Manifesto Ultimatum: Part II

Challenge Number two: 

Write about your zodiac/horoscope and if you think it fits your personality.

My element: Air 

Your stone: Aquamarine 

Life Pursuit: To explore a little bit of everything.

Vibration: Intense mental energy

Key Life Phrase:  I Think

Gemini's Secret Desire: To be ahead of the crowd

Key Characteristics: Multi-talented, thinker, talkative, social, scattered, diverse interests, loves variety and excitement

Compatible Star Signs: Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Libra, Aquarius, Aries and Taurus

Famous Geminis: Colin Farrell, Marilyn Monro, Johnny Depp, Clint Eastwood, Paula Abdul, Morgan Freeman, Mike Myers, Paul McCartney, Elizabeth Hurley, Drew Carey, Heidi Klum, Courteney Cox, Natalie Portman, Angelina Jolie, Nicole Kidman and Andie MacDowell

Mantra: I am calm.

My Description: Gemini is all about intelligence and communication. You're born under this sign and have a talent for and love of using your mind and expressing yourself fully.

As a Gemini, you are a bower bird, mentally, and take an interest in all sorts of different things. Anything that gets your mind ticking over will grab you. You constantly try to challenge your mental abilities and will make extra efforts to understand anything you put your mind to.

 You can't understand why other people don't feel the same way. To you, this is kind of stimulation is your life blood. Anyone who engages you in quick-witted and thoughtful banter will win your heart for sure.

If  you could be accused of anything, it would be that you spread yourself too thinly, by being interested in too many things. The fact that you take on so much also means you risk wearing yourself out and letting your vitality engine slow down. It is not easy for you to pace yourself, but if you can get your self-discipline working on this, you can achieve more than most. Make sure you have enough fuel in your gas tank to get you to where you want to go.

People always love your company -- your adaptability makes you interesting. People are amazed at your versatility, at the way you manage to juggle so many different activities. Is there anything you don't try your hand at? They wonder.

You are the type of person friends and relatives turn to for advice on their love life. This has an upside for you too -- it helps you understand what's going on in your own life, romantically speaking.

Geminis seem to grow younger rather than older. Physically,  you will maintain a youthful glow, and you will never lose your fun-loving liveliness.

And Finally, the daily horoscope: You might not feel like hanging out with people today. do you have some deep longstanding issues with someone that is hard to handle? Say hi to them now. You could run into a block or wall or an authority figure that stops you. Frustration is a natural response. Some self-examination is to be expected today.

 That is so accurate that it's a little too weird. There was another one that was crazily exact from Washington Post, but I shall not post it at this time. Too personal. Sorry to disappoint.

And there you have it, folks. I think it fits me to a T. Interesting how coincidental these types of things are, isn't it?

What are YOUR thoughts? Do you agree?

Manifesto Ultimatum: part I

Welp. I have officially reached a new level of cliche. I am about to embark upon an adventure that, by the title, you may think sounds something along the lines of the Communist Manifesto. Right? Wrong. This kid and I have been complaining for awhile now about the lack of blogging being done. So, as an incentive, he came up with a thirty day blogging challenge. Ka-boom, Fifi. Never fear, it involves what has to be some of the most interesting randoms about me and my life. So buckle up, cupcake, and hopefully you'll enjoy reading as much as I did writing. And also, feel free to join in!

Challenge number one: 

Post a headshot and a profile of your face. Tell about your face and some basic facts about you.

Headshot. I have a mole under my left eye. As if you hadn't noticed before. I have had it all my life. When I was younger, I despised it. My mother tried to convince me it was a "beauty mark" and said one of my ancestors kissed me there when I was in Heaven before I was born. Well, it convinced me so hard that now I believe it is who I am. It defines me. And having to part with it would be heartbreaking. Luckily, it will never be cancerous (knock on wood and glass and plastic and every other solid material), so the mole will be staying.
Other randoms about my face: I have really neat eyes. They are blue with a gold ring around the pupil, and they look the most accentuated when I wear purple. Which happens to be my favorite color. I tan like an Native American in the summer but turn whiter than white in the winter. I close one eye more than the other when I smile, so now I'll be self-conscious about it because everyone knows. I have a lips and teeth fetish. my lips must always be soft. No crusty crusts allowed. Don't even get me started on teeth. Perhaps another day.

Hmm. Profile did not sound appealing, so instead I am posting one of the senior pictures. It's semi-profile. Sort of. More facts about me:

I am a dancer. If you couldn't tell from the picture. A true ballerina. But I do all kinds of dancing, not just ballet. I have a wonky back that allows me to complete the best layouts of the world (not the type you automatically think of. It's a dance move, not a tumbling pass. Sorry to disappoint.) and serves as my claim to fame. I love being flexible. And a dancer. I don't understand what life is like for the non-dancers because dancing and being bendy are honestly the best feelings.

I have a really hard time watching convulsing and twitching of any sort. It makes me feel physically sick and I can't breathe. And it may or may not be one of my greatest fears. Just don't even go there.

