Sunday, December 18, 2011

Terribly Human

I find that few things are better than simple human contact. As living things, we crave some sort of physical assurance that we're not alone. I need it, I mean any sort of genuine association with another being; it's holding hands, it's hugging, it's kissing, it's sitting close together, it's crying on someone, it's hearing another person's [boom-boom, boom-boom] heartbeat or feeling the monophonic rise...and...fall of their breathing, it's lying next to someone you fancy, or grazing arms with a stranger, it's the delicate sensation of their fingertips sailing through your hair, it's kicking someone under the table, it's punching, it's brushing a stray eyelash from their cheek, or dancing - - maybe slow-dancing. Whatever.

That tangible touch says,
'I'm here, and you're here too
We're human and we're not alone
I won't leave you because we're connected, because we are both human
and you are not alone'

If you can't go back, where the hell do you go?

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Carrying the Fire

...My recent thoughts on life; there is no closure. We grow up, we move on, and most importantly - we learn something. Also, I'm a professional people-watcher. I know it's creepy. I don't care.

"Humans are the only animal that blushes, laughs, has religion, wages war, and kisses with lips. So in a way, the more you kiss with lips, the more human you are. And the more you wage war."

It's hard being alive. I've got growing-up things to do.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

To you, and you, and you.

The holidays have me thinking about the things I'm thankful for. Mostly, I find myself being most thankful for the people, just the best people. Somehow it seems I got all the good ones. There are some lousy ones thrown in there too, but the good ones more than make-up for their nonsense.

Out of the 7 billion people on this planet, I'm certain the best ones are mine.
The best people are all mine.

the best to hug, and hold tight
the best at giving good advice
the very best to laugh with
the best to call when you're crying
the best to tackle and wrestle to the ground when you're angry
the best for keeping secrets
the best to borrow clothes from
the best to wink at
the best at listening - even when it's my same stories again, and again
the best to learn lessons from
the best at letting me learn my own lessons when I do something really stupid
the best at worrying about me
the best at giving forehead kisses, when they are most needed
the best to just sit with
the best.

Yeah, you can wreck yourself
You can call me names
You can swear and say
I'm the one to blame.
You can raise your voice
You can roll your eyes

Honey, I'll still love you Anytime.

Thursday, November 17, 2011


Today I learned about the word peculiar. The literal definitions are:
  1. Strange or odd, unusual
  2. Distinct from all others

I like the second definition, very much. Saying it {when it means definition 2} leaves a sweet sound in my ears and mouth. And I like the way it looks written, just, the way it sits in a sentence.

"You're a peculiar girl, Ellie."

"Thank you. I'm aware."

"Tears were shed, swear words were said, but in the end we got where we needed to be." - Hay Walks {upon us winning math-bingo and receiving a 2 starburst prize}

Sunday, November 6, 2011


I have a way of making an awful mess of things. By things, I mean myself; my room, my books, my drawings, my relationships, my emotions, my hair, my nails {oh dear, I have ghastly nails}, my math homework, etc. I'm messy when I don't know what I want. I'm messiest when I'm chasing something I think I want, but I don't really want. I look all over hell for it - and anything in the way is ravaged and ignored. To prevent these Dionysian rampages from occurring too often I make lists. I make lists of things to do, things to remember, but mostly things to chase, and bottle up.

Recent lists bear resemblance to this, {scads of these things are in my head, and some of them are sitting in ink, on barbed slips of paper}:

mini-mallows for hot chocolate
more sweaters, it's cold
holding hands for awhile
to forget a lot
...and forgive?
ok. forgive.
books books books
laughter {the real and ugly kind}
my cousins back, wrapped up in my arms, all of them
more painting
less crying
really less crying
new people
the best kind of kisses
the best kind of people, with stories

So that partly sums up, part of what I want, part-time.

People thanking God for saving them.

"...we choose possibility. Possibility is almost always better than reality." - Mrs. VanOrden

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Grandpa Chuck

I'm sad to say I'm on my way Won't be back for many a day My heart is down, my head is turning around I had to leave a little girl in Kingston town

-- Harry Belafonte

My grandpa loved Harry Belafonte, and his wife, and his kids, and his grand-kids, and his country.

