Oops almost forgot

Whoops, I completely forgot that I even have a blog, not that anyone reads it. Blogs are meant for artists, speakers, activists, religious buffs, and anyone with a strong determined mind. No wonder I have one follower... my mother, who is of the above, an artist. She has a reason to blog, she has motivation from the very bosom of inspiration from the paint that flows from a brush and the pigment that appears on a page. Me I'm just a kid who likes to write, but whilst I have been busy in school I have learned where I want to go in life. I am going to be a teacher, a High School history teacher to be specific. I have been taking this wonderful class called Teachers For Tomorrow, or TFT for short, we learn about what teaching is all about and how we as teachers make a difference in the world. Once a month we visit a middle school and talk to the kids about developing their attitudes towards their higher education system. Sounds boring but we are always doing activities that give them a break from (in my case) a boring math class, and gives them time to find good things about school.

I constantly enjoy my class, I share the class with my assigned partner and friend. We've gone a total of two times this year so far, only starting in November and I have learned that my class will always respond when they get too loud if you whisper ,"if you can hear me clap your hands". it makes them pay attention and listen closely because it gives them an excuse to clap their hands. I know because it  worked when I was younger, I would always wait for when the teacher would say it so I would be the first to clap.

Aside from my new career choice, not much has been going on, just the usual holidays events. Last night I was at my family gathering for the holidays and my cousin Gin and I were sitting in the Kitchen singing "Last Christmas, I gave you my heart..." it was fun because we only know the chorus of the song and the rest we made up due to the lack of words.

Well I guess that's all I'm going to say for this year! <3 Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Feliz Navidad, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Holidays and a happy new year!! ^.^

I lay my head to rest ....on the lawn

I plug my buds into my ear

Walking across the lawn there is a stillness yet a beat

I find a place, there I lay for now

Resting my head I close my eyes and take a breath

Open again, there the world is

above me an indigo sky looms

One lone star pricks the sky and draws all attention upon itself

Soft, sweet wind blows, the trees rustle in jubilation

Slowly I watch as the sky grows darker, the songs in my ear grow more powerful

I feel like singing aloud

My lungs swell with the want of song, but what a spectacle I would make

So I swallow the song and let the dreams of another day take me away

I grab the grass and fear to ever let go

Because the sky looks so big and wanting

If I let go I may drift away into the clouds and the stars

Then I let go

I let myself free, I drift into the world that I can only dream about

Then I remember that I am still laying on my patch of grass

nestled in the arms of the earth

The grass tickles my nose and tangles in my hair

And I know that there is nowhere that I would rather be

* the song that I am referring to that I am listening to is Kings and Queens by 30 seconds to Mars* 

School

One of my earliest memories of going to school was when I was in the first grade, sure I can remember school memories before that but this one just is burned into my memories for good. And it goes something like this...

I'm floating through a dream that is gradually fizzling away through a cloud as I awake.

My mom is carefully shaking my shoulder and whispering, "Hannah its time to get up sweetie,"

She didn't need to tell me why, because I knew that school was here. 

I don't dread school, I dread getting ready for school in the morning.

But today was different because on the first day of first grade I got up and walked to the bathroom

reached up on the shelf where I had clothes that I could easily reach and picked out a yellow tank top 

and blue shorts, I put on my new tennis shoes and put barretts in my hair to keep my bangs out of my eyes, and got my stuff. This may seem like a normal morning for everyone else but

I was a very particular child, usually I would scream in protest as someone would try to pry me from my bed, my mom would try to comb out my hair as I ran around the house with the brush stuck in my hair. Then THE SOCKS, I hated socks, still do, I would have my mom put them on for me and it would always feel funny, something would be out of place, sometimes mom would have to massage my socks into place to get me to stop complaining. But eventually we would get out the door, put me and Ian on the bus and I would be at school. School was always my favorite time of day, I got to see all of my friends and I learned how everything worked in the world. Still to this day I love school though I HATE getting up in the morning and fixing my hair, finding clothes that don't make me look fat, then finding my shoes and somehow getting breakfast of some sort in my stomach before I kill someone. 

