7 Quick Takes Volume 4

1. As you probably already know, I read the Hunger Games. I can tell why they're popular. They're definatly amazing. I flew through the first two very quickly (2 books in 2 days) But the third one took me longer to get through. I didn't find it as good as the others. But I can totally understand why people love them, the first book was AMAZING.

2. I went shopping yesterday. Paula and I went into town, looking for tanktops for a project we want to do. We didn't find any tanktops, but I did find some cute shoes. I found one pair I want to glitterize, and another pair I just want to wear. The ones I got to wear, they're high, and I may break my neck trying to walk (Ok, not really!) but they are super cute and I love them. So I got shoes.

3. I've been writing this post for over a week now, slowly adding to my numbers. We'll see if I ever make it all the way to 7.

4. I just finished the book This Lullabye by Sarah Dessen. It's a book where when you finally get to the end you just want to go "Awe..." It also made me wish it was night so I could stare out my window and look at the stars and contemplate life.

5. The Hunger Games movie comes out today, and as I scrolled through facebook today I kept seeing status's about how excited people are for going to see the movie tonight. I am not going to see the movie tonight, But instead opting for supper out and then curling up with a good movie, but I do want to see the Hunger Games movie. So to everyone whose going to see it tonight, have fun and don't spoil it for me!

6. My feet are purple. It reminds me of something my friends said on Wednesday, about shoes bringing out the color of your eyes. So I wonder if I wear a purple shirt, will it bring out the purple in my feet? On second thought, let's just wear socks and warm up my ice cold, purple feet.

7. I finally made it to 7. This post took a while to write, simply because I thought I had nothing to say. It turns out you don't always need something to say, you need to just listen. So I'm grateful to be here... right now. Life is full of sweetness and sorrows and sometimes words aren't needed, sometimes you need to just listen.

P.S I think by the end of this I was maybe just rambling on because I needed something to say, SO this might be the lamest 7 quick takes to date... just sayin' :)

Jaxon's quote's of the day

Here's Jaxon's quotes of the day, enjoy!

"Am I more then 90 minutes old? More then 100 minutes?"

"There's this thing, called Slap, and you go there, and you can unfriend people. one click for want to unfriend them, and two clicks for really want to unfriend them."

Looking at a picture of Jeff Probst "That looks like the grade 8 teacher from our school!"

"You will not unslap me!"

"I guess you can't unslap me, I'm too cool to be unslapped!"

"Do I have a heart?"

I'm kind of a wimp (Yesterday's surgical procedure)

It's confirmed, I'm a wimp. I sat here for a while trying to think up the perfect way to tell you about the minor surgery I got yesterday (Tube change)
After trying multiple times and never finding the right words, I decided to youtube it and see if I could find any videos. I did find some, but then I decided not to show them because none of the kids in the videos screamed. Which kind of makes me the biggest wimp ever.
So yeah, I got my tube changed yesterday. And I'm pretty sure I'm a wimp because the kids in the videos just grimaced and tightened their muscles and made some wierd noise. I, on the other hand, had to be held down (Ok, not literally, but my dad did have to hold both my hands so I wouldn't lunge for the tube.)
So instead of the video, I'm just going to try and describe it, and try to make myself not sound like the wimp I am.
So we were going to change the tube. I think half the battle was talking myself into it. Finally, the show was about to begin. The tube was drained, and my dad held my hands, and the tube was pulled out. In that moment, it hurts. Right in that second as the tube it being pulled out it hurts in a way I can't even describe. All these thoughts go through your head in those few seconds and it's almost like everything else fades away and every part of you is focused on this one thing. And then it's over. The pain begins to let up and you can breathe again and it's over and there's this sigh of relief that comes. I took Motrin before so this time I had minimal after effects (Last time I didn't and had this awful headache and I was really dizzy) so this time I was only a little dizzy. Today I'm a little sore, but nothing to bad.
So that was my minor surgical procedure yesterday.

Finding my Muchness...

You used to be much more... muchier. You've lost your muchness. ~ Mad Hatter

She should be used to my random texts by now... After our conversation on Katniss and Peeta (Yes I did cave into peer pressure and read the Hunger Games) and my random comments that usually go something like...

"Hey, I'm going to complain now..." Or "(Insert quote of the week here)" Or, the infamous "I just did something stupid!" She should be used to it by now

But I wonder if anything ever prepared her for this one... "I want to wear sparkly shoes and a ball gown and go grocery shopping!"

She answered back with "Me too!" (However did I get such amazing friends?)

I'm finding my muchness. I've dreamed of crazy situations, like skydiving or riding a mechanical bull (I've settled for the mechanical type because a horn connecting with any body part doesn't sound fun!). But sometimes it's the little things that mean as much as the big things...

Like wearing red heels in the middle of winter (Or anytime for that matter!) or wearing Wonderstruck perfume even when you have absolutely no place to be, simply because it smells good. Like walking barefoot on the grass or writing those delicious first words of a story without having any idea what will come next.

So I'm going to find my muchness, red heels on my feet and the sun on my back. And who knows, one day maybe I will go shopping in a ball gown!

My night with Bob and Marjorie

Whenever I read this title, I think it sounds like I spent the night with two old people. I DID NOT spend the night with two old people. Marjorie is a fancy name for my pump (and yes, I name my medical equipment. I figure if you're stuck with it, you may as well try and make the best of it) and Bob is the name of my undiagnosed disease. Again, if he's staying, He needs a name.

