"Secrets"

"I don't care if the world knows what my Secrets are (Secrets are)"

It is a lovely Sunday afternoon, and I saw my options as the following:

• lie on the couch, cuddled in a blanket, and read On The Road by Jack Kerouac (technically homework)
• lie on the couch, swathed in a blankie, and read Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin
• lie on the couch, curled up in a blanket, and read Making of the West, my textbook, and therefore homework
• lie on the couch, snuggled in a blankie, and read America: A Concise History, my textbook, and again, therefore homework

         OR

• lie on the semi-comfortable couch (which really needs a pillow), bundled up in my soft white blankie, and type away at my laptop, telling the whole world of my deepest desires (and watching Jessie on Netflix.  Yes, I am nineteen, and I watched Nickelodeon when I was at the dentist on my birthday.  This is what I enjoy.)

Well, that's a blatant lie; I'm not gonna tell you everything, sheesh.  I like the idea not hiding anything, but then there are still a few things that only one or two people will ever know about me, and I'm okay with that.  If someone else finds out, which is virtually impossible, I won't get mad.

I am still a child at heart.  I love Disney, and I still watch them regularly.  I tend to jump and giggle a lot when I get excited.  I love The Suite Life of Zack and Cody.  I love blowing bubbles in my chocolate milk.  I love colouring books.  Blankies are one of my favourite things in the world.  Tater tots will make me happiest, fastest.  Candy is one of my best friends.  I love cuddling, and snuggles are the best thing in the world.  Uni is great and all, but I miss my kitty most.  I enjoy a friendly banter, where we yell everything, and feign frustration.  A friend of mine and I always get looks, when we do this, travelling across campus; I've kinda given up on caring too much.

“Childhood is not from birth to a certain age and at a certain age. The child is grown, and puts away childish things. Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies.” 

― Edna St. Vincent Millay

I'm more independent than my roommates seem to be.  I miss home, sure, but I don't really get homesick; I enjoy going home for the weekend, but when I do, I don't get anything done. :[  I love having my mommy's help, and my daddy is good for everything.  But I have to show them how to use the dishwasher, of all things.  They don't understand why I get so stressed out over the kitchen and how dirty it constantly is, or why I hate that they use the dishwasher; we don't have enough dishes to fill that thing and continue to eat, unless it's something you can use a napkin on.  Just...all-in-all, I'm really the only person ready for this, and we're all freshmen...  Yup.

“I have not lived as a woman. I have lived as a man. I've just done what I damn well wanted to, and I've made enough money to support myself, and ain't afraid of being alone.”  

― Katharine Hepburn

My kitty is my babygirl.  Again, my cat is the most difficult thing to be away from, and that's because I spent the most time with her when I was at home.  I am a lover of both kitties and doggies; I have plans for a doggie, all laid out, very detailed, but I'll save those for another day.  I am unashamed to say that I would love to end up being the Crazy Cat Lady, so long as they got along with my doggies.  Cats choose who they will bond with, and will not be forced; I love how headstrong they are, and that's how I see myself.  We play fight, and although she bites really hard, she knows when to let go.  She sits when I say, and only when I say.  And she's been driving my mum crazy with wanting to cuddle.  She's become quite the old lady, but she is still more than happy to fight me; she's eleven, and I worry about her every day.  Simply having a kitty around can heal you and cause for stress relief.  She loves to talk, but that's because I talk to her.  No one is allowed to complain, but dad still does.  OH!  She snores SO loudly!  She's a polydacl calico Manx, and therefor does not have a tail; she has thumbs, and an extra down between it and the other four.  She hates baths, she doesn't terribly enjoy being shaved, but we still have fun together.

“The only escape from the miseries of life are music and cats...”  

― Albert Schweitzer

“A cat has absolute emotional honesty: human beings, for one reason or another, may hide their feelings, but a cat does not.” 

― Ernest Hemingway 

I still cry over the simplest of things.  Today, I was invited over to an old neighbour's for curry; I've never had this, before, and I hear...rather startling and pained reviews on it, so...I honestly began to cry.  I did not want to go.  I cried so bloody hard.  I'm a sorry little example of someone, but I did it, and there's an honest secret.

“We need never be ashamed of our tears.”  

― Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

I actually really love the Notebook.  I watched it the other day, and I bawled.  So hard.  When my roommate (one of three) came home, later, she asked, with disdain as she always does, if I had watched it.  I said yes, because, y'know, I had.  She scoffed, with her classic "Ugh, I hate that!" that always makes me feel like the horrid person that I know I am not.  I tend to panic when people show dislike toward something that I like.  It wasn't that big of a deal, but...seriously.  I lied, and said "So do I."  What the heck, Gray?  Why do I keep doing this?  I don't know.  But it happens.  I hate contention...that's probably why.  Regardless.  I love cheesy romantic flicks, no matter how horrible they may appear to the rest of the world, and how unrealistic, and how 'it's ruining relationships.'  That's actually not the movie's fault; stop blaming other people for your own obsessive problems, guys...

“You can't live your life for other people. You've got to do what's right for you, even if it hurts some people you love.”  

― Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook

I am a feminist.  I have more 'brawn' than most of the girls I know.  I surprise my neighbours with the fact that I had a Heavy Diesel class, senior year.  Yes, I really am terribly shy.  And yes, I was more than ecstatic this last summer when I was up in Yellowstone with Dean and I could ask him to do anything for me, and his eyes just lit up.  That's another thing for later.  But I can't stand having other people, men or women, do something that I am more than capable of doing or learning.  I took apart a huge diesel engine, almost entirely by myself.  The guys in my group wouldn't do any of the paperwork.  And I let them do what they wanted; I got credit, and they didn't.  I will not be a pushover.  Yeah, I can't let people pull crap like that on me.  They pulled what I couldn't, loosened the bolts, and I did the paperwork kinda stuff.  I was the only one who knew where things went when we put it back together.  Plus, it was just me and Rudo, when we put it back together.

“I hate to hear you talk about all women as if they were fine ladies instead of rational creatures. None of us want to be in calm waters all our lives.” 

― Jane Austen, Persuasion

I. Love. Boybands.  From the 90s.  Like LFO and Immature and 3To2.  My favourites?  New Kids on the Block, OZone, Backstreet Boys, and *NSYNC.  I like LFO, as well, just not quite as much. [:  Dean hates them all, but respects the fact of how much I love them, and even suggests listening to them when I'm upset, upon very *seldom* occasion.  "Pop"?  Oh, you had my heart at "Dirty."  And no, I'm not saying that I want a dirty martini.  I'm saying that I love the song, first note through the last.  I don't even know what a dirty martini is.  Is that with an olive, or just the way they make it?  I don't even know what a martini is; I don't drink.  But with music?  You've got me at the 50s, jump to the 90s, then swirl a bit throughout the 2000s.  2006 was not a good year.  For cars, however...[;

“My music taste is stuck in the 90s and early 2000s and I am not sorry about it.” 

 ― Unknown

My boyfriend is two years younger than me, and lives a thousand miles away.  If we get down and accurate, it's 1047 miles from here to him, currently.  I am a freshman in college, and he is a junior in high school.  This is my life, and, honestly, posting that fact on here is another way of accepting that fact.  I survive alright, thus far, and we've been together for a year.  And I'm sure y'all are guessing who it is, and yes, Dean is correct.  And, again, if we get down to the basics, it's two years, a month and, what, four days younger than me.  But he is the sweetest, most amazing guy I have ever met, and I have no intentions of ever hurting or leaving him.  I'm happy with the way our lives are, now, and happier with my own life than I ever have been.  Yes, I have more to complain about than my roommates, but they whine a whole lot more than I do.  And I'll try to keep my little fusses to a minimum; this blog ain't about my first world problems.

“When you find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot, who calls you back when you hang up on him, who will stand in front of you when other’s cast stones, or will stay awake just to watch you sleep, who wants to show you off to the world when you are in sweats, who will hold your hand when your sick, who thinks your pretty without makeup, the one who turns to his friends and say, ‘that’s her’, the one that would bear your rejection because losing you means losing his will to live, who kisses you when you screw up, watches the stars and names one for you and will hold and rock that baby for hours so you can sleep…..you marry him all over again.”  

― Shannon L. Alder

I cant think of any other things.   Therefore, I am terribly forgetful. [:
Regardless, I have done my work here, for the day, and maybe I'll follow up on these little bits later on in life. [;

Auf Wiedersehn!
~Graysen Got What?

