Hayley

scary.

Tue, 03 Jul 2007 06:05:25 GMT

[22:55] areyoualonee: fucking shit.
[22:55] Wes: hi
[22:55] Wes: what
[22:56] areyoualonee: I just tried calling your cell, and it somehow transfered me to a phone conversation of two guys talking about hopping the border and going to Santa Monica
[22:56] areyoualonee: I freaking kid you not.
[22:56] areyoualonee: I don't know HOW it happened
[22:56] areyoualonee: but it did
[22:56] Wes: i just heard it on my voice message
[22:56] Wes: weird...
[22:56] Wes: i deleted it
[22:56] Wes: scary
[22:56] areyoualonee: you heard it too?
[22:56] Wes: mhm
[22:56] Wes: it was in my voicemail
[22:57] areyoualonee: I was so fucking scared
[22:57] areyoualonee: so I tried three waying Jacob to show him
[22:57] areyoualonee: because he didn't believe me
[22:57] areyoualonee: and the voices stopped.

Sun, 01 Jul 2007 06:54:42 GMT

Party was fun fun fun fun.
My boyfriend & best friend are trannies.

I was pushed into a pool by Trevor.
I played I never, and lost, alongside Will.
I somehow mysteriously cut my toe open.
I tried to make Allie sing the chicken taco song.

and in a conversation with Matt, I said something that I never thought I'd say, and probably seems really, really odd to people who don't know Wes...

areyoualonee: he was taller than me in heels, btw.

DUDE.

Sat, 16 Jun 2007 01:27:06 GMT

when i'm high, I can sing HIGHER, STRONGER, with lots of VIBRATO.

i had forgotten this.
i was pleased to find that i could belt alll of the national anthem... in a decently high key.

:DD

on Shakespeare.

Wed, 16 May 2007 00:30:24 GMT

I must go read Act I of Romeo & Juliet for honors English. I've read it countless times in the past, but now it's important to absorb every single detail. I've picked up much more this time around than I had in the past. For instance, the reason Capulet doesn't really want Juliet to marry Paris so soon is because he knows how much it negatively effects marriage when you are forced to marry at a young age, as he and Lady Capulet did. I have also realized why, precisely, Lady Capulet isn't much of a mother figure to Juliet; because she was forced to marry Capulet young, and she didn't know how to parent.

See, the things you pick up when you actually try?

I fall more and more in love with Shakespeare as I read more of his works. And I have decided that Romeo was probably based a lot upon himself. Considering throughout Shakespeare's works, he seems to have this great obsession with love, as does Romeo. And not really the concept of being in love himself, but just the prospect of love, and the search to find it.

Granted, Shakespeare did find Hathaway at a young age, but I don't necessarily believe that he truly loved her. More like I said above, that he was obsessed with the idea of being in love with her. From what I've read, Shakespeare never wrote of his love for Anne, but rather, he wrote about love in general.

The sonnets weren't directed at her at all. They were merely directed at love, undefined. If I were alive in the Elizabethan days, I would have for sure showed him how to love me. I wish I wish I wish. To be loved by someone so passionate about love... would be lovely.

MAS*H

Thu, 12 Apr 2007 23:44:38 GMT

apparently I'm a slutty, ditzy, tap-dancing bimbo,

FRITZI!
One of three sisters, along with Agnes & Mitzi.

=]
THIS IS EXCITING.
I get to be giggly, dumb, and tap dance.

I totally knew I'd get it, since in the cold readings yesterday, I read for her. And there was this one line, "Can I get a cheeseburger?!" that I said very commically, stupidly, and ditzilly. The entire room laughed so freaking hard, as I continued in with my stupidity.

Oh man. I loove life.

Wed, 28 Mar 2007 05:38:14 GMT

I have a boyfriend.

he just asked me out.
& he is amazing.

!!

Sat, 17 Mar 2007 00:19:09 GMT

regarding theatre next year:

M*A*S*H as the play
Fiddler on the Rood as the musical.

EXCITEMENT!

EDIT:

Taylor= likes cleaning.
Hayley= does NOT.

Therefore, if Wonderful Taylor decides she wants to load the dishwasher, then that's lovely. She volunteered to.
BUT, this does not mean that Hayley should have to empty it. Taylor volunteered, remember? Hayley did not.

