Secret

There is a place that I go in my backyard. In the back-left corner, there is a crap-apple tree. It's blossoming right now, with little purple/pink flowers on it. I love it, I always go out there when my parents are fighting. It's in dire need of repair. The wooden planks in the tree need to be replaced, and the entire place is just a mess because of the winter. I'll post some pictures of it soon(:

I'm trying to fast today, but I don't think it's going to work, considering I'm /going to/dragged by my ears to/ a little Mexican place called Los Tres Amigos. It's really good, and I absolutely hate it. Shoot me, please?

Moving on, a shout out to mi papa, for taking 3rd place in his body-building competition(: He got this freaking sweet samurai sword thing as his prize.

I have some photography for you all, but my computer has been acting like a brat and won't upload them. But I'll get them up, I'll try.

Spring and Softball

Well, now that Spring is here I'm restarting my photography. There's a tree outside my American Studies and English class with all these little white blossoms on it. Note to self: remember camera. The tulips are blooming, and the daffodils. I would take some pictures right this very second, but I'm writing this, and I have softball practice in about a hour.

... What? Lauren exercises?

Yes, now shut up. The bad side of this is that it's from 7:00 to 8:30.

Really? That's awful late.

Why, yes it is. But Coach's Daughter Elaina does track, which ends at 5, and he didn't know how many other girls were doing it. Plus, hey, the girls needs a little time to rest.

Did you know you could switch your Facebook language to Pirate? It's so cool.

Thank you to Helen for her lovely comment. It totally made me day(:

Everywhere I go, I am seeing French. I don't know why. So, I will leave you in Spanish.

Adios!

Dear Kyla,

Your my cousin, and I love you. And I'm sorry that I can't follow your blog because I don't want you to find out about me. And it's hard to follow you anyways, because you're rambling(what a good word!) about how hard life is, and how we have to just work through it. And God. I don't believe in any God. Screw God, I have Ana. I miss you.

Love,
Lauren

Work

It's a difficult thing. I'm currently typing my story, Chains, for English, and I think it's giving me carpel tunnel. It's about a girl, Hannah, whose mother, Mary Easty, is an accused witch at the Salem Witch Trials. It's such a difficult piece for me, not because it was a real event, and these are real people, but because of the strong, complex emotions that I get while writing. Here's an excerpt:

"Once the cups were drained, the kitchen was clean, and the Bibles were put away, she kissed me goodnight on the cheek, sending me off to bed with a terrible feeling in my gut for having lied. Would Reverend Paris see my shame? But then, another thought came with thinking about Reverend. Would the afflicted girls accuse someone else? Would they have a fit? Their fits terrified me, that someone would want to hurt them so badly that they would scream and writher with pain. It was heartbreaking to have to sit there and watch. The most prominent accuser, Ann Putnam, was also the youngest. She was an angelic child- big blue eyes, wispy blond hair. It was quite a shame that this was happening to her.
Crawling under my bed sheets, I remember the last fit I saw her have. During the trial of Bridget Bishop, she was seemingly flung from her pew in the courthouse, crying of being pinched and pricked by Bridget’s apparition. The judges pulled up her sleeves. Bright red marks her all over her arms, and she cried out, pointing to the other girls around her and saying they were being treated the same. The judges fluttered, pulling up the other girls sleeves. Ann was speaking the truth.
The head judge, William Stoughton, ordered Rebecca Nurse’s death. I saw it with my own eyes.

But my own eyes were growing heavy, and I succumbed to the darkness that was sleep.

The sound of chirping birds awoke me, the sunlight streaming through the glass like water. I climb out of bed and my nightgown, and into a somber, black dress. It is too beautiful for a day like this. This day, this 19th of July."

Rebecca Nurse is Mary Easty's sister, which makes her Hannah's aunt.

My mom thinks it's great, but she's my mom. It's like she been programmed to say that. Tell me what you think, please.

I have to eat dinner with my family. I really don't want to. It's salmon, with other things and stuff. But I've eaten so much today.

Emily forced me into helping her serve ice cream (as Student Council does every Wednesday), which means that we got free ice cream. I said no, but Other Friend Ciara was also helping, and she puppy-dog eyed me into getting some. Why am I so gullible? Take the calories from that, a school lunch, and cereal this morning, the calorie count must be over 1,000. I'll have to fast tomorrow.

Well Now

So. There is this boy. We shall call him China Boy because he is from China and I don't know how to spell his name. But he is extremely cute and quiet(unless Annoying Kid Who Sits in From Of Him doesn't drive him insane) and he's in my Math class and I'll peek out of the corner of my eye and he'll just by sitting there, nice and quiet, and he'll catch me totally staring at him.

Issue: China Boy doesn't sit near me, and doesn't speak much English.

Lauren needs advice. ASAP, before Annoying Kid Who Sits in Front Of Him drives him insane and away from my school and me.

No Lies

The scale say 107.5. And the scale doesn't lie.

Lauren wants the scale to say 100. Then 95. Then 90. And she will be happy.

I Got Tagged!?

Why, yes, I did. In my HeHe HoHo post, I mentioned it. Thank you to dear Andy. So I must pass this award on to people who I think are truly wonderful.

1) Andy. Because I know she can do this, and she is just awesome. (: For a link to her sweet blog, see above.

2) Helen: Because her photography makes me jealous, and I love her pig.

3) Violet: Her awesome use of French, her profile picture, and her loveliness. I've followed her ever since I've been on Blogger.

4)Della: Even though she's not here, she made me smile, even when I wanted to cry.

5) Insane Jane: Although we don't see this crazy girl much, she was my very first follower on my tiny piece on the World Wide Web.

HeHe HoHo

First of all: ANDY is lovely and fan-freaking-tastic for giving me an award. Thanks dear, it means a lot. I'll try not to disappear more. (:

Now, onto business. All I've eaten is some pineapple and a glass of milk. Roughly about 200 calories. I'm going on the ABC(again) and hoping it works. Yesterday was a qualified disaster. Let's not go there. I want to be be Goal Weight 1(100) by then end of April. And maybe be 95 by my birthday, which is in May. Cross your fingers!!

Welcome Back. Not Home, Just Back

It's not like I wanted to. I just had to. But now, my shit is really fucked up. Emily knows. I guess it's slightly alright, because she had went into this too. But her parents caught it in time.
I've dug up all my pro-ana papers. And have been poring over them with a sick obsession to be so-called "perfect".

It's not the good kind of welcome back. Not home. But back.