tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11759763424951042172024-03-04T21:12:57.835-08:00Dear You, Love LylaWhere I come to bitch and bragLyla Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14214644748053339058noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175976342495104217.post-53730474461017880272010-01-14T18:41:00.000-08:002010-01-14T18:58:40.356-08:00Real Life Good Luck ChuckWhen I was 15 turning 16, I was in a long (almost a whole year! Hey- that was long for me in high school) serious relationship with a boy named Jon. He had a car and was super sweet. We used to stay out late just driving around listening to music and talking.<br /><br />One thing about me is I hate driving by dead animals. I get really upset. One time I made my mom stop in our neighborhood when I saw a rabbit hit by a car on the side of the road. We sat there for an hour waiting for an animal rescue to come see if they could do anything for the bunny. Unfortunately it died right there on the side of the road and I was devastated.<br /><br />Jon had heard the story, probably more than once. One night when we were driving I pointed out what I thought was a dead dog and started getting sad. When we passed by he looked closely in the rearview mirror and said "nah...that was just some trash. Don't worry".<br /><br />A week or so later I pointed out another dead animal. It was dark, so I wasn't sure what it was but before I could get sad he assured me it was just a brown bag.<br /><br />The same thing happened with the next animal I 'thought' I saw. I started thinking that maybe my trauma had me seeing dead animals that weren't really there.<br /><br />Until one night I saw what was very obviously a dead buck on the side of the road. Huge antlers and all. I cried out pointing it out to Jon as we drove by. He says "Nah....just trash again".<br />He'd been lying to me the whole time! I thought it was the sweetest thing ever.<br /><br />Facebook tells me Jon got married last week. I've had 6 other ex boyfriends get married; but this one has bothered me the most so far. I dunno, I guess I just always had this thought hidden away in the back somewhere that if I was old and lonely he'd still be there. Single and waiting.Lyla Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14214644748053339058noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175976342495104217.post-26514263252447898582010-01-12T20:59:00.000-08:002010-01-12T21:05:44.730-08:00SO far in 2010...I have paid $3000 to an apartment complex I haven't lived in since October. Eaten 5 cans of tuna on lettuce. Made it to work on time 0 times. Slept in my contacts overnight only twice. Witnessed a snowboarding accident that resulted in death. Threw the Christmas tree out but haven't vacuumed the fallen needles.<br /><br />My laundry is piled higher than my dresser. I wish I hadn't left it piling up for so long. I wish I had started the New Year off with an empty laundry basket.Lyla Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14214644748053339058noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175976342495104217.post-6584386226103247992009-12-25T20:57:00.000-08:002009-12-25T21:08:33.473-08:00More to sayI often find myself logging into my old blogger account with a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">million</span> things I need to get out of my head. I just never really fell in love with this new blog. Change just feels hard for me. <br /><br />I had a rough year. I moved in with a friend who turned out to be a heroin addict. I moved again.. into (my not so new anymore) boyfriends condo. I had to give up my bunny. I found him a great home with a family with kids that will love him but I still feel like a failure. I still have <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Nahla</span>. She has matured into an amazing dog. It was a puppy I wanted all along and I never should have tried to replace that need with a bunny.<br /><br />I'm trying to get back to this. It helps that Santa brought me a new HP mini. <br /><br />Happy Holidays!Lyla Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14214644748053339058noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175976342495104217.post-76974137348702613102009-03-01T21:07:00.000-08:002009-03-01T21:13:05.632-08:00Sometimes I wish...I smelled like high ceilings, mustiness and retro fashion.