what's new II

 

p.s. i use photoshop.

words of wisdom from our very own fly, mallory.

"hannah, you don't have to know someone to marry them. there just has to be a mutual attraction."

thank you, mallory. my life is easy now.

huzzah.

And at once, I knew I was not magnificent.

It was ten o'clock at night.
I pulled into the driveway and parked my car.
I took my keys out of the ignition and drew in a deep, cold breath.
When I stepped out of the car, I saw that she was outside waiting for me underneath the porch light.

She smiled as I walked toward her.
She threw her arms around me and said, "Welcome home."
Then she kissed my forehead and told me to come inside.


"It's nice to have company. It get's lonely. Especially since my being an empty-nester is so recent. I miss having people around. You know that you're welcome anytime." She was so real in the way that she spoke. And I did feel welcome. I felt loved. And I felt wanted.
"So. How about a cup of coffee?" she asked as we walked into her kitchen.
It was very late, and I didn't need the caffeine. But, for some reason, a cup of coffee seemed like the perfect remedy to cure my broken spirit. I said yes as she pulled two ceramic mugs down from the cupboard. She filled them both to the brim and handed one to me. Then we went into her room and both took a seat on the queen sized bed.

She looked at me, smiled, and said, "Tell me everything."

I laughed and automatically began to speak.
And didn't stop. For a long time.

She never broke eye contact and nodded her head as she listened to me ramble on and on about things I had never felt the need to say before.
I rambled about the questions that I couldn't find answers to.
I rambled about the problems I couldn't seem to solve.
I rambled about the feelings that I never allowed myself to ramble about before.
I rambled about my dreams and how hopeless they seem.

Then, I opened my mouth and tried to ramble about the past, and how I wish so terribly that it were the present.
But I couldn't get out more than a sentence on that topic before my eyes welled up.
I knew the waterfall would pour if I said another word on the subject.
She saw this struggle as I stopped talking and put her hand on my shoulder.

"Hey," she said.
"It's okay to cry."

I laughed after she said this. And cried too.
Then we laughed and cried together.

No one had ever said that to me before.
It's a line I've heard in movies, no doubt, and probably read in many books.
But no one had ever said, to my face, that it was okay to cry.

It was nice to hear.
It was nice to know that I didn't need to keep it all together all the time.
And breaking down is allowed.

It's okay to cry.
There is strength in tears.


Then she took me out for a late-night slice of banana cream pie at the local diner.


Sometimes, life's okay.

--Mallory

stories.

today was a cloudy day.
so i went where i always go. to the art.
i went to see the exhibit of student's ceramics in the hfac. if you're here, you should go see it. it's called the mud show.
immediately all my bothers floated away. i walked through slowly and the clicks of my heels echoed. i was alone.
i told the pieces thank you. thank you for accepting me and making me feel like i belong. and my eyes fogged the sight of the star watchers.
i went out the back of the building and into the little statue park. i sat on the bench in front of the pool of water and i watched the shadows of the leaves floating in it.
i listened to the song playing in my head--i realized that it was more holiness give me.
more gratitude give me, more trust in the Lord.
i knew that today wasn't a day to think about myself. today was a day to think about everything else. when i'm not noticing beauty, something is wrong.
so i walked home and i packed a bag with my film camera and gear. i clipped a green pen to my shirt and i carried a notebook. i chose not to bring music. i chose to listen to the wind.
as i was walking across the street, i met a boy named joe. he told me he liked my shirt. he asked me what my story was.
i told him where i was from. but that's not my story.
he told me where he was from and what he was studying, but that's not his story either.
we said goodbye.
i took photos of the leaves in the pool and the ceramics that made me cry. i wandered and i took notes. i explored.
i sat on a ledge and i thought about stories.
i'm hungry for stories. i have so many details; i want to know the story.
i want to know why people are here and i want to know why they love home. i want to know the last thing they cried about or laughed about. i want to know what they would do right now if they had any choice. i want to know if they are in love and i want to know what made them fall in love.
i want to hear those stories about their rock bottom and i want to hear about where their mountaintop is. i want to know dreams and fears and i want to hear about strength.
i want to find someone new and sit with them for hours and listen to their story.

and i think, a little bit, i want to tell mine. we always find out so much about ourselves when we're letting someone else into our hearts, don't you think?

what's your story?

