On watching snow fall:

I will be the last person on Earth to say the words "I love winter," but honestly, tonight I couldn't help loving a little part of it as I was driving home. And that is the stillness and delicateness of a fresh snowfall.

I don't think I've ever seen a city get more quiet than it did tonight, in the wee hours. (It's Friday, what can I say?) Provo is usually subdued around this time of night--I guess some people like to sleep or something--but tonight was different. Each and every snowflake, gently falling onto the fresh blanket, seemed to soften the world around it. I almost didn't want to breathe, for fear of ruining something so beautiful. (And I was sure that taking out my keys to open my apartment door was the noisiest thing in existence.) But sitting here, looking out my window, the world is peaceful. And that is something, although I never thought I'd say it, for which I must thank winter.

So, without further ado, thank you, my dark, dreary, thoughtful, graceful, soft, gentle friend.

Well folks, she's done it again.

Let's just say Miss Swift's new album is...

...amazing.

I knew I would see you today, but I went anyway. I couldn't bring myself to talk to you, though. It would've been too sad for me, too awkward for you. So we didn't talk, only brushed eyes with each other across the room. And that's okay, because that's how it is with life, and love.

I only wish that you would've said as much in your eyes as I was trying to tell you with mine.
But I saw, read, heard, nothing.

I don't know, maybe it's because you found a new voice for your eyes, one that I can't hear because it's meant for someone else. I just hope that she sees, listens to, soaks up every single thing they say--those brown eyes that I used to know. Because I don't know about this new voice, but the old one, it was the prettiest thing I ever knew.

Who knew that an insipid pop song could hit so close to home?

If you asked me

how I'm doing

I would say I'm doing just fine.

I would lie and say that you're not on my mind.

But I go out,

and I sit down

at a table set for two.

And finally I'm forced to face the truth.

No matter what I say, I'm

not over you.



{courtesy of ma dawg G-D-graw}

I'd just like you all to know,

This is probably the saddest, yet most beautiful, song that I know of.

The Shiz.

Hmm. Yep, sounds about right.

I found the above {totally rad} picture from this guy.

And let me just say, he is one KOOL KAT. And I rarely call people that, so just know that it is the HIGHEST of compliments, my friends.  

Here's another one of his posters (in the upper right corner):

The most perfect thing I've ever seen.

So check him out. And read his blog posts, because he's seriously the funniest.

I would really like to be that girl. But it turns out I can't.

"No sir, the girl really worth having

won't wait for anybody."

--F. Scott Fitzgerald



{It started out with a kiss. How did it end up like this?}

All I can say is...

Jef Holm, I want you.

You and your sexy, skateboard-riding, skinny-jean-wearing bod.

Why do you and Emily have to be so perfect for each other?? It's really too bad.

"Teeth are always in style." --Theo 'LeSieg'

Don't mind if I do, Mr. Geisel, thankyouverymuch.

Number one requirement for the huzzzby:

He must absolutely adore crossword puzzles, AND be willing to do them with me.

Haaaa okay, so, maybe it's not number ONE, but it's definitely up there. I worship crosswords. And if I were able to do them with someone I'm in love with, well, that would just make them ten times better.

Why Why Why.

Ugh ugh ugh.

I feel so damn sick sick sick

whenever I think about him him him.

Which I do, all the time time time.



What the devil is wrong with me?

Life is so ridiculously repetitive these days.

I just wish someone would make it stop.

Today's Read:

Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer

"They made for themselves a sanctuary from Trachimbrod, a habitat completely unlike the rest of the world. No hateful words were ever spoken, and no hands raised. More than that, no angry words were ever spoken, and nothing was denied. But more than that, no unloving words were ever spoken, and everything was held up as another small piece of proof that it can be this way, it doesn't have to be that way; if there is no love in the world, we will make a new world, and we will give it heavy walls, and we will furnish it with soft red interiors, from the inside out, and give it a knocker that resonates like a diamond falling to a jeweler's felt so that we should never hear it. Love me, because love doesn't exist, and I have tried everything that does."

"The more you love someone, he came to think, the harder it is to tell them."