Okay So as you can imagine, I am quite a handful in the morning, but despite all of these things I am actually a  morning person, because you don't actually have to tell me to get up because I know when its time for me to get up. But I am not like other kids who lay out their clothes the night before and can go through their mornings in a snap but I have to put on and take off about 4 different outfits before I decide that I look presentable. That is why I do my hair BEFORE I get dressed unless it is an off morning and I am actually happy with my outfit the first time I put one on. I either straighten my hair into submission or simply let it be, let it be crazy wavy and untameable. then I wake up Ian, I actually have to do this at least twice or else he NEVER wakes up. Then I find some form of breakfast and try to chill for a while before I leave at precisely 8:00 a.m. so that we can stand at the bus stop and wait for the bus driver to roll up and ask us about our summers and make our way up to the school where I stumble my way to my homeroom before I freak out about where my classes are. Then everything is gravy once I know where I gotta be, I love to learn, and I utterly retain every bit of information that I am given. After all photographic memory will do that to ya. And truth be told I love to take notes because if I hear a lecture and I write it down I remember it better, if you just hand me a piece of paper and say read this, then I wont retain diddly. So how do you learn, I have to learn it see it, have examples, explanations and stories. I need to be told and shown :) are you like me?

child star triple threats and californication

Are you talented? I bet you are in one form or another, and who hasn't ever wanted to be famous? Of course everyone has wanted to be famous in one form or another. And something about the world that really pisses me off is the fact that if you ever want to get famous you need the triple threat, singing, dancing, and acting. There is no such thing as specialized talents anymore, like back in the good old days you could just be a singer and get far or just be a dancer and people realize you by name or be in a movie and not have to sing and dance along with it. I've noticed this I have also figured out that some people that want to make it big always promise themselves that they wont take any short cuts and that they wont do anything that is "bunny worthy" but many think, oh well its only for a while, its temporary. But after that they are permanently marked as a "bunny" or "center fold". , its just I wanted to write about this because I was listening to the song "Hollywood is not America" and "Californication" and it made me really think , this is so true, so many girls think that if you want to make it big anywhere in the world that you have to sell yourself to the public, though nobody should ever have to drop that low. In my opinion if you ever want to make it big anywhere you just have to be bold, and out there, your personality must be outstanding and you must be likeable or else your not gonna get anywhere.
Another thing, Disney Channel child stars, okay there has not been one show that I have ever watched on that channel when at least one character per show also sings or dances. I mean REALLY!? I especially hate Miley Cyrus because you know that the only reason she even got the job was because the people who cast the show knew that her dad was Billy Ray Cyrus and they were just like, "Hey two birds one stone, Miley can you make your daddy be your daddy on the show too? oh well thats great thanks darlin'" and I absolutely hate that show because when you watch it Miley's voice just grates on my nerves like you would not believe and also because she acts terrible on the show and my little sister would watch it and imitate her and it made her rude for a while, THANK GOD THAT WE GOT RID OF CABLE!!! But other than Miley Cyrus I don't think that I actually mind anyone else because  everyone else can actually sing. Though its just annoying that you need to know how to sing and dance to be on the shows, though Im not much of a fan of Demi Lavato either I mean her singing is so-so but I have no clue why but I got pissed off when her gap magically disappeared maybe its because I have a gap that wont go away but aside from that it just pissed me off. And the only person that I actually don't mind at all on Disney is Selena Gomez, because she can actually sing really well, dance nicely, and she is good at acting though she usually plays a sarcastic person though she does it well. Who knew? Anyway moving on
In my opinion when you are an actress act like one, project your voice, talk with your hands, eye contact. Dancers don't walk, pirouette, twirl, move your feet, make people want to watch .
Singers, do what you do best, sing, fill an empty space with your notes and make your trip at the mall seem like your best performance at Albert Hall.
And most of all just smile, and be yourself because you cannot do better than being yourself