Oh, The Awkward Phase.

The most wonderful phase.
You know about the awkward phase, don't you?
You must. Because, unless you are six years old, you have already lived through it.
Or, in some cases, are currently in it.

It generally starts close to age seven and usually ends around age thirteen.
For some, it begins sooner. For some, it lasts shorter. And for some, it lasts much longer.

And our mothers were so nice to us, telling us we were the most beautiful things in the world.
Which, to them, I'm sure that we really were the most beautiful things.
And, in that phase, I definitely thought I was the hottest thing.
I think we all did.
And, looking back...
The awkward phase truly was the most glorious time of my life.


Remember being in that phase?
And all the awkward things you did?
And all the awkward things you wore?
And all the awkward things you said?

I sure do.

The choker necklaces. The butterfly clips. The strange teeth. The misunderstood mind. The love for the Disney Channel. The overalls. The chicken scratch handwriting. The constant singing of Britney Spears. The thinking it's awesome to put your younger siblings through hell.
It's all so clear to me.

Those were the glory days.
You see, it doesn't matter what you do in the awkward phase.
Because you're ugly no matter what. And so is everybody else in the phase
.
And that's what made us all awesome when we were at this point in our lives.

We were all awkward together.
We were all ugly together.
We were all awesome together.

Meet me, in my awkward prime:

I was not cute.
But you better believe that I was awesome.

Sometimes I'm pretty sure that I'm still in the awkward phase.
Because sometimes I show the symptoms.
And, to be clear, let's review the symptoms of the awkward phase.

You might be in the awkward phase if...
- you talk to yourself in the mirror.
- people laugh when you are dancing.
- you make funny faces when you are by yourself in public.
- nobody knows how to respond to some of the things you say.
- it's difficult to be taken seriously.
- people tell you that you look hilarious when you are hysterically crying.
- you sometimes say things louder than you had originally intended.
- you always have dirt under your fingernails.
- potty humor is funnier to you than it should be.
- your idea of flirting involves insults and wiping boogers.
- your laugh makes people feel uncomfortable.
or if
- you do weird things without warning for no comprehensible reason.

If any of these apply to you, you might be in the awkward phase.

I love the awkward phase.
I have two brothers who are currently in the midst of the awkward phase.
And every second of being with them is an absolute hoot.

Long Live the Awkward Phase.


Those days consisted of some good times.
I met a lot of my very best friends in the awkward phase.

Ari.
Shelbie.
Hannah.
To name a few.

We were so cute and ugly and awkward.

Embrace your inner awkward.

Awkward is as awkward does.

Awkwardly yours, 

Mallory.

 

i was having a hard day, so i got out my journal, and this is what came out of my pen. take it to heart; it's true.

Oh, Brother.

Meet Daniel, my youngest brother:

Don't tell me that you don't think he's the cutest kid ever.
How could anyone not love that freckled little face?

Daniel has been through a lot for only being ten.
He's very brave.
And the kid is a comic genius.

I love him so much.


He is my biggest hero.
And I am his biggest fan.
Especially because he created his own costume for Halloween:

Only cool ten year old kids love Michael Jackson.

And only the coolest want to dress up as him for Halloween.











I hope you all had a wonderful Halloween.
Full of sugar and laughs.
I know I did.

Three cheers for a perfect October.
And I raise my glass to November.
May it bring scarves and smiles and turkey and new friends.


"Above all, be true to yourself, and if you cannot put your whole heart into it, take yourself out of it."


Love, Mal