knowledge: the comprehension of truth

If I were to share my knowledge of the truth, I am sure that I would end up a martyr.

My knowledge of my knowledge of the truth is this:

-it is a tricky thing to share without frightening or offending people

-I try very hard to do this, but sometimes people just don't have open ears and think that I am not being courteous

-it breaks my heart when people ignore what I have to say, because it changed my life and I wish that other people could accept that change too

-I do not know everything about the truth, though lots of people assume that I think that I do

-try as I might, sometimes my words come out wrong when I explain something

-that does not make me a hypocrite

I could go on, but to be honest, I'm not sure that any of it would make sense.

all the things I love the most

10. My collection of purses. I took the time yesterday to count, and I have somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty purses. This is not to count my messenger bags and totes. It seems somewhat frivilous, but at least I have something to go with each pair of shoes?

9. My shoes. Again, somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty-ish. Well, that's a lie. I haven't counted in a while. I'm probably up to something like thirty. Yes, I'll agree that this IS ridiculous, but how many pairs of two dollar flip flops do I own? Quite a few. Either way, I have a lot of shoes.

8. My cell phone. I'm quite afraid sometimes that my phone has become just another limb; I text so often that I can do so with my eyes closed!

7. My journal. I happen to have two: one for writing class, and one for personal things... where everything I can't write in my writing journal goes! I always have my journal with me and I'm always dumping ideas into it.

6. My journals are not to be confused with my blogs. I suppose that I just like writing... five journals? Somewhat excessive. I write in three blogs regularly. Again, a personal blog, a writing blog, and this time: a hobby blog.

5. I would be unable to write in my hobby blog if I didn't have a hobby, so next we have my dolls. They're japanese and pretty cool. Pretty creepy at the same time (how many kinds of dolls can wink at you?) but still cool.

4. I also would be unable to write in my blogs if I did not have a computer, and I have to say that I sit in front of mine more than is probably healthy. My friends have often remarked on my consistency in responding to emails quickly, and this is what I have to say about that: Of course I respond right away every time... I'm never away!

3. More than I love my computer, though, I love my books. I read all the time and constantly have a pile of half-read books next to my bed. I'm always reading something.

2. My bed. It is the most wonderful place I know of, and the only one that sometimes I feel I never want to leave. In the mornings I often find myself wondering if an english test is really such a bad things to miss...

1. I sat here for quite a while pondering what my number one should be. There are plenty of objects that factor in on a day to day basis, but what affects it the most?

My music. Never will you walk into my room and hear nothing. I always have my stereo on, my mp3 player with me, or, if neither, at least a song stuck in my head. Music is a terribly cliche thing to put as number one, but it is true that what I listen to sets the tone for my attitude everyday.

Those are the ten things I wouldn't want to live without.

just a moment, please. I'm not quite done yet

I'll be honest, I have trouble finishing things.

I wrote about four different versions of the blog we were supposed to write last week. None of them were to my liking so I never posted them, but I never got around to writing a new one either. Only half of my room is cleaned at a time because I get distracted in the middle of the job and end up doing things like driving to 7-11 or watching Star Trek TV marathons. Every time that I decide to begin my day's homework right after coming home from school, it is invariably left sitting on the kitchen table until dinnertime, where it gets thrown on my bed, until bedtime, when I move it to my desk and realize that I really should have started it when I got home from school. Three different knitting projects have been set aside because winter is gone, and there are currently no fewer than four novels sitting on the floor next to my bed because I have been unable to finish reading one before moving to the next.

Even before finishing this entry, I was distracted by an online game (Boomshine on addicting games, check it out!) and got halfway to beating it. During the middle of this game, I realized that I needed to brush my teeth and take my empty cup of juice to the kitchen. So I did that and left the game behind. While walking back from the kitchen, I caught sight of my hair dye through the bathroom door. I never finished cleaning up after retouching my pink streaks.