"And this is what living next to a waterfall is like, Safran. Every widow wakes one morning, perhaps after years of pure and unwavering grieving, to realize she slept a good night's sleep, and will be able to eat breakfast, and doesn't hear her husband's ghost all the time, but only some of the time. Her grief is replaced with a useful sadness. Every parent who loses a child finds a way to laugh again. The timbre begins to fade. The edge dulls. The hurt lessens. Every love is carved from loss. Mine was. Yours is. Your great-great-great-grandchildren's will be. But we learn to live in that love."

It made me cry. And well, so does almost anything, but this one really did. Made me CRY.
As in, I had no choice in the matter.
......Make sense?

Well anyway, the point is,
golly freaking wolly, I wish I could write that well.

Unspeakable Thoughts.

Oh, you.

Man, you're really stinkin' cute. And your hair looked really kind of perfect today. Zac Efron status, you know. And I wanted so badly to flirt with you. But unfortunately, my understanding of that activity disappeared with my first love.

But then, I don't even know if you have a girlfriend. Sooo, how about you just receive, with a smile, my gawkish efforts at connecting, and then do all the flirting for me, filling in the clumsy spaces I create.

That would be a swell situation. For both of us, don't you think? Ha. I don't even know anymore. I don't trust myself with boys really. But with you it might be different, no?

Ah well. Just read my mind, okay? ;) THEN tell me what you think.

A Guide to Girls.

Well. Let me tell you a little secret.

Us girls, we sometimes say that we hate boys. But that is in fact nowhere near the truth.

We say that because we like to think it'll make us feel better.

Loving boys--that--is what we really hate.

Because, if we didn't love boys,

then we wouldn't have to hurt so much when we find out they don't love us back.

Because, if we didn't love boys,

then we wouldn't have to feel the sting that creeps up into our eyes

when we see them holding hands with someone else.

Because, if we didn't love boys,

then we wouldn't have to fall asleep every night to a picture of them behind our eyelids,

all fuzzy and blurred because of the tears mixed in with it.
Because, if we didn't love boys,

then we wouldn't have to come to the realization every day that they have this uncanny ability

to get over girls a lot easier than we can with boys.

Because, if we didn't love boys,

then, when we lose them, we wouldn't have to feel an overwhelming need to do something drastic

in order to forget them, like changing our sexual orientation or dyeing our hair fuchsia.
Because, if we didn't love boys,
then we wouldn't have to sit there, completely unable to do anything else but just sit and wonder
why, why, why am I not good enough and she is?

But, if we didn't love boys, then I guess the earth would surely have to stop spinning, because, as I recall, love makes the world go 'round. (And, side note, we would be condemned to either freeze on the perpetually dark half of the earth or burn to death from the overwhelming sunlight on the other half.) So boys, we'll keep you. As long as you promise that maybe we won't always hate to love boys--that maybe someday, we might actually like it. ;)

Welcome to Facebook-aholics Anonymous.

Good afternoon. My name is Laura. And I, too, am a recovering Facebook-aholic.

I am happy to report that I have gone one whole MONTH without even touching Facebook (except for one teensy second to change my profile picture... cause I'm vain like that BUT it doesn't count because I didn't look at anything besides my own page). And the effects are as follows:

• Much more free time, which I have put to good use exercising, reading, hangin' wid mah besties, doing crossword puzzles (one a day keeps the Alzheimer's away), and playing the piano
• Much less time spent dwelling on You-Know-Who, probably as a result of no longer seeing his name and pictures everywhere
• Much more smiling

So there ya go, folks. Seems like it might be a good idea for some of you other Facebook addicts out there... ;) Ha. I just think it's worth it. Especially because I still get e-mails if there's an event I need to know about or if someone is trying to contact me! Which is just perfect. That way, I stay informed while never having to come anywhere near the plague that is social networking. Huzzah for being sober!

{P.S.}

I really despise Facebook, by the way. Just in case you all were wondering. I seriously can't stand all the ridiculous things people will do on there to get attention. And I'm not saying I'm blameless, because I have definitely made my fair share of attention-craving remarks on the old FB. But with some people it's just so unbearably blatant that with every single thing they write and every single picture they post, they are seeking solely for as many likes as possible. And that drives me absolutely bonkers.

Blemished faces
and anxious hearts.

All this bloody youth.

Only a Pipe Dream.

THAT IS MY BIRTHPLACE, PEOPLE.

And I've never been back.

B          O          S          T          O          N

Today a boy told me I was sooo beautiful, more so than even his mom.