And I loved him very much.
I'll miss him, but I'll see him again.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

End of a Spark

Sometimes you still think about something that once made you smile, or made you laugh, or gave you butterflies - right? And it's over, and it's done, but you still get that warm sensation as before, just with an added under-tone of nostalgia. You think about the memory / then the feeling from the memory / then you sort of feel the feeling.

It's not the same as dwelling on the past. It's just remembering. And just remembering is okay.

The last few months have taught me something about remembering, though. Those things that we pluck from our jumbled mind-jars of memorandum, to brighten our less-than-alright days, only do any brightening if the thing in the remembering was real. I don't mean "real" as in "really happened". I mean "real" - as in lasting and lie-free.

Rememberings riddled with falseness and fable don't do me any good, anymore.

Saturday, October 1, 2011

Cosmic Truth

'There will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears. And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears. Get over your hill and see what you find there,

With grace in your {bones} and {one less storm to fare}.

It's okay to not be okay. I'm just going to sit here, perched on the idea that, eventually, everything will be okay. And it will, I think, eventually.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

We are the dreamers of dreams.

Something ought to be said for the daydreamer.

There's a touch of the truly fantastic in a daydream. It could be argued that daydreaming, in itself, does nothing. But that can't be right. Daydreaming, in itself, constitutes creation. The mind's ability to create fantastic {intangible} things, is evidence of our divine origins. Daydreams are the makings of making anything.

Maybe you were just a daydream. . . I'm certain the universe was once just a

I fell asleep beneath the flowers
For a couple of hours
On a beautiful day
I dream of you amid the flowers
For a couple of hours
Such a beautiful day

Thursday, September 1, 2011


"I don't think that we're bad, I don't think we're bad at all."
Sometimes I want things that are bad for me. Sometimes I am completely aware of that fact. Sometimes I know something is bad, or stupid, or going to cause some major Barney Rubble...[trouble].
But, occasionally, I do that thing anyway. Not because I'm bad, just because I feel like I need to try it. I just need to dip my toes in the water. I just need to peek through the crack in the door. There is a perfect example of this concept from an episode of How I Met Your Mother:

In one scene, the gang is sitting at the bar waiting for their food to come, listening to Ted ramble. The waiter eventually comes and puts the plate on the table while simultaneously warning them; "Careful, that's a hot plate." Lily immediately proceeds to touch the plate in curiosity, despite the warning. After touching it she quickly draws back and yelps; "Damn that's a hot plate!" So, although Lily was aware of the consequences, she had to touch the hot plate, just to see if it really was hot - or just to see how hot it is.

Most of the time I avoid things that are bad for me - as one should, but I think a healthy dose of mischief is important every once in awhile.

Being bad is bad and being good is good. I know, I know. It's okay though, to sometimes let yourself slip up. You might even do it on purpose and that's okay too. You can't be one thing all the time, that's just not how people are supposed to be, that's all wrong I think.

"There's blood in my mouth, cuz I've been biting my tongue all week."

When I'm all grown up and I don't have all these irrational adolescent vibes coursing through me I'll probably think it's a stupid, silly idea, this one. But until that day I'm going to do what feels right, and see what I can take, and use up this god-given teenage mess I have. I'm gonna remember things and smile. "I've been making some cold calculations regarding our body heat, it's not easy, believe me."

Monday, August 29, 2011

The reasons all have run away, but the feeling never did.

I've been converted. I'm just a former firework fanatic, whose eyes have been opened.

This weekend was very, very good for me. It wasn't perfect, but there was a perfect moment, and life doesn't give us a lot of those - so when it does you have to hold it and think about it all the time so you never forget it. So that when things get really really messy and broken you can remember that moment and know that sometimes things are perfect.

My weekend was riddled with generic teenage ventures; A football game, a scary movie, Slurpees, a party, a park, a late-night Del Taco run, a date, etc...
BUT amidst those things, there was placed, a perfect moment: After my friends dropped me off from Del Taco sometime around midnight [good song] I walked up the stairs to my front door and found my sister sitting on the porch, all alone, watching the storm.