And I sigh

I can't sleep because all I think about is your smile. I lie awake thinking about how these blankets seem so cold compared to your arms around me. I want to speak by have nothing to say I want to listen but I don't hear the sound. I look around but everything feels empty without you. Where is the warm yellow glow of the afternoon and the smile on your face that would immediately turn into concern the minute that I would sigh. Oh a sigh, one of relief and happiness, taking in sweet air that smells of lavender and grass. I let out the lavender air and all my negative energy flows outward and is absorbed into the world around me. This is my wonderland I am Alice though I do not seek any white rabbit I seek the peace and refuge of memories of a place that I am not sure even exists but I have memories of it. You and me are laying in a field of grass, lavender, daisies and golden sunshine that flows though the trees caressing our faces, you do not know that I have taken you with me to this enchanted place deep into the recesses of my mind. Though there you are, your strong hands gripping the grass between your grasping fingers reminding me of an infant that has just discovered their hands, waving, grasping, clutching, holding. You reach out and pull me closer, taking my hand and place it over your heart. Your heart beating like a drum, I tap out th rhythim and make the lyrics. The lyrics sound like a deep sigh of lavender and grass in a meadow far away. I blink and here I am again looking next to me there you are looking concerned about my sighing and you ask me what's wrong. I simply answer, happiness and yellow meadows

Babies

Who loves babies? I know I do, in fact I loved babies even when I was a baby. My mom used to tell me that we would be in a store and I would be sitting in the cart and I would hear a baby cry and I would yell, "Baby!!!". Then if we ever happened to pass by the mother with her crying baby I would give the mother a look, a look I have mastered that is called "the evil eye" but whenever we would pass them that look would come up and I would think what is wrong with you!? Hold your baby, you don't just let your baby cry!! Even to this day I love babies and whenever I see them crying I just want to hold them and rock them. Just the other day my boyfriend and I were sitting on the couch with his family trying to decide what to get from the On Demand thing on their T.V. and I saw the movie that I wanted and I yelled "BABIES!!!!" my boyfriend looked over at me and said, "sweetie only you want to watch that." Its so unfair when all you have to work with in his house is his little brother who is obsessed with rock and roll and my BF who likes action and anything other than that is unimportant. I wish that for once I could pick something out. But anyways back to the subject, when I was little about 3 or 4 or so, my brothers used to have to convince me that there were babies in every movie that they watched whether it was Batman or Return of the Jedi, so I would let them watch it and I would watch patiently then when I finally realized that there were no babies in any of these movies, I would get up and carry my little baby doll with me. I want kids, in fact I want at least 4, and I want it to either be split down the middle two boys and two girls. Though I know that, that only happens sometimes. Like for my family there is me and Rowan, and Ian and Gabe. Though if I can't have kids I want to adopt them from different countries, preferably an Asian country because in my opinion some of the most beautiful babies are of Asian decent. Like my cousin Tony he got married to a beautiful Filipino lady named Anne and they have three gorgeous children, Christopher, Jason, and little baby Isabella. And they all have beautiful silky black hair and dark eyes. Even when I was little I wanted to be oriental or marry a oriental man, though instead I have my lovely boyfriend Dustin, whom I have been dating for one year. But I'm still determined to adopt babies especially if I have three and they are all boys because I want at least one little girl. :)

Light it up

From my perch I look out, the waves crash violently and the clouds in the sky swirl malevolently. Dark blues and indigos curl and uncurl revealing shocking bolts of lightning.I feel I'll at ease yet completely unaffected by the scary goings ons. It feels natural every flash of lightning makes the sea more angry. The sky is teasing the malicious waters. I feel as if Poseidon is angry at Zeus for flaunting his daunting abilities to light the evening sky like a chandeliered ballroom. I wish I could understand the wonders of the world but most of he time I am perfectly happy with knowing what I do about the world and not wanting to question it. Anyhow I love it when you can visually see the sky and sea battling, it's a beautiful struggle. So who likes rain and thunder like me?

Sirens songs

Okay I just went outside on the deck again and the clouds had cleared some and it let the moon shine directly on the water. And I suddenly realized something, have you ever heard about how sailors have supposedly been lead to their deaths by sirens songs? Okay I just realized that when I was looking at the moon on the water that I swear to dear baby Jesus that I could hear singing and I wasn't even plugged into my Ipod. I stared at the waves come in and I saw the moon shining and I felt like I wanted to go in the water. Though my more rational side of my mind reminded me that going into the ocean at night is like a death wish, but I still wanted to go. Its almost like if you stare at the ocean too long that you want to become part of it. So in my own opinion I believe that "sirens" are actually the ocean and the moon who want to lure those who are eager for the waves and the feel of water running through your hair, your fingers. Everything free and hazy, everything so close and so far away. You know where you are but have absolutely no clue. The feeling was frightening and intriguing, I wanted it but was aware of its wrongness.

