Weekend Update With Me

Dear Bloggie,


    So my diet is going pretty well. I mean, except for this weekend. What happened was I had my junior leader meeting on Saturday. We had a photography class at U of H (University of Hartford) from 9am to about 1pm, then we all went to Six Flags for Fright Feast. One, Fright Feast was a BIG let-down (plus people were acting like idiots and I somehow managed to trip over a tiny rock and hurt my ankle -- I've been limping since Saturday night now-- which just made things crappier), and two, there is, like, no healthy food at Six Flags. The healthiest thing is a salad, which given that their only dressing choice that I would like with it is ranch, makes it not so healthy. I've been replacing ranch with French dressing, which is a lot less calories.


   In the end I ate a grilled chicken wrap -- it's lettuce with two strips of grilled chicken on top, ranch dressing for taste, though I guess I shouldn't have added the ranch. I already had a bagel with cream cheese and a bottle of Coke earlier. Basically, Saturday was a no diet day. Sunday wasn't much better because my mom surprised me by making buttermilk pancakes since I had mentioned a couple days before how I haven't had them in a long time. My initial reaction was to turn them down -- I'm quite proud of myself for that -- but I couldn't because she made them specially for me. Thankfully, I walked around A LOT at Six Flags, so I only feel half guilty.


   There is one things I want to add before I go. I was eating lunch with my group, when I looked over and saw this sad, lonely, old man. He was sitting there by himself, food resting in front of him as he peered off into the distance with a cheerless look on his face. It appeared as if he was waiting for someone. Wife, kids, grandkids? Who knows. We were in the eating area for over thirty minutes at least, and no one showed.


   I pointed this out to the girl I was sitting with, Annalise, and she, like me, got all sad. He just looked so freaking lonely. We wished we could just go over and talk to him. Of course we couldn't; for all we knew he could have been a perverted, pedophilic, rapist. We have no way of knowing.


  Still, I wish the world was just a good place filled with people who are just straight forward with their intentions, all of them being good intentions. In that world, Annalise and I could have gone over to him and talked, either keeping him company until his family/people he was waiting for showed up, or at least talking to him and finding out why he was by himself. Poor old man. This is a good reminder on why you should treat your grandparents nicely. Remember that.


~XOXO,
       Libby

Inspired By The Count Himself

Dear Bloggie,

   One of my all-time favorite movies is The Count Of Monte Cristo. It all starts with an uneducated, innocent and painfully naïve clerk’s son named Edmond Dantès who finds himself betrayed by his best friend, a rich man named Fernand Mondego. Fernando, despite his wealth, power, and suave, is not happy with what he has. Even worse, he is extremely jealous of Edmond for being happy with what little he does have. So, as a way to not only remove the source of his jealousy, and to take Edmond’s beautiful, kind, and smart fiancée, Mercedès Iguanada, he has Edmond thrown in prison for treason.

 

   I might be spoiling it a bit, but I might as well tell you just a bit more. After years of imprisonment, he finally was able to escape (with the help of a dear friend, and in an interesting way).  A few chance encounters (meaning an awesome fight, a couple years of being a pirate, and whole lot of money) later, he become the Count of Monte Cristo. Rich and educated -- both in the mind and in his fighting skills -- he is no longer naïve. Instead he is hell bent on revenge for what Mondego and his accomplices have done to him.

 

   Though I have heard the movie is the not the best version of the book, and that it is actually quite different from the original story, I can’t help but love it. It takes place in the 1800’s, which is my favorite century EVER! I swear, if I couple go back in time, I would live in 19 century Europe. Mainly England and France, with the occasional trips to places like Italy, and Greece, and Ireland, and Portugal, and Spain. Maybe even Germany, it was good back then. OK, so I love Europe as a whole. Well, I love western Europe, anyways.

