ANYTHING but this

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Today I went to school. I came home. I did homework for about 3 hours. I showered. I lied in bed listening to country music. Not a great day. Honestly, it wasn't even a good day at all. I've got Devin on my mind. I miss knowing that he's sitting on his couch reading magazines in brail; I miss having even a glimpse of hope for him to pull through and miraculously heal. I don't know, maybe it's silly. But that was comfort for me, knowing he was living here, on this same earth as I am. I just want to be who he wants me to be. I want to be worthy of his friendship and presence still in my life. But still, I'm feeling uncomfortable lately. With a lot.

I've decided this is not the person I want to be. I don't know who I want to be. Maybe the pretty, blonde cheerleader who every guy would KILL to be with. Maybe the awkward girl who no one knows if they like or not. Maybe the girl who isn't so pretty, but has a not so pretty boyfriend and they both lived happily ever after. I don't know who it is that I want to be, but it's NOT this. It's ANYTHING but this. I don't want to always know of the things I've done and carry them in the back of my mind. I don't want to look in the mirror and see what I see now. I don't want to go to math class and know I'm the dumb one. I don't want to know in the back of my mind that I was played for a year by someone who I thought was Superman, but he clearly was the only villain in the story.
I don't want this to be me.

When I look in the mirror, I want to see Barbara Palvin, except with the body of Blake Lively and the hair of Miley Cyrus;  the striking green eyes of Nicole Fox, the full lips of Beyonce Knowles and the bronze skin of Jennifer Lopez. I want to open my mouth and have the voice of Christina Aguilera and when I dance I want everything to look effortless, like Melanie Moore. I want people to look at me and see their faces go like this: 


Most importantly, I want to look at myself and do this.


Maybe I should quit eating so much. Maybe I should run 10 miles a day. Maybe I should do sit ups every time I eat. Maybe I should sleep with beauty cream on my face. Maybe I should drink gross health shakes in the morning. I don't freaking know.

I want to make my parents proud. I want to be smart, I want to get straight A's like it's nothing. I want everything to come easy. I want to be a Sterling Scholar and get scholarships to schools all over the world. But at the same time, I don't. That's the life I feel like I SHOULD live, but it's not the one I'd be happy living. I just need to decide between the two: what would make me happy or what would make me look better.

I don't know what's gotten into me. Maybe it's the loss of Devin. Or maybe it's this time of year, the time when my aunt passed. Trying to be who they want me to be, whoever that girl is. But what I do know is, I'm not who I MYSELF want to be. And that scares me a little bit. Not just because I'm not satisfied, but because I've been here before. I've been in this EXACT position. And I don't want to go back, but sometimes it's out of my control.

I have to change this. And I have to change it before it starts to really eat at me.

No pun intended.

Things Change As Seasons Change

Sunday, November 13, 2011

I've never loved fall. I'm such a summer girl. Shorts, swim suits, tan skin, tank tops, light hair, gold eyes, no make up. Fall always kinda depresses me. School starts and my skin goes light again, I have to wake up early, and it gets so cold. So basically, I've never been a fan of autumn. But tonight was beautiful. I'm growing fond of driving around, cloudy skies, gorgeous sunsets surrounded by orange trees, and even some rain. I feel like every season brings back different memories.

Every summer in my childhood was some sort of adventure. I remember sitting on my swing set with Autumn Ivie in our swimsuits after running through sprinklers. We ate onion rings and Kool-Aid. Sometimes we would take my boombox outside on my driveway and do dances on my lawn for Brandon across the street. He was probably in high school and we were like 6. Haha that's so funny now that I think of it. I can still see us jammin' out to some real nice Aaron Carter or something. We were precious. The best summer memories were at the Pleasant Grove pool with my cousins, Chloe and Zoe. We were so funny. We would splash people and then jump under the water like they couldn't see us. After pool adventures, we would go to their house and play in the bath tub. We would pretend that we were at a hotel in a hot tub and put tons of bubbles in the tub. My aunt always had lilac bubble bath. I had really fun summers with those girls. I miss seeing them all. And I miss summer days at McDonald's with my aunt.