<br /><br />that my boyfriend was younger<br /><br />that I was younger.<br /><br />I feel so rushed. It scares me that I may never in my life live alone.Lyla Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14214644748053339058noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175976342495104217.post-28973577803229065122009-01-13T05:47:00.000-08:002009-01-13T06:03:33.136-08:00GloveI found the match to the glove you set aside for me when we moved out. You know, the one that I brushed off and mocked you for saving. I asked you what I was going to do with one glove. I tried to make you feel stupid for going out of your way to return it to me. I didn't want any favors from you. I was sick of you trying to make it up to me. There is nothing you could do or say to change anything that happened.<br /><br />It's been almost a month since we've spoken. I see you've given up. This would have been our third New Years together. I stopped checking up on you via facebook. Your "This is my year..." and "I have the greatest friends" updates just added to the hate I still feel for you. This is not <strong><em>your </em></strong>year, this is my year. You had your years and you wasted them. <br /><br />I'm trying to let my bad habits die, but it's hard. Doubts are creeping in every crack of my relationship. But he's understanding and is so quick to let things go. I wish some of that easy going-ness would rub off on me. <br /><br /><br />I hate that I miss you.Lyla Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14214644748053339058noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175976342495104217.post-23082894257584521232008-12-22T17:47:00.001-08:002008-12-23T10:03:55.868-08:00Nahla Love<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUz5WZAC_HZVNfP2omPaHsHx9HeLL-Gv7yYGFT_bdY31pOOWcfQsVHs_lAJg28lRfI6ZM5d7d6DpkKaSmHHmTPH93AUApW09r9iOjbe8e94qgrIjiHzeNbFCsgWGHd8JdtkAex5WQnh1Y/s1600-h/IMG_1150.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282796735440156322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUz5WZAC_HZVNfP2omPaHsHx9HeLL-Gv7yYGFT_bdY31pOOWcfQsVHs_lAJg28lRfI6ZM5d7d6DpkKaSmHHmTPH93AUApW09r9iOjbe8e94qgrIjiHzeNbFCsgWGHd8JdtkAex5WQnh1Y/s320/IMG_1150.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>How does that song go? "Every step you take, every move you make...." something something?</div><div> </div><div>Well anyway, that's what living with Nahla is like. Every time I turn around, she's right there behind me. Every step I take I have to be careful she isn't right underneath my foot. When I go to sleep she follows me to the door. When I open the door in the morning, she's sitting right there. Waiting for me. It's adorable but very dangerous. I'm afraid I'm going to break one of her awkwardly long puppy legs by accidentally stepping on them. When I sit on the couch I have to make sure she didn't weasel her way through my legs and jump into the very spot my bum is about to hit. </div><div> </div><div>We are working on learning 'personal space'. My Bubble, your bubble. But I don't think she really understands. That might be because she doesn't speak English. </div>Lyla Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14214644748053339058noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175976342495104217.post-15976088174746210702008-12-12T10:03:00.000-08:002008-12-12T10:34:30.324-08:00Birth Control WoesSince I'm pretty sure that 99.99999 percent of the people that read my blog are female I have no problem talking about this. For the .0000001 that are male, I'm sorry if this gets a little uncomfortable, but it's always good to know about these things to help you relate to any females in your life.<br /><br />My birth control made me crazy. Not Britney shaving her head crazy, more like Daisy De La Hoya weepy crazy. I started on TriNessa (a generic form of Ortho) about 5 months ago. All seemed fine and dandy for the first month or two. Then the breakouts started happening.<br /><br />Some people may hate me for this... but I have never had any problems with acne. Ever. One of the only things I am very grateful for during my teenage years. I may have never grown any boobs, but at least I never had a zit either. But now all of a sudden I had one. Then two. Now it's just gotten crazy. Like a party on my chin. One showed up and invited all his little buddies and I'm going through foundation and other types of cover up faster than I'm going through cream cheese. And I love cream cheese.