In fact when I was little my cousin and me were both always aware of things that were out of the ordinary, we both believed in fairies and witches and mermaids. We always knew that there is something mystical about life. We used to pretend to be witches in her backyard and we would have a big bowl that was our cauldron and we would pick clovers and every single piece of vegetation that was around and make it into some sort of potion. And when we were at the pool or in a lake or anywhere with water we would be mermaids and would swim with our legs "glued" together and we would go into the house and use scarves and pieces of cloth as materials to make our "tails". And every single time that we ever played "make believe" I somehow knew that some sort of mystical truth could be behind it. Like sirens who lure people to their deaths who sing such sweet songs that the victim could not resist and would continue to swim deeper and deeper into the depths of the sea and the song. Eventually finding the song in the sweet swolling ocean, pushing and pulling all at once. Finding what the true meaning of the song means and knowing that its too late to change their fate.

                                              Love of the sea, love of the sea
                                              My dear never wander too near
                                              When the moon is high and the waves brake
                                               The Sirens call to those who awake
                                               They hear the call and they cannot stop
                                               The song is so sweet that the sea comes with a swift chop
                                              Nothing else matters, I really don't care
                                              Then I enter the Sirens lair
                                              The warmth is cold and the cold is warm
                                              Then my last bit of air bubbles out in a swarm
                                               Its too late now, my heart too weak
                                              The sirens have found the weak one they seek
                                              Never heed a Sirens call
                                              Or else too the seas you shall fall

Looking out on the deck I see nothing but hear the waves. There is nothing to see but the moon which appears to be full. As you can imagine I have just today arrived at the beach but I still have he personal necessities that include my ipod which I'm using to write my blog for today. I'm looking over the beach and there's a group of people with flashlights that are supposedly looking for crabs because they come on the beach at night. Just now there was a flash of lightning whether it was just heat lighting or actual storm lightning is hard to tell because if there is thunder you can't hear it over the roar of the waves. Two things that I love, the sea and thunder storms though thunderstorms are never complete without heavy rainfall though you might think that I would be upset over not being able to roam about the beach whilst it was raining though I have never seen he sea when it's raining and the thought thrills me. Yeah you're probably getting bored hearing me talk about my obsession with thunderstorms but this is my blog so who cares as long as I get to let off some steam I should be the happiest person in the world. But something that I can never stand no matter how many times I go to the beach is the sand. I always feel that it's on me and j never can seem to get it off no matter what I do. Who hates sand as much as me? You know who you are though earlier I was so mad I actually went out on the beach and made a giant lump of a sand castle hen stepped on it for good measure and I was absolutely covered in that stupid annoying scratching uncomfortable sand and so now after a thorough cleansing of the sand I am sitting out on the deck in my night shirt in a rocking chair watching the night roll by goodnight everybody

Lovely Curlies

Curls, they are everywhere in my house. I have waves that sometimes like to believe that they are curls so they try to copy my mom and my brothers curls. But no joke ever since I can remember I have always wanted curls, when I was younger I had loose curls and dishwater blond hair but now my hair is a wild wavy mess and my hair is a mixture of many hair dyes. But I have always been jealous of my brothers curls, they are so perfectly formed that if you stretch it straight it boings right back into place no matter what, and he has a lot of curls VOLUME doesn't even begin to cover it. Sometimes I like to obsess over his curls, like on Wednesday I came downstairs to find Ian in my spot so I made him scooch over and I sat with him and stared at his curls then I started playing with them and the words that came out were like this:" Ooh look at all these curlies!! I just want to you know individually wrap them and send them to the queen or something!!"  Yeah I seriously said that in fact it was my facebook status a few days ago. But another thing I obsess over other than my brothers hair, is MY green eyes, I obsess over what other people think my eye color is, because they never give me a straight answer, its always, "Hazel, gray, brown, blue, GREEN!!, and i have even gotten yellow and orange." but everyone knows that if they knock off every other color in it that is surrounding the main color they get green .What is something you obsess over??