Hence, Hayley is not emptying the dishwasher.

Do not hold me up to my sister's standards. I will never be as good of a daughter as she is. I've learned to live with that. Now, you need to as well.

thank you for listening.

out of a hat, it's the the big first night.

Fri, 09 Mar 2007 06:37:10 GMT

Tonight was one of the most brilliant nights ever.

aka, opening of Fame.

A few things off-stage could have brought me down (aka, Trevor seeming to avoid me, other than a slap on the ass & Ally being all weird), but they didn't, because I was too thrilled to be anything short of ecstatic.

Dear cast;

You are all amazing actors/singers/dancers. You are amazing to joke around with (ie: Will The Drug Dealer vs Hayley The Drug-Needing Slut) , and just all-around amazing people.

Love you, and I'm looking forward to the next three days!

Pictures to come.

RIP, Rosie

Tue, 06 Feb 2007 05:36:42 GMT

RIP Rosie
1997-2007

I remember the first time I saw her. I was five; young and carefree. I saw her in that plastic little wadding pool, and instantly fell in love with her. There were probably a half dozen puppies in the pool, but Rosie stood out to me. She was alone; not playing with the other puppies as they tumbled on and around each other.

So I sat in a chair next to her. Petted her. Loved on her, until my mother said it was time to leave the store. I cried, begged and pleaded to keep the puppy- such a tiny little thing.

After many tears and a fierce struggle, we took Rosie home sometime in December. My mom told me that she would be my Christmas gift from Santa, and that he'd leave my mom a cheque to pay for her.

I loved Rosie the way all people love new things. She was cute, and playful and would lick your face and neck until you wreaked of dog. I remember my sister and I running through the house, playing with her. Jumping on couches to hide from the wrath of her puppy teeth.

My neighbors and I would play with her in the front yard- tying her to a metal pole in the ground, and running in circles around her. I remember, one time my mom threw a ball for her to catch, and it went past her leash allowed, so she flipped over trying to reach it.

I thought it was the most hilarious thing I'd ever seen.

Rosie always had a way of cheering me up when I was down. Always licked my face and played with me.

In fact, last Sunday, a week from yesterday, Jon, Veronica and I took her along on a scavenger hunt. She was perfectly fine; nothing wrong at all. As playful and cheery as always.

I don't remember her ever not being that way. She stayed a puppy at heart until her dying day. Today.

I was sitting at my computer, on Myspace, as I heard Taylor crying. I groaned, thinking it was just her being typically dramatic Taylor. Until she walked into my room, and crying, said those awful words, "Poopers is dead."

I was shocked. I felt numb. Just this morning I saw her, her normal self, and said "Move, dog!" as she got under my feet as she always does.

The next thing I know, I'm looking at her dead body laying in my yard. Just laying there all peaceful; just the way you see corpses in movies. She just lay there, still, and dead.

I don't think I've cried so hard in years. Taylor and I sat there in the living room, both lost in a fit of tears; bawling, and choking and coughing on tears, until I couldn't take it anymore. Until my tingling body opened to the door, and ran to the fence, leaping over it, and running down the street with sudden energy that I never knew I possessed.

In ran, crying, into my best friends arms, who just held me.

I never thought I'd be the one to cry at death. I always thought I'd bite my tongue and go on living life. But you never know how anything will go before it happens.

I'm in so much pain right now. I've been crying off and on all day. I'm more dizzy than I've been in a while, and I'm almost certain I'll faint soon, and possibly die from a broken heart.

This hurts worse than anything I've ever felt.

And with that, I leave you with a poem.

Gone From My Sight

I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white
sails to the morning breeze and starts
for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength
I stand and watch her until at length
she hangs like a speck of white cloud
just where the sea and sky come
to mingle with each other

Then someone at my side says;
"There, she is gone!"

"Gone where?"

Gone from my sight. That is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull
and spar as she was when she left my side
and she is just as able to bear her
load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her.

And just at the moment when someone
at my side says, "There, she is gone!"
There are other eyes watching her coming,
and other voices ready to take up the glad
shout,

"Here she comes!"

And that is dying.

Henry Van Dyke

Mon, 18 Dec 2006 04:57:53 GMT

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Comment to be considered.