Fall was always the Halloween Parade in my neighborhood. I tried to win an award every year but someone always beat me. Chantel Miner always won the award for 'cutest costume', but she was a cat every year so that sort of pissed me off. No variety, no award, right?. Well I was always a rockstar or princess or something totally unoriginal. No wonder I didn't get any awards. I remember Autumn was a leaf one year, cause her name is Autumn. All the adults got the joke but I was just so lost. Of course, I pretended to understand the joke. The leaves were beautiful in Alpine around fall time. My favorite one was the one across the street in the Huggard's backyard. I would go take pictures of it, cause I thought I was some big shot photographer with my fake cell phone that took pictures. Get on my level, right? No. So lame Aly. I was always so bummed about fall though, cause that meant that it got dark quicker and it wasn't warm enough to meet Autumn at the park every night before and after dinner. Fall also meant basketball season starting, which meant no more daddy. No more playing baseball in the front yard, no more throwing the football at the park, no more watching ESPN with him late at night.

Winter. Winter in Alpine. So much snow is up there, it's ridiculous. It's beautiful at first, but then after the first week it turns into gross, brown slush that's not even fun to play in. Sledding is fabulous up there though. Sledding at Grandma Smith's was really fun. It was a really long, steep hill starting at the top of her driveway and going through to her backyard and then down to the bottom of their enormous lot. Halfway down, there was a huge rock wall. The kids didn't usually go down the hill by themselves because you had to steer away from the wall, or you'd be stone faced, quite self explanatory. The first time I went down by myself was a disaster. Let's be real, anything involving a steep hill, a rock wall, and needing common sense is NOT an activity for me. I started at the very top (which was also risky, cause it got icy up there) and started down the hill. It was fun, until the wall. That's the end of that story. Christmas day was always, well, like Christmas day. Grandma and Grandpa came to see our presents. I always wore my new cozy pajamas and we make yummy breakfast. Cinnamon sugar comes to mind. Then later, we'd all go to Grandma's and brag about the presents we got.

Spring always felt like a miracle, but it also felt like it took forever to come. The snow doesn't melt in the mountains until the middle of summer. But when spring FINALLY hits, the flowers in front of our cute little house would start coming up and my mom would get so excited. The whole city of Alpine smelled like smoke. Not like nasty smoker smoke, yummy smoke. Like bonfires and new beginnings. My little brother and I would go shoot hoops at the park across the street, and I'd go hit the volleyball around with my mom. It was finally warm enough to roll the windows down in the car, which I know my mommy hated (sorry girl).

So long story short, seasons change. It seems like just when you're getting to love a season, it changes. Kinda like life I guess. You get comfortable and then some sort of change hits. I've learned that this year. But sometimes the change is a good thing. In fact, the change is ALWAYS a good thing. At first it doesn't feel like it. It just feels like someone's messing with your happiness. Like your plans are being wrecked all together. But in the long run, that change really saves you. It brings you new memories. Not better memories, not worse ones. But new memories. Memories you'll never forget. But you have to know that one day those new memories won't be new anymore. They'll fade and new ones will come. But you'll always have the old ones to look back on. To me, that's the beauty of life. Some days are so boring, some days are so eventful. But it changes. And either way, you make memories. Only if you have the right attitude.

So buck up, kid... and make this life worth every single change.

Crossing My Fingers

Thursday, November 10, 2011

My best friend read my blog last night. I woke up to a text that said, "I want an awareness shirt as soon as possible.", and a 5 page text telling me that she looks up to me and feels so blessed to be my friend. THAT is true friendship.

