Please Turn Red

Please turn red, another light means another minute, another kiss that I thought I'd miss -Andy Davis

Sitting in the white chevy truck, 16 year old girl, blonde hair blowing, windows down, music loud, with the most handsome boy next to me. His guitar picks on the dash, worn converse on the floor and amp in the bed, paradise was where I was. Our hands met in the middle as you stroked the top of my hand. You kept glancing my way, smiling as the sun hit your curls, floating as we flew down the road, making my heart do the same. Your lips mouthed "your so beautiful" and each time felt like the first time you spoke those three words... butterfly inducing.

We near a light, as I pray it turns red so I can keep this feeling lingering just a bit longer. The sun soaks on my tan skin yet creating goosebumps as you lean over and kiss me. Stomach feels like the 1st drop on a roller-coaster, the happiness of school letting out for the summer, the perfect combination of hot concrete and rain. Time flies as I am surrounded by your Irish Spring scent lingering on your arm as your hand cups my face. Your eyes opening, giving me one last kiss as you grab hold of the steering wheel as the light turns green. Where we are going, it doesn't matter. As long as I had you and red lights, I was in heaven.

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

I have compiled a brief list of things I have been thinking I need going into the year 2012. I probably should have started by saying hello... sorry... hello Santa, I hope you and Rudolph are doing well. I have been very pleasant if you knock off the times I curse in traffic, called my brother a douche or acted like the princess and the pea. All other times, well, the one hour of the day while I am not cursing, is when I am sleeping,  and I have been an angel. I have been trying to improve which should be the main point. I use my turn signal 70% of the time and only Facebook stalk my exes 15 times a day. I even started eating spinach instead of a 1/2 bag of chips. See? My excellence is shining through.

For Christmas I would like:

1) My inner thighs to shrink and for the fat to go to my boobs. Some elf invented the Shake Weight and the Thigh Burner of Hell, so I am sure you could whip something up.

2) A phone that doesn't "miraculously" malfunction and shut down after 2 days of use. The Verizon sign as it waves while jumping off a cliff doesn't make my day, especially when I'm lost and need my GPS.

3) Those really pretty heels, or that Marc Jacobs purse? You could make that sale sign say 50% off, right?

4) A robot, like in the tv show the Jetsons, that cleans my room, dishes and probably if I asked it to my butt, yet I'd rather that function not be available. I can't tell you how nice it would be to stay in my warm bed while it walked my dogs in 32 degree weather.

5) Finally I would enjoy if Christmas lasted longer then a month. Granted people are starting before Halloween, but my roommate won't let me listen to Music until after Thanksgiving. I need more then a month of Nat King Cole.

I know your a busy man, but I learned early that a way to a man's heart is food, so I will leave on my kitchen table a plate of double chocolate fudge with recece's pieces cookies with chocolate frosting and sprinkles and a glass of 1% milk since I know you may be watching your intake of calories on Christmas Eve. I hope your reindeer like green beans and carrot medley in a butter sauce. Just toss it in the microwave for a minute and your good to go, they will never go back to hay.

If your feeling especially generous you can have Gerard Butler or Channing Tatum next to me in bed when I wake up. Both would be awesome but I surely will settle for just one.

Yours truly, and anxiously waiting in apartment 517 in Austin Texas,

Natalie

Starving to be Skinny

(I debated on posting this due to the severity, but this is a blog and after the conversation I had today I decided to post it. I hope somehow I can touch someone, anyone even if in a small manner)

I couldn't sleep yesterday, odd? No. Anywho I decided to look at pictures. I am not sure if that was the best idea. As I look back I notice the first thing, my weight. Freshman year of college, I was stick thin, and gradually my weight went higher as the years went on. Three months ago I was at my heaviest and you could tell in my face. Ms. Chubsters! I am not sure what had changed but I drastically cut my calories to 900 a day, which was told is a starvation diet. I began to run as well, and I lost 33 pounds in 2.5 months.

Running, "starving" myself was a drug. It was one of the first times since high school my dad complimented me. When you lose weight your supposed to feel good right? Motivation to continue? The pants sizes lowering and the boys calling gaining? Blame it on my self esteem but I felt if I didn't keep losing or at least staying the same, I was putting people down. I was beautiful when I was 33 pounds heavier yet I never received that "attention" and "wow-factor."

