"It should have been me."

If I could take it all away from you, I would. If I could take your place, I would. I’m so sorry.

People keep telling me I shouldn’t be sorry. But what else can I be? Being sorry is born of having sorrow, isn’t it? What else could I be feeling, knowing what you’re going through? I’m so sorry—Sorry that I can’t take it all away, and make nothing hurt, and stop all the crying and the sleepless nights and the sick feeling that makes it impossible to eat. It hurts when I stop thinking, because then I remember that i’m breathing, and you can’t do that on your own.

All my life I’ve taken breathing for granted. I’m so sorry.

I can barely look at you, and I’m so ashamed for it. You’re beautiful though, I hope you know that.

I’ve been asking for you. I’ve been asking for you to stay. I don’t want you to go. Please, please don’t leave.

I love you, my little one. Thank you for changing my life.

-Auntie Kenzie

"One hand in the air for the big city"

I have this soft, blue and red, plaid, flannel, button-down (can I use any more adjectives?) shirt that I really love. I got it at Hollister a few weeks ago. It’s a large plaid pattern, the kind that makes me think of keeping warm by a fire, in a log cabin as it snows outside, having a conversation with someone special (that you may or may not be cuddling up to?)

I really want to wear that shirt But I’m afraid the magic of it will be taken away if I wear it in July. Plus it’s just too too.

—-

I finished my internship on Friday. Dad was at Scout Camp with my bros so I commuted in on the T (the subway, for those not familiar with East coast public transportation). I actually like taking the T places, I’m such a “settings” person. The noise, the smell, even the crowdedness, it all adds to this “under the city” setting, and as I experience it all, my choice of music on my ipod shifts to R&B beats, and I wish I were in jeans and a hoodie instead of my work khakis and cardigan.

I think this is why I don’t necessarily have a “style” when it comes things like clothes. I just wear whatever fits my setting. It’s not that I want to blend in, per se, it’s that I need to experience the whole moment. There are people that live in that setting for most of their lives. I want to know what it feels like to be a part of that place, in that time. I need to understand it.

—-

In other news, I need help! My skin has been pleasantly clear all through living in Utah and coming back home—up until two weeks ago. Suddenly I’ve broken out and can’t seem to figure out how to clear it up again.

Any good recs for skin care products?

The word "boyfriend" is taboo in my family...

Kenzie: She asked me if I had any beaus.
Kaitlin: Beaus?
Kenzie: Yeah. Like, suitors?
Kaitlin: ...?
Kenzie: Men of interest?
Kaitlin: ... Gentlemen friends?

All your life. . . You were only waiting for this moment to arise

I used to have lots of dreams for myself. I sometimes think about those dreams, wishing I could have made them happen. My dream, really the only one I’ve ever had in regards to a career or something of that sort is was to be on the stage or the screen. But I guess neither of those places are where I was supposed to be.

In the live-action version of Peter Pan, I remember when Mrs. Darling was talking to her children, telling them that Mr. Darling was so brave because as he grew up, he took all his dreams and put them in a drawer, and that some nights they pull out those dreams and admire them. But every time they open the drawer, it gets harder and harder to close again. But he does it.

Yeah, that’s exactly what it feels like. From about the ages of 9—14 I used to cry my eyes out some nights because people kept telling me I was so talented and would go so far, but I never felt like I was getting anywhere at all. Years later, I’m still sitting at home, a little more educated and a lot more confident, but where I’ve gone and where I’ll go are both a little foggy.

I don't think I need to say goodbye... I never sign out of my thoughts, and that's all this is, right?

Fact: Legal pads make the best journals. (I don't believe in putting a cover on my thoughts.)

This summer I have a temporary internship in the Financial Services dept. of Pegasystems.

Read: I’m working a 9—5 office job for 3 weeks.

This means I have access to their office supplies, specifically Post-Its (in a plethora of sizes and colors), large Office Max legal pads, and the most amazing blue Paper Mate pens I’ve ever used. So. I’ve decided to use these resources.

It just works for me. I can’t blog and I can’t journal, but I can think on paper, and I guess that just has to do.

