Dried Paint

He has sunset eyes and always drives with the windows down.

He doesn’t take no for an answer but he doesn’t ask for much. He flexes his toes when he plays video games, rocks back and forth and tenses every time he strikes. He laughs short; a little bubble of humor, but it is a beautiful sound ringing in my ears long after he’s gone. He is quiet but when he speaks his words are thoughtful, thoughtless, and his bass buzzes in my chest: thump thump thump. He touches the deepest part of my soul, barely reaching, he knows me inside and out and he says that he loves me.

He has sunset eyes and always drives with the windows down.

Merry Christmas, Darling

Hey!

I just wanted to drop by and say that I hope you're having a very merry Christmas wherever you are. I know that this time of year can be stressful with all the different things we have to do and prepare for but I've been feeling overwhelmingly thankful for everything in my life. Like, even though sometimes it sucks and nothing seems to be going right... I have food to eat and clothes to wear and a roof over my head, a warm (or cool when it's 80 degrees outside like it is right now) place to sleep at night. I have people who care about me, even one or two that love me, and two doggies that make me laugh on a daily basis. They're little things that we take for granted.

Remember that you're blessed this Christmas and remind someone you love that you're thinking about them today.

And if you can't be with someone you love, if they're far away or you're out of touch, say a little prayer for them and that should be enough. <3

xx Anna

Rock Out With Your Socks Out | 5 Seconds of Summer

On September 9th 2015, a friend and I embarked on a spontaneous 11 hour journey to Raleigh, North Carolina in order to see one of our favorite bands play in their first ever headline tour. 5 Seconds of Summer played their aptly named 'Rock Out With Your Socks Out' show with the kind of energy and talent that you wouldn't necessarily expect from a band so young and made the entire travel ordeal worth every second.

Arriving at the Walnut Creek Amphitheater around 2pm, VIP lanyards in tow, the sun high in the sky beating down on us like it was trying to make a point that it was the bigger man, we stood in line for 2 more hours before being led like sheep into the venue. A stroke of good luck landed us sat directly center in front of the stage extension in the second row so when the boys trotted out for the Q&A session, it was intimate enough to feel like sitting with friends at dinner.

Questions were asked and they questions were (mostly) answered and they played Jet Black Heart and She's Kinda Hot for us. They looked understandably exhausted, this being the 63rd show of their first tour and having just had a regrettable hotel stalking experience the previous night in Charlotte, but still managed to make jokes and appear grateful for fan support. Ashton told us an amazing story about Michael dipping his balls in Ash's ice bucket after the Charlotte show, during which Michael turned a bright red and attempted to hide his face in his hands while yelling, "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU TOLD THEM THIS STORY. I WAS IN A VULNERABLE STATE". Luke was barefoot, bare-armed, and sipping what looked like tea, casually kicking his feet to and fro against the stage. Calum remained mostly quiet but still egregiously friendly despite the obnoxious 14 year old girls screaming at him about the hole in his pants.

The show itself was such a banger. The energy was high, the lights were bright, the music was loud and rocking. 5 Seconds of Summer delivered a show that was everything I expected it to be and the talent exemplified was of musicians far beyond their individual years (Ashton Irwin, in particular, is one of the most talented drummers I've ever seen perform live). The show had enough personality to fill the entire venue and then some despite the 30-40 minute delay halfway through for the bad weather ("I wanna say thanks to the weather for being an asshole. So fuck you, sky." - Michael Clifford).

All in all, I'm really glad we decided to drop everything and splurge a little to see this show. It was worth the money spent 100 percent and if you're a fan of 5 Seconds of Summer I highly suggest you invest in going to see a show sometime in your life. They're genuinely cool guys and are supremely talented.

I Was Made For Loving You

A couple of months ago I wrote a short post about love. I asked the void, "What is love?" and felt sad and hopeless about the prospect of real love in my life. Since then, I think I've found this magical "true love" thing that everyone is always talking about and thusly have been able to form a sort of malleable, flexible definition for it.

