Protecting the King

Every single year at about this time, I write my hopes and dreams for the year that is about to begin. As I do this, I also take time to reflect on the past year. I think about what I've learned. I remember all that I've lost. I smile over each thing that I've gained. Sometimes, a sadness creeps up my spine and I find myself having a hard time letting go of the year. I realize, each year, that I've grown attached to the current times. Sometimes, I think, it's because I'm worried that the next year will not hold as much happiness as the previous year. Other times, I fear that the new year will not, in fact, bring the answers to my prayers. This time of the year is hard for me, and it always has been. Perhaps, even, it always will be. Each year has been more monumental to the building of my character than the year before it, and at some point, I'm going to have to wonder when this pattern will end. A small part of me hopes that the pattern of ongoing improvement will be endless and infinite.

I've always heard people say, "That was the best year of my life." The look in their eyes when they make this statement is undeniable and absolutely cannot be created by a person who does not truly mean what he or she is saying. But, I can say the very same thing about so many years. The funniest part of all of this is that some of my most cherished years were the ones that I described as the worst years of my life. These were the years with the most trials, the largest number of nights spent crying myself to sleep, and the most days that I wore the heavy mask of a happy person who is not truly happy at all. These were the years in which I got hurt by people that I loved. These were the years that I hurt myself. These were the years in which I failed at every single thing I attempted to do. This may seem strange to other people, but it makes perfect sense to me. In order to receive rewards in life, one must be in the right place at the right time. But, in order to appreciate these rewards, this person must have, at some point in time, been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Two people could experience an equally and seemingly boring day. To one of these people, this day would be forgotten completely, seeing as nothing good happened. To the other, it could be the best day he or she has had in an extremely long time, simply because nothing bad happened. In the same sense, some people may look at some years of my life and think that I was a failure. To others, I may look like a survivor.

2008 was a year of trials, changes, love, pain, suffering, and hard work. It was also a year filled with laughter, photographs, lessons, friendships, and risks. I had to deal with health problems this year and had to have two surgeries. But, I found a strength in myself that had been sitting in my soul, just waiting to be needed. I had my heart broken, and I broke the heart of another. But, in return, I found someone who put my heart back together. Even though my breakup with Kyle was painful, in the end, it was worth it. Russell and I began dating days before I had my first surgery, but as he took care of me during my two week recovery, I felt as if we had been together for years. We learned everything about each other during these two weeks. We stayed up and talked until the sun came up. He did every single thing he could to make me feel better. He did not have to do this, and most people would not be willing to go to those measures that early in a relationship. Russell never questioned what he was doing, though. We fell in love more quickly than I ever thought was possible, and if I had to go through it again, surgery and all, I wouldn't even think twice. It was worth it. In August, I began a semester filled with some of the hardest classes I've ever taken. I worked harder than I've ever worked before. I stayed up all night writing papers, studying for tests, and reading British Literature. I was exhausted every single day of the semester. I did not have time to travel and see my friends as much as I would have liked, because I had so much homework, reading, and sleep to catch up on. By the time midterms rolled around, my grades looked good. After midterms, I started feeling sick again. I was having terrible cramps and pains in my lower abdomen, but I was too busy to go to the doctor to have it checked out. I was piled with school work, and did not have time to worry about silly cramps. Then, I woke up one morning and could not even speak because my pain was so intense. Russell made me go to the doctor, who sent me to the hospital, where I was admitted. After days of tests, they decided to do emergency surgery. I had my appendix removed, as well as a golf sized ovarian cyst. One day after being released from the hospital, I went back to school. I was extremely behind with my work, and had one night to prepare for a speech, as well as write a paper. It was hard, and I was exhausted, but I did it. I stood up in front of my class, with my bandages and pain meds, and gave a speech. It wasn't a fantastic speech, but I got through it. Because my teacher knew that I'd just had surgery, she gave me a good grade. She could have given me an F, though, and I still would have been proud. It was one of the worst days of this year, but I'd never been more proud of myself. It was worth it. I worked hard to catch up in the four other classes, and eventually, I did. I could not drive on my medicine, so Russell had to take me everywhere. Life went on, and I recovered just as quickly as I did from the first surgery. Time for finals rolled around, and I stayed up for nights, reading and taking notes for my British Lit final, which was the hardest exam I've ever taken. I know so many poems from beginning to end. I know the life stories of these authors who lived so long ago. I learned about the stereotypical roles of the members of these societies of the past. I forgot about sleep, food, and having a social life. When I went to take this final, though, I went completely blank. I was in a panic. I bombed. However, after I turned the final in to my professor, he returned the paper that I'd written that was worth a large portion of our grade. I was already in tears, and since he is a strict grader, I was afraid to look at the back page to see my grade. When I got to my car, though, I noticed that all of the red ink that covered my paper contained words of praise and compliments. I flipped through the pages until I got to the last one, and when I saw the big A with a circle around it, I forgot all about the final that I'd just done so badly on. I put my heart into that paper, and my work was appreciated. All of the sleep I'd missed, the work I'd done, and the things I'd learned suddenly became worth it. IT WAS WORTH IT. And, that's how I feel about my entire year. Every single bad thing that happened was completely worth it. In my book, there's almost nothing better than being able to say that and really, truly, honestly mean it.

Before I wrote this, I played a game of chess online. I've been doing that a lot lately. When playing chess, one has to be patient. Each move that is made changes the game entirely. Each move is equally important. One must be able to simultaneously look at each possible response to the move he or she just made while considering what he or she will do in return to these responses. Sacrifices must be made. A chess player must decide which pieces he or she believes is most important. I think that life is a lot like chess. People say that it's a game of strategy, a game of war. There are two sides to the board. I can control every move that I make on my side, but I have abosolutely no control as to the moves made by the opposing side. I must try to set up the opposing side so that it is forced to make the moves that I desire. Isn't that what we do in life? We say certain things in the pursuit of hearing what we want to hear in response. We love others in whatever way we think will prompt them to love us in return. We do the things that we love to do in the hopes that somewhere in the world, someone will appreciate our talent, which could, in turn, open doors for us. We control ourselves in ways that let us control others without them knowing it. It's a hard concept to understand, but then again, chess is not the easiest game. Strategy equals manipulation, no matter which way a person attempts to describe it. The point of chess is to protect the king. In life, each person's deepest desire is to protect him or herself from harmful people, feelings, events, etc. In chess, the queen can move in any direction for any distance. In real life, the queen could represent the part of ourselves that, when placed in certain situations, would go to any measure to protect what is most important. The queen is bold. The queen takes risks. If the queen is ever captured, though, the game almost seems doomed. The soul is taken out of the game. In life, the soul is too precious to live without. In the end, the queen becomes more useful than the king. The queen gives hope to the game. Without hope, there is no desire. Without desire, there is no win. These same unwritten laws apply to life, too. Rooks are important in chess, too. They're pushed to the corner of the board, and often go unnoticed until they are needed. In life, our parents are the rooks. I tend to push my parents away, but I'm still quick to call on them when I need them. In chess, rooks are often used as a sacrifice piece. They come in, save the king, and then they're gone. We expect that, at some point, we will lose the rooks to the other side. It hurts the game, but it does not end it. In life, we all expect that one day, we'll lose our parents. But, they do all that they can do for us while they're here. They change our lives. Rooks change the game. Bishops are important in chess, too. They swoop across the board, often taking out as many of the bad guys as they can. In my life, Russell can be represented by the bishop. He would go across the world and back for me, but if I'm not where I'm supposed to be, then he cannot help me. If I do not protect him in return, I will lose him, too. In a game of chess, the game is not doomed when the bishops are lost. However, it becomes much harder. It feels much more like the king is working alone in a downhill battle. The queen becomes the main source of help, but without protection, it is much easier to lose the queen. In life, without Russell, it would have been much easier to lose the hope and desire that got me through this battle that we call life. In chess, knights do not have many options as to where they can go, as well as how fast they can travel. They are usually seen as disposable, and although they do help build a winning strategy, they cannot be counted on to complete significant tasks. We have knights in real life, too. They stand by us, they protect us, and they work for us. But, sometimes, they're gone before we can even realize it. Our real life knights, to me, represent the people that enter our lives, inspire us, and leave. We, at one point in time, needed them. They helped us. We never forget that they were there, but we do not lose ourselves when they are gone. Finally, in chess, there are pawns. They often get in the way. They are used as sacrifice pieces. There are many of them, and they are hardly seen as significant. However, every once in a while, they make it through the hardest part of the battle. They're there in the end. Sometimes, they make it to the other side, and they become something much larger and more powerful than we expected. These insignificant, little, useless pawns can actually save the day in the end. In real life, we have our own versions of these pawns. Sometimes, even, we are the pawns in the lives of others. Before we even notice it, these people who we never thought would make a difference in the outcomes of our lives end up saving us. Some of my "pawns" turned into my beacons of hope. They saved me in the end. They stood strong throughout the battle. For example, Russell came into my life as a classmate in a class that I didn't even want to be in. In the end, though, he ended up saving me from the thinking that I deserved the bad treatment I was receiving. He made me feel beautiful. He became the most important part of my future. He changed the game. He made the fight worth it.