Inquiry Upon Men & Strength

_{If a man can never be weak, then how can I ever be strong?}

_{It has come to my attention in the past few days that, with certain people I am close to, they hide themselves behind whatever veneer (or turn off their camera) when it comes to them getting upset, perhaps coming to tears. I've always been this way, myself, but people can always tell when I'm depressed; I have the emotions come off of me in waves that I cannot succor or ride, I'll admit to it. Then I have friends who refuse to be strong, always depending upon someone else to lift them up and to carry them down the beach when they have stumbled; this is fine, just...grow a pair, once in a while. The world will not end when you lose a nail, that's all I'm saying. And I say this with the most love and sensitivity that I can muster, because, right now, I'm the one being carried.}

_{So, why do men always hide their tears? Because they're a symbol of weakness, yes? I declare otherwise. The fact that they refuse to be weak is a sign of weakness itself; they, too, get insecure and sensitive, but they refuse to let other people help them through it. I see this as an opportunity of bonding, but males typically hide that chance away. A very, very good friend of mine recently lost someone close to him, and it was the first time I had ever seen him in such a state. The fact that this was the first time was quite terrifying, I will not lie, because I didn't know what to do to fix anything, and he was to stubborn to even let me try. Which absolutely killed me, inside. Even when he was at his weakest point, he was still trying to be strong. But, you know what? I say to let the tears flow. "Pain is weakness leaving the body"? Then let the tears flow! If you refuse to be weak, then how can others, by comparison, beside you, prove that they, too, can be strong? This doesn't mean start crying over the slightest of things; it just means to let a little bit more show. Bit by bit, letting someone in...that's the most magic. Learning to trust is second to learning to love. Both take a lot of hard work and two-sided effort, and one helps to accomplish the other.}

_{Emotions and words are stronger than one may think, at times. "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words cannot hurt me." Whoever made this statement has nevereven set foot inside of a school, any grade, any region, any race, any culture, any school. Or social setting. Because, as I look around me, I see people's light leaving their eyes as they interact. I love my friends; I really do. And I've lost two in the past semester due to my lack of sense and taking my words out on them. Three years ago, I also lost a friend, whom I recently reconnected with, over conflicting words.}

_{Watch your thoughts; they become words. Watch your words; they become actions.Watch your actions; they become habit.Watch your habits; they become character. Watch your character; it becomes your destiny.― Lao Tzu}

   

_{It's brief, shorter than I would typically think to write, but I think I get my point across.  Words cause pain, pain causes tears.  Tears are a stress-relieving element, and, yes, you need to show that you are indeed human; no one wants to fall for a mechanical robot who can't process human emotions, nor acknowledge when to comfort, when in need.  People need their chance to shine, and if you don't let them, you, yourself, become weak.}

_{Your quote is the one by Lao Tzu.}

_Enjoy.

_Scotty

_~♥

Beautiful People

Some people just cannot keep their opinions to themselves; I learn this every time I watch certain shows, particularly live airings of celebrities and whatnot with certain family members. I'm a very opinionated person, but I like to keep these thoughts to myself, thank you very much. But, of course, since I've started to write on here, this is basically my storage for thoughts. hehe

During the NY ball drop, with all of the performances that went down in the two hours worth that I watched, I heard several things of commentary from both sides of the screen; those attending and the one person sitting next to me. "Oo! Imagine being in New York, dressed like /that/! The sacrifices these girls go through just to appear pretty and appealing." I grew up in a home where opinions are loud and things are very black and white. But as I grew older, I found gray. Mum always taught me to keep my chest and back covered, and to always wear shorts that covered my thighs, et cetera. These have become what I'm comfortable wearing. I wear tanktops and shorts around the house, yadda yadda, and nothing shorter than a tee in public. "Always cover your chest, Gray." Yes, ma'am. And yet, I see you showing cleavage...? This becomes irritating, to me. Don't teach me something and become a hypocrite...

And, yes, it is one thing to have my own style and to teach my ethics. But it is another to openly bash on another person; I do not like this. I already have my own perspective and I was taught how to think, yes; once this has happened, don't shove the ethics down your children's throats. I'm not about to suddenly change my style of clothes, so comfortable and /me,/ for scandalous dresses and sloping necklines; I'd feel more nervous than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Hehe, I haven't heard that expression in a while...

The people I am forced to be around all the time are very judgemental and somewhat racist. I like to think of myself as open-minded. In comparison to them, I am; very much so. But to some people, I'm closed off; they haven't met my family. I hang out with a group of popular outcasts at school, and I guarantee that my family would find something to dislike about every one of them; but I love them for who they are. One in particular, has a rather horrid past, but I love them most. This isn't weird; it's weird for me to like blah people...