Here's what I think about true love as of August 20th 2015:

True love is unconditional and patient. When you love someone, you love them in spite of their flaws and imperfections. Love is waking up and thanking God that you have that special person in your life. Love is being willing to communicate and compromise. Love is having respect for one another's boundaries, thoughts, feelings, and decisions. Love is being able to laugh together even if sometimes you feel sad or angry. Love is that overwhelming feeling of pride and joy when you think of them late at night or see them smile or watch them kick ass at something they work hard to do. Love is being able to trust each other wholeheartedly, leaving no room for ultra-jealous thoughts or behaviors. Love is having a best friend, a confidant, a person to rely on. Love is being willing to commit, invest, and wait if need be.

I do not believe that love is always easy. I think perfect relationships where two people agree on everything and never argue or bicker or fight don't exist. I think sometimes being fully in love with someone is one of the hardest things in the world. Life is rough and the individual experiences we all go through are hard enough on our own; sometimes getting another person on the same page, to understand, is difficult. Sometimes you fight over big things; sometimes you fight over little things. Sometimes love is inconvenient, jumping out at you when circumstances aren't aligned. Sometimes you have to wait.

And sometimes the person you're in love with, truly in love with, doesn't feel the same way.

I don't think that makes the love you feel any less true.

Below is something Ted Mosby of How I Met Your Mother said about love:

One of the greatest television speeches about love that has ever existed.

Like I said, these are just my thoughts on the subject as of today. As you probably know, people grow and evolve and change over time so maybe my definition of love will change one day. But as for right now, I think it's a pretty solid definition of love in my life.

xx Anna

Actions Speak Louder Than Haircuts

A couple of years ago a male homosexual friend of a friend of mine said to me, blatantly ignorant of any idea who I actually was or of my sexual preference, "You would make a great lesbian". I was surprised by the statement, not only because of it's boldness (we'd only just met and I didn't even know his name yet) but because of it's content. I would... "make a great lesbian"? What exactly makes a great lesbian?

He went on flippantly stating that he while he was "absolutely gay" he was also attracted to me, which is why he thought I would be more than a perfect fit for the lesbian community. "You have a man's haircut and you're dressed sort of masculine so I just sort of figured..." he trailed off before showing us his driver's license featuring a much heavier version of himself, instantly changing the subject to how he had lost 100 pounds by eating a bowl of Special K a day.

While they spoke, I started to evaluate my appearance. I was wearing a pair of skinny jeans, some chucks, a graphic t-shirt and an old, khaki green hooded sweatshirt my ex-boyfriend had gifted me. I had recently asked for a pixie cut à la Anne Hathaway at the salon, so yes, my hair was non-typically short for a nineteen year old female college freshman living in South Alabama and sure, I wasn't dressed particularly feminine... but I was still unsure how my appearance would have anything to do with what gender I was or was not attracted to.

A couple of days later I debuted my new haircut to a bible study group I had been attending. I was approached in the kitchen by a smaller group of "friends" while I was chatting about my week with one of the adults in charge.

"Why would you cut your hair?" one of them said.
"Yeah, I'm not very happy about it." a boy who I had a (now regrettable) crush on said.
"I thought you were a boy when you got out of your car." another snickered.
The adult stayed surprisingly quiet, which I interpreted as her agreement with my peers, while I tripped over words and eventually squeaked out a super solid, "I don't know."

And so I grew my hair out.

It's something I sort of regret doing now that I realize why I did it. I loved my short hair. It made me feel spunky and sort of like (a much more lethargic) Selina Kyle. I liked styling it in a floppy quiff because I thought it looked edgy and also kind of like a 2013-era Louis Tomlinson. I really liked the way I looked... until I didn't anymore. The weird (and sometimes straight up rude) comments that peers and strangers thrust upon me made me hate my hair and feel more than a little uncomfortable in my skin. I became perpetually self-conscious about how I looked, always wary of how I dressed or did my makeup or the posture I had when I sat down. It was rough and I was never happy. I was anxious and angry and sad and I remember crying more than once about my "boyish" haircut as I waited impatiently for it to grow to a socially acceptable, feminine length.

It's been years since then and I can safely assure you that your haircut does not define you much in the same way your weight does not define you. These are outward appearances and shallow representations of who you are as a person. A non-typical haircut does not determine whether you are a homosexual, a heterosexual, a man, a woman, a drug dealer, a mom, etc. It's incredibly narrow minded to think that it does.