In 2009, I hope to see all of the pieces as being equal. I want see a glimpse of a queen in each pawn. I want to bring the rooks closer to me. I want the king to stop hiding behind those who seem more powerful. I want to be the knight in someone else's life. I want to be a better bishop, and go across the world and back for the person that I want to protect from harm the most. This year, the queen is going to shine. The hope will not be captured, because it is going to grow until it is almost ready to burst. I will only sacrifice what is necessary to survive. Instead of working to beat the other side, I'm going to work to make my side even stronger. This year, my side of the board is going to be victorious.

However, just in case I find myself losing, I'm going to remember that the best part of chess (and life) is that no matter what happens, I can always start over. I can always choose a new approach and focus on the areas in which I lacked the most strength. Most of all, though, I hope to learn more about who I am and how my choices affect my future. I hope to make my moves wisely, and never regret what I've done. I am willing to lose some things in order to gain others. And, above all things, I'm willing to start over until I find something that works. One day, I will, and I'll appreciate it, simply because I'll know that I earned it.

I'm okay with saying goodbye to 2008. It's been the best year of my life. My New Year's Resolution is to be able to make that exact same statement this time next year with the exact same look in my eyes.

Here's to 2009!

With love,
Haley

My brain could possibly explode.

This has been an incredibly hard week, and it's only Wednesday. I have a lot of things on my mind, and I'm almost certain that my brain could explode at any given moment. Big things always happen in my life during the week of final exams, and it makes me wonder if I'm cursed with some sort of bad luck plague that only hits during the most important week of the semester. As soon as I have this thought, I'm immediately flooded with guilt. There are so many other things going on that are so much bigger than final exams, and I almost feel like God waits until this week for these things to happen in order to keep me grounded. It makes me remember what is really important in life. It makes me realize that while burying myself in studying for my British Literature exam, the world continues turning. It does not stop for me, nor does it stop for anybody else.

Someone that I care for very much is going through a rough time right now. He's facing the realization that at some point in time, we are all going to die. There is no amount of love that can stop this from happening. However, I'm seeing a huge change in him. I'm seeing this strength and courage shine in his eyes like I've never seen before. He strongly believes that there is always hope in every bad situation. I believe that, too. I believe it for so many reasons, and none of these reasons is more important that another. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that it doesn't matter WHY, HOW, or WHERE one finds reason to hope. All that truly matters is that these reasons exist everywhere, and are open and available to anyone who truly wishes to find them. Seeing him be so strong and determined has inspired me to my very core. One day, I may be put in the same position as he, and I hope that I'll be able to find strength in God exactly as he has. When I talked to Gail about it, she reminded me that in some unexplainable way, God knows when we need strength, and those who believe can find this strength through Him. He's always there, and as long as one believes in him, he or she can get through just about anything. I'm so thankful to have people like Gail in my life. I'm blessed to have someone who I can call and cry to, and they just listen and offer the best advice and comfort that they can give. I've always wondered how she got through the grief she has had to endure over the years, and while I always thought it was due to her close relationship with God, I am now positive of that. She's one of the best friends I've ever had. When I think of family, her face is one of the first that I see in my mind. She's my hero. It makes me wonder if one day, I'll be someone's hero, too.

One of my very best friends in the entire world got engaged recently, and I was the first person she called when it happened! For the longest time, she felt as if she would never find true love. One day, when she least expected it, true love found her. From this, I learned that true love can't be found. It just isn't mean to happen that way. True love must find you. She asked me to be in her wedding, and I'm beyond thrilled about it! She's a beautiful girl, on the inside as well as the outside, and I'm honored that she asked me. We've been friends for a long time, and she's helped me through many things. People always ask if we're sisters, and looking back on everything we've gone through together, I realize that in a way, we are. She's getting married at the Catholic church in Hoover, and her reception is going to be AWESOME! We're going to dance, eat, and celebrate all night. She reserved an entire floor at a hotel that isn't far from the reception site, and we're all going to continue celebrating after the reception. It's going to be a great night, and I can't wait!

So, as I sit here, buried in notes about William Wordsworth, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Anna Laetitia Barbould, Mary Robinson, William Blake, Lord Byron, Percy Shelley, John Keats, Lord Tennyson, Robert Browning, Matthew Arnold, Joseph Conrad, James Joyce, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Christina Rossetti, T.S. Eliot, William Yeats, and other great English poets, I can't help but smile, despite all of the words about death. You see, in order to fully understand life, you must first be aware of death. It's funny how that works, isn't it? I'm reading through pages and pages of sorrowful words, and I'm grinning from ear to ear. I can't help but smile, because all of this makes me remember how much there is out there worth living for. Mitch Albom wrote, "In order to learn how to live, we must first learn how to die." I think that he must have taken British Lit, too. :)


"Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:--
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?"
- T.S. Eliot (The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock)

Pictures from Thanksgiving Break 2008

I wrote a long Thanksgiving blog, but it's on Luke's computer, and he isn't in Jacksonville. But, I'll put it up when I'm able! Hope everyone had a great week :)

Love,
Haley

my character synopsis for my presentation :)

Tomorrow, I have to give a presentation in character from a book of my choice. I chose to present the book Autobiography of a Face by Lucy Grealy. I will be giving a synopsis in the character of Lucy Grealy. Since my audience will not know anything about the book, and most of you probably haven't read it, I decided to post this synopsis as a blog. I hope it is effective in your "getting to know" Lucy Grealy's character in this book.