And, coming from a 5-year-old momma's boy, I'd say that is quite the compliment. ;)

Ah well. At least someone thinks I am, right? Ha.

I'll find you someday, bread boy.

{the dandelion in the spring... the bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction}

-----

"And then he gives me a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me."

In my dream last night, I watched a little girl, not older than 8 years old, as she told her teacher that she didn't love the boy down the street; that she never really had.

Afterwards, she went home and cried
because she had promised her mother she would never tell a lie.

More than every once in a while...

I get really tempted to say a certain word that rhymes with schmidt.

I crave coffee. I don't know how that's possible because I've never even had it.

And I kinda just wanna make out with twenty-seven strangers and call it good.


I got tired of being the good girl. But someone once told me, the only road to happiness is goodness.
And I'd have to agree with that.

Just gotta keep fighting, eh?

I watched that man,
the jumbled man with sad hands
and empty eyes.

I saw him worrying tiredly about everything that had gone wrong.
Wondering frantically about how he was going to save a withering situation.
I wished I could tell his wife, his children, how much I could see that he loved them.

He didn't know anyone was watching.

And I guessed to myself, well, I guess I have it pretty good.

Ew Gross Love.

"Bad love letters beg for love back. Good love letters ask for nothing.

This, I'm pleased to announce, is my first good love letter to you."

Stumbled across this little ditty while watching a silly little movie called Waiting for Forever. It's not that great of a movie, but, ya know, it's cute. AND it was filmed in Utah! How cool are we, right??

Anyway, hearing this really tugged at me. Because love has a conniving way of convincing us that we deserve something in return for the love we give. I know I fall into this trap every single day. I hate remembering how selfish I've been to the people I love. And my mouth is all clogged up with the mounds of sorries I should've said (or, more appropriately, should've shown).

It breaks my heart to see the people who give everything to their loved ones, when they know for a fact they won't be receiving any love in return. It's like the mother in Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. Or the father in The Pursuit of Happyness. Like Samwise Gamgee and Peeta Mellark. My mom. My dad. Like Christ.

It breaks my heart, and yet, it's all that I want to be. I yearn to be that selfless, that compassionate, that giving, that loving. I hope I can be someday. So I'll just keep on trying.

HAHAHAHAHAHA.

Okay, does anyone else find it really hilarious that in the spam box on Gmail, the ads that Google puts up are for Spam recipes?

Who knew that Spam was such a versatile food, right??

    Spam Fajitas - Serves 8, add extra salsa if desired
    Spam Veggie Pita Pockets - Serves 8
    Spam Vegetable Strudel - Bake 20 minutes or until golden, serve with soy sauce
    Vineyard Spam Salad - Combine grapes, spam, peapods and onions in large bowl
    Spam Swiss Pie - Bake 45-55 minutes or until eggs are set
    Ginger Spam Salad - Serves 1, refrigerate overnight
    Spam Quiche - Makes 4 servings
    Creamy Spam Broccoli Casserole - Makes 8 servings
    Savory Spam Crescents - Bake 12-15 minutes or until golden brown

And if none of those lovely TMI descriptions have managed to make you vomit all over your computer... well, this one will.

    French Fry Spam Casserole - Bake 30-40 minutes

Ohh how we do love Gmail and its disgusting advertising tendencies.

Just Listen.

Yeah. It's from Like Crazy again. You could say I'm obsessed.

If nothing else, listen to 2:50 on.

Guys. FAMILY HISTORY.

Family history, man! I'm serious you guys. I know, I know, it sounds like the most boring thing on the planet, but in FACT, it's really so fun! Especially when you find fantastic gems like these:

Awwww! Is that not the most precious little face you've ever seen?! That is my mother, people! Gahhh.

Such an angel.

Grandpa Gene holding my mommy. Oh man. There's just something about a father holding his baby that absolutely melts my heart.

Another one of Mom. Ahhh, that coat!! Absolutely darling.

More of my mom. Sorry, I know it seems like I'm obsessed, but I can't get over how cute that semi-boyish-looking haircut is on her!

Cute little Katie and Clarkie. And the glasses of course. Ohhhh the glasses.

Bonnie, Clark, and Wayne. We love matching outfits, yes we do.

Meet Christian, the cutest, chubbiest little boy in all the world.

Although Steven could probably give him a run for his money.

Aaaaand here's one of Christian dressed in pretty princess attire. Think of that what you will.