My go-to movie is Princess Diaries 2: The Royal Engagement. I wish my life was that of Mia Thermopolis. She and Emma Watson are my idols. The classiest ladies.

I don't share cups or eating utensils or bites of food. Don't call me a germaphobe, because this case is different. It's simply that I think it's plain disgusting.

My favorite juice is white grape or cranberry-grape. I don't like carbonation. I'm allergic to wheat and yeast. I am a closet wedding planner wannabe, and I collect bridal guide magazines. I'm a HUGE Mirfanda, I love the Jo Bros, and I can quote She's The Man like you would not believe.

And there you have it, my schons. 

Peace and Blessings for day one.

P.s. Want more facts about me? Go to this page

Which one are you?

There are many personalities and characteristics in a group. First, the leader of the group, then the comedian of the group, the sidekick of the group, the group member who is just simply there and no one knows why or how they got there, the group's inseparable twins, the group member who is never there and everyone wonders where they are, the life of the party (as distinguished from the leader and the comedian), the latecomer, the group member who is always asking questions, the blonde, the wild one, the wild one wannabe, the kid who thinks he's hilarious but only ever gets pity laughs, the one who will always be single, the cocky one, the hopeless romantic, the one who is never single and everyone wonders what their secret is, the Gossip Gabby, The Patronizing Patricia, the rumor spreader, the fiendy one, the crier, the complimenter, the complimented, the criticizer, the apologizer, the antsy one, the Feistasaurus Rex, the one who is always being talked about, the one who is never talked about, the one who always gives and never expects anything in return, the one people tend to gravitate to because they are genuinely good, the moocher, the story teller, the movie quoter. There's the one-up-er, the stubborn one, the cliché one, the Awkward Adam, the Eloquent Emma and the Smart-aleck Steven, the excluder, the vague blogger and the cryptic tweeter, the desperate kid and the hipster. And finally, the group hopper.

Every member of a group falls under one or more of these categories. But there is one thing that every single one of them have in common:

They need each other.

They can't make it through their lives without at least one appearance from each category. The roles people play in each group may vary, they may not. But The Cliché One needs to learn from The Hipster. The Crier and The Sensitive Ones have something to attain from The Giver and The Criticizer.

When each member of the group leaves a mark on your heart {resembling less of a stain and more of a handprint type mark}, whether it be to build you up, to tear you down, to push you around a bit, or to pull at your heartstrings, you become who you are today. But who you are today is not who you will be tomorrow. When a group dissolves, another will take it's place. But the handprints of each person will remain imprinted on that heart forever.

A heart that has been well used, well rested, well bruised, and well tested and very much loved, is a life well-lived.

Quintessential King Henry.

The lovely invite. Her introduction, "This is Liza Lou... Uh, ahem. Eliza." Her laugh. The ability it has to lift my spirits. Yummy grilled meat and carnivorous college kids. The juicy my-life-up-to-date stories. The intriguing male who speaks French and helps us make sense of ballet words. Relationship advice given by a naïve. "Boys are stupid; throw rocks at them." Close to death. Korea? Ope, Taiwan.

"Booth, question mark?"
"THAT?"

"Steven Dessert just went on break." Thanks.... Small and awkward talk with security. There he is in his Disney Prince valor. Nice to meet you. Movie spoilers. He loves her laugh too. Do all men look that attractive in uniform? What the rolled up pant legs? He's like a dream. But he's white. The real issue. {I promise I'm not racist, you just don't understand.} holding back the giggles until the safety of her soundproof car. He's a hugger. "I don't see why not; I think I can" is too noncommittal. We can't get our hopes up.

A toolbox filled with many shirtless tools. The inside of The Beast was an inferno, so I rolled down the window while the AC kicked in. The most unattractive "hey!" came from close by. I looked to my left with a puzzled and skeptical glance to see Quintessential King Henry himself, waving and smiling fiendishly. The eyes rolled and a thick, mocking laugh escaped my throat. "What a tool."

Permission Denied

I'm tired of waiting. Being trampled upon. Sacrificing everything for nothing. Getting tripped and shoved by malicious smiles, only to be flattered and reassured by their deceiving eyes. I'm sick of seeing myself as insignificant, the extra, the spare. I'm tired. I'm restless. I'm ready for a fresh start. I'm ready to fly freely with no limitations (because not being good enough has sure limited this flight.) I'm nothing that I'm not. It's as simple as inhale, exhale.

"I will refuse to dance to the pressure to be or to do or to prove something in order to win someone's love or acceptance. I am not a slave to the opinions of others."

"it sounds like someone else's summer."

The bun, the barre, the ballerina.

It feels the same, yet everything is different.
My body is definitely different (much to my chagrin).
It seeps back into my joints, almost like riding a bicycle. But more graceful. It's that muscle memory they once told me about.

A single drop of sweat expresses more than any words, thoughts, or actions could:
I love this life. This IS my life.

Untitled.

Words. Words need to spill out. The feeling of forcing words upon paper is indescribable. No purpose, no inspiration, just the craving of letters to be spelled and thought and written. The things I want to write won't formulate into effective phrases; they merely mush together and refuse to be.

