All The Small Things.

I woke up today, three times, finally rising around eight-thirty in the morning. I might also add that I found myself to be particularly skinny at the certain hour, so I was quite pleased with myself. As I went through my morning routine, however, I realized that this state of thin-ness probably wouldn't last past lunchtime or possibly a bit later. Oh well. I was happy about it at the time, at least.

My day ahead of me had no clear outlook really. I walked downstairs with no purpose. Usually I just fall onto one of the three couches downstairs in front of the Fox News channel, but I noticed something different. As I heard about the whole North Korea thing with the missiles near Hawaii [I know I sound uninformed, but there really isn't a name for it, is there?], something at the kitchen table caught my eye. There sat the Dallas Morning News, sitting in a neat stack in the sunlight. I've always taken a quick look at the sports or metro section during the morning to preoccupy myself during my breakfastless half-an-hour waits - but the fact that the paper just looked untouched compelled me to read it. So I sat there, like the disciplined kid that I was raised to be, and unfolded the front page. To my surprise, I actually read almost every article. For some reason, everything seemed interesting. I must have looked at almost every word from the front page to the classifieds and everything in between in this morning's edition. Strange. I couldn't even put down the NeighborsGO as I retrieved my multigrain bagel from the toaster. As I finished, I continued to watch America's Newsroom to learn more about the USS John McCain moving in on these North Koreans, and how Acorn has apparently barred Fox from their bash? Hm. A lot of good things to listen to. It's nice to be informed.

My day, other than that, has consisted of a lot of laying around, staring outside, walking the dog, playing the guitar, drawing, texting my mother and boyfriend, who are both out working and playing. My sisters both have been gone. One at camp, the other at a friend's. I'm left to silently chill and sip my Splenda iced-tea. I mean, there is a lot going on in my life right now. A LOT. But you could never tell by the way I walk, or the look in my eyes. As of right now, I am the holder of three jobs, about to start summer cross country, and the almost owner of a little black pontiac that I'm sure will cause me to grow up faster than you can say 'Animal Collective' [amazing].

I suppose I'll go play my Guitar Hero now. I really should go run, like I did yesterday, but Santeria is calling my name. Fun song to play. Once my mother gets home we'll make the family trip to Market Street like we do every Friday. Food = Life. And I love it that way. And I'll end up showering, talking on the phone for a good three to four hours, after hours. And I'll then hang up, proceed to the bathroom, and before I lay down, discover that my once slender figure of the morning has been, once again, plagued by life's awful chub-up that can only be cured overnight. I'll end up waking up the next morning to be hopeful again, skinny and dissheveled. Only to find out that I'll, whether or not I eat bad, become bloated by everything in the world by midnight.

Oh the laughably simple joys of being a teenager.

Apply Directly To The Forehead!

Appropriately titled, because current events have been bearing down with some annoying force. Kind of like the man in the 'HeadOn' commercials. Just won't shut up. I mean. I get it. Apply directly to the forehead. I got it the first million times.
And the Shamwow! guy too. Don't even get me started. I'll stab you sir. Oh goodness..haha.
Summer. Just wow. Summer is finally here. I feel like this isn't real. I feel like I should be worrying about homework. Thinking about practice. Planning outfits for the next day. I guess I'm just so used to the unnecessary stress of school. But it's so great just to fall asleep late and wake up so nicely the next day. Feel the warmth of the morning sun heat your groggy skin. I get goosebumps just thinking about it. Thinking about how many days I'll spend in my own thoughts. Doing things I actually enjoy. With people I love. This is going to be a revolutionary break. For me, it's a summer of trying. The summer of hoping, dreaming, believing, realizing, and revisiting. It's a summer of growing up. Lots and lots of growing up to do. Such a young sixteen on the horizon.
Sixteen...it sounds so crazy. I'm very ready for it. But, I'm also very apprehensive. Why? Beats me. I guess I'm just foolish. Things are just changing so fast. I feel like I'm taking life in leaps and bounds, rather than the steps our parents taught us to take from the beginning. It seems way too fast. I remember just yesterday sitting on the hot driveway of a friend's, sucking on popsicles and staying out all day. Rainy day crafts. Making chair forts in the front dining room. Having some of our innocent firsts. Discovering my love for music. Discovering love.
It all comes back to me so vividly. It's all so far away. Short video reels and faded Polaroid pictures flicker through my wandering mind at night, along with all the other thoughts I follow to the gates of sleep. At night, I take a walk with friends and family, here and afar, down my own boulevard of dreams. Not broken though. Just a little aged. Maybe a little worn down too. A little too much remembering I guess. I find myself chasing after them from time to time; wildly running after these few things I have left of my younger self. It's tiring.
These last couple of days have been trying. Summer doesn't treat everyone the same, you know. But I guess it's kind of this writer's fault. What can I say, I'm a difficult person. Sarcasm. Regular. Totally crazy and erratic. But understanding, respectful, loyal and true. My name is Alex, have we met? Of course we have...back to post one, I guess.
I've finished for the night. I'm going to unmake my bed. Throw the sheets down and tuck myself in between these two thin plaid blankets. Say my prayers and lay to my left, steadily breathing to the hum of my fan and the deep snore of my dog. I'll lull myself to sleep, and dream about things I just can't get my mind off of.

Funny how the night moves, as Bob Seger says.

Yes, Mr. Seger. Funny indeed.