My stunning mother. Ow ow! Just look at that sultry face.

Bonnie looking distressed. Oh, and do those overalls look familiar to you? Well, that's probably because Clark and Wayne were wearing them earlier. Boy, do we love hand-me-downs. Especially when they're unisex!

And then there's Clark, who's just always been a stud.

Bonnie, la belle ballerine.

Cutie-patootie Ali.

Here's some of my ridiculously handsome grandfather.

And then Grandma and Grandpa. The handsome couple.

Oh, and we mustn't forget Daddy-poo (that's Katie he's holding) and his beautiful glasses.

And of course, the moment I know you've all been waiting for (HA)....

Les photos de moi.

Okay, am I just completely self-absorbed or was I literally THE cutest baby you have ever seen in your life???


That's me?! Hhhwhaaat???

With the baby bwudder.

Swee yeaws owd!!

Me and my momma. Yeah I know I'm vain, but there were just too many cute pictures!

......And then I became an awkward child. Ohhh dear. Haha. And don't worry, I'm still just that awkward, but now maybe a little older-looking. Why couldn't the cuteness have stayed??

And last but not least, me and Al-Pal. Can't you just tell how much she loves me? Ha.

Like Crazy.

Guys.

It was so good. 

Infinitely,

unfathomably,

crazy good.

Every single minute, however unbearable.

The entire thing I cried. That's how crazy good it is. That's how crazy real.

I am the very farthest from an expert, but it seems to me that the mark of a really great work of art, in comparison to a good one, is the difference between sympathy and empathy. The sad truth is that although people tell us to learn from others' mistakes, it will never absolutely stick unless we make the mistakes ourselves. I think it's the same kind of idea here. It's nearly impossible to portray something that people will understand unless they have experienced that sort of situation themselves.

But this--

this one,

it makes you feel.

No matter who you are.

Every single emotion they feel on the screen.

Only, there's not a screen anymore.

It's just you, and you've become them.

And you know exactly how they feel, because you're living it.

***

"I thought I understood it, that I could grasp it, but I didn't, not really. Only the smudgeness of it; the pink-slippered, all-containered, semi-precious eagerness of it. I didn't realize it would sometimes be more than whole, that the wholeness was a rather luxurious idea. Because it's the halves that halve you in half. I didn't know, don't know, about the in-between bits; the gory bits of you, and gory bits of me."

***

I really, really love this song. Like crazy, right?? Like crazy.

Here's the thing, blogging world.

The thing is, today marks the end of all my dramatic hullabaloo. I think we've all had enough of it.

-Êtes-vous d'accord?

-Mais oui, s'il vous plaît!

-Oh là là, moi aussi.

I guess I started this blog so that I could have a place to just write and write and write--to no one at all. No one that knew me, no one that could hold anything over my head, no one that would take what I'd say and run with it. Except, I chose to do it on a blog instead of a journal because I needed to feel like I was talking to someone, even if it was only, perhaps, a girl in Russia, my age, who kind of understood my roller coaster of a life. And it did help, a little, to tell someone I didn't know. That's probably the main reason I haven't really told anyone about my blog. It helped me sort out all my unruly emotions. So, if you're reading this, chances are I don't know you, and I just want to thank you for reading, listening, and being someone that I can talk to. But from now on, I'd like to provide you with more of the simple joys and silver linings of life, instead of all the drama.

Because, as Mr. Charlie Fink would say, blue skies are coming.

But unlike Charlie here, I can't really say, "This is the last song that I write while you're even on my mind."

Because the truth is, he always will be.

I just need to stop bringing him into every single thing I do.

I just need to make this the best summer yet. Full of sunny bike rides and good books.

Like these:

Yikes-a-bee.

Yeah... sorry about that little fit of anger back there. I guess it was pretty immature and juvenile of me. Especially because it's not him OR the girl that I should be taking it out on. It's really just my own problem.

Moral of the story? I spend waaay too much time on Facebook.

The solution? I, Laura Clare, am going to abstain from Facebook for... the rest of time. Or... however long I can stand it. (Which will hopefully be... the rest of time.)

In a few weeks I'll let you know how my impossible quest is coming.

What I wish I could say to him, but won't.

Hey. You.
Yeah. You.

Just so you know, all those damn posts about your damn new girlfriend on stupid damn Facebook aren't making it any damn easier to get over you.