So here I sit, wondering if this is just a mild character flaw or some deep-rooted anxiety problem that I should be analyzing further. Though, I suppose it doesn't matter; I've finally finished this journal entry!

Now, back to Boomshine. Level 9 here I come!

a long day ahead of me

I have been trying to think of something all weekend to rant about. Despite the constant nattering presence of my extended family and far too little chocolate to tide me over, I have been unable to come up with something that makes me truly angry. So let me share my morning.

Mornings are a very enjoyable time for me. Especially those mornings directly after long weekends, when I am eager to wake up and the tiredness from a busy week has not yet set in.

Today was wonderful, because I walked into school laughing. I was in a brilliant mood that the cloudy sky had not yet managed to kill on my way to school.

Keeping this in mind, it is hard for me to accept how easily my mood shifted.

When people sit on the floor in front of your locker, they should be expected to have somewhat of a polite attitude when you politely ask them to move. They should also be expected to move more than eight inches to the front when they do. They should be expected to move far enough away to be out of the doors path. After doing all of this, they should most certainly be expected to keep their mouth shut when you ram the edge of your door into their shoulder and accidentally drop your lock on them.

People who aren't nice in the morning bother me.

I bother myself more, however, when I let them get to me. While this incident was frustrating, I know that my attitude this morning has been just as frustrating for those around me.

As of this moment, I have decided that the rest of my day will be wonderful.

just to let you know

Dear Leah (2007, age 17),

I have to say, you were pretty hip for a teenager. It's been twenty years since I've seen you, but I'm glad I knew you for a while.

What I remember most is that you always spent your good time making big decisions... Granted, it may have been sheer procrastination (as most teenagers are prone to bouts of), but who am I to say? I'm just happy that you never rushed important things, like post secondary school or relationships. Leaving yourself open to the possibilities was the best thing you ever did!

I won't tell you what has happened since I last spent time with you; it should be a surprise. What I will tell you is that you've got some good stuff ahead of you! I think you'll be pleased with the choices you make. Even if you're not, it's the journey, right? You always used to say that.

It's too bad that I don't have very much more to say, but the fact is that I lied earlier, you were actually kind of lame. Get out of the house more! Stop blogging!

Until never,
Leah (2027, age 37)

P.S. September 13, 2017 -> 5, 11, 20, 30, 37, 43 and 31

just long jeans for me

No scars for me, I'm afraid. What I do have in abundance are bruises.

I have always bruised easily, I get it from my mother. It doesn't matter whether I have run into something, fallen down, or been hit by something, I bruise. Most of the time, I don't even know where my bruises come from! They simply show up and say, "hey Leah! Nice leg... except for me!" and laugh. Very comforting.

One bruise that I have right now, though, is of unmistakable origin. You see, I learned how to snowboard over the weekend. 'Learned' being the operative word, since I actually spent most of the time sitting on my butt, but we'll roll with it.

I was on the bunny hill with my good friend Heidi, who was teaching me at the time. We made our way down (I only fell twice!) and stood at the bottom of the hill, looking up towards our destination.

Now, shortly before this, I had mastered the chair lift. I could do that no problem, but what I wasn't expecting was a rope tow. Never having done this before, I was slightly intimidated by having to grab onto a fast moving rope to be pulled up a hill. Everyone has heard the rope tow horror stories: being dragged across the ground in humiliation being the most common. I didn't want that to happen to me!

When I asked the operator for a tip, she said to grab it very slowly. So I did. Only her definition of slowly was probably different than mine.

I wasn't dragged across the ground, no! That wouldn't be humiliating enough! Instead, and it pains me to admit this in a public forum, I was flipped over the rope head first into a sign. Only then was I dragged across the ground.

So that's the story of how Sir Fredericton came to life. Just now, from his place on my left knee, this purple and blue monster asked me if I could please wear a skirt tomorrow, because he wished to see the light of day before he faded into non-existence.

No, Sir Fredericton. I'm wearing long jeans until you go away.