It should also be kept in mind that another person's appearance is not really any of your business. Someone's personal style is something that they feel comfortable in and being critical of their favorite shirt or their space buns is not going to make you a better person. You are not the authority on style in other people's lives. Unless they ask for your opinion on their oversized boyfriend jeans or Ugg boots or crop top, it's probably best to keep your thoughts to yourself.

Stereotypes exist for a reason but it's so important that you don't judge a person based on the way that they look. Actions speak far louder than haircuts and it's nice to be nice.

xx Anna

Casual Tuesday

On the way to Dragon City, a restaurant we haven't eaten at since Alec went on his adventure/internship to Panama. Andrew and I struggle to take nice pictures together.

Attempting to wrangle teenage boys into taking pictures results in something like this: grainy, blurry, unposed pictures taken in Snapchat camera.

Seth and I don't have any pictures together which is unacceptable for two best friends. After seeing these results, the reason why becomes fairly clear.

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"Skinny = fun."

A couple of days ago, a good friend of mine and I were out and about, lounging lazily on a windy pier in Fairhope, Alabama. We were talking about our siblings and our childhood and he was running his hands along his toned, fit stomach when he said to his upwards of 170 pound friend, "Skinny equals fun."

This comment hit me like a ton of bricks and I'm pretty sure I looked just as dumbfounded as I felt. I couldn't believe that someone so close to me would say something so insensitive, so clearly wrong, so casually to someone so clearly NOT skinny. After the initial shock of how quickly the conversation had turned from 4-year-old versions of ourselves shoving crayons up our noses to the serious topic of body image, I realized I didn't feel angry... but sad. I wasn't sad for myself; I was sad for him. His "skinny equals fun" comment wasn't intended as a malicious snipe at my body. It was a self-inflicted jab at his own physique.

I asked him what he meant. He went on to tell me about how growing up his family used to tease him about his weight, gave him a nickname based off of his chubbier body type that they still use to this day, and that eventually it had instilled in him a great deal of self-conciousness. He told me that he used to read magazines and watch movies that portrayed all these "skinny" people having a good time, doing cool things, looking glamorous.

It's highly unfortunate how much pressure is put on both women AND men by the media to look a very particular way. Women need to be "tight" and "thin" but also need big boobs and a butt. Men need to be "ripped" but "fit" (read as: washboard abs) and be strong enough to do like a bazillion push-ups. Not only are the standards of beauty set so high above average, but it seems nowadays that even after you've achieved this untouchable level of beauty that only celebrities or supermodels can reach, you still come under fire on social media outlets. "She must have had plastic surgery!", "His weight loss just accentuated his crooked nose!", etc., etc., and on and on it goes.

It's not just the media that's pushing this idea of a better, thinner you. When I was in high school, I struggled with an eating disorder. I was convinced that if I was skinnier, I would be happier (much like my high school aged friend thinks now). I didn't eat during the week, wouldn't bring lunch to school, and if I ate anything at dinner it was small portions of vegetables which I promptly vomited out of my system 10 minutes later. I went from 160 pounds to 135 over the course of a few months. People praised me like you wouldn't believe. My parents, my classmates, one of my teachers even pulled me aside after class to tell me how great I looked and how proud of me she was.

And man, that kind of attention and praise amazing. I ate less than ever! I hadn't had a french fry in 4 months. I didn't even know what chocolate or cheeseburgers tasted like anymore. I was "happy" but I was miserable. I had to watch myself like a hawk. There were times when I would cry over the toilet bowl because I just did not want to throw up again but I knew that if I let that donut I'd just eaten be digested, my whole system would be ruined.

Luckily, I broke myself of this cycle after I graduated. It was partly on accident since I went through a terrible break-up during which I drowned my sorrows in hearty meals of McDonalds at 11pm. Regardless the method, I gained all the weight back and then some. It's been three years since then and every now and then I still struggle with being positive about my body. I just have to remind myself that my self-worth is not tied to a number on a scale, big or small.

