Love Letter

Dear Boy,

I would like you to know a few things.

For starters, I like you, a lot. So don’t f*ck it up. I know I can be impulsive and fickle and, okay, yes, occasionally I spew molten crazy. But I’ll always be there for you no matter what and I just asking you please put down the xBox 360 controller and give me a freaking hug.

Now for the future, don’t freak out. It’s just a couple little points. I want a big fluffy dog. I don’t care if it chews up the table legs and scratches the door. You will back me up on it and we will cut back on an expensive date to send him or her to puppy obedience school.

Also, I will never ever consistently, maybe not even occasionally sleep in one of those slinky little silk and lacy nightgowns. I will however sleep in your old band shirts and flannel pants. I will droll on the pillow at my own leisure and you know what, if I accidentally droll on your shoulder when I wake up we will both laugh.

I know this isn’t really a request but, you gotta let me play with your hair. And don’t even try to lie, I know you love it.

When I get dolled up, I take my bloody time. Just remember no one asked Michelangelo what was taking so long on the ceiling.

And last but not least, I want you to kiss me everyday. Not just a peck, but a real kiss.

Hold me when I’m sad or angry or upset, let me rant about the bitchy women I have to be around and even my friends occasionally.  Let me rope you into watching those sappy chick flicks and you know I will always be down for the action adventure films.  Miss me when I gone and give me a hug when I come home.

Lots of love,

Me

Theory Four:

Everybody Lies.
We all do it. Sometimes you do it to save someone from pain that you may cause them from telling the truth. Sometimes because you're ashamed or embarrassed. Sometimes because it is just flat out easier than telling the truth.
What makes it worse is when you yourself have a back for lying, you're really good at it and sometimes you do it just to see if you can, because then you start to think about how easily you can do it and if other people around you are also lying. It's like gossip, if you're talking about someone, who's to say they aren't talking about you. There is also the karma aspect if your a liar yourself. You find yourself thinking "Holy cow, karma is going to bite me in the ass for all the lies i have told". Then you just go mad wondering who is lying to you. Is it the guy you're laying in bed with, or your best friend, or a loved one keeping something from you for your own good? With todays society and everyone we interact with you have to figure at any given moment someone is keeping something from you or just straight lying through their teeth. There's the classics of the dating scene: I don't think I can handle a relationship right now, I don't want to be exclusive until I can be 100% in it for you, and my personal favorite (which I have used on more than one occasion) I just need some time to figure myself out. Now I'm not saying these are always lies, but considering I've spun that crap before they could easily be cop outs.
Thank you Panic! At the Disco, but no, liars do NOT turn me on.
Just some food for thought.

ithinkimwritingabookbutimnotsosure

My name is Leah Schneider, though, now that I think of it if this ever get published I suppose that will have to change eh? I hope they change it to something fun like Penny, or Sadie (Sexy Sadie, anyone?) In all honestly I don’t see this getting much of anywhere. It’s a project. A task. I find myself with loads of free time currently so I need to fill it with something. Why shouldn’t this something be starting, and actually finishing a book? Anyway, back to a little backstory of me, and my story. See what I did there? Word play, funny right? Okay, not so much laugh out loud (lawl, if you will) hahaha funny. But it made me at least consider the idea of letting out a small nearly inaudible giggle. That could have something to do with the fact that it is past three a.m. and I am running on, well, not much. I’m rambling. Forgive me. My story, it’s not insanely exciting. Average family, average childhood, just average. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family, I have fantastic friends (or did) and I perfectly pleased with my life…thus far. I don’t have any sob story I feel I need to pass on and spoon feed the masses so others don’t have to feel ‘alone’ in their ‘situation’, or to try to under mind anyone into thinking their life is really ‘not that bad’ and they should be ‘grateful’ for what they’ve got. That’s not my style. I’m not trying to preach or shove my beliefs down anyone’s throat. I’m doing this for me. Maybe, and this is one behemoth of a maybe, but maybe just perhaps this will get somewhere. Maybe you’re reading it right now. If not, peachy. I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me.

I’m writing this because I am 18 years old, and I have no idea what to do with my life, and I know there is absolutely no way I am the only one in this position! That and this is a great way to yank all those little voices and annoyances and witty remarks out of my brain and put them down on something solid. So here goes nothing, attack ‘til they crack, don’t give up, shoot for the moon and even if you miss you’ll land among the stars, I figure a pep talk was in order. Cheerio. Happy reading, and to myself: Happy Writing, don’t you dare delete this, finish it so you’ll have something to read to your 37 cats in 60 years.