I honestly don't know what weight I should be. In high school I was depressed and had a glass of OJ for breakfast and a brownie for lunch. I would then swim on the HS team for 2 hard hours and pick around at my food for dinner. My sadness filled my stomach so I never yearned for food. In college I was about the same weight I was now. I had leveled out, enjoyed eating with the girls and let myself enjoy pizza and cheetos. But my boyfriend at the time said "your getting fat." Even though a total douche, on the outside I didn't let it get to me, but a girl that has been struggling with a family that jokes and calls me "the whale" or as my dad said, "You will feel better if you lost some weight," or the best friend who is 20 pounds lighter saying she's fat, it all got to me in the inside.

Some where I said "fuck it" and I let all my sadness of never being enough roll off and I let myself go. I ate and ate. But I realized being super heavy wasn't making me happier either. So the honest truth? For the girls that may not want to come out, I'll do it for you. The beginning of losing weight I started intentionally puking. For the record I hated it, but thought it would be a quick fix. But I had "let go" and ate almost a whole pizza and didn't want it to stay on me. Instead of seeing a girl that ate as an occasional indulgence I pictured my father, my mother who said "good for you" at my "starvation" diet, and my roommate to ate like a twig. I see them, I see boys wanting a skinny girl, and I see myself with her head held low.

So I stopped. Not for me though, but for the kids I work with who have been abused/neglected. Thats not who I should be, and not what I want to be. I work with kids who may resort to that one day because they were never loved or told how special they are just the way they are. I had to find just one reason to stop. Granted no one is the perfect mold, but I wanted to be the person that followed what I preached to the kids. I tell my kids how proud I am of them and that they are rockstars. I want to plant one seed in them somewhere in their life, so that they have a shot, and they know whether they were abused, neglected, short, tall, 200 pounds, or 100 that they are so special and have amazing gifts to share. Even if I never felt enough, I am going to give that to anyone I meet so they don't have to try and fit a mold to satisfy others. YOU ARE ENOUGH. YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. YOU ARE WONDERFUL. JUST THE WAY YOU ARE RIGHT NOW.

Today I am Happy

"Today I am happy because I don't have any reason not to be"

So many times I find myself finding a reason not to be happy. Something could always be better. Which is true. I would love to have an extra day off, to not be over 120 pounds and having a ton of bills to pay. When I stop though and look around me, I have so many things that so many others don't.

I have two dogs that worship the ground I walk on.
I have a roof over my head and a christmas tree in it that sparkles when the cool breeze blows in.
I have an amazing mother that listens to me rant and vent about everything under the sun.
I have a dad that realizes that I enjoy being pampered and supports me even when I should do it myself.
I have an amazing job that pushes me to be a better person every day and gives me daily challenges.
I have a car that works and gets me to point a to b.
I have an amazing heart that will get me a wonderful man eventually, take me great places, and give me wonderful opportunities.
I know what I want and wont settle and that makes me pretty darn special.

If that's not enough and I still find things to complain about, I really need to stop, take a breath, and be happy that I am living and still able to hold my head high. I am going to go far and today I don't need a reason to be nothing but happy.

Sunday Morning

Sunday morning rain is falling

Steal some covers share some skin

Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable

You twist to fit the mold that I am in

But things just get so crazy living life gets hard to do

And I would gladly hit the road get up and go if I knew

That someday it would bring me back to you

That someday it would bring me back to you


-Maroon Five

My dog is a Racist.

My dog is a racist.

the "cuteness" who wears a devilish grin :)

And I am saying this as nicely as possible.

I take my dogs on walks everyday on trails behind our apartment complexes. Normal people walk their normal selves and their dogs and usually mind their own business besides the occasional butt sniffing (dogs only, mind you). Lilly takes it to the extreme.

Just on our walk today she ran after a black guy that was minding his own business. I have nothing against other races but apparently Lilly does. Full on ran after him barking and pretending she was a 100 pound dog on a mission. He saw right past her. She has barked at a girl that told me she was afraid of dogs, though I think Lilly smelled her fear off the bat. She wouldn't let a nerdy white guy through a gate or let a little old lady go to her door in peace.

She also hates this basset hounds. There are two that we occasionally see on our walks and she tries to jump on their backs. Poor things are so long and just awkward that they have an extreme disadvantage. I really think she is jealous of their gigantic ears. Her bat ears are not enough compared to their cape-like ears that drag on the ground.

She also takes a "calling" to people at the worst times. I haven't slept for 26 hours, need a shower desperately, and have bags and leftover makeup on my face that is starting to look like Picasso. Lilly just had to trot next to a GORGEOUS guy and make friends and not leave his side on this particular afternoon. I would't mind if I wasn't sweaty and panting for breath. Not a good first impression.

