The Ballad of Love and Hate

Love writes a letter and sends it to hate.
My vacations ending. I'm coming home late.
The weather was fine and the ocean was great
and I can't wait to see you again.

Hate reads the letter and throws it away.
"No one here cares if you go or you stay.
I barely even noticed that you were away.
I'll see you or I won't, whatever."

Love sings a song as she sails through the sky.
The water looks bluer through her pretty eyes.
And everyone knows it whenever she flies,
and also when she comes down.

Hate keeps his head up and walks through the street.
Every stranger and drifter he greets.
And shakes hands with every loner he meets
with a serious look on his face.

Love arrives safely with suitcase in tow.
Carrying with her the good things we know.
A reason to live and a reason to grow.
To trust. To hope. To care.

Hate sits alone on the hood of his car.
Without much regard to the moon or the stars.
Lazily killing the last of a jar
of the strongest stuff you can drink.

Love takes a taxi, a young man drives.
As soon as he sees her, hope fills his eyes.
But tears follow after, at the end of the ride,
cause he might never see her again.

Hate gets home lucky to still be alive.
He screams o'er the sidewalk and into the drive.
The clock in the kitchen says 2:55,
And the clock in the kitchen is slow.

Love has been waiting, patient and kind.

Just wanting a phone call or some kind of sign,

That the one that she cares for, who's out of his mind,
Will make it back safe to her arms.

Hate stumbles forward and leans in the door.
Weary head hung, eyes to the floor.
He says "Love, I'm sorry", and she says, "What for?
I'm your and that's it, Whatever.
I should not have been gone for so long.
I'm your's and that's it, forever."

You're mine and that's it, forever.

What perfect harmony, don't you agree? I love the Avett Brothers, go look them up and I promise, you will not regret it.

Lyrics courtesy of Cowboylyrics.com

The craziness is rendering me incapable of doing anything un-school related, hence this break in posting, and believe me, it is not for lack of ideas, merely lack of my precious time.

Until the next unknown five minute breather,
Lauren

PS ~ I'm going to BGSU! :D I love it there, I can't wait until next year.

Life can be so beautiful.

Some of my Frantic Antics

Can anyone tell me who came up with the seven day schedule? Because I plan to find them and/or all their descendants and kick their ignorant, simpleminded butts for causing me this unbearable stress! If only he (because only a man could do this) had the foresight to add an extra day or two, then I wouldn't be having this crisis called "not-enough-time-to-study-for-all-of-my-tests-turn-in-my-college-applications-not-neglect-everyone-in-my-life-and-still-have-time-to-prevent-myself-going-insane"!!
He is responsible for taking at least ten years off my life.

I will find him and I will sue him for all he's worth.

And after I have accomplished this, I will petition for an eight to nine day week in which one day is devoted entirely to yourself to prevent insanity.

Lauren

PS~ I shouldn't even be typing this, I just wasted five minutes of my limited study time. Blast the guy who created the 7 day week! Blast him to HECK!!!

Human Limits

My dad is a real big National Geographic junkie, and because of his bias influence, he has also gotten me slightly hooked. Today the new addtion came called "The Tallest Trees: Redwoods" and I was flipping through and saw this page titled "Human Limits" and was amazed by the
informantion:



Body Heat: When core body temp. hits 107.6%, heatstroke can't be reversed and will prove fatal.

**OUR LIMIT: 107.6%**

Cold Water: Water saps body heat. You'd last barely 30 minutes in a 40 degrees F sea. Life vests buoy you up to slow eat lose.


**OUR LIMIT: 40 DEGREES**


Hot Air: in a burning building of deep mine adults can take 10 mins. at 300degrees F. Kids soon succumb in a 120 degree F car.

High Altitude: Consciousness fades for most. With bigging lungs and more red blood cells, highland dwellers are OK.
**OUR LIMIT: 15,000feet**

Diving Deep: Without equipment, most folks black out before 2 mins, and below 60 feet. The best free diver made it to 282 ft.
**OUR LIMIT: 282 ft**

Lack of oxygen: Typically, you'd pass out within 2 mins. With training, people can hold their breath nearly 11 mins!
**OUR LIMIT: 11mins**

Blood Loss: You can survive after spilling 30 percent. At 40%, you'd need an immidiate transfusion.
**OUR LIMIT: 40%**

Starvation: Lose 30% of body weight and death is imminent, thought disease will likely kill you before you starve.
**OUR LIMIT: 45 days**

Dehydration: Every cell needs water. Replace the quart or so you lose daily, or you won't last much more than a week.
**OUR LIMIT: 7 days**

Isn't that crazy? I think it is. Humans are amazing.

Just wanted to share this with you guys,
Lauren
ps~ I'M SEVENTEEN IN 18 HOURS!! but I'm going to be gone tomorrow for a school fieldtrip.