Theory Three:

Some people actually want you and some are busy trying to convince themselves that they do.

Marshmallow Fluff Dreams

The thought of being an author is not so much a glamorous one as it is and bright shiny one. Like when a crow seeing something shiny and it is just lust for it? Like when I go to Aldo and see that pair of Italian leather boots worth more than my ’95 Mercury, I literally lust for them. It’s pure want, I covet those writers who just sit around in their lofts or country cottages and write. All. Day. Long. Would it not be fantastic to have your name on a New York Times bestseller list? To be legitimately published, travel from city to city and country-to-country signing books? But it’s really difficult to actually sit down and not only have the patience and drive to finish an entire book but to also have it be good? No one honestly expects an eighteen year old to write an award-winning novel. The just doesn’t happen. I mean, I have the attention span of a small rodent. To be completely honest I tried writing at least four other ‘books’ before this. And if I didn’t get stuck right about here, not even half a page in, then I got really stuck forty pages in. After countless hours of obsessing and re-reading and brainstorming. I procrastinated by making iTunes playlists. I set dead lines for myself. I told my friends they needed to pressure me into finishing something. But eventually I ideas ran dry. I would get that tight feeling in my abdomen like when you are really anxious for someone to come over so you try reading or scrubbing the stove or pumicing your feet but nothing holds your attention so you just end up thinking in turbo-speed-run-on-sentences, and just sitting on the edge of the couch checking your phone and the front door over and over. You know? It is an awful lot like the feeling I am getting now. Fantastic.

            Currently I have laundry to put away, laundry to wash, a bed to make, dishes that need washing. But I’m sitting here, just typing away. The fact that I have gotten this far so smoothly is rather encouraging. When ever I would come up with a ‘story’ to write I would just poke at it. I would poke holes in the plot, the rhythm, the length. Lucky for me, right now I have no plot and my rhythm is one hundred percent stream of consciousness paced. After failed attempts of trying to decide on a topic to write on that I was really passionate about I stated thinking. Well, what do I like to read? Romance novels, cute funny silly books about young women and quirky guys, I don’t want to write that. There are plenty as is. Then I tried focusing on how I write. As many of my English teachers have told me. I write how I speak. I write like a columnist. Not so good for third person, it’s alright for first I suppose. But then I just end up talking like myself. So I may as well just talk as, myself. I heard once, in a great Drew Barrymore movie, that to write well you have to write what you know. So that is exactly what I will do. 

Theory Two:

Age is earned.
One thing I just can't wrap my head around with today's society is the compulsive desire to look as young as possible. Turn on the television for more than fifteen minutes and you'll be accosted with ads for bo-tox and age defying cream that 'anyone who's anyone' is using for a more 'youthful' look. Hair dye ads to cover up all those 'unwanted' greys. But those grey hairs and those wrinkles are well earned. Grey hair from raising a family, having a successful career. Those wrinkles? From spending summers on gorgeous beaches in the sun and spending days making relationships with people you love. Aging is a reminder of a full life you have led. Why would you want to act like you haven't put all that work into building your life and your past by covering it up and stretching it out? Every woman that I look up to is proud of those crow's feet. They're secure in themselves and their age and they own it. I don't want to be 55 trying to look 35. I want to be 55 and proving that I still have the heart of a 35 year old through my actions.

Theory One:

Thank you for fear. Fear that someone will be the one who wants to leave. This is truly bitter-sweet. Obviously it is bitter because the thought of this person leaving makes you want to pull the covers over your head and read Jane Austen novels and never see daylight again. With others you know, deep down, if they leave you'll eventually get over it. But not this time. Now it's like they leave, and your shadow follows. You can't honestly see yourself getting over it if it were to happen.
BUT (and this is the but to end all buts) at the same time you know that it is fantastic that you have them. Even if for just a short while. The fact that you're so afraid of losing them make you realize how much they mean to you in the first place (in my head I am yelling and making drastic hand gestures at this point) and that makes you so bloody happy that you have a shot at that.
Fear is good. With out it, you can't have the good stuff. End of theory.

HUZZA!!!

I have finally decided what to freaking write about!

