The weather is here, wish you were beautiful...

The weather is so beautiful right now! And I actually have a lawn. And I actually mowed it on Saturday. And I actually enjoyed mowing. And I remembered just how much I love yard work and how relaxing it is. And as I was mowing, I had flash backs to the beautiful Fall weather in Ohio. And I thought about how it's such a shame that fall here feels like Ohio summer and how I don't really live in a place where the leaves are gonna change. And how I know it'll get colder-ish, but that I really don't mind the cold after all. I just don't like how cold it gets in Ohio. And I just don't like how hot it gets here. I need to find a happy medium. So I've decided to move to Savannah Georgia when I'm done with school. Because it's my most favorite city in the country. And because the weather is a happy medium. And the ocean is really close. And it's only 4 hours away from where I grew up. And it's only 25 minutes away from where my Daddy is buried. And it's only 4 hours from Atlanta. And 2 hours from Charleston, SC. And it's in the South. And it's on the East Coast. And it's a progressive city without being too big city-ish or too small town-ish. And my brother is afraid I'll get killed in a hurricane. And I reminded him that I've survived them before. And then I said, "Bring it." And this is definitely my plan for the future. (The moving part not the hurricane part.)

And I'll be in Provo this weekend for 1 day (Saturday). And I want to see everyone. And this time it won't fall through because my sister already rented two vans. And I'll finally have all my belongings in one state after this weekend. And I'm gonna stop with the ands now.

amendment

I can indeed wake up before 8:00 am.

I woke up at 5:30 am today.

Bright eyed and bushy tailed if you can believe it.

I couldn't believe it, so I went back to sleep.

I woke up again at 7:30 so I think there might be something strange going on.

I guess it's a good thing.

Go figure.

free?

My internet usage is limited. It hasn't been limited for the past 7 months so I've been monumentally spoiled. And it's been free. But now I can't blog as much. Or read my email as much. Or read the news as much. And in 6 weeks it's gonna get worse. I will be completely internet free. And that's worse than... bad hair. Ok, maybe not that bad. But in 6 weeks I will also be rent free. So maybe I can finally get my own computer. After I pay off my credit card, which is the reason I'm going to be living rent free. But I should be debt free in a matter of months. So this shouldn't last more than 6 months, Tops. But there's a reason I haven't lived with my mother for several years. Well, more than one reason. First and foremost is that I am grown. I moved out at 18. And now I'm 25. And I'll spare you the dirty laundry and leave it at that. While my mother is nice enough to let me live rent free, somehow I know I'm gonna end up paying for this with my soul. No, more like my sanity. So when my posts become cries for help, or if I start liking teddy bears for the first time in my life, or if I start blogging about floral arrangements or collectible dolls, someone please be nice enough to come rescue me.

crack kills.

Thanks a lot Kat.
I decided to look into this whole "Lost" thing and now I'm a freaking addict.
I picked up a DVD with the first few episodes one night while I was in the video store and next thing I knew, my whole family was in on this addiction and my brother-in-law came home with the whole 1st season he'd borrowed from a friend.
And all we do with our free time is watch "Lost."
We've finally caught up on all the episodes and I'm DYING for tomorrow's new episode. I even missed Law and Order tonight because I was busy doing Lost catch-up. You know it's serious when I miss Law and Order on purpose.
Best show on television.
I'm a junkie.

So...

I was filling in at the thrift store again last week and I saw some really cute boots and I bought them for $2.50. There's no label on them anywhere so I don't know what brand they are, but they're comfortable, just ask Boodji.

Tag, You're It.