Small Town Charm

I just wrote my college essay for MSU and decided to share it with you.
Here you gooooo.....

Now, picture this: You’re flying above south-eastern Michigan. As you float leisurely along, something catches your eye; it’s a rambunctious marching band, drumming, and tooting their way through a small downtown. Behind this procession of teenage musicians, you see a pageant of children, adults, and some older folks, all of who seem to have been transported through time from the Victorian age. A hundred people donned in knickers, suspenders, bonnets, extravagant gowns with intricate stitching, and elegant gloves up to their elbows, all smiling and flinging candy into the crowd of people up and down Main Street, but it doesn’t stop there. Men in vintage baseball uniforms strut down the road calling to the girls on the sidelines, while ladies in frilly dresses twirl their lacy umbrellas through the air, filling people’s noses with heavy floral scents. Next, a parade of circling unicycles and bicycles with wheels as tall as a man, honking their horns and smiling to the crowd who cheer with reckless abandon, whizzes down the street. Finally, a horse drawn carriage turns on to Main Street; it’s the moment everyone has been waiting for: as the carriage moves closer, the mayor’s head pops out. He grins and waves to the people on the street who whoop and yell and wave right back at him, the mayor of our little town, Northville.
Now, rewind to the beginning of the parade and focus down on one local girl with uncontrollably curly hair and a leather jacket. She’s standing across from the library, in front of a family friend’s house in the same position she’s been in every year for the Victorian Festival since she was two; on her tip toes, leaning around other people on the street, eager to see the start of the parade. As the first members of the marching band turn the corner, her heart starts beating furiously with joy and pride for her small town. It’s the same every year; this wacky, small town celebration of her city’s heritage fuels her dedication and sense of community making her fall more in love with Northville with each passing townsperson. Every chance she gets, she gives back to Northville what she gets from it; an air tight sense of community and loving support. It has taught her how important dedication and support is to any successful relationship, whether it is between two people, or an entire town and one girl. And because of this, she brings her support and dedication to everything she takes part in.
You’re probably wondering who this girl with passionate dedication and stubborn support is, and I’m here to tell you: she’s me, Lauren O’Brien.

hope you liked it.
Lauren

The Questionable Case of a Might-be-Bipolar

I'm on a high right now; it's a natural high, I assure you. My body is humming with joy and my eyes are tearing up with happy tears. I want to scream at the top of my lungs that I love the world. The problem is, twenty minutes ago, I was crying sad, sad tears and thinking really sad thoughts. And earlier this morning, I couldn't stop smiling. It started to freak some people out. They'd look over at me and see me grinning and they'd ask why I was so happy, and then, five minutes later, I would be looking off into space, holding back tears and they wouldn't know what to say.

What's up with me?

I don't have an answer for you. Nothing particularly amazing or ghastly happened today. I learned some french and pre-calc and got some homework. Ate a satisfactory lunch, talked with some friends, nothing to complain about. But still, I can't control this roller coaster of emotions.

I got my monthly visitor two weeks ago, so it can't that. And I'm not pregnant, unless I've become the next Virgin Mary... And I'm definitely not into all those nasty energy drinks, so I'm not getting buzzed on those either. What else causes such extreme mood swings? I don't know, but if it doesn't stop soon, I'll have enough personal inspiration to write my very own story, "The Questionable Case of a Might-be-Bipolar".


The Might-be,
Lauren

PS ~ Now I'm sad, so very sad. And tired.

Sty in my eye

Sty, sty, go away. Don't come back another day!



I don't know if any of you have ever experienced the ugly, uncomfortableness of having a sty, but let me assure you, IT SUCKS!

Yesterday, my eye started itching and when I went to see what was wrong with it I was greeted by one HUGE sty on the top of my eye, all the way across the lid. It is so gross because even though I get them occasionally, I never get them on top of my eye, only below. But don't fret because not long after discovering that beauty, that hurt like hell by the way, the bottom of my eye started to hurt, and low and behold, I had ANOTHER big sty underneath my eye.

So now my eye is almost swollen all the way shut and itches and hurts.

I have been just lying down and pressing hot compress after hot compress onto them to stop the swelling. It better go away soon because school is four days away and I look like I got two huge unattractive bug bites that made me have an allergic reaction, it's not pretty. I can't wear makeup or make myself look good for the first day of school because of these two ugly bumps. I like to think of myself as not terribly vain, but come on, who wants to look gross on their first day of school? answer: NO ONE

So, I'm off to nurse my wounds and finish my AP English homework (boo for procrastination).
And my family is going up north to my grandparents cottage today for labor day weekend.

<3
Lauren

PS ~ One is the loneliest number! (god, I love that song)