My name is Lucy Grealy. When I was nine years old, I was diagnosed with Ewing's Sarcoma, which is a rare facial bone cancer. I had surgery to remove a part of my jaw. The next few years of my life were spent in the children's ward of a hospital. I went through 3 years of chemotherapy and radiation. At a very young age, I had experienced more pain, nausea, confusion, guilt, and fear than most people do in an entire lifetime. While I was in the hospital, I was surrounded by other children who had cancer. They experienced my pain. They lost their hair, just like I did. They wondered why their own families felt uncomfotable around them, too. They understood. They did not judge. One day, I got to leave the hospital. I finally got to go home. What would normally be a day of celebration was instead a day full of disappointment. My house did not look the same way it did when I left. Things were falling apart in every imaginable sense. My once financially stable family had been ravaged by an expensive illness, and I knew that it was mine. I felt guilty for causing so much change. I felt responsible for my mother's extreme depression. I felt as if I had been forever separated from my family by cancer. I wondered if my siblings thought I looked funny without hair. When I went back to school, the other kids pointed and laughed. I didn't blame them, and I thought that it was because of my hair, or lack of it. But, the laughing continued even after the hair grew back. And, it was at this time that I had to come to terms with the fact that my face was not normal. It wasn't going to magically grow back, as my hair had. I was "ugly", and everyone who saw me knew it. The boys dared each other to ask me out, and the mothers hushed their children who said, "What is wrong with her face" when I walked by. I was only comfortable on Halloween, when it was appropriate to wear masks. I wanted to wear a mask every day, and I felt this way until I realized that we all wear masks every single day of our lives. Ideally, a face cannot tell you much about a person. You can't look at someone's face and know their talents, their hopes, their dreams, or their fears. Realistically, however, I felt as if nobody could ever love me romantically with a face like mine. I wanted so badly to be normal, while everyone else was wishing to be extraordinary. I spent 5 years of my life being treated for cancer, and the next 15 being treated for nothing more than being different. I had over 30 reconstructive surgeries before I found a face that made me look almost "normal". Do you think that being "normal" made me feel beautiful? Would I finally be able to live? Will people find out what lies behind my face? The pain in this book is real. These pages contain all of the contents from the smallest, most sacred place in my heart. This is my story.

The Audacity of HYPE

I was sitting in my British Literature class on Tuesday, November 4. I could not stop thinking about the election and its potential outcome. So, as I always do when I'm bothered, I wrote. Unfortunately, I ended up in the hospital on Tuesday and had emergency surgery on Wednesday. When I was released on Thursday, I remembered what I wrote and decided that it was time to finish it. Here it is.

Everything changes today. As a 21 year old, I should probably be excited. However, I find myself sitting in class writing about how I'm scared. Change is not something that can be avoided. Change is vital to each person and his or her happiness and satisfaction. People crave change in their individual lives constantly. As a society, we place all of our hope on upcoming changes. And, while we're doing all of this hoping and waiting, we completely fail to realize the seemingly invisible changes that are continuously happening in the background. Behind all of the debates, stickers, bickering, signs in our front yards, rumors, facebook groups, news headlines, rallies, protests, promises, the religious background of one candidate, and the POW background of the other, we find that each candidate is no more than a human being. Both were born, and there will come a day when each of these men will die. THe difference between Obama, McCain, and the rest of us is that somewhere along the way, they found themselves competing to be the president of our troubled country. And, they were both able to do this because they formed connections with people who they each knew could help financially support their campaigns. They each have groups of people who watch and critique every move they make. They are told what to wear, what to say, how to feel about specific issues that are important to voters, how to respond to each and every possible question that could be asked at any point in time, which personality trait to show the most in order to appeal to voters, which smile to flash, which promises to place emphasis on, which promises voters will forget, which states are "most important", and so on. In fact, dare I say that there are very few people who have been able to get a real glimpse of the real Obama or the real McCain. How would they dress on their own? What do they do to relax? What are their favorite movies, music genres, authors, restaurants, or alcoholic beverage? Who are their TRUE best friends, and how valuable are these friendships now that every person in America knows who both of these men are? What hides behind the faces plastered on all of the political propaganda? What values do each of these men hold inside of their hearts? Do they pray to God before they go to sleep? And, if they do pray, do they do it because God is in their hearts, or because God is in the hearts of the people who will be voting? Do they really believe what they say they believe? The truth is plain and clear to me. Both of these men are complete strangers to us, and the majority of America is completely blind to this fact. During this election, I found myself supporting one candidate simply because I was terrified of the alternative. Is that what American politics have come to? I should be forced to vote for someone who has values that are quite opposite of my own?

While I despise Obama withe every ounce of my being, let me say that there are a lot of things that I do not like about John McCain. To begin, he does not support a woman's right to choose when concerning an unwanted pregnancy and the decision to have an abortion. Instead, he promotes adoption. In fact, he and his wife adopted a child. What I do not understand is why a person can't promote the benefits of adoption while also supporting a woman's right to choose another option. While I do believe that abortion should be available to females, I believe that if the girl is under the age of 18, she should have to get parental approval. Currently, any female aged 16 or above can get an abortion without parental consent. Abortions can come with an ugly aftermath, and most young girls are not prepared for the emotional distress, guilt, and depression that often follows this decision. I also believe that there should be a law that requires females to go to a therapist for a certain amount of time after having an abortion. The other big issue that I have with the McCain campaign is his huge anti-gay marriage attitude. Are you kidding me? How can I possibly support a man who thinks that homosexuals do not deserve the same basic rights as other human beings? I strongly support the right for homosexuals to be married in ANY state, and under the same laws as heterosexuals. God made us all. The United States of America was originally meant to give each individual the right to freely practice any religion. If that were still true, my homosexual friends should be able to say, "God created me. God loves me, and I am a faithful servant to him. I am also gay. God gave me the ability to love, and I have done this. Now, in the presence of God, my friends, and my family, I want to marry the love of my life." Each person has the right to practice the religion that he or she feels is "right", but a man who believes that he was created by God and has always been gay still doesn't have the right to practice the belief that God made him that way that he is, which is gay. By denying homosexuals the right to marry in the same manner as any given heterosexual, are we saying that God makes mistakes? Do any of you honestly believe that anyone would choose to be gay? I've seen what my homosexual friends have had to go through in their lives. I've seen the way they've been taunted, teased, laughed at, been called "sinners" (as if we all aren't sinners), and most importantly, been denied the right to marry the love of their lives. This right is denied because in the Bible, it is called a sin. But, does the Bible not also say that there is no one sin greater than another? That being said, should people who lie no longer be allowed to speak? When people steal, should they no longer be allowed to use their hands? When a person becomes jealous, should his or her right to FEEL be denied, as well? If there is no one sin worse than another, why are there not stronger punishments and limitations for people who commit other sins? I just do not get it. And, there are even cases where homosexual people are denied the right to adopt a child due to their "immoral" lifestyle. So, John McCain wishes to promote adoption, but only to straight couples? Children who have no love, no support, and no will to survive are left in foster homes or likewise facilities rather than placed in loving homes in the hands of a couple who want nothing more than to be parents and happen to be homosexual? In many cases, children are placed in the homes of foster parents who are more worried about what they are going to spend their monthly government check on than the physical and emotional welfare of the child. Which option do you think the child would choose if he or she had the freedom or right to make that decision? Would they choose a loving and successful gay couple who happen to understand what it feels like to grow up much differently than "normal" people? Or, would the child choose to be tossed from foster home to foster home, constantly searching for love? It doesn't matter what the child would choose. At this point, they do not get to choose much of anything. And, this reminds me of McCain's argument against abortion. He believes that it is not fair due to the fact that the child's right to live is completely taken away. However, by denying homosexuals the right to adopt a child and give them a happy life, is the same thing not happening? In fact, when we are born, we have no choice about anything. We do not choose which genes are dominant, who our parents are, if we are gay or straight, if we'll have diabetes, if we will have Downs Syndrome, or mental retardation, a big nose, brown eyes, our gender, and etc. We choose nothing. However, mentally retarded people are allowed to get married. People with brown eyes are allowed to get married. I know a few diabetics that are married, even. Our society has accepted that somewhere between God and genetics, these things are chosen for us. We do not laugh at people with Downs Syndrome, because "they can't help it". And, they can't. However, it seems to be perfectly acceptable to laugh at a gay person. I just don't get it. If a mentally retarded person chooses to marry, we do not question the morals of this person. We just say, "(He/She) is this way for a reason. Maybe God is teaching us to be patient and learn the real meaning of unconditional love". But, when a child grows up and realizes that he or she is gay, we tell them they they are wrong. We say that God would not make them that way. And, how do we know this? Is it really moral to question God's creations and/or motives? Wow. So, those are the two big issues that I have with McCain.