So what do I do? Pretending she's not my dog doesn't work, because after every incident she runs up to me yearning for the praise she feels she deserves. Pretending she is just a little chihuahua pretending to be a big dog has gotten old when it happens every time, so I have decided that karma will hit her when a dog decides her ears are too big and she looks like a rat and decides to jump on her.

you are my coffee

"To some people coffee gives them energy.
Coffee gives them the fight to stay up for just a minute longer.
Coffee gets them through the hardest day.
Coffee puts a smile on their face with just the smell.
Coffee comforts them when nothing else can.
Coffee is what they look for when they wake up.
Coffee is the only way to start their day and without it nothing goes right.
Coffee to some people is not in the drink itself but a person, Natalie you are my coffee :)"  


- I never look at coffee the same xo

Lotion covered Memories.

Do you ever "run" into something that when you are around it brings back a memory? A Backstreet Boy song reminds you of your first crush, rubber jelly shoes of a hot summer day spitting watermelon seeds on the trampoline, or the way cedar balls remind you of your grandmother's old dolls? I love "running" into smells and/or objects that bring a past moment that collides into your present.

There is a hand lotion at work that every time I use it, takes me back to "wilderness" days. I had been sent away for being a rebellious teenager at the age of 15. The first few days of being sent to a dessert, society still hung on. I could smell my flowery shampoo lingering on my hair, my red nail polish still bright and red, and my shaven legs still smooth. But it went away while hiking miles in the desert and cooking by a fire. My underarms began to smell like a man's, as my legs began to look like a caveman getting darker with dirt and hair, the nail polish fading quickly from my nails.

You know how some desert animals roll in dirt to keep them cool? I felt like I rolled in dirt to cover up the smell. Everything I used to be back on "Earth" was no more, and the girl that showered daily took a water bottle sized amount to clean once every week, if lucky.

But sometimes, if we had extra water before going to the next spot, this girl out of the group would wash our hair. She would take camp soap and "clean" the dirt out. We would wash our entire body as well to feel totally clean and lather lotion to make our desert skin moist. As soon as we were clean, the barren land covered us up again. And by the time we put lotion on, dirt was already on our skin and would leave lotion dirt streaks. There was nothing though like being in the middle of nowhere and feeling the air cool your naked body and feeling clean if only for ten minutes.

So every time I used this lotion I picture the days where dirt in your teeth was a daily occurrence, but when the lotion was on your skin your felt almost princess like in a world covered in dirt.

10 things that boys do that are ANNOYING

1) Just because you have a six pack, almost an 8, doesn't mean it needs to be your default picture

2) "What are you up to" does not mean I can't read right through it. You really are saying your wanting me to help your "horny-toad" self out. Not happening.

3) Do not slap each other's butts. Gross. I know if girls slapped each other's butts it would turn you on, but it doesn't do the same for us. That is unless its Channing Tatum and Taylor Lautner, then go right ahead.

4) If your going to shave your chest, continue doing so, I personally don't enjoy snuggling next to a prickly pear.

5) Don't ask me what I am doing every 3 minutes. I. Haven't. Moved. My. Lazy. Ass. ANYWHERE.

6) Stop breast feeding from your mother's tits. Do your own laundry and bills.

7) Stop dancing like you are on dancing with the stars, a stripper, or Usher. You are none of the above. Let the girl handle the dance moves on the floor.

8) Text a girl back with more then "ok". I understand you don't want to step in "hot water" but its more annoying then a wedgie in a go-go dancer's butt when you say that one word or change the subject completely.

9) Arguing to prove your point, especially with another male, does not make you hotter. A one upper does not give you any brownie points.

10) Call a girl 'babe', 'beautiful', and compliment her here and there, even if we are a bitch on a rampage. You'll go far :)

The End.

Under the African Sky...

I have never seen the stars shine so bright and never imagined viewing the sky so clean and dark. It looked as if it was a dark sea, with no fog that so many times is lit from the city. Seeing the dark with the stars so contrast and glimmering, I never wanted to leave Africa. I could sit amongst the stars at night for the rest of my life and be content. Africa had many things that would persuade someone not to enjoy the scence, as the slums that carried a horrible smell, when people slept under moldy sheets and a house made of cardboard. You would see most of them outside rather then inside, and only until night came, did I realize why they did so.

