another thing I love about this time of year is how poetic and meaningful it can be. This may sound cheesy, but I'm going to say what I think, since this is my blog after all: fall is the season of change. Beautiful, happy change. And to me, that proves that different things can be lovely. We need not be afraid of change if beautiful things come from the change in the fall. Most of the time I'm scared of things ever being different; I hold on too much when I should be letting go. But why am I terrified when there are trees bared and lovely, and pumpkins to be picked, and Halloween carnivals on crisp evenings, all because of a season of change? I love this time of year yet I dread the idea of new things happening in my own life. Maybe I have a lesson to be learned from fall. It's not all about hay rides and not wanting to get out of bed in the morning because you are beyond comfortable and warm under the blankets. It's about accepting new and different experiences for what they really are- beautiful adventures. I like being young enough to learn lessons like that and not regret the time I wasted not knowing so many great and profound things.Well, I regret some things, like stuff I've said in front of my mother, and wardrobe choices I made in the seventh grade. Buuuut that has nothing to do with what I've been talking about, and now I'm rambling. I told you I would. I'm a very predictable person. Anyway, I hope y'all have a lovely fall, and take lots of pictures, and drink too much hot apple cider. Oh, and promise me you won't wear one of those skanky girl's Halloween costumes if you go trick-or-treating. Not only are those outfits degrading, you'll also probably freeze your rear end off. How impractical! --Laura :)
I start my senior year of high school this coming Tuesday. I had to type that in order to believe it. Now, with those words boldly staring back at me on my fingerprint-smudged computer screen, it is starting to sink in. I knew this was coming and I ardently ignored the signs. Nearly all of my friends started school this week; my Facebook news feed has since been clogged with pictures and statuses about fresh starts and uniforms and inevitably huge amounts of homework. All my books are piled neatly on the bottom shelf of the bookcase by the front door (a blessedly smaller pile than last year's). On a drive the other day I noticed some of the trees lining the highway were turning gold, and it's not even September yet. Why have I had such a hard time letting go of summer? Because, to be honest, I don't want to grow up. I am a Peter Pan, avoiding adulthood like the plague for fear of careers and business clothes and responsibility. Yeah, I'm immature. I can shamelessly say that, and my closest friends would quickly agree. I'm a child at heart. I have the inherent ability to be the totally mature, confident young woman that some people admire and trust, yet at the same time, just under the surface, I'm the 6-year-old with an awkward sense of style and messy hair. My idea of getting dressed on days when I don't leave the house is putting on another pair of pajamas or sweats. I intentionally mismatch my socks. I watch Disney movies and sing along to every song (but come on, what girl doesn't know all the words to "A Whole New World" or "I'll Make A Man Out Of You?"). I put sprinkles on my pancakes and forget to brush my hair and consider it a capitol offense when my parents have the audacity to send me to bed early. I don't know why Mom and Dad think it's a wise idea to send me off to college next fall. Who knows how I'll survive guided by my own judgement? With no one to help me cook something -anything- without poisoning the food? No one to tell me to take one or two Tylenol when I'm under the weather? Not having to make my own decisions for seventeen and a half years has been great, but it certainly has not prepared me for The Real World. In all honesty, I love knowing I can still act like a kid and get away with it. I think I still look younger than I am. Being brought up as one of the younger kids in a big family, I spent a lot of time with my little brother and sister (who aren't really little anymore- they're both taller than me). I don't mind. I excuse myself by saying I'm soaking up as much immaturity and whining as I can before I officially become a grown-up and have to act my age. Might as well get it all out of my system now, before crossing the barrier into Adulthood. Well, that's my philosophy. A lot of people might disagree with that, and you know how I would handle them? Probably by sticking out my tongue and laughing maniacally and skipping away. Unleashing my inner 6-year-old is my favorite comeback. Of course, there are possibly people who think I'm a mature, well-raised young lady and would deny everything I have said in this post. To them, I would most likely laugh and shake my head and say, with a smile, "if only you knew." --Laura
p.s, just in case you needed visual proof, here I am in Cookie Monster footy pajamas. Point and case.