Let's move on to Obama. He terrifies me. He is the worst possible thing that could happen to this country. He preaches "CHANGE". What is he changing? Is he talking about the change in his pocket? Is he talking about changing his pants? Is he talking about changing our democratic government to a socialist government? Is he talking about the change America will be ready to make (if we even still have that right) when his four years in office are over? Barack Obama said, "Should we go with Leviticus, which suggests slavery is ok and that eating shellfish is abomination? How about Deuteronomy, which suggests stoning your child if he strays from the faith? Or should we just stick to the Sermon on the Mount - a passage that is so radical that it’s doubtful that our own Defense Department would survive its application? So before we get carried away, let’s read our bibles. Folks haven’t been reading their bibles.” RADICAL? How can Obama even speak the word RADICAL without getting struck by lightening? Half of American speaks of Obama as if he is the Messiah (it pains me to even TYPE that), while the other half speaks of him as if he is the Anti-Christ. I've never seen so much interest in a candidate before. He intrigues some, and scares others. You've all heard about his background. You know of his connections with radicals such as Reverend Wright. You all saw where Fidel Castro announced his support for Barack Obama. You've read his middle name, and if it did not frighten you, it should have. You've all seen the posters being sold with Obama's face plastered on an image the body of Jesus Christ. His supporters often are just as radical as he is. Have you read his books? They speak so negatively about "the white man" and even express an admiration for Adolf Hitler and the control he had over Germany. Everyone heard him say that he was too inexperienced to run for president, and half of these people forget this statement the second he announced that he would, in fact, be running for office. Many people supported and voted for Obama because they are purely Democratic voters. They loved Bill Clinton, as did I. However, most of them failed to do their research. If they had, they would know that Obama voted against the majority of Clinton's bill proposals. He wants to have equal health care for everyone, which people of low income will benefit from. He wants to negotiate welfare reform, which people of low income will benefit from. He wants free child care facilities, which people of low income will benefit from. Do you see a pattern? He wants to rapidly end the war in Iraq, which is an incredibly dangerous decision. What have our men died for? If we end it now, all of these brave men and women would have been killed, injured, or taken away from their families for NOTHING. How can a real American support that? He preaches of peace, but represents Illinois, home of Chicago, which happens to have had more deaths in the past year than the war in Iraq has had in the past year. If he cannot control murder rates in one city, how does he plan on doing that for an entire country? In his childhood and high school years, he was called "Barry". However, when he learned that he could benefit from his African heritage, he decided to go by Barack. Like I said, I am terrified of this man. I'm scared to death of the damage he may bring to all of us with his presidency.

I've done my research. I've educated myself. And, I've come to the conclusion that either way this election went, we would not get the answers to all of our concerns. I just don't get it. This is a victory for black Americans, but is this man not just as much white as he is black? And, even with this, it is not a victory for me, as a white American. It is a horror. Is this God's plan for us? What will we learn from this? We need all of God's help that we can get. I suggest we start asking for it on January 20th, 2009, and that we do not stop until this man is out of the White House.

until next time,
Haley

Analytical Essay of "The Little Black Boy" by William Blake

My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but O, my soul is white!
White as an angel is the English child,
But I am black, as if bereaved of light.

My mother taught me underneath a tree,
And, sitting down before the heat of day,
She took me on her lap and kissèd me,
And, pointing to the East, began to say:

'Look at the rising sun: there God does live,
And gives His light, and gives His heat away,
And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive
Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday.

'And we are put on earth a little space,
That we may learn to bear the beams of love;
And these black bodies and this sunburnt face
Are but a cloud, and like a shady grove.

'For when our souls have learn'd the heat to bear,
The cloud will vanish, we shall hear His voice,
Saying, "Come out from the grove, my love and care,
And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice."'

Thus did my mother say, and kissèd me,
And thus I say to little English boy.
When I from black and he from white cloud free,
And round the tent of God like lambs we joy,

I'll shade him from the heat till he can bear
To lean in joy upon our Father's knee;
And then I'll stand and stroke his silver hair,
And be like him, and he will then love me.


William Blake’s “The Little Black Boy” is a poem that is narrated by a young black boy during a period of time when slavery was still legal. Many people who read this poem seem to have a problem deciding if Blake projects a view that a stereotypical black child of this time would be thought to have, or if he actually shows readers an accurate version of the child. As for myself, I absolutely do not believe that Blake had any intention of insulting or criticizing any race. The image of the little boy that I see is of one who has been brought up to believe that he is to protect the little white boy. He has been raised believing that white represents all things that are good, which is shown when the black boy insists in the second line that his soul is white. What I am seeing here is a young boy who has lived his entire life serving people who are different from him. These people are all white. While he’s grown up physically serving white people, he has been spiritually serving God. In the third line, he compares the white English child to an angel. This further proves that in this day, white was often thought to mean pure, heavenly, and good. On the other hand, black was thought to represent death and evil. Just when I was about to believe that Blake was a bit racist, I read the fourth line. This line explains that the boy feels “bereaved of light”, which means that he has been blocked from the sun. I took this to mean that he felt that his dark colored skin would prevent God from seeing him in the same way He saw the young English boy. From the very moment I read this line, I have believed that the image Blake was attempting to portray was not one that taunted a race. Instead, I believe that Blake felt very strongly against these racial stereotypes. Since this was in a time with the slavery movements were just beginning, perhaps Blake found that the best way he could contribute to the cause would be to give everyone a new insight on what it was really like to grow up as a slave. Blake’s point in presenting this certain image was to educate white Americans in the hope that they would see how unfair slavery was. I think that the reason Blake writes about the black child questioning God is to mock Christians who were supporters of slavery being legal. It seems as if Blake believed that since God created all men, then they should all be treated as equals. By having his young narrator express the belief that God would see him as being less worthy than His white believers, Blake manages to show his readers what their actions were implying about their belief in God and His word. Blake presents a connection between God and the sun, and I find it ironic that the color black is known to absorb and retain heat from sunlight, while white is known for staying cooler and reflecting sunlight. Also, Blake implies that the black boy is not bothered by the heat, and seems to be used to it. I believe Blake was implying that the black child had been a faithful servant his entire life. Because he maintained his faith in God through all of these trials and hard times, the black boy is much closer to God than the English boy.