 

   So onto why I’m talking about this. After the Count becomes, well, a count, he throws a lavish ball, inviting anyone who is anyone to meet him. Including he enemies, of course. The invitations he sends out are just breathtakingly beautiful. The theme for my sixteenth birthday (only about a year and a half away!) is a masquerade. When I saw the invitations I was stunned; I want them. But how and where do I get them? And really, shouldn’t I be thinking of other things like losing weight (a lot of weight) so I can fit into a beautiful ball gown.  I mean, I found this site that makes gowns for Sweet Fifteen’s (or Quinceanera as the Spanish say) and Sweet Sixteen's. They have my size, but I don’t want to be the fat girl in the beautiful gown. No, I want to be the beautiful girl in the gown which is beautiful, but can not compare to her beauty. OK, so maybe that’s taking it a bit far, but the point is that I want the dress to compliment me, not be what people see, saying to themselves “Wow, that dress is so beautiful. Too bad it can’t make her more beautiful.”

 

  I’m not saying I want to a stick or look sick. God no, I think those models that are size 00’s are too skinny. But I would love to  definitely be under a size ten, basically around six and eight. That means, that for my body type ( I am bigger boned than most, like Jordan Sparks or Khloe Kardashian, except -- sadly -- without the super model height) I should be somewhere between the 130’s to 150’s. I’m 5’5, almost 5’6 so I can pull it off easily. Maybe I’ll finally get an ass, unlike the flat thing I have right now.

 

   Basically, I’m asking, does anyone have any diet tips? The gym won’t let me sign up until I’m fifteen (which I am SO doing when I turn fifteen), but until then I need help. I’m looking for more on things that are healthy for me to eat. Excise isn’t easily attainable for me, so I’m hoping that eating well and getting excise on Fridays during my three hours of dance classes (they serve as my gym credits at an art school) and my daily walk up and down stairs, through the campus to the Commons Building where I have lunch, then back to the main building and up the stairs again to class, will be enough until I turn fifteen. I would tell you my weight, but I’m not sure what it is. The last time I weighed myself was mid-summer when I had that ear infection and had to go to a walk in clinic; my doctor was closed seeing as it was a Sunday, but I was in too much pain not to go. They needed to get all my health info, so they weighed me. Let me tell you, I’m not proud at all. Even worse, I know I’ve gained weight since.

 

   I’ve been eating salad at school either once or twice a week, depending on how unappetizing the food sounds. My school is not know for it’s cuisine. I really like salad, but only romaine and/or iceberg lettuce. Add ranch and I’m good. Add in that my school also offers deli mean with it and the salad is awesome. Deli meat turkey on it tastes a lot better than it sounds, trust me, I know food. The only problem, with the weather cooling down, I want something warmer. So I brave the cafeteria food, even though it looks disgusting, is ehhh, and is probably not very good for you. Life is conflicting.

 

~XOXO,
     Libby

I'm Lonely, Miss Lonely

Dear Bloggie,

    I've got a confession to make. There is a reason why I haven't talked about school that much. It's because it's not going as well as I thought. I was talking to somebody earlier tonight -- this person doesn't seem to understand how awesome they are and that people like them -- when talking with them made me realize that I've been in denial. I love my school so much. I love my teachers and my classes are awesome. If I left there, I would regret it. 

   But at the same time school isn't perfect. I sometimes find myself wishing I hadn't gone somewhere so different that where my friends went. I find myself thinking that maybe I should have gone to Northwest Catholic. Would I have loved it? No. Would I be as lonely? Probably not. I'm not super close to the people who go there, but at least I would be closer than I am now. 

   It's not like I'm a total social exile. I do sit with people at lunch. But I rarely talk to them. I sit there quietly and listen, reading or doing work that's due the next period or so. You know the movie Mean Girls? Remember Lindsay Lohan's first day, where she's all lonely and ends up eating lunch in the bathroom? Take away the bathroom part and add some small talk throughout the day, and that's my life at school. 