No words needed to be exchanged. I smiled at her, and she stared at me [Julia isn't one for emotion, smiling isn't a necessary function for her - like it is for me - without being able to grin/giggle every 3 to 7 seconds, my head would explode.] I mumbled: "Ok... give me a second" under my breath and ran into the house to throw on my favorite gray sweater, it's my favorite because it has those sleeves that are just long enough so that they cover most of your hands and just barely leave your fingertips peeking out of the top so that the rest of you is swaddled in a soft, gray, haze of sweater and sleeve.
I ran back to the porch and let the screen door bounce closed behind me. I sat down on the oddly comforting concrete, next to my sister, and we watched the lighting shock the sky over and over, while we listened to the song "Lua" by Bright Eyes.

It was perfect. Lightning is one of my new favorite things. It's sublime. Not like fireworks. Fireworks are loud and they want to be seen and noticed. They command attention and occupy the sky for awhile. Lightning is different. Lightning is something special. You have to wait for it \ and catch it \ and savour it \ like moments. Just like those perfect moments.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011


Summer has come and gone. The lazy days in the sun rays are done. But they've left their golden impression on my skin, and when I look down at my arms and legs I smile because summer was good to me. I only got sunburned once, one night I got eleven mosquito bites on my left leg, and I said "no" too much - but mostly summer was really just the best. It kind of shook things up though, and I'm just kind of floating around now. I feel like a dandelion seed, that was previously content sitting atop that dandelion until some rude gust of wind came along.

So right now that's me. I'm just floating. Hittin' the books. Floating. Getting nervous for swim season. Floating. Dealing with my stupid teenage hormones.

And floating.

Monday, August 22, 2011

I want this,

THIRTEEN by Ben Kweller

We've been in the rain
We've been on the mountain
We've been 'round the fire

In fancy hotels
Drank water from farm wells
We sang with the choir

I kissed your dry lips
We jumped off the high cliffs
And splashed down below

Skin to skin
In the salty river
Made love in the shadow
Woooah ooh

Read books to each other
Read the mind of the other
Flew a thousand jets

We laughed and we cried
At movies and real life
and our ridiculous bets

We danced in the
moonlight at midnight
We pressed against back
doors and wooden floors
And you never faked it

And frequently
We ignored our love
But we could never mistake it
Oooh ooh

We met on the front porch
Fell in love on the phone
Without the physical wreck

You gave me the necklace
That used to hang
Around your mother's neck

We questioned religions
Fed bread to the pigeons
We learned how to pray

We stood by the ocean
Turned our hearts into one
We laid in bed all day

We skipped on the sidewalk
Skipped stones on the water
We skipped town

We've seen the
sunrise with new eyes
We've seen the damage of
gossip and true lies
We've seen the sun go down

Had passionate makeouts
And passionate freakouts
We built this world of our own

It was in the back of a taxi
When you told me you loved me
And that I wasn't alone

Sunday, May 1, 2011

People people people.

Great words, spoken by a true artist. It's such a simple and elementary statement but it's so profound. It provokes a good thought too. Because, yeah, why not? Why can't "everybody like everybody"?

I think it's because people are people (*Simple as well, but not profound - let me explain):
People are incredibly complex things. Some people like some things, or everything, or nothing at all (I'm really not trying to sound this ambiguous...). The thing is, everyone is different and no one agrees on everything, and so people argue and fight and hate. [That's why it's such a miracle people ever fall in love. You have to find someone that loves (yeah LOVES, not even just LIKES) every little weird thing about you, the way you laugh, every problem, fear, and freckle.] I think Warhol said this ridiculously simple thing to make people think about how ridiculously paradoxical and impossible it is. Yes, the idea of a world where everybody likes everybody seems ideal to some, but if everybody liked everybody - we would all be the same person. What fun is that? I need to argue, and fight, and get mad at people sometimes - because honestly, sometimes people suck. I admire Warhol for these words and at first glance, the 'hippie free-love' Ellie (oh yeah, that exists) thinks; "Yeah man, yeah, that's how it should be!" But think about it, even hippies gotta hate someone: the man.
And so we see, that even the most accepting "like everybody" people out there have someone to not like.

I think it's good that not everybody likes everybody likes everybody. It makes life interesting; it makes art, and ideas, and things to stand up for.

The most important thing, is that amid the things we don't like, we find something to love.
paradoxical and impossible it is. Yes, the idea of a world where everybody likes everybody seems ideal to some, but if everybody liked everybody - we would all be the same person. What fun is that? I neeo argue, and fight, and get mad at people sometimes - because honestly, sometimes people suck. I admire Warhol for these ing to love.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

An Ode to Sisters

This is my sister Julia.
She's fantastic.