It's amazing how fast this summer has gone by, like trees lining the highway. I haven't posted anything in a really long time- I should have after VBS at my church, and the unbelievable missions trip I went on to Boston, and when I got home from Cape Cod. But, I didn't, because I was afraid my words couldn't do justice to how changed I feel after those few short weeks. I learned a thousand lessons and ate several slices of humble pie and cried my eyes out a few times (being like, three times as emotional as I used to be is one way I'm different). I'm the same old Laura -the one who gets enraptured by Pride & Prejudice and bites her nails and thinks about working out more than she actually does- except my perspective has changed. I'm better at accepting myself and other people for who we are, which is huge for me. I'm learning to live as a reformed control freak. I learned that "facing fear, trusting God" isn't just a motto for vacation Bible school, it's the way a fraidy-cat like me should be living life. And when my brother beats me to the bathroom and I can't take a shower, I should stop and thank God, because I have a shower and a brother and some people don't have either. And sometimes you don't need a reason to cry, but other times you need to cry over insecurity and sad endings in books and kids with cancer. As young people, we get the message that we're supposed to have really high expectations for summertime. We're supposed to live with no regrets and say "YOLO" a lot and take candid pictures and have all sorts of adventures before the new school year begins. I know from experience that summer usually isn't all it's cracked up to be because we try too hard to make everything perfect. And, yeah, my summer was far from perfect this time around. But I think that was what made it real. And I'm honored and thankful for all the memories I now have, and the people who were with me on every journey and adventure and new experience. :) Now, it's almost fall- my all-time favorite time of year. I love the everchanging weather and the colors of nature, a constant reminder that there is a Designer who knows how to display His glory in creation. I love being able to wear sweaters again and getting a fresh start to a new school year (even though I'm totally burnt out by March, but come on, who isn't?). This fall is special, because it's my last one I get to experience at home. Next year, I'll be a college freshman- eighteen years old and out on my own, getting to know the world as much as possible beyond the four walls of a drafty dorm room. The universe of Adulthood is fast approaching, and I'm excited and sad and nervous because I still feel like a socially awkward 12-year-old with a bad haircut. I'm utterly unprepared. It's a funny thing when you talk and dream and worry about something, because once it happens, for all your planning you have no idea what to expect. Yet, for once I am not afraid. I know I'm not alone this time- I have a God who endlessly loves me, a supportive family, and some pretty amazing friends who will cheer me on no matter what. And I'm praying that whatever happens to me over the next year, it will prepare me as best as possible for that Great Perhaps lying just outside of my front door. --Laura :)
Summer is here, ladies and gents! For me, it rolled around after a stressful end to junior year and some unnaturally cold June weather. Now, it is precisely 81 degrees outside, and the fireflies are blinking under the trees in the front yard. Oh, and did I mention I am officially a senior in high school? It is now the beginning of the end, and I am both sad and excited about whatever God has in store for me over the next year. Actually, now that I think about it, I get even more excited and happy and proud of myself for making it this far. It's a funny feeling, but I love it all the same:) So far, this summer has been great. And I'm surprised. Last summer I spent too much time overthinking and moping and feeling sorry for myself, and I ruined practically the rest of the year because of the ghosts I let captivate my mind. So, when the last few weeks ended up being lovelier than I had imagined, and the weeks to come started to fill up with things to do, I was pleasantly surprised. I don't know. All of the sudden I'm just really thankful to be here now, doing what I'm doing, and enjoying the life God has blessed me with. It's still a struggle everyday. I have to drag my lackadaisical self out of bed every morning, and work really hard at Positive Thinking, something I have never been a star at doing. Sometimes my sisters drive me up a wall. I get into fights with my younger brother. My friends let me down, or I forget to be there for them. But you know what? That's life, my lovelies. It's usually kind of a letdown if you have unrealistic expectations for the people around you. The only person you should expect to be a superhero is yourself, I believe. But who knows? I'm still very young and inexperienced; I could be wrong. I'll most likely go out into The Big Bad World and make a thousand more mistakes, and (hopefully) learn from a few of them. The very thought of being out on my own someday scares the hell out of me, honestly, especially because that Someday is like, next year. I keep thinking, "I like where I am now. I don't want to change." But...God has a plan for me, and no matter what, I have to trust in his timing. Is that hard for me? Yeah. I'm kind of a control freak when it comes to my own life. But I am learning how to let go. I think I'll always be in a constant state of learning; I'll never fully understand everything about life until, ironically, I die. I can pretend all I want that I have it all