Blake’s description of a black boy’s thoughts shows readers an image that makes fun of the stereotypical black person while also showing how he feels about this stereotype. Many readers believe that this image is too stereotypical, which often causes them to misunderstand the rest of the poem. I find that by making the black child so eager to be seen as an equal to the white boy, Blake was trying to emphasize the ridiculous idea that an entire race of God’s people could be convinced to believe that they were made by God with the purpose to serve the white race. By using a young child, Blake is able to present an innocent point of view. If he had used an adult black man, the poem would have had an angry tone rather than an honest one. It is even possible that Blake predicted that his readers would feel more sympathy for a child, even if the child was a slave. I am also aware of many stories from the slave era that describe the black women as being comforting, caring, and dedicated mothers. However, in this poem, every verb describing an action made by the mother is in past tense. This led me to believe that she had passed away, and he was simply remembering what she’d told him at some point in the past. While this does play into the comforting mother stereotype, I do not think that Blake had any negative implications or intentions.

I do not think that Blake’s use of a stereotypical black child makes this poem any less effective. Blake uses this stereotype to show readers that no matter how white people treated black people on Earth, they would be treated as equals in Heaven. It seems as if he’s making a desperate attempt to show that the young black child seems as if he would do anything in the world for God’s love. This being said, it also seems as if Blake is implying that white people believed that they deserved to go to Heaven. Clearly, he stereotyped white people, too. I think that he did this to show that stereotypes are hurtful for everyone. Blake also stereotypes God, using the well-known description of a strong and powerful God with silver hair. Also, he describes Heaven as a “golden tent”, which goes along with the popular image of a heaven filled with streets of gold. If anything, Blake’s use of stereotypes gives significance to the entire poem. Without it, it would not prove a thing. Blake understands that as a writer, one must grab everyone’s attention in order to get his/her views out there and heard. When dealing with a controversial issue, a writer must be willing to take risks. Blake took that risk, and because he did, he showed his support for the fight to abolish slavery.

Book Review for Love by Toni Morrison

Literary Analysis Book 3

Haley L. Thomas
Title: Love
Author: Toni Morrison
Publishing Company and Location: Random House/New York, New York
Copyright Date: 2003
Literary Genre: Realism
Setting: This novel is set during the 1990’s on the East American coast country, in a small town named Silk. The place where most of the story takes place in a large house on 1 Monarch Street, which was home to the three Cosey women: Heed, May, and Christine. Each of these women are related to the late Bill Cosey, who owned a very prominent hotel. The hotel is the setting of many of the flashbacks had by different characters in the book, seeing as most of the characters either worked at the hotel, or had an experience with someone who did.

Significance of the Time Period: This time period was significant because it shows readers that no matter how much time has passed, and no matter how much people may try to claim that everything is different than when they were young, nothing ever really changes. Women in the 1990’s were no more sexually promiscuous than women in any decade. However, the women of the nineties were less inclined to hide this behavior.

Plot Type: This story and its plot are both character-driven, and the story is presented to readers in a way that a mystery story would be. Instead of the mystery being “Who did it?” as it is in many mysteries, the question lies in finding out who each person is and why he/she did the things that he/she did. While the plot seems very complex throughout the book, it ends up being quite simple.

Plot Summary: This is a book about love. However, this is not a story of two lovers who have to fight to stay together. This is a book that tells stories of paternal and maternal love, love for one’s self, romantic love, jealous love, hateful love, the love of friendship, finding love, and finding out that the love that was thought to exists never really existed at all.
This novel tells the story of six women who all had different types of love for a man who owned a prominent hotel. Bill Cosey has a different role in each character’s life. He plays the part of a father, boss, lover, friend, enemy, mystery, and husband. However, it quickly becomes obvious that he is much more than that. His character seems to be the center of the entire novel, even though he is already dead during the present time of the novel.
As I turned each page, and moved from chapter to chapter, each person’s mystery began to unfold. I understood and sympathized with each character, no matter how unusual that may seem to someone who has not read this book. I learned why May went insane. I figured out what turned Heed and Christine’s childhood friendship into a relationship that sat on the thin line that separates love and hate. I learned where Junior came from, and who she really is. I found out where Christine went during her famous disappearance, and why she even left in the first place. Slowly, but with interest, I found out who L was, even though I never even learned her real name.
This novel tells the story of a family who is quietly misunderstood. Heed and Christine are the same age, and when Heed marries Christine’s grandfather (Bill Cosey) at the age of 11, they begin to fight for his attention and affection. Since he was in his fifties during the time of this marriage, there was much confusion over his love towards a girl of such a young age. There is a strong tension between the two girls, and this tension begins to involve Christine’s mother, May, who feels the need to defend her daughter. During all of this drama, L’s character plays the part of the peacemaker. And, Morrison includes a woman named Celestial, who was Mr. Cosey’s lover. There is also a woman named Vida, who considered Mr. Cosey a saint because he gave her a job at his hotel that was much better than the one she had at a cannery.
The men in the story are also significant, and we learn quite a bit about what each of them are hiding, as well. First, of course, is Mr. Cosey. At first, he seems like a man who took advantage of his power, and could have anything that he wanted. He married a young girl and never felt the need to explain why he did this. He had a lover on the side. He spent his entire life around women who wanted nothing more than to be his favorite. Mr. Cosey displayed many different forms of love throughout this novel, although none of these forms ever seemed to be enough for the person who was receiving this love. Next, we learn about Vida’s husband, Sandler, who was a good friend of Mr. Cosey’s. Sandler and Vida have a grandson named Romen, who ends up falling for Junior, a girl who is taken in by Heed to assist her in taking care of personal business.
The actual story does not lie in the plot. The plot, in all actuality, is quite simple. However, it’s in the way that the plot unfolds. This is a story about a love that is so complex that even the characters do not immediately notice its existence. There is no mystery in the plot. Instead, the mystery lies in each of the characters. The plot is simple. However, the characters are anything but that.

Point of View: This book is written in third person, and is sometimes narrated by the character L. Readers are able to see the thoughts of each character.

Tone: Morrison uses a tone that encourages readers to find a reason to be sympathetic towards each of the characters. Although it may sound strange, in the end, it is easy to understand the motives of each character. The tone of the novel is mysterious, while also being very revealing.

Diction: The dialogue in this novel perfectly captures the way I thought each character would sound if they were speaking. Some of the characters are less educated than others, and the dialogue reflects this. Even the thoughts of each character captured the essence of who that character really was, and through this, readers are allowed to understand the difference in what these people were thought to be and who they actually were.

Organization: At first, it does not seem as if this novel is organized at all. However, the flashbacks begin to make sense and seem to come at the appropriate time. The title of each chapter also happens to be the main subject of the chapter.

Readability: This is not an easy novel to read. If even one word is missed, the meaning of the entire sentence disappears. In my opinion, anyone under the age of 16 would not have the patience and depth required to fully understand this novel.

Content: This book contains mature and adult content, and for this reason, I would be very careful in who I advised to read it. It contains graphic descriptions of sexual encounters, and the significance of these scenes would be lost on a young reader.

Significance of the Title: There absolutely could not be a more appropriate title for this book. Love is what each character in the book craves the most, and understands the least.

Unique Literary Devices: Morrison uses symbolism throughout this novel. For example, she uses the idea of a silver spoon, a serpent, a trumpet, and a set of unforgettable eyes to present ideas that are not directly written in the text.