Daddy

Everyone has a Dad, whether you know him or not, whether you like him or not, everyone has one. I am one of the luckiest people in the world because my Daddy has always been there for me. My parents are still married and have been for 18 years. My Dad is amazing, I know that most people would say the same thing though my Dad really is amazing. He's a carpenter, he is given wood and he makes it into something amazing. half of the furniture in my house is something that my dad has made especially for my mom. Like our little side table that has a note written in sharpie under it, and the roll top desk and even the shelves that house most of the books in our house.

I believe that I take after my dad, when it comes to intellectual standings, because my Dad devours books. Like literally two days ago I saw him reading a book about Leonardo Da Vinci's theory on the body. My dad never went to college. He actually graduated early so that he could go around the country, and he did. He hitch hiked to every state, except for Hawaii and Alaska.

My Dad likes to give us lectures at least once a day, on things like taking our cups to the sink or if you see a piece of trash pick it up. If I wanted I could probably recite every one of his lectures verbatim. But my daddy is a character, he is skinny as a rail, very tan, and has hair that almost reaches his butt. Once my brother Gabe had friends over and my dad was sitting on the front porch leaned back on the bench out there and one of Gabe's friends said, "Dude why is there a Cherokee Indian on your front porch?" Gabe just laughed and told him that he was our Dad.

                                                Daddy with Ian and Gabe

But my Dad has always been special to me, because when I was little, every night before I would go to bed daddy would tickle me with his whiskers. And when I was just a baby, toddling around I was a Daddy's girl because the moment that I would hear Daddy's car in the drive way I would run for the door and daddy would pick me up and i would get into this so called "bunch" as my mom would call it (its basically when I would lift my shoulders and duck my head down into my daddy's collar and I would look like a little ball or "bunch".

But my dad has actually saved me from my random acts of stupidity before because one day we were out near my dads garage and there is an old civil war cemetery next to it and I asked my dad to read the tombstones to me because I couldn't read them because of how worn out the words are and so my dad did and after we had gone through them all I was just wandering around the grave stones while my dad watched with a close eye by the gate. Then I skipped over to the biggest tombstone and sat on it, then I heard my dad call, "don't sit on that or its gonna fall on you" so I hopped down and the last thing I knew was that the tombstone was on my legs. But what made this worse was that I was only about 6 or 7 and about 40 or 50 pounds , and this tombstone must have been at least 300 lbs. But before I knew it I heard my dad running to me and he lifted that tombstone right off of me and carried me to the house, I couldn't feel my legs though I was regaining the numbness that must have been through shock. My Dad was so scared he wanted to know if I thought that my legs were seriously hurt, I said they weren't they were just numb and one leg had a huge gash down my thigh. But everything was fine, my Dad has been my hero ever since.

                                        This is a picture of  Gabe, Me and Daddy.

Steven Curtis Chapman - Cinderella (Music Video)

 
This song is for my Daddy page that I wrote, because I want this to be played as my father daughter dance when I get married one day. It almost made me cry

Siblings

Who among us doesn't have siblings? I know that if you don't have any then you probably have a best friend who has always treated you like a brother or a sister. Well for me I have three siblings, I am the third child I share the middle child position with my brother Ian, whom has a very striking resemblance of me. The oldest of all of us Is Gabriel, he is four years older than me and was born on Valentines day, lucky him. Gabe is 20 years old and is a self proclaimed artist, he has his own style which to me is a cross between anime and graffiti. But I admire his work, he also stands at a height of 6"4 which basically means that he towers over the rest of our family and even though he wants to be an artist I really want him to be a comedian because no matter what he can always make me laugh.

Next up is Ian, Ian is going to be 18 on October 13th he is two years older than me but unfortunately for him I look older, but the only reason why this is, is because I'm taller. He is about 5"1 and I am 5"3 we get our shortness from our mom who is only 4"9, no that doesn't make her a midget, though if she shrinks an inch she then will need to buy a booster seat to drive the car. Ian has always felt bad about his height because he feels that i make it too hard for him to act like he is the older one when he is tinier. Another thing, Ian and I have been mistaken for twins all our lives, because quite literally the only thing that we don't share in common is our eye color (my eyes are dark green whilst his are an oaky brown) and our hairs volume, Ian has corkscrew curls that hang down just past his shoulders and I have semi-curly waves that also hang just past my shoulders. But everything else we share, we have many freckles in the same place, and we have many facial expressions that mimic each other and also I can tell what hes thinking. Whether I know that I'm doing it or not an idea pops into my head and I say it out loud and Ian claims that he was just thinking it. 