Every day I have a million little thoughts that could be bumper stickers or buttons or short phrases you text to someone to make or break their day. I always have them pointed at someone, and typically the small thought or lyric turns into a major rant that I run through a million times in my head, over and over again.
That being said, I'm not sure I have ever actually written them down...bet you can see where this is going.
I've decided to BLOG them. Heck, I can even turn the rants into letters that are 100 percent vague, unless of course the person they are directed at happens to stumble upon my blog and read that one letter that (to my embarrassment) has been written at them, to them, or for them.
I think it's a completely brilliant plan.
So Cheers, let the mayhem............begin.

shotty shorty.

Its nearly the end of june and I dont even have any blog posts to show what I have been up to! That in itself is sad. I'm still racking my brain trying to think of a good theme for this, I do like the idea of it being about "Nothing" but clearly people aren't so fond of that idea.

il dolce far niente

classes are over, I have nothing to do.
Typically I have nothing to write and no one to hear it. Maybe now that I don't about who hears it someone will eh?
I've made myself a lovely simple pasta lunch. Colorful noodles, parsley, garlic and a bit of cheese. And a couple fat juicy green olives. I pulled out an antique plate from the cabinet, pilled my heap of green and orange and white pasta on the plate and sat down on the floor and just went to town. I love the idea of being lost in a plate of pasta. It's so simple and plain. I could seriously just pack up before college, move my butt to Italy and get fat.

Smooth Criminal

So the most exciting thing that has happened to me in the last few days is....I finally saw the third episode of the new Doctor Who season! It's more than a little sad that this is the biggest thing in my week. Well, it really isn't but the other thing is totally beyond the valley of sad sap girliness.
On a totally random note I love Tina Turner. Actually I'm sitting in my ceramic class right now, and this totally jock just looked over to my ipod which is blaring and said "Is this James Bond?" I nodded in satisfaction because we are INDEED listening to Tina's Bond theme song. I can't lie, this is a pretty damn sexy song. Even more so now that this football player is singing along way out of key. He just admitted that James Bond is sexy. It's so true.
Kari stop reading over my shoulder. Wait! Come back! I'm typing like I'm talking to you and you walked away!! Seriously.... look over here. KARI!!! Stop carving and read this. Now. Fine. Jerk.
And now apparently I am into midget porn.
This is the last time I write a blog in ceramics class with these people.
Back to Doctor Who (oh good God now he is singing to Smooth Criminal) I rather liked the most recent episode, it wasn't as dark and depressing as the first two. River wasn't in it, which means no super sad "'Woe is meee" stuff from her, I mean I love River, she is fantastic, but COME ON. Let it go, you're totally robbing the cradle with Matt Smith as the Doctor. Go for Christopher. Maybe even David Tennant in your Library days, but not now. You're hot and all, but more of a hot aunt type.
I'm going to go sleep in the kiln room or something. It's been a thin slice of heaven. Toodles.

Come along Pond

I finally watched the new Doctor Who episode! Mind. Blown.
I can't lie, it was definitely intense. Annnd I just saw the new york peppermint patty ad. I know, I watch a lot of tv right? Well I can't walk to sue me. Anyway, I totally want a Subaru. Anyway back to DOCTOR WHO. Let me just say. AMY IS PREGNANT? What? I mean it was cute in "Amy's Choice" from last season, but that wasn't real. And I feel like last season was just more upbeat. A lot of sad stuff happened in this one, there's the legit scary aliens, River being all secretive and depressing about her and the Doctor. Amy and Rory being distant. It was in boring America, and the Doctor died in the first eight minutes.
Safe to say this entry is a clear rant.
On a completely random note, I want to know how people feel about illegal music downloading. Obviously it is a big trend. Its easy to see why people are against it, it is copyright theft. You're pretty much robbing the musiciansof their well earned money. Unless you're jacking something like 'Friday', which I don't know why you would. That song isn't worth the few seconds it would take to download. Though I have to admit, I sing it after class every friday because I am flat out giddy.
But then again, there is this scenario. Your mate gets this new album and you're like "Hey, that band sounds like a bit of alright, can you burn me a cd?" So they do, you listen to the songs and are totally like SWOON "I love this dudes voice" or "Wow that guitar is like crack!" or my favorite "Ahhhh face melting ukulele solo!" So what do you do? You go to walmart at 2am to go buy an itunes card so you can procure the entire discography of this new obsession. Right? Or is that just me....?
I wouldn't know about 2/3 of the music I love if not for my awesome friend Casey who just drills the tunes into my head like "You will love this, stop being a dumb ass, put the earphone in your head and listen to the magic." By the way Casey, if you're reading this which I doubt you are, THANK YOU. Nightmare of You changes my entire outlook on life. I am eternally grateful.
So what do you think, dear world wide web?

