Day 17: Nostalgia.

Funny that you mention memories, my dear 30 days, on account of I have been feeling exceptionally nostalgic lately. I have these memories in snapshots. I don't see the whole scene, I see the best part. The picturesque moment that was never caught on camera.

Snapshot: Harli and I sitting on the table at Bearpaw lodge eating nachos. This was before boyfriends but after dollhouse and Regan's leukemia. We were old enough to ski alone. We were not yet pretty. But we were young, and that, in my opinion, is better.

Snapshot: His family standing in our doorway right after we moved in. He looked like Harry Potter. This was (obviously) before I asked him to Sadie's, which we shall be attending in 12 days.

Snapshot: My dad lifting Sophie over her first birthday cake. I stood next to them. This was before camera phones and texting and the reign of Steve Jobs and possibly even before electricity, though I'm not entirely sure.

Snapshot: Standing in the soccer field at Cedar Ridge Elementary with Sarah and Ashley singing that "Miracles Happen" song from Princess Diaries. Just because we could. This was before drama but after the pickle sisters.

Snapshot: First day of ninth grade feeling like I could do anything, Dawson complementing my hair and the thought, "You know my name?" hanging above my head. This was after I became Mme Asay's favorite student, but before I became friends with Dawson.

Snapshot: Lying on the hill with Hannah in the summer air. Breathing. After Josh left. Before the break up. In the middle of everything else.

Snapshot: SMUG at Noah's, my head thrown back, shorts too short, hair left unkept, converse sneakers untied, laughing at Jake Barton. Collin White pouring over the music trying to kick me out of his DJing room, but failing. This was in the midst of Katie's grounding, after meeting Avery, before J&K fell in love, and very nearly summer.

Snapshot: Reading the nicest note Katie's ever written to me at the lunch table. This was after our soul-sister-ship had been established, after she'd met Jake, and before we were torn apart due to some lines on a map.

Snapshot: Sitting across from him in a hot tub taking about the future, wet hair, no trace of make-up. Knowing I liked him. This was before I cared about his girlfriend, before I knew him, really. This was after taxes, but everything is after taxes. Taxes came even before stew. (Who caught the literary reference there? You should've. Avery. Kaitlyn. Collin.)

Snapshot: His hand in mine.

Remember?

All my love,

Addy.

Day 16: My first ever kiss.

Doesn't exist.

I am me.

And perhaps I like you.

It was a meh day.

Meh. You know, meh. Sometimes, when you hug Kyle Somers he'll say, "Meh" and it tends to be very funny. Mostly, I'm just trying to keep calm and graduate.

It's one of those days that I just can't help but think, "Wow. I wish I was a kid again." Because when you were little, your heart didn't get broken and no one betrayed your trust. When I was little, I wasn't worried about writing papers and passing tests and simply making it through math class. When you were little, if a boy found out you liked him, everybody squealed, and you didn't feel betrayed when it got announced. Quite frankly, I'm not sure why it matters. It's obvious, all you have to do is take one look at me when we're together and it's completely obvious that I am wildly in love with this boy, but, of course, if anyone got the privilege of formally telling him, I wanted it to be me.

I wish I was little. I wish that it hurt on the outside - scraped knees and broken elbows, instead damaged hearts and tattered souls.

Don't cram at the end of the term.

All my meh, Addy

Facts.

I hate facts. Because sometimes, facts suck. They say things like, "If you want to not be fat, you need to sleep and eat healthy things and run and stuff." That's a fact. Another fact? "Boys are really stupid." I'm not a huge fan of that fact either. Or possibly, "Your Ipod broke and the new Ipod that is really old that you are using just froze and is being a meanie." Or sometimes, facts say, "We used to be really best friends and then something happened inside of us and it is uber weird now." That's a fact.

But sometimes, on rare occasions, facts say something like, "Bianca is nice and I really like her and she is becoming the oddest best friend I have ever acquired in all of my life." Or, "Hayley is reading my blog and I love her." Maybe they say, "Mallory and Hannah are awesome and cute." Or possibly, "We sat and laughed together for nearly an hour today and no one else in the whole wide world mattered right then because he has beautiful eyes and I'm positively joyful about the whole ordeal." Or sometimes they say, "I get to work at a wedding tonight." Of course, these are very nice facts and I am terribly glad that they are real, actual facts and not just fragments of my over-worked imagination.

I wore a a bright pink sweater today, too. That is how beautiful this day was.

Nothing can ruin this beautiful day. ("Nothing," Katie would say, "Except for forgetting your chapstick.)

Fall in love.

All my love, Addy

One day, I'm going to get married.