Then last but certainly not least is my baby sister Rowan, She is six years younger than I which makes her 10 years old this year. She was born on September 1st and that was just 2 days before my moms 40th birthday. When I was little I always wanted a younger sibling preferably a girl, when I was in Kindergarten I wanted a baby sister so bad I went around telling everyone that my mom was going to have a baby, when mom got wind of this she told me to stop telling people that because it wasn't true, thats when I turned to wishing stars. Every night my parents would sit outside with a cup of coffee and talk about their days. I often would come out just to look at the stars from our little country houses front yard. I would look up and recite in a small voice "starlight starbright first star I see tonight, wish I may, wish I might have the wish I wish tonight" then I would always ask for a baby sister. after about 2 months of wishing outside I came home one evening and my mom told us that they were gonna have another baby. then nine months later Rowan Ernestine was born. But I remember that day very clearly. Because my grandma was taking care of us while mom and dad were at the hospital. I remember that Granny Pat got bored with just sitting in the house so we all went out for a drive, but it wasn't much of a drive because all she did was find one specific block to drive around and I counted. After we stopped at the same light for the 5th time I complained that I was hungry she then said, "after we get through this light we'll get something to eat then go see your baby sister." when we  got to the hospital we were led to that big window in front of the nursery where all the brand new babies were kept. I looked in and all of them were sleeping and beautiful as can be except this one baby who was red as can be and screeching like a banshee. I was soo excited!! which one was mine!? Which beautiful baby did I get to take home!? thats when my dad did the unthinkable, he went into the nursery to show us our baby, and he took those steps right up into the first row and leaned over the wailing red baby and held her up, that was Rowan. Rowan was born with a full head of dark brown hair, and she had lungs of steel. She would not stop crying, I remember those few months of her tearless cries and was always thinking, "why did the stars give me such a wailer?" But baby Rowan grew up to be a very rambunctious busy body that knows everything that's going on before it happens. She and I show a striking resemblance from when I was little but we couldn't be any more different, Shes the sun im the moon, Shes fire and I'm water, she is everything that she wants to be and she is everything that i ever wanted in a sister. She is only 10 years old and already she has given 12 inches of her hair to locks of love, though after that she vowed never to cut her hair again because of how she said she hated it. Though I'm not gonna pretend like I'm the best sister in the whole world, because God knows that I'm not, I will yell at her when she doesn't deserve it and I can't help that sometimes I wish that she were older and less dependent on those who are older than her. Sometimes I wish that she was mute because of how much she talks, she doesn't ever know when to stop talking, in my opinion when she got old enough to I think she traded wailing with talking all together. But I love her, she is my baby sister no matter how mad I may get at her.


But you always have to remember, your siblings are for life, if you don't love them then what else do you have. I love my brothers and my sister. They drive me crazy but at the end of the day, I'm glad that Ian let me have the last bit of coffee, I'm glad that Gabe scared the crap outta me while I was listening to music, and I'm glad that Rowan kicks me in the face while we are sleeping on the couch because I know that I'm not alone. :) I love you guys. - Hannah

                                       This is Gabe failing at making a heart sign with his hands lol 

                      This is a Picture of me and Rowan being silly

                                 This is Ian who dreads getting his picture taken but we got him this time

Normal?

Okay so I have a question, raise your hand if you are normal. Okay now if you say that you raised your hand you are lying. I have found that in my 16 years of glorious life that there is no such thing as normal. But here's the best thing about it, you define your own normal.

Like my "normal" for me is wanting to put hot sauce and lemon juice in my oodles of noodles, you might think that it is absolutely abnormal but its yummy and its normal for me. Its also normal for me to want to write on my jeans! I have one pair of jeans that I've had since the 8th grade that are covered in drawings and notes and even a few passwords to some game sight. But thats not the point, the point is, is that if you wear heavy eye liner and tripp pants and like heavy alternative rock, that is your normal. God knows that's my brothers normal minus the eyeliner.