It's impossible to please everyone with the way you look. There will always be someone who thinks you're too fat or too skinny or they won't like the way you fix your hair or the way you do your makeup. You have to realize that the only person you need to please is yourself. If you don't like the way you look, change it. But don't change yourself because some reporter on E! News or some troll on Twitter or a naive classmate thinks that you'd look better if you were 10 pounds lighter/heavier or wore different clothes.

You are beautiful but it's not your weight that makes you that way. It's your confidence and your positivity and your uniqueness (as cliche as that sounds).

I love you. <3
-
If you have an eating disorder, you're not alone. You can message me on any platform if you ever need someone to talk to. You can also visit NEDA to get more information.

Have A Little Faith

Recently (and by recently I really mean the past 3 years), I've been struggling with feelings of hopelessness. At the ripe age of 21, I feel like I've already made enough mistakes to last an entire lifetime and really my mistakes have run the gambit category-wise. I've screwed up relationships, academic plans, job opportunities, etc. The list goes on and on. I want to believe I'm not the only person I know that feels like a total failure, to the point where it is debilitating and I can't bring myself to do anything other than lay in bed for hours, but I look around me and everyone I know seems to be making their way in the world with far less anxiety than I seem to have experienced.

I've taken some time to quietly ponder how this could have happened to me and I've realized that, while there were some outside influences causing me to make negative decisions and some people in my life that were not doing anything but "poisoning the water supply" as it were, most of my negative experiences have been due to uncontrollable feelings of fear and panic that have manifested themselves inside me. They are mind-made anxieties that have stopped me from progressing at a normal developmental pace. Now while this revelation is helpful as it has made me realize who my enemy is, how exactly do you combat the fears inside your own head?

The only solution I've come up with so far is to HAVE FAITH. Jeremiah 29:11 says, "'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'" Right there in writing God is telling me that the feeling of hopelessness and like I have no worth in this world are not true. They're little lies that Satan and his little demon friends tell me to ensure that I stay this way, frozen in fear and uncertainty.

This doesn't only apply to me. It applies to you too, reader. I know it's hard to have faith. It's something that I truly struggle with too; it's a daily battle. If you ever feel lost and like there's no point in living or continuing on, just remember that God has a plan for you and it's one that will fill your life with purpose and joy.

What is love?

Define 'love' for me. Is it someone who brings out the best in you? Always has your back? It's more than attraction; what is it exactly?

— Anna • アンナ (@wtvranna) May 6, 2015

I was thinking about the subject of 'love' today. I want to say that I know what it is because I have experienced it but... I'm not sure if I've ever experienced true love. The kind of love that people sing and write about.

Sure, I've been in love once before but it was a shallow, selfish version of love between two immature people who cared only about themselves. We weren't ready for a real love and that's ok. I don't regret the time I spent with him.

But it does make me wonder what the real thing must be like.

Love is a mystery to me.

Dreams Are Weird

Right so 9 times out of 10 I can't remember anything that I've dreamed about, like ever. But every now and then I have a dream that is so ridiculous and nonsensical that it manages to brand itself in my mind. Those dreams I remember have the tendency to be dreamt about again but after a couple of months have gone by. I find that to be super interesting.

Anyway, a couple weeks ago I had this weird dream where a (really cute) friend of mine could only say one word: "Kotaro". Now this seems like a really random word for him to continually repeat but I'd hung out with him earlier and he said the name "Kotaro" about 1,256 times. So in the dream he could only say this word but I was hearing it as actual language. I was the only person who could decipher what he was trying to say and everyone else in the dream thought I was crazy and he was broken.

It escalated to some kind of weird on-the-run style situation where we were trying to get away from these people who wanted to institutionalize him and teach him how to speak, I would never be able to see him again, my car caught fire and I was trapped inside, 911 put me on hold, etc. It was a mess of a dream.

So now I'm wondering what exactly is going on in my mind. Like, what is going on in my subconscious that generated that kind of scenario?According to science, there's no concrete reason as to why we dream. Some studies have shown that the process of dreaming helps us create solutions to problems in our lives or deal with emotions. Sigmund Freud actually believed that dreams were a picture of our desires, motivations, and thoughts. He figured that dreaming was a way to satisfy our wants in an acceptable, non-permanent way.

Whatever the case, I'm not entirely sure what my dream was trying to tell me. I'll update you when I figure it out. Ha.