It was the wee hours of the morning. I hadn't slept at all yet (Can anyone say insomniac?) Suddenly, she began beeping. Loud, shrill beeping. I groaned, fumbling for the light. No food, no food. Her cries echoed out over my empty room.

I calmly pulled my tired self out of bed, stumbling around in the dark on my way to the kitchen.

Just kidding. I took the pillow and smacked it before grumbling and groaning all the way to the kitchen.

I turned on the light and began rinsing the line. If at first I didn't succeed, I tried again.

Just kidding. After a few failed attempts I began to cry and wanted to start looking for the hammer.

After my failed attempts, my mom came out and tried to fix it. I sat on the counter and patiently waited as she tried to fix it.

Just kidding. After more failed attempts I suggested the hammer again.

We finally got it to work and I returned to bed, holding my breath, feeling like I was praying for a miracle. I lay awake in the dark, longing for sleep that never came.Eventually sleep came, and I drifted into dreamland for a few blissful hours before I had to wake up to begin my day.

Pretty soon I forgot that my night with Bob and Marjorie had ever happened, soon forgetting that this wasn't the way that normal teenagers spend their nights.

Except that I didn't.

Audrey Hepburn

This poem was written by my friend Sami. I read this, and absolutely fell in love. It was so relatable and true I almost started to cry. She agreed to let me post this to share with everybody.

There are so many
things I want to tell you
like how
on the couch yesterday
evening I
was sitting on your
lap with your hand
on my shoulder and I
so
wanted to bend down
and kiss your cheek
like how you kissed my
forehead
when you left for the
night.
But I didn’t.
Or how that kiss made
me
(with my frizzy short hair
in a page
boy cut) feel like a
girl,
a proper pretty girl,
like the Audrey
Hepburn
poster on your wall.
I should said all of
this.
But I didn’t.
I didn’t say how I
love
your curved sarcastic
smile or
your black pea coat
with
the buttons that have
anchors
or the nerd jokes you
blurt out
from time to time, so
spontaneous I know you
couldn’t
have planned them out.
And I love
the way you make
smiles with sprinkles
and M&M’s on your
ice cream
cones and nerdfighter
jokes.
I love how you rename
the
folders on my computer
and
search for the things
you
know don’t exist just
because
you want to see me
blush. I
do, but I’m blushing
not because of
what you say, but
because of
how you look at me.
And I
should have told you
all this
last night
when you stood up
from the couch
and planted a kiss on
my forehead.
But I didn’t.
Because I thought of
all the other things I want to tell you
like how I am a bomb
that
will one day pop and
let off smoke,
and I am not whole but
broken
and bruised. You do
not know I
run three times a week
in the mornings
although I feel
nauseous or that I
walk to the pharmacy
once a month
to exchange a thirty
dollar bill for
pills and the enemas
you don’t know
I need to use every
other night. And
you have not seen me
on steroids
with fat cheeks and
face flushed,
ashamed of how I look
and too
tired to go outside.
You have not
seen my eyes grow
tired from
becoming a drugged
insomniac.
You could not love me
then because
you keep Audrey
Hepburn on
your wall. When I am
sick,
I am not Audrey Hepburn.
I am just me then, but
a little
wider in the face and
skinnier in
the hips and breasts.
And sometimes
I will be in the
hospital. Then,
I will not need
someone who can
make faces on ice
cream cones, but
someone who can hold
my hand and
let me cry and tell me
that
I will come out of
there as alive
as when I was carried
in (because
I could not walk). And
you will not
want to hold me then
because you
will be disgusted by
the ticking noise of
the little bomb inside
my intestines
that ticks on and on.
You do not
know what I am at risk
for. Cancers.
Liver disease. Kidney
disease. Things
that could kill me if
my immune system
doesn’t get around to
finishing the task
first. And one day, I
might choose or
be forced to lose my
colon, and I will
need someone to kiss
my forehead not
when I have pounds of
make-up on
my face, but as I lie
listening to my
heartbeats on a
surgical gurney.
I will need someone
brave
who will see me as a
person when
I am little more than
an IV and
a prescription pad.
Because beneath
the medical apparatus
that may one
day cover my skin, I
am a person.
A beautiful person
with a beautiful soul.
You too are beautiful.
But you are meant for
someone different. You
are destined for an
Audrey Hepburn, someone
whose beauty
will always radiate on
the outside. I believe
that beauty must first
and foremost come
from the inside. I am
not
Audrey Hepburn, but
maybe
I am just as beautiful

This is where the healing begins...

At the beginning of this year I made a resolution, of sorts. I picked a word I wanted to describe this year. The word I chose was healing. I wanted this year to be a year of healing for me, not only in the physical sense.
Things over this past year have actually gone downhill for me. I've been in more pain. Life has been rough, and I've had so many ups and downs.
Yet I feel at peace. I feel like, despite all this hard stuff in my life right now, I'm going to be ok. I feel hopeful, and happy, and I actually am feeling pretty good physically. There's hope, glimmering in the distance. There's healing coming to this heart of mine. Let the healing continue to rain down this year. Let it wash over me and transform me. This is where the healing begins...