7 Things I Plan to Do Before I Die:

1. Learn to Sail


2. Learn To Surf


3. Sing in front of a crowd of 10,000 or more


4. See the Nile and Amazon Rivers


5. Climb a Volcano


6. Travel around the World


7. Learn French

7 Things I Can Do:

1. Sing


2. Laugh at myself


3. Make anyone smile


4. Wear stilettos


5. Wink at a stranger


6. Imitate an alligator call


7. Gut a fish
   

7 Things I Cannot Do:

1. Get a tan


2. Snap my fingers


3. Turn a cartwheel (it’s scared me since I was a kid, go figure)


4. Wake up before 8:00am


5. Drink milk


6. Sneeze quietly or gently


7. Laugh quietly or gently

7 Things I find most attractive about the opposite sex:

1. Natural Scent


2. Eyes


3. Arms, shoulders, hands


4. Sense of humor


5. Integrity


6. Ambition


7. Adoration (I love men who adore me)

7 Things That I Say Most Often:

1. “Oooooh” as in “Oooooh, I’m gonna tell on you.”


2. “What Up?”


3. “Haaay”


4. “Bring It”


5. “Your mom called…”


6. “Whatevah”


7. “Sheeee-it”

7 Celebrity Crushes:

1. Cillian Murphy


2. Anderson Cooper
   


3. Matt Damon


4. Tim McGraw


5. Ricky Martin (I know, I know, but I can’t help it.)


6. Antonio Banderas


7. Brad Pitt

7 People I Wish To Do This:

1. Em


2. Kat


3. Ritz


4. Liz


5. Nama


6. Kimberly


7. Basically every single person on my “folks I love” list.

Does anyone know what happened to Jon's blog?

Jon-Jon, I love you.
Where did you go?
Come back.
Please?

affirmations

I'm going to quit my job.

Yes, I have loved it.
Yes, I have made a difference.
Yes, it has changed me forever.
Yes, I know that I can still do a lot of good.
Yes, I will be a DV activist for the rest of my life.
Yes, it's taking an emotional toll.
Yes, it's giving me nightmares.
Yes, that compounds the fatigue/insomnia toxic-combo.
Yes, I'm feeling undervalued.
Yes, I'm sometimes treated like a babysitter.
Yes, I've started to resent my boss.
Yes, I'm unable to survive on this pittance of a salary.
Yes, I'm looking for a job that will pay me $10,000 more a year.
Yes, I'm looking for a job as a makeup artist.
Yes, I will keep my options open.

amalgamation

While I don't begrudge anyone their much deserved happiness, I can't help but wonder what's up with everyone in the world around me getting married. I haven't even been on a date in in least 9 months and the only man who gives me any attention is a formerly muslim atheist from India who never wants to get married. So much for that. At least he dresses well and tells me I'm beautiful everyday. Saturday, I showed up at my younger cousin's wedding looking ridiculously beautiful and spent the whole evening commiserating with my single twin-cousin, Brandon, about why we always pick the wrong people to date and whether or not we're doomed to be single FOREVER. We just sighed and sat shoulder to shoulder watching the happy new couple dance their first dance together. The sad thing about looking so very good was that every attractive eligible bachelor in the room was related to me. I do have to admit, marriage has not been my focus for quite some time now and I'm fully aware that it's something I need to be preparing myself for and making some effort on the behalf of in order for it to happen. I'm learning. It's a process.

For all of my dear friends who are currently engaged, I'm truly very happy for you and I really would like a wedding announcement, even if I can't make it to your wedding.

Much Love,

♥ Leah

♫ Happy Birthday to My Blog ♫

For real. It's been one whole year of blogging bliss. As you can probably tell, I'm addicted to blogging. Thank you to my dear friends who introduced me to the blogging world, Kat and Em. Kat helped me set up my blogger account one night using Em's laptop and my life has never been the same. I was already an avid journaler, this made it better and has made me more comfortable sharing my daily life with people. When I first started blogging, I was very self-concious about what I posted and how it and I would be perceived. I still edit my posts to keep them readable and somewhat interesting, but I no longer refrain from posting what's on my mind out of fear of negative perception. This has been an excellent and healthy outlet for me. And it has proved to be the best way to keep in touch with the people I love. When I started composing this post, I was thinking of all the positive that came out of blogging and remembered that it was a negative event that started all of this. I'm very glad that I've moved so far away from that experience and that while it sucked, a lot of good has come from it. I'm sure I'll have many more negative events in my life, but now I'm not afraid to share them with the world. It's healing.