Of course, I've been rather protected all my life; again, this adds to my personal style. But even still, I'm a bit more comfortable than other people; I don't wear a sloping neckline to 'dress up.' I simply layer up, if I so choose to do so. Otherwise, I have a tee or two that look fine with a skirt. I don't typically wear a skirt; I'd sooner choose to wear tennis shoes than I would to wear heels. Sundays, I wear a skirt, a nicer shirt, heels, yes. But that is practically the only day that people can get me to dress up. Almost as soon as I get home from church, I change back into sweats or something to that extent.

Onto another note, New Years! I just learned a new word, but...I forgot it. Eh, I'm blonde; I'll press the blame onto that inheritance of hair colour. :D No, I did not get a New Year's kiss, but I'm fine without; I got that a little early, hehe. I did, however, have my wisdom teeth taken out. I guess you could call me one of those few cases where you're conscious of what you're saying and still remember things about it, after you've woken up out of the foggy spot where you just ramble. I was kinda quiet, but I did quote the other videos I've seen ["No, I didn't dream about unicorns...sad day..."], spelled out 'gauze' whilst quoting another AFV/YouTube video ["But mum! I have gauze in my mouth! Not God! Gauze! G-A-U-Z-E!"], mentioned how I saw double ["You're double... Whoa, she's triple, but that's because she's moving...! That's double, double, double..." There was a phone on the wall and every time I tried to focus on it, it just moved and it was driving me insane...], asked to take the chair home with us, and brought up the mask they'd used to knock me out three times. It was white and had these bars that stretched out around my face, and this spherical shape that went over my nose... Mum said it was like a clown's nose, but I kept trying to quote her by saying "Now you're Rudolph!" I don't know my problem... I had a perfect thought process and recollection... That's the only thing I can't get right, even now.

All right, so, onto the item of business that i dearly wanted to address and motivated me into writing out this whole ordeal. Bringing up my wizzies was a bit random, yes, but so is my thought process. At times...

People are people. My dear friend has been having issues with her friends. I hate this; if there is one thing that I could stop, it would be how judgemental people could be. It is not our place to judge. We can like people, et cetera, we can dislike them and choose to not really be around them, yes. But we do not have the authority to take over their lives with gossip and hate and just...being mean! "They think it's a secret that they all hate me." Really? Have people not heard about what goes on in schools and crap because of stuff like this? I honestly do not care what you think of me; it is none of my business [that's a quote from somewhere, or relatively close to one....].

I hate making other people feel bad; I try my hardest to shut my mouth when I get mad, because I know how shoddy I'd feel if someone blew up on me. That is something I've been working on since my birthday, and...I think I've done progressively well. I did really well the other night, so that's a plus. But, really? It doesn't even take active bullying to kill someone; if they don't have any friends, that can be enough. "Oh, they're an outcast; I can't help them. It will lower me to their level." Well, you know what? When a kid drops his books and NO ONE goes to help pick them up, what do you think then? You're no better than the rest, as he scrambles to pick them up. As a girl trips in the hallway, and her things go flying, no one helps her; oh, someone will, eventually. But it won't be you, and you'll never find out if someone actually does; you just keep walking. My resolution? I've done this regularly, and it's something I take pride in, but I want to exploit this more fully, this year. I'm going to stop every single time I see someone in need. Or as often as I can. But you know what? As much of an attendance nazi as I can be, nothing beats seeing someone smile. Because they might be in more of a rush than I am, and they'd end up later than I would, if I stopped to help them; they'd be off sooner, I'd be off later, and I've usually got a minute or two before class even starts and I'm in the room, anyhow.

So, really? Just make a new friend, no matter who you think they are, or how weird they are, or how different you think you might be. I've been friends with a kid for a semester, now, and it never really occurred to me how similar we were until a mutual friend pointed it out; we're almost exactly alike, yet our histories are so different. Another friend, I've known just as long, but before October, I couldn't see past how annoying he was; I learned two days before my birthday just how cool and interesting he was. And you know what? I ended up going on two dates with him, later that month, and even kissed him a coupla times. Yah; that's very different, and almost a fully 180. I had several people actually get mad at me for changing my opinion within twenty-four hours. Within two days, I went from disliking that kid to practically falling for him...

Things happen when you least expect them, and when you close you're mind, you're going to miss out on a lot of stuff.

So, no matter your ethnicity, your complexion, your history, your future, your spouse/significant other, your family, your name, your GPA, your driving average, your mental capacity, you are a very, very beautiful person, and you will find your purpose, no matter what you think, or what others say.

