tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75895746956483528852024-03-13T11:30:54.154-07:00Chronicles of a Crazy Person Who Thinks Too MuchThe title is pretty self-explanatory.Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.comBlogger60125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-48509307490882537802014-05-04T19:06:00.001-07:002015-01-05T13:42:30.579-08:00This Too, Shall PassThere's no way to distinguish when that day will come, but it will. You will wake up one morning at peace and what once made you feel like you were stuck in an empty vast abyss disappears. It will no longer feel like you are stuck in an endless labyrinth with no sense of direction. You will notice the beauty that is everywhere that you never knew was there. It was there all along. The sun is brighter and the moon and stars more vivid than ever.<br />
You will decide that this is the day you choose to celebrate, because it no longer serves you to stay in mourning. Somewhere between then and now, you've filled that empty void with rediscovered bits and pieces of yourself, or even pieces you never knew you had. The ache in your chest that used to bring you to your knees will be transformed into gratitude. You will be grateful for this rebirth because you no longer feel dead anymore.<br />
Out of pain comes renewal and peace. There is so much to see in the world, so much beauty. You only have to open your eyes to it, even when your heartache has you on the ground and it hurts too badly. You can choose only to see the clouds covering the sky, or you can acknowledge that the sun is still shining behind the gray. Just because you cannot see it doesn't mean that it's not still there. It will be visible.Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-10864592390673278082013-05-14T18:05:00.002-07:002013-05-14T18:15:58.358-07:00On Self-Acceptance"No amount of self-improvement can make up for any lack of self-acceptance." - Robert Holden<br />
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Some of you will look at this quote and nod approvingly, some of you will scoff or roll your eyes. Some of you might even argue with me on it about how getting comfortable with ourselves means we stop growing. That's fine and dandy. However, there's a huge problem here. In our modern-day society there's this growing mindset that we should always want more, that more is better. More will equal improvement. More stuff, more people, more achievements, more experiences. We fall into this belief that we're not good enough and must constantly do more or get more to improve ourselves, never once considering what we have and what we need most. We get this huge void within ourselves that we continue to try to fill with material possessions, unsuitable relationships, more hours at work, extra time at the gym, even self-help books and we wonder why we keep failing at happiness.<br />
If you asked me a year ago what I thought of myself, I would have given you a long list of shortcomings and flaws and things in general that need to be fixed physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and the list goes on. At the start of the new year I unexpectedly ended up in the midst of a huge shift emotionally and mentally, leaving me in a panic and finally alone with my biggest fears and insecurities, these demons that have roamed around my mind since my overachieving high school years and possibly even before then. My first reaction was to fill the emptiness with more activities. I was going to volunteer a ton of hours and spend my time helping and serving others, because who was I to be upset when other people have nothing? I was going to work out more and get myself into even better shape because I wanted to be more muscular and less soft. I was going to stop getting B's and C's and start getting straight A's. I was going to find a job or internship so I could get a job after I graduate and not let myself become another statistic. I filled my time with more things with self-improvement in mind. Since then my life has improved. I now have a good internship and a job, learned to belly dance, I will have my first IMDB credit for a feature film and another short film coming up, and I logged in 37 hours of community service and made some good friends in the process. Unfortunately, I still don't have six-pack abs or rippling biceps, my grades are still B's and C's (I took five 3000- and 4000-level courses, two of which were math-based, give me a break!) and I don't think I'll ever stop having a desire to keep improving.<br />
I know you were reading this and expecting some sort of miraculous epiphany that ended with me throwing my hands up and shouting "I don't need this! I'm great just as I am!" but all you got was this somewhat anticlimactic overview of my semester. Hear me out. The real point I'm making here is that I know much more about myself and what I need to do to get where I want. I learned more about who I am, what I like, and what I want to do through being alone with myself and trying to fulfill this infinite desire to improve. I've discovered so many positive things about myself I never knew existed, and it allowed me to have a different view of Lexi. I am happy to report that I am much more awesome than I've ever given myself credit for and I quite like me. No, I'm not perfect and will never be, nor do I have the desire to be. But I guess I've grown more comfortable with this imperfect self by seeing it from a different angle.<br />