And another thing, part of you being your normal self is not letting anyone tell you that you should be anything other than yourself. Its a word from the wise, learn it live it. Just like I have seen some people on here describe their close relationships with God, and for the slightest second I thought that maybe I should show some sort of tribute to my Lord and heavenly father but my deal is that God knows that I believe in him, I was born, raised, and baptized as a Catholic. I don't need to convey my religion on my blog. God knows that I am glad that he has given me my blessings and taught me lessons, though our relationship is private. And I vaguely remember from Catholic school that I spent one year at that there is somewhere in the bible that says "If you pray, pray, but you don't have to brag about how much more religious you are than everyone else. I think it said something about praying with the door closed or something like that I just remember that it was a metaphor for knowing that you and God's relationship is yours. But some things I don't even agree with about my religion, like I do not believe that I have to tell a priest about my sins to get forgiveness from God. I know that God knows that I have done wrong and that he forgives me but I also believe that God is a loving and forgiving God and that he has a place in his heart for everyone and that includes people of the gay, lesbian, and bisexual stand point.

But on another foot, I come from a very open and loving family, I don't think that there is anything that someone can tell me that I won't be open to talk about, or discuss. And this for me is normal, I know that I can talk to my parents about things that trouble me, I know that I don't have to talk to some guy through a screen in a wall to relieve me of sin, and I know that I am free to be me because that's all I have to offer the world.

"You are you, that is truer than true, there is no one else in the world who is youer than you" -Dr.Seuss.
Dr.Seuss is my idol, he saw the world for what it was, he knew all the complicated things all came from a simpler form and thats how problems are solved. Like in this quote above answers the most complicated question of all "Who am I?" everyone has asked themselves this question, don't deny it or you are just lying to yourself. But Dr.Seuss was quite clear, there was no nonsense even though nonsense was his specialty "you are you." Don't pretend to be something your not or else you are just denying yourself happiness.

As for me I know who I am, I am Hannah Madolyn Sullivan. I am smart, I can't deny that I answer every question correctly but I will deny that I am always right. I am a girly girl who just so happens to like to wear guys shirts and occasionally their pants. I'm not afraid to admit that I listen to everything from Marilyn Manson to Brittany Spears on my Ipod. I know that I love to talk photos of myself but that's only because I want the next to look better than the last. I'm not afraid to admit that sometimes I get lonely, and scared. I'm real, I know who I am, I don't want to paint a perfect little picture of who I want you to see, I'm going to use all my shades of my personality, good and bad, I'm not afraid to show my scars because I know that someone else has had it a lot worse. But most of all I'm not afraid to know when I need to be hugged. Hugged? yes hugged arms around me not some pitiful half arm around my shoulders a real hug, with arms and warmth. If you have ever asked for one from me you know that I give them and they are never fake. But if you really know me, you know that I am seriously disappointed by a half second half hug. You want to know me just ask :)

Childhood Innocense

We have all been young once, well unless you are like Benjamin Button and started life as an old geezer. But anyhow, with every childhood there is always something that you feel is true but when you get older you learn its not. Like knowing that Santa Clause will come down the chimney or the Tooth Fairy will leave you a dollar. Well for me those things are still very true, you cannot shake me to not believe in Santa, or the Tooth Fairy. But when I was younger  there was a piece of my childhood innocence that got destroyed...by a commercial. Here's the story behind that.

I must have been about 6 or 7 years old, I remember that me and my best friend Katie were swinging on my swing set in the back yard. It was a golden afternoon, and the sun was streaming through the leaves of the summer green trees. Every time I swung I leaned back and let my hair fall back and graze the grass below, the wind rippled through my light brown hair loosening my waves and letting them stream free. As I swung back up, not even opening my eyes to say so I said to Katie, "Did you know that wind is good for your hair." It wasn't a question it was a statement, I knew for sure that the wind that blew through my hair with such unwavering fingers must be good for my hair. Katie didn't even bat an eyelash when answering, "Of course it is, that's why our hair is so nice." And we believed it. 