So how does one "overcome" such an unpleasant state? Should I type nonsense until something creative an useful comes of it? Or should I wait until the dullness passes? Will it ever pass? I guess I'll try the first, and if that doesn't work, I'll go with the second option. Here goes nothing.

What does that even mean? Obviously when people use the phrase, the thing they are going to attempt is not nothing. In fact, often it should be said, "here goes everything." but, I guess, it could be viewed as sarcastic.

I don't know what to feel. To not know what to feel is to watch neighborhoods and trees and nearby buildings combust spontaneously through blurred eyes. It is to hear screaming and sobs of terror, but not know what is going on. To watch outlines of figures running for their lives, while these feet remain in one place. It is to realize the one sobbing is me, and through the teary eyes I can't see anything clearly. I'm unable to communicate and soon become invisible to the people I care most deeply about. That is how it is to not know how to feel.

It frightens me. It intrigues me. It disturbs me.

"what's the difference if it all could have been true?"

Life Lessons with Lize: Part IV

The family.

These people. These are the people I have unconditionally loved for just over eighteen years. These are the ones who know almost every single thing there is to know about Eliza Summerhays. They have seen me cross my entire spectrum of emotions. They laugh at my witty comments. They laugh when I laugh at their laughs (Josh.) They love my facial expressions and my animation when I tell stories. They tease me because I'm the youngest. They hug me when I need one. They look after me no matter what. They are always assuring me that my health concerns are not a burden, even when I know they are disappointed we can't eat what they want a lot of times. Sorry. They love me for a lot more reasons, but the better part is why I love them.

I love that each personality is completely defined in this photograph.

Eight siblings. Two parents. Count 'em. I actually love having nine kids in the family. Even though there are soooo many people, there's variety. Each person is completely different. (and I realize I'm not the shortest girl. or the second or the third shortest, for that matter. Don't say a word. It's a touchy subject.)

I love that this is real life. We are a mob. A clan. We tried to go to the aquarium all together, and.... we took up the majority of the glass in front of the otter cage.

"Who run the world?"

I love how this is constantly occurring. But within the closed walls of our home, it's a lot louder.

I love each of these tender-hearted children sitting with my parents. {Two more baby girls are coming in October!} As a whole, they may get a bit overwhelming, but individually they have all found a way to capture my heart.

The whole bunch. This is pretty much the ONLY picture that is good of every single human. And trust me. I mean every human. You'd be surprised at how hard family pictures were for this family. So much talking and screaming kids and yelling and laughing.

This is my family. I love everything about them. They complete my life. They are my biggest fan club. It never gets old with these people. Sure we're dramatic and sure we have our feuds {aka we're human}, but have you ever seen such a good looking bunch?


The kids: Josh, Marianne, Patrick, Alyson, Meghan, Caleb, Shannon, Robert, me.

The in-laws: Lisa, Austin, Tawna, Jonathon.

The grandkids: Mallory & William, Jenna & baby girl, Christian & Channing & Anna & Skyler, Claire & Abby & baby girl.

"The only time we waste is the time we spend thinking we're alone."

The letter with no address

I write unsendable letters. They help contain the deepest thoughts that are screaming to spill through my soft, gentle lips. They provide force enough to swallow any urge of sharing my secret emotions. These letters don't have to be perfectly articulated or even make one sip of sense, for that matter, because those letters aren't for you or you or anyone else to read or reflect upon. They are for me. It's therapeutic, you see. And in the case that perhaps I would consider sending the letter, it saves me from the embarrassment of feeling like an idiot when you don't respond. 

ouch.

Yes, chances are there is at least one written about you. And readers who may think, "she doesn't even know me," or "she wouldn't have anything to say to or about me." You are wrong.

If you find yourself interested, intrigued, or curious, good luck finding any of them. They happen to be inconspicuously placed throughout many of my belongings: notebooks, journals, binders, jean pockets, trashcans, books, landfills, sticky notes, clothing drawers, etc.

They keep me from getting too close to the edge of my sanity.

What keeps you from going absolutely insane when it comes to dealing with other people?

Participation time, people. And... action.

"I'm just trying to be honest with myself, with you, with the world."

 

And I always will.

Blog purge... GO!

This week has been THAT kind. You know, the surreal, numb, go-with-the-flow, "time for change" type? So many funs and awkwards and emotions and confusions.

So many thousands of thoughts. And to think less than one fourth of my thoughts ever end up being successfully communicated with the world around me.

To channel my brainwaves as of late, please turn your attention to the Jonai playlist. If you do not have one, then who even are you?

Here's one of the faves (it's not the entire song, but please enjoy. And try to determine the deeper meaning of each lyric because it all applies directly to this week of mine.)



I am so pleased about the rain on Thursday. Favorite precipitation, if I do say so myself. Always has been. I just love the gray clouds and how refreshing the smell is. The air is so thin and clear. (Awkward side note: Only a person with allergies would feel a sense of  relation to the latter comment. Can't you just tell when the air is super thick with allergens? end side note.)

This post is so forced. My brain is mush.

"I wish you would just do as I say."
As you wish.