I'm currently wearing a PKU awareness shirt. And after waking up to Arrie's texts, I've decided I'm going to wear one of these shirts to school tomorrow. I'll take one for her and we'll both wear one. Wowzers. I'm scared. I know for a fact I'll get questions and comments on it. That scares me. Really bad. Half of me can imagine myself tearing up when someone asks. But the other half imagines me smiling proudly and saying, "It's my shirt, duh."

My motivation to swallow my pride and wear this shirt tomorrow wasn't only Arrie's amazing words of encouragement and support, but little Jacob Woodward. One of my teacher's sons, Jacob, has cancer. I hate cancer. Jacob's hair started falling out. The chemo will do that to you, that's what I learned from Devin. Jacob shaved his head last week, as did my teacher. What a good dad. That's when it really hit me that Jacob can't hide his disease. His cute, bald head says it all. His cute, chubby face says it all. People will possibly suspect something and he does not have the ability to hide it. Cutest kid ever though, let's be real.

Same goes for my friend, Devin, who I've mentioned a lot in my blog. Not only does he have cancer, but he is blind AND in a wheel chair. People know within the first glance that he is different. I'm very lucky to be able to hide my medical differences. So so lucky. And even though this is so hard for me, I have to keep in mind how blessed I am and thank God every day for that.

So I'm doing this not only to make my best friend proud, but for Jacob, for Devin, and for God. He made me who I am so I could endure this and to be proud of myself. I'm sure He wants me to hold my head high and take pride in my differences, no matter how hard it will be.

Thank you Arrie, thank you Jacob, thank you Devin. I'm doing this for you guys and I'm NOT backing down.

I'm still scared. And I really hope wearing this shirt doesn't bring me down even more. But I'm going to be strong for those little boys. I'm going to be strong for my best friend who is proud of me. I'm going to make her even more proud. I'm going to prove to myself that I am strong- that I can do hard things and hold my head high.

But as of now, I'm just crossing my fingers and I won't stop doing so until tomorrow is over.

A Guitar And A Sad Song

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Tonight I went on a drive. I listened to the country station. I don't know what it is about country music lately. Maybe it's the fact that it always reminds me of her. Almost 4 years now, that's freaking crazy. Sometimes it's still weird that she's not here. I mean, I'm used to it. But I'm still not content with it. I'm not content with anyone dying at an early age, whether it be natural causes or a substance abuse issue like in this case. Maybe it's because country music soothes me. Yeah, that's it. It soothes me. It represents a simple life. A life when a beer in one hand and a guitar in the other is just enough anyone ever needs. My life will never be that simple. Not in my wildest dreams.

I went to The Malt Shoppe today with a couple of girls. They all got shakes. I ordered fries. I kinda just looked at the fries at first. Picked one up, circled it around like a pen on the tray. Writing my name in grease. Then I looked up at the other girls. They were conversing as usual. I don't think anyone realizes how hard it is for me to be different. I don't like to complain much, because it's not a big deal. I don't have rashes all over my body (usually), I don't have seizures, I don't have cancer. But I'm not normal. I'm just not. There is NO way around it, no matter how badly I wish there was. By the end of dinner, I had eaten my fries. Only because another girl had paid for them. I wish I stayed home tonight. I went home and I cried.

I was talking to my fitness teacher about my health issues. A girl butted in and started going on and on about how my life sucks, and if she were me she would rather commit suicide than be in my position. Isn't it enough, I thought, for me to go through this as a personal struggle? Why do people have to make it a bigger deal than it is? I guess that's what I get for trying to suck it up and be open to people about this. I went home and I cried.

I went home for lunch today. My friends went somewhere to eat. Somewhere I couldn't eat. I wasn't bothered by it at all. I have the best friends ever, and they were willing to go somewhere else for me. But I didn't want to do that. I didn't want to bring attention to this stupid disease. I didn't want this to be causing other people restrictions. I'm not letting this disease ruin other people's lives. One life is enough. I got in my car and cried on the way to my house to eat a bag of Skittles.