Use of Novel in the Classroom: I would only teach this novel in a college level classroom, simply because I think that it would not be appreciated by high school students. There are many layers to this book, and it takes a willing reader to uncover each layer. There is language in this novel that is significant to the story, but would probably offend the parents of a younger child. To be honest, I have seen a teacher get in trouble for teaching this book in my high school, and I can understand why parents were upset, even though personally, I would not be.

-story of a girl-

Broken girl, damaged girl,
how are you going to change the world?
Thinking fast, walking slow,
through the wind, rain, and snow.

She's leaving town, escaping pain,
and nothing will ever be the same.
What is she doing? Where will she go?
The healing girl just does not know.

She's searching for someone to show her the way
to a new starting place where she can stay.
Her heart is aching, but she's becoming strong,
and the fear she carried is now long gone.

Growing girl, wiser girl
(as rare and valued as a pearl)
slowly re-opened the doors to her heart,
and the girl's new life could finally start.

The pretty girl believes in fate,
and through this lesson she met her mate.
Before she knew it, she began to fall,
and none of the past even mattered at all.

-Haley

PS- I wrote this in class the other day. I'm no better at poetry than I've ever been, but this one has special meaning :) So, I decided to share!

I'm terrible, I know!

I finally updated my stupid livejournal account. I'm going to do better... I promise. In case you forgot, it's asmartblonde.livejournal.com :)

xoxo
hlt

Life.

Life.

It's a four letter word used millions of times each day. Every single person has been given this word. Every single person knows that it exists. Every single person knows that it can be taken away in any given moment. Somehow, it is possible to package every single moment a person ever has into one four letter word. This word has more meaning than any other word that has ever existed.

Life. New lives begin every single second. People are drawn to babies, because there is something so refreshing in knowing that this little, tiny person will grow into someone who has dreams, hopes, and plans. Each new life gives us reason to hope. Each birth gives us reason to look back on our own lives, and wonder how much of a difference we've made, or will ever make, or if we even matter at all. Life is a funny thing, isn't it? We begin it completely naked, scared, crying, and alone, and we spend the rest of it making sure we are not any of those things at the moment of our death.

Life. It begins, it exists, and then it's over. And, the biggest hope that we have for each life is that it is not wasted. And, whether or not we want to admit it, each of us struggle each day to prove that our life means something to the world. Each of us are terrified that our life will not matter after our death. Every person who is ever born strives to do something worth remembering. We're always on the search to find our way, our fate, our reason for existance, and it's almost as if we never feel worthy of the life we've been given. We go out of our way to convince ourselves that we are loved by others, and that we deserve that love. The truth is, I'm not sure that there is a single person out there who makes the most of their life. There comes a time in every life where we ask, "What's the point?". Sometimes, this question surfaces after we lose someone that we love. Other times, this question is asked when we lose a part of ourselves. We often get lost in a sea of our life's twists and turns, and it's at this moment when we figure out that it is not possible to determine the worth of our own life. And, we begin to realize that after a certain amount of time, love, laughter, and memories, we stop being a group of people who each have separate lives. At this very moment, we morph into a group of people who's lives have all meshed together. One life fails to matter without the next. And, we tend to find comfort in the fact that our life is no longer defined by what it is when it stands alone.

They say that the best things in life are free. This statement is often made after one finds hope in the innocent words of children, hears the lyrics of a favorite song, or looks into the eyes of their true love. And, if you're really lucky, the luckiest person in the world, this person will love you back. And, it is in moments like these that we truly believe that these wonderful parts of life are free.

They also say that nothing in life comes without cost. This, in a way that I cannot explain, is just as true as the statement above. Life is a series of images, decisions, conflict, crossroads, and ideas. And, no matter what we do, there is no way to make the right choices concerning each of these things. Which images are worth remembering? Do we remember the moments that made us the happiest? Or, do we choose to retain the memories of the times that taught us lessons? What is more important? Sometimes, they pass us by like cars on the interstate. Other times, we're stunned, and these instances become more than just images, or decisions, or conflicts. These instances become the moments that live on forever, and we aren't given the chance to say if they matter enought to be remembered. And, no matter how hard we may try to forget, we aren't able, and we are not meant to. These moments become who we are, and in turn, add definition to our lives.

Life. Life is a journey, if you choose for it to be. Life is an ongoing adventure, if you want. Sometimes, we choose to travel alone. Other times, we allow others to read the map for us, and interpret just what direction should be taken next. Often, along this journey, we allow others to take the wheel, as well as our hearts, and it's in the times that we have the least control that we learn the most about ourselves. If we make the wrong decision, then the person who reaches the destination at the end of the journey will not be who we're meant to be at all. It's easy to get lost out there, and if this ever does happen, there are only two choices. We can either find the person that we used to be, or leave that person in the past forever. Sometimes, taking the wrong paths and making the wrong decisions really are better for us than taking the right path and making the right decisions. Sometimes it's necessary to step outside of the person you've been in order to find out who you're meant to be, or who you want to be, or who you already are.

Do we make the moments in our life? Or, do the moments in our life make us? How long does it take to change a life? Can a life change in an instant, or are the events that lead to the certain instand responsible for the changes that it causes? Have you ever wondered what marks our time here? If just one life can make a real impact on the world? Or, if the every day choices that we make really matter in the long run? Are our fates predetermined, or do we ultimately choose the person we are when it's all said and done? Perhaps life only really matters because these questions exist in each of our minds. They give us reason to get out of bed each morning. They give us reason to keep our eyes and minds open. They give us reason to search for meaning. They give us meaning to find love. These questions don't ever have to be answered in order to really matter. In the case of life, the real meaning is found in the chances we take in our search for the answers, and the people we meet and love along the way.

Life should not be wasted with efforts to make it last forever. Every life, at some point, has to end. This will never change. There is an end to everything, and this fact alone should prove the importance of every minute of every single life. Do not fear the end. Every song has high notes, low notes, background music, and lead vocals. And, without each of these vital parts, a song could not possibly be complete. In each life, there are times that we experience high moments, and there are times where we've never felt lower. Sometimes, we must take the back seat and watch someone else become the center of attention. Other times, we must have the courage to speak out and step in front of the rest. Every song has an ending, but does this mean that we shouldn't enjoy each note from the beginning to the end?

Life. Maybe it's just a four letter world. But, when each letter stands alone, it has no meaning. However, when put together in the right order, it means EVERYTHING.

Meagan's 21st Birthday :)

Who I Am.

You know what I've found out? People either dislike you because they don't know you well enough or because they know you too well and they don't like what they've come to know. I'm not sure which I'd prefer, or which is better or worse, but to me, someone disliking you because they don't know enough just isn't fair. So, I'm going to through myself out there, again, and let you choose for yourself.

When I first wake up, I immediately look at the clock and wonder if I'm able to sqeeze even five more minutes of sleep in. I love sleep, I do. And, it's in the minutes when you're trying to relax before falling asleep that you have the best talks with yourself and God, if you choose. Sometimes, before I sleep, I replay the day in my head and wonder if I could have done something different. Of course, I always find that I could have, and sometimes I lose sleep over that. But, it's necessary, and I always wonder if other people are just like me. So, I look at some people who can fall asleep as soon as their head hits the pillow, and I find myself envious that I worry too much to do the same.