figured out, but I honestly never will, which is somewhat of a relief. Anyway, I wanted to close this post with something my friend Grace wrote to me in a letter. I was rereading it this morning, and I was like "Oh my gosh, not only does Grace have a beautiful face, she's also a genius." so, here is the link to Grace's fantastic blog, the one that inspired me to start writing more, and here is what she wrote (hopefully she doesn't mind me sharing this. I think only like 12 people read my blog, so she's got nothing to fear): "I had a thought while staring out the window at the trees. Humans are so much more alive than trees and have so much more to live for and yet trees are so much more peaceful...humans are the most privileged organisms on the planet and Americans are the most privileged of the most privileged and yet everyone is so upset or angry all the time. I don't know. I guess I feel like people are missing the point. There is so much to live for and so much glory that needs to be given to God and people (myself included) miss out on all of it...I just want to be happy, and live and bring glory to the Almighty and give him thanks for this awesome life he's given me to live." Yeah. That pretty much says it all. --Laura :)
So, remember that little sister of mine I told you about in my last post? If you don't, then you should go read my previous post. Right now. Because then and only then will this one make sense, and also that last post was arguably my best one yet:)
My sister has a blog, and in her last post she wrote about what she intends to do with her life, and it got me thinking: what do I want to do? Nothing nearly as exciting as what Rose wants to do, but she's more of a lighthearted dreamer than me. Usually when I dream, my imagination runs away with me and I end up getting upset over problems that only exist in my beautiful mess of a mind.
Yet, still I dream. I can't help myself from letting aimless wonderings about The Future seep through the cracks of my mind. I think about it as I drift off to sleep every night, and sometimes my dreams are so vividly real I become convinced they are premonitions of what's to come.
But what really lies ahead of me, on the footpath of Someday? Only God knows. And, yeah, I know Jeremiah 29:11 by heart like any good Christian girl, but is it wrong for me to want to know what exactly those plans God has for me are?
No, I don't think so.
I know what I want to happen. I want to go to college and learn lots of things, to satisfy my endless question of "why?". I want to make friends and travel the world and experience a culture through the eyes of a foreigner and help as many people as I can. I want to be a nurse, and miraculously graduate nursing school with as minimal college debt as possible. I want to have a cute little house with a wraparound porch and rooms painted in pretty colors and a Golden Retriever named Bingley. I crave adventure, and maybe I'll have a few adventures of my own. I'll read a thousand books and hone a thousand new skills and maybe do some serious work to make the world suck less.
So, these are the things I want to do. There are memories I intend on making, too- being pinned by one of my aunts at my nurse's Pinning, being in my friends' and sisters' weddings, meeting people who make me laugh until tears stream down my cheeks. Oh, and maybe I'll write a book, or have a closet full of cute clothes and shoes, or adopt some orphans, or marry my best friend- agh, there are so many things on my bucket list. Yet I dare to dream that I, by the grace of God, can accomplish them all. And the very thought of doing all these fearful and wonderful things makes me excited and nervous at the same time. In closing, here is the link to my darling, dearest sister's blog. If you're ever having a bad day I highly reccomend you read it, and let the sunshine of her words warm your soul.
This picture basically describes mine and Rose's relationship.
So, as always, I was doing a lot of thinking today, and I realized: I named this blog All The Pretty Things for a reason. Because I wanted to write about the lovely side of life. I wanted to make myself fell better, and maybe even inspire a few people. Yet I have discovered that I have somewhat failed in the area of "positive thinking" and "happy writing." All I've really done so far is write about my so-called problems and post a few pictures of trees that I downloaded off of Google. Myopic? Yes. Inspirational? I think not. Therefore, today I have decided to write about some of the happy thoughts I've had lately. And maybe, someone somewhere will read this, and they'll laugh and smile and feel good on the inside. You never know:) Pretty things that make me happy: 1. Coffee. Yeah, I'm that girl. The one who is a grumpy wolverine every morning when she wakes up at 8:00 B.C (Before Coffee). I am a completely unmotivated, pajama-clad slug until I have a fresh, steaming cup of the sweet nectar of life. I am not even joking when I say that coffee is what gives me strength to face every day (also Jesus- whoa there, I almost sounded like a heretic). Just this week I tried to fast from coffee, but I only lasted for three days. I discovered that me + no caffeine for 72 hours= one lethargic, lifeless human being who naps like a preschooler (I fell asleep after school yesterday and the day before, thus breaking my previous record of Naps Taken This Year, which was zero). I will argue with anyone who says that coffee isn't pretty. Excuse me, but have you been to Starbucks? Have you seen all those pictures hipsters post on Instagram of their mocha frappucinos, piled high with whipped cream in plastic-domed cups? Case and point. 2. My little sister.