I opened my drawers to get dressed this morning. My PKU Awareness shirt was sitting on top. It's so dang cute. 'PKU Awareness' printed across it in pink, bold lettering. And a cartoon of stick figures all holding hands. I wanted to wear it so bad. But then again, I'd rather die than wear that shirt to school. I'd be the only one in the school who had that shirt, maybe even the only one who knew what PKU Awareness was for. I have extra awareness shirts. Maybe I'll give them out, I thought. Then I laughed. Who was I kidding? No one would ever want to wear a shirt advertising awareness for my misery.

I wish I could give up. Honestly, I wish I could throw in the towel and say, Screw it I'm done with trying. But I really can't. I can NOT risk my life. I don't have the guts. And I don't want to live my life as a mentally retarded girl. But then again, I don't wanna live my life like this. Maybe I don't want to live this life at all.

Tonight I'm going to wear my PKU Awareness shirt to bed. That way, I know I'm still holding on. It's by a thread, but at least I'm holding on. Oh how badly I wish I could wear it to school, give the extra shirts out to people for them to wear too, make myself feel less hidden away. Make me feel like I'm NOT constantly trying to hide something from people. 

So here I sit, watching the Country Music Awards, wishing I could sit on a stool with a guitar in hand and sing a sad song.
But I don't think I have the motivation to do even that at this point.

Good night bloggers.

Gossip Gossip, Ladies Please Just Stop It

Monday, November 7, 2011

I've always been a social butterfly. From the time I was little and saying "Hiiiiii" to everyone, I have always loved people and interacting with them.

But as time went on, it became harder to make friends. With girls, especially. They become so mean. Some turn mean in high school, but some turn mean in junior high. Even in elementary school there were girls who were becoming the stereotypical mean girl in high school. I don't understand it. Why do girls put other girls down all the time? Why do they always have to be better than the other? Why are they so desperate to have the best and be the best? And the number 1 question that comes into my head about girls, why are they so willing to risk a friendship with one of their girls to have something they want? Well, I think I've figured it out. At least a couple of reasons

Girls cant watch other girls have something they don't. It's not okay with them. They want to be on top of the food chain, above everyone else in everything. And when they see someone who has a better chance at perfection, they do everything they can to destroy that. Which is stupid.

Lots of girls are insecure. Who can blame them? It's so hard to be happy about yourself with media and high set expectations for girls today. But at the same time, it's really not that hard. You just have to love who you are and what you stand for, rather than what you have and what you can do. When girls are insecure, they try to bring others down so they feel more superior to them. It's selfish, that's all there is to it. Selfish. Greedy. Girls.

Ah man. Boys suck. They're yucky. But girls like them, naturally. THAT is called estrogen. And THAT is a discussion for you to have with your mum's later (if you don't already know about that, I'd suggest talking to your mum's sooner than later. Jus sayin). Every girl wants the best boy out there. Every girl has different taste, but let's face it. There's always that one guy in school that every girl would go to the ends of the universe AND back to get. It gets catty when girls are crushin' on the same guys. Catty catty catty, my friends.

Clearly, girls are just dramatic. And it's been quite the adventure for me trying to find some solid friends. I've met the fakes, I've met the materialistics, I've met the selfish, I've met the backstabbers. Hey, I feel like I've met them all. And now I've finally found them. The best friends I've ever had.

I lied in bed last night in awe. Really, it's unbelievable to me. All this time I was selling myself short. I was just believing that real true friends didn't exist. Sure, it was a nice thing to think about, but I really didn't think there were friends like this in the world. Little did I know, they lived only 20 miles away from me in a college town I had been to numerous times.

Arrie Hernandez and Courtney Diamond.

Hands down, some of the best friends I've ever had. They don't talk smack on me behind my back. They don't talk smack IN FRONT OF MY FACE. They don't try to be better than me. They don't lie to me. They don't care about that stuff. They just love me for me and want to have a good dandy time with us girls. And that's what I've needed this whole time.

