See how they run.

We are phenomenal. We are beautiful songs and young love. We are hot water in the morning and sweaters in the fall and handwritten letters. We are beautiful views and poems that make people cry and sunshine and we are rain, too. We are the pies that actually taste good. We are youth and late nights and the first snow. We are what it is like to be a part of something and we are dancing and we are new shoes. We are good books and good hair days and good games.

We are everything beautiful and wonderful and everything happy.

But here I am, trying to protect myself from us. It isn't being happy that makes me want to protect myself: It's the knowledge that happiness can't last. It's that we will have to be noise and not music and that young love rarely lasts. We will have to be the moment that hot water runs out and everything is just icy, icy cold. We do have to be the letters that don't come and the view is sometimes just polluted. We have to be what it is to be alone and we have to be the months when there is just too much snow and no one wants it around anymore. We have to be the shoes that can't be worn anymore and the plugs that get pulled. We have to be poorly written and we have to be bad hair days and we have to be everything sad.

We do have to be everything ugly and awful and everything sad.

That's life, and sometimes I hate the thought of that. But we can't protect ourselves from happiness without protecting us from sadness, so I suppose we'd better cherish while we have it -- happiness, I mean.

And for now, we're too lovely to look away from, and I'm going to cling to that.

Happy Thanksgiving (Spanksgiving).

All my love,

Addy

Day 08: The moment I did what I wanted and hoped for the best.

Today I had many moments when I thought, "Hey! It's moment day on bandwagon! I'll write about this one."

Eventually I settled on the following:

I had the keys in my hand. I thought, "I know how to drive." I closed the back of the car, climbed into the front seat, started the car, put down the break, put it into reverse, pulled out of the parking space, put on the brake, put the car into drive, drove the 100 meters to my nana's driveway, pulled into the driveway, put down the brake, and put the car in park.

I only have a permit, mind you. My sister saw me, ran inside, told my mom, and I got in loads of trouble.

Except, it was a good moment because I did something I wanted (and exercised the "sometimes one must ask for forgiveness rather than permission" theory) without worrying about the future... oh, wait. I do that pretty much every second. It's fine, I guess.

Stay pretty.

All my love,

Addy

Honey, let's play hooky cause it snowed last night.

And suddenly I am the happiest person I know.

2010 has been my year. I lost myself and then found myself once more in the most beautiful place. I had the most beautiful day that I have had in a very long time.

And I had this whole long post planned out about why I am so happy, but it comes down to this:

There is a higher power, and that higher power has a plan for each and every one of us. There is a higher power. And most of the time that higher power is successful at confusing me. But it has a plan. And I am going to let it all be.

Well, that and the fact that I feel skinny and eloquent and was introduced as "one of the best young journalists I've ever met" today. And that I went to a fantastic wedding. (Go Mckenzie!!) There was even a photo booth there. And Mallory exists and shares her secrets with me. And I made a new friend and he is very, very funny and makes me laugh so hard that I cry. And it is almost Christmas. And my nana brought me sweaters. And I spent nearly half and hour of English class chatting with my friend, Hunter Wilson, about why six hundred sixty six billion, three hundred and twelve million, four hundred thirty seven thousand, one hundred and eleven (or, any number, for that matter) to the power of zero is always one.

We're that cool.

Go.

All my love, Addy.

P.S. I don't have my phone. But my house phone is always able to be called. Call me, pretty please. (That means you, Mallory. We have more secret sharing to do.)

P.P.S. Collin & Kaitlyn - (a) would you please just kiss and admit to being in love with each other? And, (b) tell Tim Thompson to stop freaking out. His longboard is in the back of my car.

P.P.P.S. Go take my poll please.

Notes from myself.

Every step I took today. Every step I took was accompanied by: "You are not funny. You are not pretty. You are not young anymore. You are not good enough. You do not have the enthusiasm for life that you used to. You do not get good grades. You do not have any friends. You not enough for anyone - let alone good enough for yourself," the footsteps said. My parents asked me why I was so angry. I cried. "I am not proud of myself anymore." Step. "You are not funny." Step. "You are not pretty." Step. "You are fat." Step. "You suck." Step. "You are a terrible person." FALSE.

I am me. I am me and I am good enough. I am me and I am good enough and I do not need your approval.

Stay pretty. (You already are.)

All my love, Addy

Awkward me.

I've realized recently how much I've changed. I never used to find myself in awkward moments. I had it all down. I was killer. I was cool. I always knew what to say. Or something. But recently I've realized something: I am an awkward person. With people I am close to, I'm not so bad... But with strangers, I create the most awkward moments. I ask awkward questions. I don't answer questions. I look at them way too long. I stare at people in the eyeballs for excessive amounts of time and it makes them feel terribly uncomfortable. I give people "love pats." I sing in public places. I dance alone. I sing and dance simultaneously in public places. I am awkward enough to walk up to strangers and say, "You don't know me. But you're really attractive. Should we get married?" (Yes, I've actually done that. More than once.) I say the wrong thing at the right time. I say the right thing at the wrong time. I say wrong thing and the wrong time. Mostly, I think the next time I introduce myself (or, more likely, someone else introduces me, on account of I seem to be forgetting introductions lately and simply jumping straight into one of the said awkward things) I'll just say:

"Sup. I'm awkward."

At the same time, though, I'm realizing how much I enjoy my life currently. Instead of running around with people that have always been way too cool for me and liking boys who are absolute jerks underneath their attractive features, athletic ability, and sport shorts, I have been spending time with people that I genuinely enjoy. People that I'm not too awkward with. People I like. People who love to go sweater shopping and miss me when I'm not around. People who bake things. People who microwave tin foil.(People who love Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World.) People who are attractive in a way that is quirky and a little bit weird. But awesome. And I am happy. Happy and, of course, awkward. I am awkward enough to ask the guest in human bio if he believes in aliens. And I am awkward enough to whisper, "Yes," in an an ultra-creepy voice when he says, "I'm not sure. Do you?"

Together, we can take over the whole world.

All my love, Addy.

Post script: Dear Avery: I am sorry for thinking you were stupid for being obsessed with Scott Pilgrim. Turns out it actually is the greatest movie ever, maybe. My apologies. Love, me.

Post post script: "This one's for the guy on the balcony that keeps yelling. It's called, 'We Hate You, Please Die.'" "Sweet. I love this song."

Post post post script: "I mean, did you really see a future with this girl?" "Like... With jetpacks."