vertically speaking, she isn't my little sister, given the fact that she has at least an inch on me when it comes to height (but I am growing, I swear). She is my one and only baby sister, and she is most certainly one of the pretty things that make me happy. Sometimes, I think of myself when I was her age, and I get this funny, pride-like feeling in my gut, because she is so much more herself at fourteen than I ever was. Rosie is hilarious- she has no filter and has been bequeathed by her closest friends with a nickname: The Bucket of Sass. She's also tough as nails- I can be quite the demanding older sister, yet for all the ways I boss her around, or pick on her, she has not let it get to her. Usually I complain, because she can be kind of an introvert, which I find boring. This is what often happens when I ask Rose to join me at some social junction:
Me: "Hey Rose, do you want to come to (insert name of social gathering)?"
Rose: *gives me her signature 'gurl please' face* "No."
Me: "Ugh, whyyyy?"
Rose: "Why not? I have books to read. And Tumblr needs me."
Me: "But you could make some friends if you came with me. And there will be free food."
Rose: "I have all the friends I need right here *gestures to stack of Harry Potter books* and besides. Mom makes me free food."
Me: "God, you're boring."
Rose: "Meh, I am who I is." *goes back to napping*
Although Rose prefers staying in bed and reading books to going out and doing stuff, I admire her. She doesn't need people. She knows who she is, which is something most girls her age cannot say. She's good company when I'm lonely, and we have endless private jokes that the rest of the world shakes their heads at us for. I am so thankful that God has blessed me with a cute, huggable punching bag, therapist, and future maid of honor called my sister.
3. Laughter. I love to laugh. My true sense of humor is sarcastic and slightly inappropriate. I like to laugh at myself sometimes (ironically though, I get Uber-sensitive when people make fun of me, because I always think they're being serious). People with witty senses of humor make me happy. When someone tells a joke, and it hits me right in the funny bone, my immediate reaction is to ask them to be my best friend for all of eternity, or (if they happen to be male) for their hand in marriage. You know that feeling? When you laugh so hard you literally stop breathing, with a painfully happy smile on your face? That is one of the best feelings in the world. I think laughing like that should be a good workout for your abs. If that was the case, I believe people would be motivated to laugh more. Then there would be more laughter in the world, all because some people wanted 6-packs.
4. Music. Usually, music is my go-to when I feel sad, or confused, or just drained. I love lyrics that speak the words I cannot voice, but only feel. I love music that moves me, those songs whose melodies stir up a fire in my soul. Music is certainly a Pretty Thing. Anyone with ears could tell you that. Surely everyone has the One Song that they listen to on repeat until it becomes their own, the one with the lyrics that they've memorized, because they feel like they are their lyrics. Even songs without words speak volumes- I love this one by the fantastic group called the Piano Guys. To me, it sounds hopeful. It sounds like the early morning, right after the sun has come up, when you have hardly said a word and as of yet, the day is unspoiled and full of promise.
Maybe I'm a hopeful sort of person. I definitely expect a lot out of other people, and because of that I end up being disappointed a lot. I believe in the power of music, but I also believe in the power of words. Words can be a person's greatest encouragement, and also their biggest adversary. I believe we have the power to let someone else's words define us. We also have the power to ignore them, to make them meaningless to us. More importantly, we have to make that decision whenever someone says something that could potentially harm or define us- will their words make us, or will they break us? I think it's usually best not to let what anyone says hurt us, unless it is for our own good. The phrase "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" is nice and all, but I personally believe that what you decide to not let hurt you really makes you stronger. You get tough, yet vulnerable at the same time. It's a strange conundrum, but it is life, and who am I to question the greatest gift God has ever given me?