As much as you may have heard different, I absolutely hate conflict. I know that I have the skills I need to defend myself, but I don't like to be put in situations where I feel it necessary to use those skills. I hate it. I hate questioning myself over and over, always wondering if I'm in the wrong and I'm just too blind and stubborn to see it. I hate wondering if I have falsely judged someone, like we all have, and if maybe I lost a good friend because I misunderstood the tone of someone's voice, or just met them on a really terrible day. Maybe it's the beauty of life that you just never know what someone else has gone through on any given day. Maybe they call things "the beauty of life" because everyone feels too shitty to say that it just plain sucks that we can't know everything. Possibly, we'd never learn if we had all the information up front, and the beauty of making new friends and getting to know them would be taken from our lives completely. Like I said earlier, I worry too much. I think too much. I always have, and unless I take my xanax like I'm told, I always will.

I did not become very close to my parents until last year. Of course, I always loved them, and they always loved me and went out of their way to make sure I had what I needed. I took advantage of them on a daily basis, and they finally got tired of it. They made me live in a shitty apartment, put me on a budget, and told me that until I showed them respect, they wouldn't go back to being as generous as they were before. I thought that I hated them for that. But then, I went through some really hard times. I honestly had no will to live. And, instead of blaming me for causing my own problems, they were there for me. They did everything they possibly could to make things better. My mom would drive up just to take me to dinner and let me cry to her, then drive right back. And, she dropped everything to do this pretty much any time I asked her. They did not judge me for what happened. THey just loved me. And, you know what? I really loved them, too. I'll always remember the way they reacted. Sometimes, the best feeling in the world is when you expect the worst from someone, and they blow your mind by giving you the best they have to offer. That's what I'm doing for them this year. I hope they're proud of me.

Besides my parents, I have a close relationship with my friends. They are honestly like family to me, because we've all dealt with some really adult issues. They have seen me at my worst, and loved me just as much as they do when I am at my best, whenever that is. You know what the absolute best thing a friend can do for THEIR friend who is in trouble? Listen. Just listen to all of the things you've heard a thousand times. Listen to them cry. Listen to them doubt themselves. Because, you know what? You can't change someone's mind who is hurting that much. You can only be there for them and listen. And THAT is exactly what my very best friends did for me. And, I feel like shit because I can't always be there for them now, and I can't stand it. I hope that one day I can be as great of a friend to all of you (you know who you are) as you were to me. I'm telling you, straight up, I wouldn't still be here if y'all had not been around like you were. You saved me. Please, one day, if it ever calls for it, let me save you. I will.

I'm not proud of myself very often. I actually have a very low self esteem and it's nobody's fault but my own. My heart has been broken on numerous occations, and yes, it's just as bad as you hear it is. I'm an over emotional mess sometimes, but I can't change that. I think that one day it will help me on my journey to be a writer that people can connect with. I love to write, it's my therapy for myself, and I just hope that I can make a career out of it. But, I'm scared that I won't be able to. I'm scared that I'm busting my ass for nothing. I'm scared of what the future holds. I'm scared of losing another friend that I care about. I am just scared, and that's okay, because I'm human, and we're all scared sometimes. And, that's what I'm saying. These flaws we have aren't really flaws at all. They are characteristics. They make ME, me! Just like they make YOU the person that YOU ARE, too! And, it's okay to not be perfect. Embrace it. Love it. Your friends and family obviously do. I guess that's the hardest thing in life, loving yourself. And, it sucks, because you can't truly love anyone else until you form that true bond with yourself.

And then there's Russell. I remember the way my stomach dropped to my feet the first time I ever laid eyes on him. He has these deep eyes, and when he looks into mine, I feel like he can see straight into my soul. He came into my life exactly when he was meant to, and he gave me the courage I needed to walk away from someone who constantly made my life miserable. I'd been praying for so long for any sign from God that would let me know that everything was going to be okay. I will always believe that meeting Russell in that Bible as Literature class was nothing less than the sign I'd so desparately been looking for. He believes in me, and what's more than that is that he believes in US! While this may sound like just another ordinary young love, I am determined to prove that it is so much more than that. You see, from the very second we realized that our feelings towards each other were mutual, there has been this crazy passion surrounding us at all times. I crave him, even. I miss him every second that he's not around. I hate hearing silence in my house, and am always so happy when he comes back and holds me in his arms. He is extremely brilliant, unbelievably talented, honest, genuine, compassionate, generous, deep, affectionate, respectful, motivated, eager to please, thoughtful, considerate, gorgeous, and everything I've ever wished for. He is my very best friend, and nothing is as valuable to me as the memories we've made so far, the laughter we've shared, the talks about our hopes and dreams, and our plans for the future. Russell has been a blessing in my life from day one. He showed me that I am worth so much more than I ever thought. He knows every single thing about my past, and does not judge me for any of it. He does not try to change me, he just simply loves me. He is absolutely the best thing that has ever happened to me, and being with him has allowed me to let go of all of the regret I had concerning certain choices I've made. I now understand that I did the right thing, and this gives me proof that there is always reason to have faith in God and the trials He puts you through. All I had to offer him was a pile of pieces of my broken heart, and somehow, he has managed to put it all back together again. I will never doubt that my heart is safe with him, and it is now his to keep forever.

Finally, I want to say that I'm only human. I'm sure there are some of you that I have talked badly about, or offended, or just plain out been a bitch to. And, I'm finally at the point in my life where I can honestly say that I am sorry. You know, Maya Angelou says, "People will forget what you said. People will forget what you did. But, people will never forget the way you made them feel." It's so true, isn't it? Because, I know that I've been hurt. I know that I've been so angry at some people that I was willing to make a fool out of myself and raise hell at anytime or anyplace. But, I see how stupid that all is now. There's no other way to describe it. I was just being stupid. I want to be remembered in a good way, and I know that I've got a lot of work before I'll feel confident about this. Just remember that life goes on, but grudges shouldn't. So, whatever grudges I'm carrying... they're gone. Really. They have been for a while. And, it feels good. It's time to just enjoy life, because when we get down to it, it's so rare, short, and for the most part, beautiful.

So, this is who I am. Maybe you already knew. Or, possibly, you had no idea at all. At any rate, thank you for taking your time to find out.

Love,
Haley

there's this new thing I'm trying...

Today, I decided that I was going to start keeping up with all of the funny and random things that happen to me everyday. If you're interested in what my life is like on a daily basis, you can check it out at asmartblonde.livejournal.com. I will continue to post things that I write on this blog. The livejournal is just where I'll write what goes on in my life each day. I did not want to use blogspot for that purpose. Anyway, I hope everyone has a great weekend! ROLL TIDE!

-haley

"and they're always glad you came..."

In the past 21 years, I have seen many things that I never expected to see. I have heard many compliments and insults. I have felt every different emotion that a human being can possibly feel. I've traveled to all kinds of places with many different types of people. I have broken the law, run from my troubles, and had bad intentions. I've made friends that I cannot imagine my life without, as well as attended funerals for people that I never imagined would be without life. I've had my heart broken, and I've broken the hearts of others. I've cried for help, and I've had my best friends cry on my shoulder. I know what it feels like to be lost, and I understand the joy that comes with being found again. I have done many things that I promised I'd never do, and while some of these unexpected decisions came with bad consequences, others opened doors that I normally would have walked right past. I've been everywhere and nowhere all at once. Through all of these ups and downs, there has always been one place where I felt safe and understood. This place is Alpine Baptist Church.