<br /><br />On top of all this drama with my skin I've been crying at <strong>everything</strong>. I cry at commercials, fuzzy animal videos, when I can't find my shoe or when Dallas and his mom got eliminated from <a href="http://www.cbs.com/primetime/amazing_race/bio/toni_and_dallas_13/bio.php?season=13">The Amazing Race</a>. I cried when the <a href="http://popculturemadness.blogspot.com/2008/11/live-feed-puppies.html">live feed</a> <a href="http://www.ustream.tv/channel/shiba-inu-puppy-cam">cam puppies</a> started leaving to go to their new homes.<br /><br />I started dating my new guy right in the middle of all this. I try telling him all the time that I don't usually act like this, I don't always cry during NCIS, but I guess it doesn't really matter since he's still with me anyway. I switch to another prescription this week and am looking forward to not having to wake up and run to the bathroom to put <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polyfilla">spackle</a> on my chin before my sweetie wakes up.<br /><br />I just wish I had figured out what the problem was earlier. It's hard to be the tough macho girl that I usually am when I'm crying over a <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I4kNl7cQdcU">Folgers commercial</a>.Lyla Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14214644748053339058noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175976342495104217.post-41898830160382435542008-12-09T11:41:00.000-08:002008-12-09T12:13:48.542-08:00Ruh-Roh, ShaggyTo understand my most recent dilema I think I need to be a little more specific about what Teach teaches. When I first wrote the post calling him teach I didn't really understand his job, I just knew he works for a fancy schmancy private school and teaches classes.<br /><br />He does teach, but he teaches gym. One class. It's rotated between him and someone else. When he first tried to explain it to me, I was confused. I went to public school, our gym teachers were very um... lame? <br /><br />"So, you teach kids how to bounce balls? One class period, every other day? And they pay you?"<br /><br />Then he went into this whole thing about sports medicine, he's a Certified Athletic Trainer, something, something. Then I pictured him as one of those guys at <a href="http://www.goldsgym.com/">Golds Gym</a> that cheer you on while you're lifting weights. <br /><br />But no, apparently he's not one of those either.<br /><br />I didn't really get it until we were watching football. One of the guys went down and all these guys with towels ran out onto the field. He said "see, that's what I do. When one of our athletes gets hurt, I'm the one that deals with them first."<br /><br />Ohhh. I kinda get it now. I guess at private schools they take their athletics a little more seriously than they do at public school because I don't recall us ever having one specific 'injury guy' at my school. Our athletic department was made entirely of teachers. Our football coach was my history teacher, English teacher coached soccer, etc.<br /><br />So that's what he does. He doesn't really teach anything, and it's a good thing too. He's not a very academic guy. If it's not sports related, he's not interested.<br /><br />So here's my dilemma. He has to write a letter of recommendation for one of his student athletic trainers. He asked me if I'd look over it after he was done. He admitted that writing is not one of his strong points. He sent it to me and his dad, asking to check mistakes and grammar issues. <br /><br />I told him I'd look it over, but I would be absolutely no help with the grammar, but I'd let him know if I saw anything wrong.<br /><br />So I looked it over. It was <strong>awful</strong>. Just awful. Grammar is the least of his problem. It was too long. It pointed out things that he didn't like about his student. But he followed up with, "he has matured and doesn't do them anymore". I know he had good intentions, and I may be wrong, but a recommendation letter is supposed to be fluffy and point out things that are good about someone. That is why you recommend them, duh.<br /><br />So, I took a few minutes, pulled out all the good things, reworded most of it and threw together a much better letter. Basically completely gutting the whole thing. I also ran my version by my bestest who is an English major. I sent him back my version, with this little note...