  My arts classes have been better, I made friends -- really, I consider her a friend -- with this girl named Sierra. Sadly, she wants to be an art major. And add in the fact that she's a half day student, well, you get the picture. I won't see her much now that this rotation is done. We'll be in total different areas. It really sucks. We still have Facebook and I'll still see her, but it won't be the same.

   The first day I was by myself when this lady who teachers Sunday school at my church (who will my teacher this year) and is a music teacher for the arts classes, had come up to me and had said hi. She had asked me if I knew anyone else there and I answered no. When she thought I was being rather brave, and that she didn't think she could have been able to have done the same thing, I was proud of myself. I thought "Ha, I am being brave!" 

   But now I think I was being stupid.

  

   Because loneliness really sucks. If you have never felt it, well, consider yourself the luckiest person on earth. If you have, then you totally understand what I mean. I hope this will change soon. Sadly, if my past is any example, I don't make friends easily. People don't tend to like the fat girl. 

~XOXO, 

       Libby

Life, Death, & Saying Goodbye Too Soon

Dear Bloggie,
    Back in July -- July 9th to be exact -- I had posted about a hectic week. One filled with sun burns, earaches, messed up Chinese food orders, and one very sad diagnoses of cancer in one of my fellow JL's (Junior Leaders). Sadly, I'm sure you can guess why I an mentioning it. At 11:05, September 16th, 2010, fifteen-year-old Odyssey Vargas passed away after battling cancer. She was diagnosed in early July and died mid-September. She didn't even make it three months. Not even three months. Thankfully she did make it ton her 15th birthday. She turned 15 on September 9th. 


  I for one am not a big supporter of religions. I'm more a "believe what you want" type of person. So no matter what you believe in, if you're religious or not. You don't even have to be American. All I ask is that you keep Odyssey in your minds and -- if you are religious -- prayers. If you aren't just wish her the best at where-ever you go after death. That's what I'm doing. hoping that she has found peace and that she is no longer in pain. I hope she lives on some-where. She deserves to be alive. 

R.I.P. Odyssey 

~XOXO, 

       Libby

We Remember…

Dear Bloggie,

    Today, as you go on your way, remember those who died on September 11th, 2001. Nine years ago. I can't believe it. The thought that it has been nine years is almost as unbelievable as the thought that it happened at all. The thought that people could be filled with so much hate that they would hijack four planes and fly two of them into the World Trade Center. The thought that they would fly the other into the Pentagon. The thought that the passengers of fourth plane were able to stop the plane, sadly instead crashing into a field in Shanksville, Pennsylvania. These are thoughts that belong in a action-packed horror movie, not the news. Not history.

   So today, I ask you to remember. I don't care your American or not. I don't care if your , Christian, Jewish, Mormon, or Muslim. I don't care if your white, black, tan, yellow, red, purple, green, or blue. I don't even care if your skin is a rainbow. I don't care about any of the things that make us different.

    What I do care about, is what makes us the same. We are all people. We are all human. We all feel and hurt and love.We all have our faults and we all have our virtues. We have people who care and love us. We are alive. But on September 11th, that final category disappeared for 2, 296 people (including the 19 hijackers). Who loved and hurt. and felt. Who had families who loved and cared for them. Who were all people. All human. But now, nine years later, are no longer alive.

    We remember that day as a tragedy. But still, look at photos of September 11th and what do you see? The Twin Towers on fire. Fire fighters and rescue workers trying to save people, to at least find the bodies so the victims can be properly identified. But there are photos that aren’t as popular because they show how truly horrible that day was. One of them being “The Falling Man”:

 

 

   To be so desperate that the only way you have any shot at living is to jump. To know that there is no way your going to make it, but you could either wait for the flames and smoke to take you or jump into the cool blue sky. There is a video I was watching on YouTube called “9/11 The Falling Man”. It was not only about the person in the photo above, but also about the 200 people who jumped to their death that day. One man was talking about his wife who worked in the South Tower. He had called her at work and they were able to talk and say their goodbyes before she went to try to get out. They found her body outside her building. Not to say she couldn’t have fallen by accident, but in reality he even said she most likely jumped. But imagine, being stuck in a hot and smoke filled building. Wouldn’t you jump? To fly through the cool crisp air. To say, “I’m not giving in. I won’t let the smoke kill me.”