A Peaceful Afternoon

So as the the day went on it got more and more interesting.
First I went to our horribly outdated municipal court office to pay for my speeding ticket. Eek. I used to say I'm a great driver apart from my lead foot. I guess that finally caught up to me with the 80 in a 35. But that's all cleared up. Rad.
Next it was to hospital for some xrays. I don't understand why they don't believe I'm a superhero and I can easily get my own xrays. The tech asked if there is any chance I could be pregnant. I wanted to make a pun but I felt it would be lost on her, and then terror would ensue. I got a new cast, sadly I could not get eye burning orange like I had wanted. I did however have a fun time trying to plaster a big bow to the side of it, that was a bust, so I tried for a racing stripe. I tore it off in the car. After leaving the doc's my mum (yes, I am 18 years old, and my mum has to drive me around for a month) and I headed to the Bureau of Motor Vehicles. As oppose to the Bureau of Stagnant Vehicles. There I procured something so coveted, so fantastic, so rare. I got a handicap parking pass! I've decided I can easily bribe people to drive me around by flashing that bright red pass.
Lastly on my afternoon adventure we went to the local jewelry store. Recently I gave them a family heirloom ring to re size and those loafers lost it. Got a nice call apologizing and saying they could recreate the ring, or I could find something else of equal or lesser value. I assumed a couple hundred dollars. No. I get there and the insurance price that was given to me....drum roll.....2,400 American dollars. I nearly tipped over in my crutches. I am now the owner of a nice diamond ring set and some lovely matching earrings.
So I suppose that is not my standard afternoon. I did go home and catch some z's.
I really wish I had something more comical to write about. Well, as of right now I am only talking to myself.
No worries. Hunky Dory.

Earthworms, lizzards, and bears. OH MY!

Today was rather dull. I couldn't wait to get home and post on my blog. Now, as I sit at my desk, I realize I have no topic. But the show must go on! So today, I shall spew totally random, completely useless crap.
For starters today I read about Chernobyl and the massive nuclear reactor mishap that occured there killing 30 people from the radiation. Now previously I only knew about Chernobyl because in the 1998 Godzilla film where the main character is studying Chernobyl earth worms that had apparently grown 18 percent. But anyway, I'm rambling. I looked at a few photos of this place today, 25 years later, and it is staggering. Everything was left right where it had been a quarter of a century ago. They discribed this town as 'inhabitable by humans for centuries'. Anyway, I just thought it was interesting. I've posted a link below in the doobley do.
http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/20110425/sc_afp/chernobylnuclear25yearsukrainejapan

http://www.flickr.com/photos/yahooeditorspicks/galleries/72157626251068003/

On a somewhat less depressing note, I am talking to myself..... Super.
I suppose it's typing to myself rather than talking.

I shall return presently. Hopefully I will no longer be thinking in the pretetious British accent with Jane Austen era lingo. It really is rather bothersome eh?
Ta ta for now.

Horses For Courses

For the longest time I have wanted to start a blog. I've read loads of them, most are crazy creative, well planned and themed and usually include original photos or videos. Well, seeing as I can hardly use a camera, don't own a camera or a video recording device I was like "Well, crap."
Eventually I said screw it and decided to bite the bullet and make a blog minus the photos and such. But then I smashed face first into another wall. What the hell would I write about? School? No, I live that first hand that and it's deadly dull, and to be honest I mostly sleep through it. How about how I recently broke my leg and the difficulties of..... okay, no. The horse got shot in the face pretty quick. I don't cook, I don't do politics, obviously don;t take many photos of.....anything. I came up with a whole lot of nothing. Then it hit me. WHAM.
Write. About. Nothing.
Literally a blog about nothing. And for those Shakespeare buffs out there- get your minds out of the gutter.
But how brilliant? A blog with very little planning, no pressure except to scroll down random stream of consciousness ever day or so. I can write about the ridiculous things that happen to me, or about...haha....noooothing.
I can rant and gush and swear to my little heart's content (Mom, if your reading this, I'm sorry in advance) I can post about my bucket list. I can post from class, with great stealth and hacking the school wifi skills I might add.
So basically, if any of you get the Doctor Who reference from my 'leahliz10' name and this one right here..... I RULE.