<br /><br />"Hey babe!! Your letter was great! A little long though, maybe? I condensed it down a little and added a few suggestions. Read mine over and let me know what you think."<br /><br />Now thinking about it, I hope he doesn't get offended. He hasn't responded yet. Did I overdue it a little?Lyla Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14214644748053339058noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175976342495104217.post-44919610512771568772008-12-07T20:21:00.001-08:002008-12-08T11:06:42.811-08:00Teach and His Bobbleheads<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLmMC8TAh98VvH0DqBatRyYHUaoAljE1NHPRGPgb_h74_zNKqoo13JeA7FweQyL0AqLT_RY4ZzVUKdFvM6hb9jXKUO8Aayer8f3gGqELffiWlK2EVUKVqjinZ3fcpePHk0UFm4tjm3XMM/s1600-h/ovechkin+bobblehead.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277497496891620194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLmMC8TAh98VvH0DqBatRyYHUaoAljE1NHPRGPgb_h74_zNKqoo13JeA7FweQyL0AqLT_RY4ZzVUKdFvM6hb9jXKUO8Aayer8f3gGqELffiWlK2EVUKVqjinZ3fcpePHk0UFm4tjm3XMM/s320/ovechkin+bobblehead.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br />I never thought I'd be the girl that falls for the guy who decorates his condo in bobbleheads.</div><div> </div><div>But it happened and I am completely ok with it.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div><em>For now.</em><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div></div>Lyla Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14214644748053339058noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175976342495104217.post-32667727229181783732008-12-06T08:18:00.000-08:002008-12-06T08:51:12.843-08:00Nahla<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi396buklzfz7mH3q49CabBgaNYn_9rRHpDmPW4mCfUTYFlu1PCNs9ik5SD8AyJvMd23dYjn0oeCT9_fRuqC29jtesq2pkSc_JQAVdz6YL-jCQV9EiLiwrkYJiPOfbHzcADvwCypDYwrMs/s1600-h/Nahlatoys.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276712523765297858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi396buklzfz7mH3q49CabBgaNYn_9rRHpDmPW4mCfUTYFlu1PCNs9ik5SD8AyJvMd23dYjn0oeCT9_fRuqC29jtesq2pkSc_JQAVdz6YL-jCQV9EiLiwrkYJiPOfbHzcADvwCypDYwrMs/s320/Nahlatoys.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Last night as I was getting ready to go out I snapped this picture of Nahla. I thought it was so cute, her surrounded by her toys.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>When I went to review the picture I noticed this....</div><br /><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvuk0PA4gFEmDk-XyMXJzznzbd2dqVcTK_TtG5L_l14tMDDPDZ7KCkeH-J4ac8sZYUpAo1yPhChaXmkFivdeNp0jAEgQNJhOB5n2WByPPiuVVVPrYDWK_lrS2IB6whc2zhxyfhbq5AfXs/s1600-h/Nahlabrush.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276718452972722754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 285px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvuk0PA4gFEmDk-XyMXJzznzbd2dqVcTK_TtG5L_l14tMDDPDZ7KCkeH-J4ac8sZYUpAo1yPhChaXmkFivdeNp0jAEgQNJhOB5n2WByPPiuVVVPrYDWK_lrS2IB6whc2zhxyfhbq5AfXs/s320/Nahlabrush.JPG" border="0" /></a> GAH!! That's my brush!! </div><div> </div><div>She's such a little punk. </div></div>Lyla Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14214644748053339058noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1175976342495104217.post-21601675941148339492008-12-04T18:50:00.000-08:002008-12-04T19:00:04.188-08:00Sippin on my HateradeNo, the title of this post bears no relevance to what I am typing. This is my second attempt to keep myself sane without having to dish out the dolla dolla bills for therapy. Whether this is your first time reading anything I've shared, or if you followed me over from<a href="http://www.lylalou.blogspot.com/"> here</a>, welcome. There are a few things I think you should know....<br /><br />*I have terrible grammar, I over punctuate!!!! and I type like I talk, so it doesn't always make sense. If any of these things bother you, I am really sorry!!<br /><br />*Sometimes I blog when I am drunk. I try to remember to hit my spell check, but it doesn't always happen. Forgive me.<br /><br />* The main reason I blog is to help myself organize all the crazy issues going on in my head. I love my bloggy buddies and always love their input and advice, but haters BEWARE. I will not be drinkin on your hater-ade.<br /><br />*What is it with me and the hater-ade tonight?Lyla Louhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14214644748053339058noreply@blogger.com1