    These are the people we should see and remember. The people were trapped and desperate. These should be the photos we see, not only America coming together. Because, it wasn’t only Americas who died. It was people on trips form other countries. Business trips, family vacations, you name it. People in the planes, people in the buildings. They were there too. They were not Americans, but they were human.

   So again I ask, remember them. No matter what country your from, just stop and imagine what these people went through, all of them. The jumpers, the people on the four planes, the fire fighters and rescue workers, the people at the Pentagon, and the people who died of smoke, fire, and the Twin Towers collapsing. And, most of all, remember their families. The family members who are haunted by their unsaid goodbyes, and the family members who were forced to say them too soon. The children who lost their parents, and the children who lost their lives. 

 

(Pentagon…)

 

( Shanksville, Pennsylvania…)

 

World Trade Center (Twin Towers)

(Before……)                                                                     (After……)

 

    ~ Much Love,

            Libby

Trying Something New…

so i’m trying this new way of writing
kinda jumbled and without any uppercase letters or real punctuation
except for the word “I”
'cause I type this out first on Microsoft Word
and don’t feel like going back to change it
and except for, like, commas
I like commas
they stand as brakes in my thoughts
except in real life
my thoughts are whole
well not really
but still…

if anyone could read my mind I would be in big trouble
my head is weird
but so am I, so I guess we fit together well
but lets get back to the point

this style of writing kinda awesome
like a poem
I guess

i got the idea while reading this girls blog
you know,
the depressed girls blog i told you guys about
she said that she just lets the words flow
and doesn’t bother with the rest
I like that thought

I think her name is Bethany
but she’s tying to stay autonomous
so she erased most of the evidence of her name
which is really sad
'cause now she signs off as “just a girl”
like she means nothing
like she has no name or personality

I wish I could help her
I don’t know why, I don’ even know her
but she seems nice
and sad
so I want to help her

I know I’ll never be depressed
well maybe a little
but not in the cutting or suicide way
if I ever am depressed it will probably be fake
sometimes I wonder who I am
I remember something I once admitted to Serena
that I craved the spotlight
to be center of attention
to have people talk about me
no matter good or bad
that I talk louder on certain subjects
so people can hear me
even if those subjects can be bad for me

i’ve gotten better
I don’t talk overly loud
but I still
I like attention
I’m a attention whore
I’ve come to realize this
don’t really have much else to say

I like this style of writing
but it isn’t me
I like writing properly much better
still, this was fun
sometime new isn't always better
promise to return to normal for my next post

that reminds me
I want you opinion on my story
Incandescent
I’m posting the first and second chapters
I don’t have 10,000 words yet
so I can’t post it on inkpop
but if anyone reads this blog
please comment on the chapters
I really need opinions
thanks
~ XOXO,
Carrie

P.S. I’ve decided to add a picture of half my class. Obviously you can find me easily; I’m the overly fat girl. But…whatever…I guess. You can find me and spot Cat, but see if you can guess which one is Serena. This is the dance we had made up before on the ride to, so we had already reinstated our friendship in this picture. Neena didn’t attend the dance so she isn’t in it. But Neena was in the graduation picture so I guess there is one of her.

P.P.S I’ve decided to also add two pictures taken at my friend Stephanie’s birthday party back in March. We weren’t really drunk in either of them (though I do look high in the one that I’m staring into the cup); it was just for the pose. They came out good in my opinion. The pictures were taken after Serena had left so she isn’t in them. Neena didn’t go. Her mom doesn’t let her go to too many things. In the “drunk” pictures (from left to right) is: Stephanie, Cianna, Angela, Marousa, Me. I kinda wish I could go back in time to that day and relive that time on. The school year still had three and a half months to go and life was looking up because Serena and I had basically just ended our second fight, believing that a third would never happen. The only thing that still hung in the balance was high school. I hadn’t known that I had been accepted into the Art Academy yet, but besides that life was great.