I am trying to find the words that could capture how magnificent the sky way. The stars reminded me of the HED lights that are so popular among stores now. The purest white. They glittered as if water had been dropped on each one and white light shown through. It was like snow that shines when the sun dances upon it in the morning, as if diamonds moved like the ocean, the waves tumbling onto the sand. It made you feel as little as an ant but big enough to want to reach the stars to touch one. It was truly one of the most humbling experiences. Knowing that there was so much vastness to it that I would never be able to comprehend its greatness, yet lucky enough to be still and enjoy the beauty.

I only speak English... Gracias!!

I live in America. I speak English, for the most part, or as some want to call it, "Natalish." Either way I speak the native tongue. I don't speak Spanish, or French but do speak sarcasm fluently. If I got to a different country, like Mexico, I don't waltz into a store and assume that they are going to speak English. Touring around Mexico I did learn that a lot of the natives knew a couple English phrases and used the very often, "Come look", "Cheap prices", "will negotiate". The last phrase sounded like net-go-ihate but I am not going to grade them when I can barley speak it myself. I learned a few phrases myself going to tour. "No gracias", "Donde es el bano", and "No comprende". I probably didn't even say the phrases right, but I tried, which the effort should account for.

I am going to try not to be rude under all means, but I apologize in advance for any feelings hurt. I was on the computer looking for jobs, because I know when I get booted from my parents nest, I won't be able to afford all of my bills. I live very comfortably and like to keep that cushion plump. So looking on Craigslist for jobs more then HALF, and I am not exaggerating said I needed to be bilingual. Seriously?! I am sure that if teacher and/or my parents knew that I would have to speak two languages that I would have learners this from birth and instead of classical music being played at bedtime, the salsa dancing and spanish music would have been played. I took 5 years of Spanish and spent more time in "jail" for not understanding and speaking English in an only Spanish speaking class. I sucked and basically failed.


I get frustrated when I walk around and everyone is speaking Spanish. I don't understand a thing they are saying and feel that they are laughing at me because my zipper is undone. I constantly check myself when they start laughing and talking at 100 mph. I walk through stores and I hear them talking half English have Spanish. Yes, I am jealous but I already get confused enough, dang. I get on customer service to try and get my phone fixed and I can't understand anything they say. I politely asked 3 times to get someone different because I couldn't understand what they were saying and vice a versa. 3 different people, all with an accent I can't understand. I no flat out say, "Manager please" and pray I get someone I can understand.


I have plenty of friends that can speak fluently... curse them... and am trying to have them teach me. Seriously though, if you come to America, please speak English. I could have more opportunities to get a job and would not curse as much over customer service. If I come to Mexico, France or China I wouldn't ask you to adhere to me and my language, so please, please learn English. Gracias.

Fairy tale

Once in awhile, 
Right in the middle of an ordinary life, Love gives us a fairy tale.

~ Anonymous ~

my friday...

Bubble Bath

John Mayer

Glass of Beer

Michael Buble

2 dogs who love to snuggle

Norah Jones

Cosmo Magazine

=

an amazing Friday night

Crush Whore...

I had a journal growing up starting in middle school. It was lime green and had a cartoon girl on the front with probably saying "KEEP OUT." I used this a bit through high-school as well, but the only documentation in the journal was one of three things, if:

1) I liked a boy
2) I hated a girl
3) or hated my parents

When I looked back it seemed that I was always skipping between boys. I even remember an entry saying I couldn't decide which boy I wanted to like. Reading it, I remember being disgusted thinking what a "crush whore." I could go back and recall every moment I wrote about, and at the time I felt I was just being normal ol me and that every crush made sense. But having the only entries I wrote about being about boys was hard to see the in-between moments and the boy "hardships."

I sometimes read through my blog entries these days looking for inspiration or out of pure boredom. I keep reading entries of how a boy (though I never mention names) makes my heart skip and blah blah. As he quickly come in, he just as quick takes off into the distance, as another one knocks at my door. Reading these entries I got the same feeling as I did while reading a journal entry as a naive girl. CRUSH WHORE. I feel somewhere between 10 and 24 I would have noticed my trend or have learned about the men I gravitate towards. Yet I still write about the different boys whom I could "see a future" with.

And this evening another boy will come, whether or not he graces the rest of my blog entries or just a few who knows. The in-betweens aren't long, should be longer possibly. But like my mom says, "You have to kiss a few (in my case a lot) of toads to find a prince." And one day I will find the lucky guy that will take away the in-betweens, and make my "crush" turn into the Forever every girl dreams about.