You two are the best friends I could ever ask for. You've given me the funnest experiences I can ever remember and I can't even imagine the fun we have to come. I really do love you girls so much. Thanks for being the answers to my prayers. I hope I can give you girls everything you've given me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.


A Sluff Worth While

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Yesterday I sluffed 5th period. Bad Aly, bad! Nah. Not really. I went with my dad to see Thomas S. Monson, president of the LDS church, speak at a BYU devotional. It may have been the most eye opening experience I've had in a really long time. I went into the Marriott Center with a not so great attitude. To be honest, I don't like going to religious things. I love religion and think it's absolutely beautiful that we can all have different beliefs about this life, prior lies and even later ones. But sometimes I feel like it's misinterpreted, people take it in the wrong ways. So I will admit, I wasn't too happy to be there, but I was out of 5th period psychology so THAT was a bonus.

I sat at the very top of the arena with my dad. I scooted away from him, he scooted toward me and put his arm around me. He told me he loved me. I stayed silent. My mind raced at the speed of light, but at the same time, it was completely emotionless. It was a weird feeling. A feeling I've never had before. I watched college students alike shuffle into the arena. Tall kids, short kids, black kids, white kids, kids in wheelchairs, kids using sign language- THAT was amazing. Every kind of ethnicity and ability you can think of, it felt like I saw at least one of each. It seemed like a million people in that room; just to see one old man talk about religion.

An old guy started playing the organ. I laughed at him a little bit inside. He was brittle, his hair looked like a thin layer of straw on top of his head. The music was pretty, though. People were quiet, but still there was a wave of side conversations being held in whispered tones throughout the 22,700 occupied seats in the arena. I put my head down. Thinking, of course. I'm always thinking. Thinking about these people. They all have smiles on their faces, they all know for themselves who they are and where they're going, they all know the purpose of life. Then the whispered conversations ended, and the sound of denim rubbing together filled the audience. People were slowly standing up. Some people cried. I looked down what seemed to be a million miles down to the stage. President Monson walked up onto the stand. It was quiet, despite the hymns being played by the man with silly hair and bony structure.

President Monson spoke. He was funny, I giggled a couple of times even though I thought I didn't want to be there. That feeling did wear off. Throughout his talk, I really just watched the people in that huge arena.

I watched the cute couple next to me, who looked to be newly weds. They loved each other and believe they will be together forever. That made me smile.

I watched the group of guys, who looked to be macho men.
They weren't too cool to be at a religious event.
That made me smile.

I looked at the group of deaf students at the bottom, signing the hymns sung.
They weren't playing their 'pity me' card.
That made me smile.

I did pay attention to some of President Monson's talk, though. Coincidentally enough, he talked about how young adult should try to find out their beliefs for themselves; that living off of other people's testimonies in their churches wasn't always going to be good enough. They needed to know what they believed in.
I think I know now.

I believe in what makes me happy.

It's that easy. Religion doesn't need to be rules and books and doctrine. Sure, that's nice. But isn't religion supposed to bring happiness? Making people happy brings me happiness. Telling the truth brings me happiness. Being my best self brings me happiness. Respecting EVERYONE brings me happiness.

That's what I believe in.

Being a good person, trying your best to please God in every way possible. Because there IS a God. There's no way this beautiful world could have been made without God's hand, and we see God's hand in all things. So give back... not just by being a cookie cutter, church going, scripture reading, person. But by being a good person with a gentle heart, being open and inviting to other people, serving people who need it AND people who don't. Make people happy, and you'll make yourself happy.

So no, I may not be into completely organized religion. I may not believe in what everyone else does, that's not the point of individuality and religion. It was there all along, but it took me an arena full of college kids, an old man from Salt Lake City, and a brittle man playing an organ to see that. But I can 110% honestly say that I'm happy with the things I believe in now. And that's the point of life, isn't it? Be happy, make others happy with you, and NEVER forget,

God is good.