Because I Knew You…

Dear Bloggie,
Sorry I didn’t post on Friday, but by the time got home from graduation I was tired. I wasn’t going to post today, but them I remember something from graduation. My teacher had given a speech and in it she quoted a line from the Broadway play Wicked. I had really liked the line so I decided to look it up today. I knew it was about the people we know and have known, so I looked up the song list and went from there.

For some reason I was almost instantly drawn to a song called “For Good”, which after evaluation of the lyrics, I’m about 99% sure this song is the one she quoted. It’s been two days since graduation and I have yet to cry, but after listening to the song – having gone straight to iTunes and buying it after I was sure it was the song with the quoted lyrics – I could feel those emotions rising. Still no tears, but I feel like I am going to cry. You know that feeling you get inside when you sad or something and it feels like your about to cry but your eyes refuse to listen so they stay relatively dry, all the while that horrible, sad feeling rages in your chest making you want to really cry – not little sobs but loud, body trembling, almost yelling ones? Well that’s how I feel right now. I can feel that scream/sob in my throat my I can’t make it come out.

I will miss all my classmates. I’ve had mixed relationships with all of them, but at the end of the day I hate the fact that I won’t see them all again. Serena was sitting next to me at graduation and started crying. I was surprised; she and Neena kept saying they couldn’t wait to leave.

I had expected this from Neena since I have a sneaking suspicion she hates the majority of the class. She never felt like she was part of us since she was only here a year. I would never say this to her, but she’s the one who didn’t try to get to know people that well. We accepted her, she’s the one who acted like she didn’t want to be accepted and that everyone hated her from day one. I remember her talking to me on Facebook back around October, November, or December on how she thought people didn’t like her. I knew it wasn’t true, I even said so, but she wouldn’t listen.

But Serena, I had been surprised. She had been attending Saint Brigid School since Kindergarten or First Grade! Well, when she started crying I got to see the truth, she didn’t really want to leave. In that moment of my friends crying around me as our teacher, Ms. Bernaiche, gave her speech I realized something, SBS (Saint Brigid School) is home. We all hated having to get up and go learn every morning, but at least we could count on how our day would go. It was familiar. It is familiar. That’s when I came up with this simple ideal:

Home is a place you want to leave until you have to.

We all wanted to be anywhere else until it came down to the time we really did have to leave our beloved home/school. Now we are all going in different directions, even the ones who are going to the same high school. Life is a road. We should all be thankful for the people who join us on that road, even if it is only for a short time.
~ XOXO,
Carrie

P.S The graduation photo is really my class. I'm in the back behind Cat and my friend Angela (she's sorta my inspiration for Angela Pearson, now named Angela Ellis after I decided I didn't like the last name Pearson enough for my character), you can't really see my face, but you can see my arm. Serena is next to me and Neena is next to her. I was thinking about telling you their real names, but I've decided not to. :)

P.P.S Cat moved her blog to Tumbler. I thought about doing the same, but I like it better here on blog spot. :)

P.P.P.S I now have two followers (one is actually clicked to follow, the other is Cat who just reads it) so I'm sorta happy. I had clicked to see who the person who follows me is and I saw she follow some of the same people I do, leading me to believe she found my blog on Inkpop. Well I checked out the blogs she follows and I don't, and found this cool blog. Well not so cool, as interesting. It's a bit depressing, but I like reading it. Anyone who reads my blog should check it out. The girl seems nice but she's really deep down in it and seems to have alot of problems with her mom. Either way you should check it out.

P.P.P.P.S Here is the quote from the song that my teacher quoted.

I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing
something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I
believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you...