~Graysen

Your quote for today [went and found it! :D] :

"What others think of you is none of your business."

-Unknown?

Inspired By Nothing

In the spirit of one of the few people I somewhat idolize (Eli McCann), I have decided to post a few pictures, mainly of my dear sweet kitten (who is hardly much of a kitten, anymore), Mittens (aka, Mitzi), and the fun times we have.

Orange head ♥ (yes, this is really my kitty)

Here she is with an orange peel on her head. She wasn't too happy, but, you see, this is what happens when you sniff the orange: the peel come off and climbs onto your head.

She now flees from the room whenever she smells citrus...  But I still love her, even if she shies away whenever I eat my favouritest fruit.

http://www.allaboutwildlife.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/06/Giraffes.jpg

Here she is with her dear friend, Charles von Schvitz, attempting to blend together and form an incoherent bond of spots--they live in an anti-stripe committee.  Charles recently convinced Mitzi to stretch out her neck to such a reach that you think they are giraffes, but in all actuality, they're cats!  Animals have begun to use this technique globe-wide.  It's quite a fascinating process to observe...from nine miles and forty-two-point-six seconds away, of course.

http://i4.dailyrecord.co.uk/incoming/article909478.ece/ALTERNATES/s615/catfood-tin-cat-image-2-11862196.jpg

Finally, here is my previous pussy cat with her untimely imitation of 'Tin Cat,' her own rendition of the Tin Man from the Wizard of Odds.  She missed the plane, lost her tail (she is a Manx) and stepped on a cucumber all within four seconds of silence, the poor dear.  All the sounds thereafter, reverberating off of those tin walls enclosed about her head?  Needless to say, she needed help getting out of costume, and swore never again to attempt at such a dramatic, folly role--she'd leave the actin to the trained professionals.  I later found her crouched  beneath my bed in an all-around similar position to the above attachment.  Curious...

All in all, I am but merely a bored teenager who should be out helping her mum with some other things, so I shall depart with few words:

"It is better to look up!"

from Carl B. Cook of the Seventy's talk, located here.

~Graysen Got What?

Preparing For Christmas

In my house, we don't typically put up the tree until the first of December.  I can't honestly remember what time we did it this year, but I'm pretty sure it was until last week.  Personally, I don't find decorating all too fun until about a week before.  Mum always pulls out her little villages that I use to find so fun and makes me set them up; we didn't do that, this year, and I realized how much I actually like doing that.  Which is strange.  I just wish we had a better place to set them up, so that I don't have to stand on chairs and couches and find perfect balance.

I have successfully procrastinated long enough that I only just started my Christmas shopping yesterday, and I remembered so many things that I didn't buy.  Ohhhh dear, Gray.  Silly, silly Gray, yes?  No.  Stupid Gray.  Nono.  I won't be doing this again next year.  Hopefully.  Of course, I do have school and a cold to blame for not doing it last week, or during this passed week, as I had originally planned.  At which point I realized that I was screwed.  This, however, only discouraged me to a minimum.  In this past week, I brought up my F in Calculus (which I believe was unjustified with how much effort I was putting into that class), changed out of the dreaded math course for upcoming semester (and into government), wrote a rather daunting inaugural address for Obama (if I must say so myself, the writing a whopping 1.014, 14 words above the required amount;] ), made sixteen CDs for my friends as their gifts this year (they're so pretty and professional looking! :D ), and successfully forgotten several things to say.  Such is the life of a week being Gray when her eyes are über dilated at 23h30 for no particular reason.  Eh, what are you gonna do?

Christmas is in...what, four days?  Oh, dang.  I wanted to say four, maybe three, but NOPE.  Then I was gonna say two, when I checked my calendar.  Online, I found a countdown: 1 day, 22 hours, 48 minutes.  What?  Since when!  I have been deceived...  I don't think they're in my timezone.

1 sleep, 23 hours, 45 minutes & 34 seconds sounds much more accurate. :D  Even better would be 4 sleeps...

In other words, I only have 23 hours, 44 minutes and 47-46-45-44 (enough of that) seconds left to...I forgot.  I should go to bed.  Yes.  Good idea.

Goodnight world; I'll see you tomorrow, non-blurry and full of light...  Yay!  Contacts can do that to you.

~Graysen Got What?!

Your inspiring quote for today:

"'Maybe Christmas,' the Grinch thought, 'doesn't come from a store.'"

Because it is so true, right now. ;]