So I will be typing up my legal pad thoughts so you can pretend you and I had a lovely conversation in a coffee shop somewhere (I’ve always wanted to do that) and we’ll both leave feeling like we grew in our relationship with one another. :)

Hi neighbors :) I'm back!

So I guess my move isn't as permanent as I thought it would be. It seems I still have some lovelies that like this blog, so I'll just update my tumblr and this blog with the same posts and you can choose which one you like more. :) This one has comments, which is something I like.

So expect to see random posts at random times, but definitely more consistent ones as I'm actually getting into writing again! (But don't tell me I said that or I'll deny it.) I will say though, my tumblr will have a lot more of my spontaneous thoughts, and this one will have the more structured posts. So pick and choose how you will, I'm a fan of options. :)

Love, love, love,
Kenzie

Moving day!

Alrighty. Time to pick up the old posts and move out!

To be honest, I'm just not getting the hang of this blogger thing. Monoblogging has never been my strong suit. So, I'll be posting from now on at kenzieliz.tumblr.com.

It's actually kind of funny... All I'm doing is blogging from one site rather than another... but I'll actually miss blogger a little—probably because it was my very first blog.

Which, come to think of it, is a very unattractive name.

Blog.

Blech.

Whoops...

I... I know. I'm sorry! I really fail at this blogging thing!

Title: Deflated

This semester I am taking the Honors Writing 150 course. Lately we have been doing some freewrites to get our creativity flowing and help us brainstorm for our personal narrative assignment we have coming up.


I've found I begrudgingly love the freewrites. They force me to actually express myself on paper, something that used to be my life's breath, but now I seldom venture into. And so today, as I wait down the hall from my German classroom (because I'm avoiding someone who is sitting right outside it... Story for another day...) I have decided to share this morning's freewrite with you.

“It doesn’t matter because you push and push me until I just shut down completely.”
..........
      Letting the smell of mom’s sugar cookies trail behind me, I took the stairs two at a time up to Kate’s bedroom. Pulling my phone out of my apron’s pocket, I stole a quick breath before my gaze rolled across the screen. I was surprised to find the disconnection with which I had faced the first two texts melting away as the phone buzzed in my hand for the fifth, sixth, seventh time, every ‘click’ as I scrolled to the next text feeling like a punch to the gut. Lines like “I can’t handle...” and “I’m done...” jumped out at me and curled around in my head.

      At the eighth text the words suddenly blurred out of focus and I could’t quite remember how to bring them back again. My shins hit the edge of the air mattress before the first sob broke free.

Whoo! Ohh-ohoh... Ouch.

My legs are on fire! You see, I'm taking four different P.E. classes this semester- intermediate tap dance, beginning contemporary dance, polynesian dance, and flexibility. And boy am I feeling it! Standing up, sitting down, and lets not even talk about walking up stairs... Especially that wretched "stairway of death" on campus. That thing is HUGE!

Lets just say I'll be thoroughly disappointed if my legs aren't completely ripped by the end of the semester.

HELLO My name is...

I enjoy when cute boys randomly ask if they can sit at my lunch table with me...

Eric is a junior from Las Vegas, majoring in business with an emphasis in entrepreneurship. He loves Boston, although he's only visited for three hours, while on a church historical site tour.  He loves the trees though, and has always wanted to go to Boston in the fall. We have quite a bit in common too! We were both born in Utah, both lived our early childhood years in California, and both love the beach. Eric has blond hair, stunning blue eyes, and a cute, easy smile (with a little dimple!) He looks good in red and likes to spike his hair with gel. He ate Taco Bell and had never tried the green sauce. I hadn't either, so we tried it together. It wasn't that bad, but we both decided that the red sauce is better.

It's amazing what you can learn in twenty minutes!

Six Days In

Can you feel that? I can feel it... Only six days in and I can feel it. Usually it will take me the first few months to get to this point, but already I can pick one word to predict what this year will hold.

Challenge.

Now, challenge isn't necessarily a bad thing. It can catch you off guard, and can test you beyond your normal limits, but it is usually for the best. Valiance is the key. I just hope I have enough of it.