As soon as I walk through the front doors of my church, I immediately feel as if I'm where I belong. To be able to see so many warm, familiar faces brings so much comfort to my tried and tired heart. This is the kind of comfort that surrounds you and wraps around you like the blanket from your childhood. This kind of comfort, while both rare and beautiful, is often never noticed until it is unavailable and/or left behind. Some find this comfort in the way the morning sun shines through the tall windows of our church and reflects off of the solid white walls. For others, this comfort can be found just by deeply breathing in the scent of the classic country church. As for myself, I find comfort in the memories. Whenever I get the chance, I like to sit in the third row from the back. If I just briefly close my eyes, I'm taken back to the days when I was the little girl with long, blonde hair running out of Sunday School with chocolate all over my dress. I remember how Wayne's contagious laughter could fill an entire room. I remember being so young, and always wondering if one day I'd find a man who would look at me the same way Belton always looked at Iva. I remember the day Lisa passed away, and in this very building, Gail found the strength and support that she needed in order to make it through such a hard time. I remember the Easter egg hunts, tennis courts, beach trips, Fall Festivals, and the Sunday we brought Children's Church back to the pulpit. I find comfort in remembering how lucky I was to grow up in such an accepting and nurturing environment.

Because of all that I've seen and experienced at Alpine Baptist Church, I've grown into a 21 year old who believes in acceptance, tolerance, and equality. I believe that being beautiful on the inside is more important than being beautiful on the exterior. I know how it feels to be loved. I believe that it is perfectly normal to ask for help, as well as help those who ask for it from you. I know that there is power in prayer for all those who choose to believe in Him. I know that my future salary will never determine my future happiness, nor will it ever change God's plan for me. I know that it is okay to ask questions, as long as I know that I will find the answers to these questions the moment that I'm meant to. I will always believe that I would not be the person that I am becoming without the influence of this church.

The heart of this church is found inside each of it's members, and it stays with you forever. I'm proud to carry this with me everywhere that I go. As I grow older and begin a new chapter of my life somewhere else, I know I'll continue to find comfort in knowing that I always have somewhere to come to and find what so many spend their entire lives searching for.

Love,
Haley

concerning:: self respect

For the absolute longest time, I questioned what love is and how much it really can affect your life and the choices that you make. What I've come to find is that it is completely possible to meet the one person who, while kissing you, makes chillbumps run up your spine as the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. These kisses from this perfect person make you forget what time it is, or if the concept of time really exists at all, or if it ever even did. During this most perfect kiss, you are blind to everything that surrounds you, and in this one moment, you wish you could freeze time forever. However, it is absolutely necessary for the kiss to end and for the clock to start taking records of what minute it is, and which hour of your life you are currently enjoying. These kisses are a rarity, and they are this way for a reason. The most important thing is the person who is sharing the kiss with you. And, when you take the second to really look into their eyes, you realize that they are in your life for a reason. Because you met this person, your life will never be the same, and you'll never want it to. You'll crave this person's arms around you, because when they are, you finally feel safe from all of the things you've been desperately trying to escape. And, for the first time in years, you can inhale and exhale freely. This person, this man, this godsend, really loves you for the person you are, and sees every possibility in the world every time they see you smile. You see, I'm lucky enough to have been through bad relationships. I thank God for knowing ahead of time that through the darkest point of my life, there was light ahead. And, I saw this light the first time I ever saw his face. And, from this, for once, I know every single thing I've ever needed to know. I've never been more content in my life. I feel safe. I feel needed. I feel so much LOVE surrounding me each day, and while most of it comes from him, a tiny fraction of this love comes from the fact that because of him, I finally found reason to respect myself. And, when you respect yourself, you can love yourself. Because of this, I finally am allowed to love someone else with all of my broken, tattered, and ever so flawed heart. He fills me up to my very core and I couldn't possibly be happier if I tried. There is no amount of money, power, fame, or promises that could ever tempt me to leave his side. For the first time in my entire life, I know I was in the right place at the right time, even if it was just once. Sometimes, however, once is enough.

A day with the best boyfriend EVER!

To a friend in Heaven :)

Hey, you!

I've been thinking a lot about you lately. Today, it was raining and I thought about two summers ago at the lake when you jumped off of the roof in the rain. I'd never seen anybody look more alive than you did at that very moment. It seems so weird that you're not here anymore, even though most of us haven't admitted that it will be a long time before we see your smiling face again. We all still catch ourselves waiting on you to come in the door when we're all together... and even though we don't see it happen, in a way, we know that you're there. It still doesn't seem fair that you had to go, but we've all learned to trust God's plan for each of us. You brought us closer to him, although it took us all questioning his existance before we truly found him inside of our hearts. We know that He must have needed you up there much more than we did down here, even though that's often hard to imagine.

I have to wonder, though, what you think of everything going on down here. We're all getting older, taking different paths that lead us away from home and towards new places and ideas. We're changing, see, and it makes us think about the paths you'd be taking, and the person you would be today. Instead, you've taken on a new form that we'll also take one day. So many of us have joined you already. There was a third, a fourth, and a fifth after you and I wonder if it's a metaphor for the way that we live, or don't live, as some of us choose to do even though the opportunity is still them for them. We're all breaking apart here, and I wonder what you think is happening to us. Is this what is in the books? Are we meant to be thrown apart by jealousy, anger, hate, and bad intent? What is going on here? Sometimes I think that all it would take to bring everyone back together would be you walking through the door, saying something completely off the wall as you often did, smiling from ear to ear with a heart as pure as gold, as yours always was. While our country is at war, many of us are also at war with ourselves and with each other, even though we've always been like a family. Is it meant to happen this way? Am I trying to stop what is ultimately inevitable? Nobody's the same, and I know that in some way, you can see it. Help us out down here, because we're obviously struggling with some pretty intense battles. Some of our hearts are in great need of repair, and it would be nice if you could ask the man upstairs for some assistance for those who still miss you every single day.

I still don't think that it's right. I still don't think it's fair that I can look outside and see the sun shining through the clouds and you can't. You're beyond the clouds, past the stars, and straight into the land that we all strive to end up in, as well. I'll never stop thinking that you should still be here, and I'm not the only one. I'll never forget the way that we sobbed for days and found solace and comfort in each other in your passing. You did a great thing for us, friend. You made us question how much we would be missed, as well as the legacy we would leave behind. You showed us that when our hearts feel empty, we should turn to each other in order for it to be filled up again with hope, faith, love, and the ability to dream like there was no tomorrow. You reminded us that tomorrow is a dream, not a promise, and it will NEVER be guaranteed, no matter how much money we make, or how beautiful we are on the inside or out, or how much luck we think we've been given. You and the rest of our gang in heaven gave us the best gift we could ever find it possible to receive, although I must admit that it took us awhile to finish unwrapping it. You gave us knowledge that only people who have seen death and felt that type of sorrow can have.

Thank you for watching over us, even though we don't always deserve it. Sometimes, when we're all together and laughing, it's like you never even left us for a second. You and all that you loved lives on in us, and we will NEVER forget the person that you were and the angel that you are for each of us. Friendships don't end just because lives do, and we are so thankful that you've continued to show us love and support from so many miles and steps away. We hope that you can still feel the love that we carry for you and your memory, as well. We love you so much and miss you just as much now as we did the day we got the worst phone call imaginable.

Your friend ALWAYS,
Haley