I know you don't care, but... I thought you should know.

I'm sorry; I had to. He's just the cutest.

Apparently I'm one of those girls.

You know, the sort that pine over boys.

{well, for me, just boy}

Well, you know what?

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that I'm weak.

You're right though;

I should be stronger.

All the time I wish I could be.

But sometimes,

the tears just come.

Hellooooooo, Sin City.

Okay so, yes, maybe it is the drugs, sex, and gambling capital of the world, but I actually kind of adore Las Vegas. Go ahead, call me an apostate. But really, what's not to love?

I mean, I don't know about you, but a city that's home to...

• The Bellagio fountains
• The biggest H&M in the world
• A B-U-tiful LDS temple
• The family of my fabulous roommate, Kelsey
• The New York skyline (right?? oh... oh wait... it's not real... well, looks about the same, it counts)

sounds pretty stinkin' great to me.

The only downside is that, if you value at all the cleanliness of your mind, you kind of have to avoid looking at all billboards, sides of vehicles, and the floor. But, never fear; it's an easy fix. Just look at the sky! Ha. And if this hasn't convinced you, how about you just have a look at these pictures and drool over how AWESOME we look and how much FUN we're having! Uhhh-huh. Yep. Go ahead. You'll see.

Rachie, Jesus, Kelsey, Me

Me, Jesus, Rachel, Kelsey, Fern

See? Pure joy right thurrr.

I cannot find the heart I gave to you.

It's just like, it gets way too hard to stand, sometimes. Or at least that's what we tell ourselves. And then we look back, and it turns out we did stand it. I think as humans we are a lot stronger than we give ourselves credit for.

Especially the heart. If the heart is what feels emotional pain, how is it possible that more of them don't just give up? It's so hard to think of all those people who have gone through absolutely unimaginable heartbreak. All of that suffering concentrated in such a small space--no bigger than your fist?? I swear, the heart must be the strongest thing in the world. I guess that's what they mean when they say they have a heavy heart. Our heart holds up all these burdens, and sometimes we don't even notice it. But then, when it has to carry more than it can hold, and it's just about to burst, it lowers itself ever so gently and takes a rest on our insides, to take some of the weight off. And that's when you feel it, the weight of it all. And everything becomes dark; heavy.

And sometimes, it does give up. Rare times, though. Most times, it goes on without a complaint. Keeping us alive; soaking up the pain.

Sometimes I get on Tumblr for hours at a time and find a lot of really cheesy quotes that are sadly irresistible.

"He wrote... 'I look up at my star, and let the energy from my hopes and wishes, resonate throughout the universe. And at that moment, I hoped you were looking at that same star'. Well, maybe she was. Maybe, just maybe, she was out for a walk at the same time that night. Then, early in the morning before the sun came up, she saw a shooting star streak across the dark sky. Maybe that star captured the energy from his hopes and wishes and darted across the sky searching just for her."

"Put your hands on her face; look deep into her eyes, so deep that she can feel it in her soul. And with more conviction than you ever have before, tell her you love her... more than the sun loves to shine and more than the birds love to sing. Promise her that if she will stay with you forever, that you will treat her with more love and respect than she could ever imagine and that your love for her will be as strong a million years from now as it is today. Then kiss her so tenderly that it melts her heart."

"If only there could be an invention, that bottled up a memory, like scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then, when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living the moment all over again."

"Have you ever wondered about the things we tell ourselves before we fall asleep? We whisper the words in the dark, telling ourselves that we're happy, or that he's happy, that people will change their minds or that we will change our own. We persuade ourselves that we can live without the people who have left, and the people whom we've left from. Each night before we fall asleep we lie to ourselves in a desperate hope that come morning, it will all be true."

"I regret that it takes a life to learn how to live."

"All this time he has been waiting for her to come back to him, but all this time she may have been waiting for something from him. Maybe she was waiting for him to fight for her but he gave up too easily. Maybe she wanted him to prove to her that she was more important to him than anyone else was and would be willing to make sacrifices to be with her. Maybe she was waiting for him to change something that caused big problems in their relationship. Now... maybe she got tired of waiting."

"Love is the act of committing oneself without guarantee... To give oneself completely in the hope that our love will produce love in the loved person... Love is an act of faith."

{sources: http://lifeneeded.tumblr.com/ and http://www.staypositive.me/}