It's true. Or, at least I hope. I'm not sure exactly who I shall marry, but let's be honest here, I have a pretty good idea of who I'd like it to be. The point is, I love weddings. Quite frankly, I actually like the idea of a wedding more than I like the idea of actually marrying someone. I tend to be a flighty person and I only like men for an average of two months. The longest was about six months with a boy named Jarrett who was also my best friend and I now fantasize about throwing the occasional brick at him. The shortest, in case you were curious, was about an hour. His name was Jens. Don't even worry about it. (Katie and Avery and all the rest of you, yes: that Jens.) It's rather ironic, though, too. Jarrett and Jens are also cousins. Ha! Anyway, that's rather beside the point. The point is, I liked Jarrett for six months. That, in my head, is a very long time. He was my best friend, yes. And now, I would enjoy throwing hard objects at his head. Exactly why I am not so entirely sure that a marriage would be entirely acceptable. Obviously, it could be rather problematic. Nonetheless, I desperately want a fabulous wedding, therefore, looks like I had better find someone lovely that I could spend my whole entire life with and most likely the rest of eternity with, too. You just wait.

You're all invited to my wedding.

All my love, Addy.

He Said, She Said: A Discussion On Love

Me: Have you ever been in love?

Him: What does that mean?

Me: Have you ever been truly in love?

Him: No. Too dangerous.

What I said: "This is true."

What I meant: "I'M TRULY IN LOVE WITH YOU."

In the words of my new favorite little songstress, Mindy Gledhill:

"Nobody knows that I am a secret spy

I follow you home, careful to walk behind you

I climb up your tree and hide in the leaves

To keep you from seeing who I am

Call me obsessed, but I need to know your name

Your age, your address and where in the world you came from

It's silly to think that I'm on the brink

Of falling right off my rocker

Oh, I want to know

All about your mom and your favorite song

And why you hypnotize me

Well, I tell you what

I'm the definition of obsessive-compulsive, crazy love

Late after dark, your light is on upstairs

And I watch you dance as if you were Fred Astaire

A little finesse, a sparkly dress

And I could be Ginger Rogers

Oh, I want to know

All the books you read and your favorite sweets

And why you hypnotize me

Well, I tell you what

I'm the definition of obsessive-compulsive, crazy

La, la, la I'm like a firefly

La, la, la in the evening sky

I'm all aglow whenever I see you walking by

Oh, I want to know

If you ever plan to hold my hand

And why you hypnotize me

Well, I tell you what

I'm the definition of

Obsessive-compulsive crazy love"

So what? I'm a little bit of a stalker.

Do you think he ever plans to hold my hand?

Oh, good heavens.

Go. Make art.

Drama company went down to Shakespeare festival in Cedar City all for the majority of the week. It was rather entertaining. In related news, a blast from a past has come to take care of us while my parents are celebrating my mother's birthday on a little overnight run-away.

HAPPY 10.10.10!!

I hope you make loads of very special wishes. I also hope they all come true.

Eat your vegetables.

All my love, Addy.

P.S. Dear ladies and loves,

The day you stop caring, move on, and move forward, is the day he will look you in the eye and tell you, "You look so pretty." But you can't fake not care. You have to really not care. There is a difference. But, this is the awful truth. If you start to care again after this happens, you never stopped caring.

Love and wisdom, me.

I've always said not to regret anything. But this is my deepest regret.

I don't remember his name, but rather I remember the way he looked, and the things he wore on those days that feel so long ago. He was taller than me, I think, with dark hair and dark eyes, and, looking back, he wasn't an unattractive boy, but actually quite the opposite. His clothes were inexpensive and his wardrobe limited, and I remember knowing (for some reason) that he was being raised by a single mother; a fatherless, hispanic boy of barely eight or nine. I remember that he had to go to a special classroom for special tutoring while the rest of us stayed in a normal classroom, learning normal things. I distinctly remember going to the bathroom one day while he was walking back from tutoring and he looked into my bluish-greenish eyes with his deep brown ones, wearing a red pokemon t-shirt, and smiled, saying, "Hello, Addy. How are you?" I broke his gaze. I walked faster. I remember feeling so terrible for the way I acted for several days, and avoided him even more, going out of my way to not have to look him in the eye, sit by him, or share crayons with him. I made a choice one night, lying in my bed, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling, that I would be kinder to him, be his friend, look him in the eye, sit next to him, share my crayons with him... I hoped he would forgive me for the way I acted all that time. The next day at school, he was absent. And he never came back.

You looked at me and said, "It was really nice to talk to you."

And I said, "Yes! Thank you! I love you."

"I love you, too," said you.

Then I opened the door and got out of the car.

And I closed the door.

Then I opened the door again and said, "I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU!" and you said, "I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU, TOO!!" And we kissed and smiled.

Except for that last part didn't happen.

Stay pretty.

All my love, Addy.