We used to fight a lot, now we only fight occasionally - and they're not even
really big fight-fights they're more like 'spats' because they can be diffused in the moment. Anyway back to Julia:
Julia is the most loyal girl you could ask for. She sticks to her guns no matter what and speaks her mind (whether you ask for it or not). ;) But I can say from experience that when I've ignored her advice in the past, it always comes back to bite me in the butt. I know this goes without saying but she's gorgeous. The smile, the eyes, the cute button nose. When she turns 16 I'm gonna have to beat the boys off with a louisville slugger. One last thing about Julia, she's not "super-deep" very often, but she always listens to me, and I really love her for that. Thanks Jules.

This is my sister Anna.
She's one-of-a-kind.

I'm so grateful to have her in my life, I think one year we literally had a sleepover EVERY SINGLE Friday, without exception. She knows all my secrets, all my weaknesses, all my fears, and anything else there is to know about Ellie. One of my favorite things about Anna is just plain and simple, it's just that I have so much fun when I'm with her. So much friggin' fun! Being with Anna means effortless laughter, memories I wouldn't trade for the world, and smiling till my face hurts. Another thing about Anna that I love so much is her sincerity, she means everything she says. I can always count on her to be honest and earnest in everything she does. This spring break I know that we will honestly have so much fun -

our heads might actually explode. Anna is like a favorite song. I never get tired of her, there are oodles (yes, I said oodles) of memories attached, and she's positively irreplaceable.

This is my sister Charlene.

She is indescribable.

But I'll do my best: beautiful, witty, genuine, bright, humble, brilliant, artistic, inspired, clever, loyal, and incredible. I don't know what I did to deserve this girl as a friend. Sometimes I actually measure my actions with a "Charlene Ruler". If the thing I'm about to seems to me like something Charlene wouldn't like me doing - I either don't do that thing, or do it anyway and regret it later. I am so glad this girl is in my life. I don't know what I'd do without her.

This is my sister Hannah.
She is everything.

Hannah, Hannah, Hannah. I really love this girl. We've had ups and downs (most if not all were my fault). I feel like the crappy boyfriend and she's the girl that gives me more chances anyway. Haha. But anyway, she looks rather somber in this picture, but she is usually an optimist. I like this picture because this is from the summer she came with me to Santa Barbara to do surf camp. It was the best. Hannah is amazing, I feel so comfortable around her and she has helped me slowly start to realize something - it really doesn't matter what other people think. If being a TOTAL dork-pants makes you happy, then so be it. Be the dork-pants that you are. Play Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Mega Man, Chrono Trigger, Resident Evil, Left 4 Dead, Final Fantasy, Meat Boy, and Pokemon - ESPECIALLY Pokemon. Love you Thomas. Don't change.

This is my sister Miriam.
She is perfect.

Do you think I'm kidding? Oh. Ok. Just try to find a single thing wrong with her. What's that you say? It's impossible? You can't find a single flaw with this lovely, charming, flawless girl?! Yeah. That's what I thought. But in all seriousness, I thank my lucky stars that a Wonderchild like her exists. She really is a Wonderchild. She sings, she acts, she paints, she writes, she teaches me everyday that teenage girls can in fact, be this awesome.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

"Smiling's my favorite."

I know it's been said, and I know that it's a cliche, but cliches are only cliches because usually they're true: there is immeasurable power in smiling.
If you know me then you know that I smile a lot - maybe too much. But what you don't know is that sometimes I smile just for the sake of smiling. I don't smile because I'm happy, or amused, or trying to be polite. No. I smile because it's never wrong. Smiles are one-size-fits all. All people, all places, all situations are always improved with a smile. When I smile I feel like everything is O.K. for a second. It's like the universal band-aid for a bad day.

Smile at someone today, for no reason at all. Even if it creeps them out a little bit. :)

This picture I took of my friends little sister is candid. Oh yeah. That happened.

Friday, March 11, 2011

I made a cake.

To be perfectly honest, I did not make a cake. My friend Charlene made me a cake. But the phrase "I made a cake" signifies an accomplishment. Right now that's about all I am aiming for, one small accomplishment after another. Surviving this week was an accomplishment for me.

Oh, I also made a blog, it's a little rough right now but things will pick up here soon.
Alright. I'm gonna go have me some cake.