Blog on ya'll.

I know I will.

relapse

You Are Changing Leaves

Pretty, but soon dead.

What Part of Fall Are You?

In a Past Life...

You Were: A Mute Warrior. Where You Lived: Israel. How You Died: Killed in Battle.

Who Were You In a Past Life?

Your Hair Should Be White

Classy, stylish, and eloquent. You've got a way about you that floors everyone you meet.

What's Your Funky Inner Hair Color?

You Failed the US Citizenship Test

Oops, you only got 6 out of 10 right!

Could You Pass the US Citizenship Test?

Your Inner Child Is Surprised

You see many things through the eyes of a child. Meaning, you're rarely cynical or jaded. You cherish all of the details in life. Easily fascinated, you enjoy experiencing new things.

How Is Your Inner Child?

Your Power Color Is Gold

At Your Highest: You are engrossed in passions that mentally stimulate you. At Your Lowest: You seek thrills and neglect what's important in your life. In Love: You see dating as adventure and approach it with an open attitude. How You're Attractive: You passion for life makes others passionate about you. Your Eternal Question: "Am I Having Fun?"

What's Your Power Color?

small change

I was robbed today.

For the 2nd time in my life.
The first time was August 2, 2001.
My first day as a missionary in Ohio.
I got robbed in a town called Lima.
It's really really small.
So was the amount of money they took.
I only had $5.

Today I got robbed while shopping for brocade with my mom.
I went out to my car and noticed the door was unlocked and that the first aid kit that I keep in the glovebox was sitting on the seat.
Whoever it was went through my whole car, as things were in disarray.
All they got was the $1.50 in my cup holder.
Stupid suckers.
Apparently they didn't need first aid.
Or an ice scraper.
Here's a tip: Don't rob the dirtiest car in the parking lot.
If I'm too poor to go to a car wash, there probably won't be anything worth stealing in my car.
I don't even leave CD's in my car anymore because this state has such a high auto theft rate.
Cars can be replaced. Mix CD's are sacred.
They left my air freshener (thank goodness) and my registration, but my mom's address is on my registration, so I told her to lock her doors tonight.
I was pretty peeved.
They could at least try to rob ME, not just rip my car off when I wasn't looking.
Chicken-$h!t suckers.
Bring it.

Salty

I woke up from a nightmare to the screams of my alarm clock. I was dreaming that a child was being hurt and I couldn't stop it. I was screaming and screaming and no matter how fast I ran or how hard I fought, I couldn't stop it.

I tried to put the nightmare out of mind and got dressed for work. I filled in at the thrift store again. As I was tagging clothes and helping customers, I heard the door chime and looked up to greet the customer. In walked four very familiar faces and one stranger. The four familiar faces belonged to a mother and three children who recently moved out of the shelter. The stranger was the man whose anger and bruises put them there in the first place. As soon as she recognized me, she bent down and whispered to her children and they nodded politely and made no sign that they knew me.

I was relieved and broken.

I was relieved that the children who I'd cared for and played with and loved didn't run to me and make a scene that would force her to explain to this man who I was and how they knew me.

I was broken that the children who I'd colored with and taught to walk and laughed with didn't run to me and give me the hugs and kisses I had received every day for 3 months.

I stood with a poker face and continued my task. I was so sick inside. As soon as the man was on the far side of the store, I noticed the two older children sneaking toward me. They stood behind a rack of clothes and waved to me and blew me kisses. I did the same and they ran back to their mother. I could feel my chest getting tight and it started to become hard to breathe. A few moments later the mother passed by me as she crossed the store and the baby, whose first steps I witnessed and who followed me everywhere I went, recognized me and immediately threw his little arms out and opened and closed his hands for me to hold him. His mother gave me a look of shame and embarrassment and continued walking.

My heart fell out.

It landed with a thud on the dusty floor.
I went to the office and explained to the manager that I needed a moment; he understood and told me I could go work in the back until they left.