      Then a few months later I was walking through the living room and I heard the television jibbering away some commercial about hair care, and it was listing all the things that were bad for your hair in that monotone voice but that's when I heard something that I didn't like, "Heat, Cold, Wind...." the rest didn't matter, I just heard the wind part  and I nearly dropped my glass of water. I got wide eyed and I looked down at my hair that fell just beyond my shoulders and shined a pretty brown. I felt like crying, it was so unfair, I thought that it was good for my hair. It felt good when it would go through my hair and made it messy yet more pretty. So after that I didn't know what to do with my hair, and after that I got my hair cut in an extremely small bob, and I kept it that way for years. Every time it got "too long" off it would go. But about a year ago or so I thought back to that day and it hit me, the commercial was talking about people whose hair had been dyed, straightened, curled, dried out and frizzed up. They weren't talking about little girls beautiful light and untouched new hair. But when I finally realized this it was a little too late, I've dyed my hair with so many colors that I've forgotten my beautiful light brown. And I've nearly straightened my lovely waves into fried submission. That is when I decided I would not dye my hair ever again, and i would only cut it when it got to a certain point and let my natural curls and waves be and let them be free. Sure they don't always look picture perfect, but when I was little do you think I cared?  

So that is my little story about Childhood Innocence, If you ever had a moment such as that let me know  

16 page books, SPF 100, and Cow udders

What exactly inspires someone to blog? I don't know what your reason is but mine is because I love to write. I love to write so much that once when my English teacher asked my class to write a 5 paragraph thriller story I wrote the 5 paragraphs, just in a sixteen page form. He didn't even grade the paper he just sent it right back with a little note written in the corner that read "I asked for 5 paragraphs, NOT A BOOK. re-write in five paragraphs...OR TEN"             After that I refused to re-write it, it had description, a well thought out setting and plot. And I was NOT going to cut any of it out. Besides if I had cut any of it out then how would you understand the thriller? But aside from my abnormally long paper, I've decided to blog because I'm a writer of everything, I write about my life in a diary, but the other day something that my dad said hit me he said, "What is the point of writing in a diary, because someone always gets mad when they read it." But here's what got to me, I LET people read my diary. I like knowing that someone can know my thoughts and read them. I like that someone wants to know what I'm thinking. That's why my diary is in plain sight in my room, not hidden.         
But the only way that I figured that I could get someone to read anything that I wrote other than have my friends give me constructive criticism over my work was to either write an actual book, or put my thoughts where people were, that's where my moms idea came in "why don't you write a blog?" My mom is an artist blogger and she is always constantly writing about what set shes painting or who's children shes gonna paint and just blogging about our family. And so I thought that maybe I should too. So this is going to be my online diary. Read me if you want but if I'm too boring well then go somewhere else. 

Dear Diary,      
On Saturday I went on a boat with my boyfriend and his family, it was a lot of fun but i was extremely concerned about getting sun burn, because I'm so white that I glow, so every thirty minutes I was slapping on my Banana Boat SPF 100 and rubbing it vigorously into my skin though guess what? I got home that night with the fire engine red complexion that I had been dreading.         So what did I do? I went searching for some lotion, aloe vera, anything that would help. Finally I found some aloe vera gel and i was smothering myself in the stuff and I mean SMOTHERING. My little sister Rowan came home from playing at our neighbors house  and looked at me and yelled, "Hannah what is that green stuff all over your face!!?" then I had to explain that I had gotten sunburn and was rubbing aloe vera gel on me to make it feel better. Oh and I forgot to mention, my name is Hannah Madolyn, normally I go without my middle name though my middle name is my favorite part of my name. So anyway, after that later on my mom comes over to me and asks me if  i want milk to put on my  face and well I just thought to myself "weeell it couldn't hurt" so i said sure. then she brings me this bowl full of milk with a wash cloth in it and shes looks at me then says, "do you want me to do it for you?" I turned around and puffed my face out and said, "I can do it myself I'm a big girl!" yes i know how childish, but any way so i put the milk drenched cloth on my face and all the sudden this is what you hear from me and my momma.
Me: Ahhh it smells like cow udders
Momma: keep it on your face it will help
Me: *sniff sniff* poor baby cows
Momma: What?
Me: their mommies smell like this, thats SO EMBARRASSING!!

Thank you for reading my first post whoever you are  (^-^)