I think I can, I think I can...

To say I have a love/hate relationship with my body would be an understatement.

I love it. I really do. I love each and every curve.
But I hate how it has a want for foods that aren't healthy and insists on continuing to grow outwards.
(Who doesn't hate that??)

So here we are, June 7th, starting on my get-fit journey. (Again.)

This morning I got up and worked out before going to work.
(Yay me! I am literally the worst morning person ever. This is a huge win for me.)

I ate a delicious spinach salad topped with just enough shredded mozzarella, craisins, and eggs for lunch instead of my normal fast-food diet.
(That bacon chicken sandwich was really calling my name, too.)

And I'm buying a working scale.
(Those things really are the devil.)


This may be about changing the physical, but it takes a hell of a lot of mental.
(Meh. Here we go again...)

Always,
L.A.

Summer lovin' had me a blast...

Unfortunately though this summer loving isn't the romantic kind...hehe
None the less: I am loving summer!

I love bonfires that happen at least once a week.
I love seeing old friends. I love meeting up with new ones.
I love working for my father at a 9-5 job that gives me complete freedom on my nights and weekends.
I love that I've become the owner of not one but two typewriters in the last week!
    (and one I found at a garage sale for only 50 cents! how much luckier can a girl get?!)
I love reading a book a day if I feel like it and getting to spend time in the library leisurely.
I love rainstorms. and thunder storms.
I love seeing my family every day.

Hope summer is treating you wonderfully as well!
Always,
L.A.


And just for fun I decided to link up the song that inspired this title.
I was obsessed with this movie in elementary school!

To make your monday:

I know I've been posting a lot today, but you all just have to watch this! It'll definitely help you get through the Monday madness! I may or may not have teared up a little bit while watching it myself. But hey. I'm about as cheesy as they get and a hopeless romantic on top of it. How could I have not loved this? Enjoy!

Always,
L.A.

A manifesto of sorts: A brief look at me

I am a tall, curvy, curly haired almost nineteen year old.

I am the oldest of seven children. Even though that's outside of the norm these days, I wouldn't want my family to be any less crazy. I could go on and on about my family. Yesterday was my parents' twenty-third wedding anniversary. They are just as in love with each other as they were twenty-three years ago, and they have no shortage of love to share with each of us kids.  I love them like crazy.

I've had the same best friend since I was seven years old.  We are so different but so much alike.  She longs for a acreage in Montana.  I'd love a little flat in NYC.  We both enjoy playing our music a little too loud, dancing in the car, bonfires, laughing, and just hanging out.  I don't know what I'd do without her.  She's my sister.

I did everything in high school.  I started varsity basketball and volleyball three out of four years. I was in band and choir. I was in the plays, in national honor society, and class president my junior and senior year. I was student body president my senior year, and homecoming royalty. I like to think I was friends with most people in my small high school, or at least I got along with most, but I was never "popular" thank goodness for that.  I was fine with my little circle of friends who just got me and who'd always have my back.  I graduated valedictorian of my class.  If you search the internet hard enough you can find the speech I gave at graduation on youtube, weird as that is. (Thanks Uncle Tim. Can't wait for my future employers to see that little gem.)


I now find myself done with my freshman year of college, and I've emerged from that first year a better me.  And I've made some pretty amazing friends to boot.  I am so blessed.

I am a terrible speller.  I am clumsy as hell.  I cherish the little things.  I grew a half an inch in the past year.  My hair has a mind of it's own.  I am too competitive for my own good.  I'm a neat freak.  I love to laugh.  I secretly wish I liked coffee.  I love chick flicks.  Hate scary movies.  I love to read.  I love to sing.  I'm Catholic born and raised.  My faith is incredibly important to me.  I smile at random people I pass on the street.  I strike up conversations with strangers in the supermarket.  All in all I just want to do my part, no matter how small, to make this world a better place.

Always,
L.A.

Nerdy girl problems

Late night fun fact:
I just started crushing on a guy more because he used a word not in a normal person's everyday vocabulary in a tweet.  I didn't realize how absolutely nerdy I was until now.

Always,
L.A.


P.S. As much as I'm going to regret this in the morning when I have to get up for work, I really have missed my nocturnal way of life.

You cannot tell me this isn't cool

Can you say talented?? I bet these ladies can.
Wow. Still in awe over here.

Always,
L.A.

Blue eyes and changing times

I've recently found myself thinking of, literally dreaming of, and dwelling on, this.... boy? man? friend? crush? classmate? guy?  I suppose what I classify him as is not the important part.  The important part is that he was someone who I used to be rather close with.  I never knew exactly what we were.  Most of the time I didn't care.  I just knew that I cared an awful lot about this person, and no matter what anyone else thought, our relationship, whatever it was, was very important to me.

This damn friendship of ours though.  Gosh was it grueling.  Yet for the most part it endured through the years.

Until this past year.  That's when everything got messy and everything went to shit.

Lately that's been bothering me.  I miss him, damn it.

I miss that boy who could make me laugh at the drop of a hat.  Who made me more compassionate by just allowing me to hear bits and pieces of his story unfold in almost every conversation we had.  He didn't realize how beautiful of a person he was.  But I did.  He refused to believe he was good.

But he was.

The sad part about a boy with a shy smile and honest clear blue eyes, is that when that boy begins to believe he isn't good, he stops caring to try to be.  That changes him.  It twists him into someone you don't know anymore.  And that hurts.

It hurts like hell.

Always,
L.A.