I went in the bathroom and cried.
A hard sad hicuppy cry.
My forehead against the dirty tiles on the wall.

As I walked out of the bathroom and towards the back, the man stopped me. The woman's eyes were as round as saucers. I looked him right in the eye and didn't see the monster I expected to see. So this is what a man with two families looks like? A man whose actual wife also puts up with beatings and with his having this entire family on the side? A man who uses the thrift store vouchers we gave his family-on-the-side to help them get on their feet once they left the shelter? A man who uses our generosity to buy himself a radio?
I didn't feel the hate I expected to feel.
I didn't blow her cover.
He looked like everybody else. A normal man, a normal dad. And he was polite. He asked me the price of the radio in his hand and I said I didn't know. As I pointed out the manager who could help him, I smiled at her with my eyes.
I wanted her to know.
I didn't want her to feel ashamed. I didn't want her to feel weak or that she has somehow failed. I wanted to embrace her and tell her how brave she is and how much I respect her. She gave me a small smile.

I went in the back and sat among the piles of donations and tried not to cry again until the manager came to tell me they were gone.

I know the statistics. I know that a woman goes back to her abuser an average of 6 times before she leaves for good. I know that it can be so overwhelming and embarrassing and depressing to live in a shelter that it seems easier to just go home and take it. I know it's hard when your babies are crying for their daddy while you hold a bag of frozen corn to your bruised face.
The first time a woman in the shelter shyly asked me if we had any extra underwear I realized how humiliating it would be to leave everything and have to rely on the kindness of strangers. I've held these women as they've cried in despair. These women are braver than I could ever dream to be. They should be celebrated and praised. And not forgotten.

I was going to use this post to tell you about all of the incidents that broke my heart today, but one was enough to leave my cheeks salty, and probably enough to do the same to you. And besides, I'm all cried out. I'll leave the issues of child abandonment and human trafficking alone for today.

October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month. Please be aware. Be informed.

Do not forget these women.

If nothing else, please offer a prayer on behalf of these women.
There are 4 animal shelters to every 1 DV shelter in the U.S.
2 out of 3 women who call for help are turned away because there aren't enough beds.
Every day 4 women die in the U.S. as a result of domestic violence.
And more than 700 women are raped or sexually assaulted every day by an intimate partner.

This has to stop.

Please take the time to click on some of the links in my sidebar pertaining to this issue. 700women.org and The National Domestic Violence Hotline are excellent resources.

Impatient

Now that I know for sure that I'm going to be home for Christmas, I'm really really homesick.

I haven't been home in 4½ years!

I've been talking to my sister, Meme, a lot about her wedding plans: dress, hair, decor, etc. I wish I could be there to help her plan. She's going to have me do her hair and makeup and I'm going to see if my brother, Dewey, can learn my version of "Wonderful World" on the guitar so I can sing it for her. Meme asked me when I was a teenager (10 yrs ago) to sing at her wedding. But she asked me to sing "Sweetest Thing" by Lauryn Hill. We'll see, I think she might be over that song. If Dewey can't learn it, I've gotta start calling my peeps in O-town and find out who's gotten really good at the guitar. I've also started looking for gorgeous clothes to wear. My sis is counting on me to make sure my mom and sibs are dressed beautifully. They're ready to kill me already. I'm making them dog-ear magazines and catalogues so I can give them a proper fashion consultation before we go shopping. I'm freaking out with excitement even though it's 3 months away. There are so many people I need to see. Hopefully, we'll have the chance to drive 4 hours north and visit my Daddy's grave and the beautiful area he grew up in. I really really miss it. Aaahhhh! I'm so excited and so impatient!! I'll take lots of pictures!

In other news...

My mom and I might be driving up to Utah in 2 weeks!

Hooray!

She wants to see my Grandma and I need to get my shizzle outta my Grandma's basement. We'd be there over the weekend of the 15th. I want to see as many of you as possible, so we might need to do some party planning. I don't care who has homework! It isn't a definite thing yet, so keep your fingers crossed and I'll keep you posted....