I now understand that trying to improve all the time and unsuccessfully filling such a void is the very action we need to find self-acceptance. We find the solution when we become aware of our lack of acceptance and stop for a moment and see that what we thought was defective in us was working all along. Sometimes it takes a broken heart and too much alone time to rewrite our relationships with ourselves. All we needed was to take a step back and see on our own what we already have to understand that we didn't need to change or improve much more than our perspectives.Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-24065380618178848832013-02-01T09:23:00.000-08:002013-02-01T10:02:53.876-08:00Uprooted plant life and sugar-saturated caffeinated fat blocks. You shouldn't have.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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With January making its exit stage right and February entering left, we are all anticipating a certain day taking center: Valentine's Day. The one day a year that, next to Christmas and all other major holidays, has been so crassly commercialized that everyone in the mainstream world has grown to loathe for different reasons.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKyIIg7K6O9hICbuRSSq8v1CordPMJ8HWZeSjqm_2_AdmTg_l57HcrmXL4rBH99c_wIb0exsTl4fRv-nCdVdLkdwM9GmekoDRV6COrc-L85Use2fl5d_3fP61ETv6EB9qGxYkgK9sCUN8/s1600/kids-writes-threatening-v-day-card.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a> I remember the days in elementary school when everyone in my class would decorate Valentine's Day shoeboxes with little slits cut in the top so people could put in valentines and an assortment of candy. It was fun and cute and we had to make a valentine for everyone in the class so nobody was left out. Those were the days. Since then I've become one of those people in the mainstream world who has grown to loathe Valentine's Day. In fact, I think it's been that way since middle school when an ex-crush of mine gave all the other girls candy one year and purposely didn't give me any because I dumped him right before Christmas break that year (of which he terrorized me until 8th grade graduation that year). The following two years after that I was either sick or just had nothing to do that day. Then the next year I made plans with a guy friend of mine and he blew me off to hang out with another girl (who ended up being a psycho). The year after that I made the effort to at least buy valentines for my family and then-boyfriend. Then I was newly single the next year, and then I had a guy to celebrate with for three years, and now I'm single again (this is my first time publicly admitting it). Through the ups and downs and having someone to celebrate with and then not have someone to celebrate with, I'm pretty sure my hatred for Valentine's Day has remained constant. Or maybe just went dormant for the last three years and then came back with a passion the other day when I saw Valentine's Day crap all over the shelves at Winn-Dixie and had to fight the urge to suffocate myself with a teddy bear. I don't know. All I know is that I hate it and think it's the stupidest holiday ever. But at least this time I have good logical reasons for hating it.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Couldn't have said it better, honestly.</td></tr>
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First reason why I can't stand Valentine's Day is because people treat it like it's the only day of the year to go all-out balls to the wall celebrating your love for someone. One person (usually the girl) has all these crazy expectations about how romantic the whole day/night should be and wants the moon given to them in a silver Tiffany's box, and ends up getting mad at the other person (usually the guy) when all they get is a dozen roses and a box of chocolate. First of all, shouldn't you be celebrating your love for that person more often than Valentine's Day? Like every day maybe? Second of all, if your romantic expectations aren't like this any other day, why are they so high on this particular day? It's ironic to me because on any ordinary day of the year it's completely the most romantic wonderful thing when your SO does something thoughtful for you, yet for some reason those same little gestures are just not as good because this overrated, ordinary-day-turned-holiday caused your expectations to skyrocket. It's like you purposely set yourselves up for disappointment.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I love you so much I hope you never die."</td></tr>
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See, it never used to be like this. Valentine's Day used to be a pagan celebration of fertility, then became dedicated to a saint when pagans began converting to Christianity as a means to make the celebration less sacrilegious. Or some long story along those lines. Then somewhere in the 19th century it turned into a thing for kids where they glued some macaroni to a paper heart and gave it to their parents and called it a valentine. And then they ate chocolate. Then advertisers got a hold of it and commercialized it to this ridiculous degree that now if a guy doesn't plan a huge romantic night and buy his woman some overpriced jewelry or some other crap, then he's in the doghouse. Which brings me to my next question. Why does nobody ever get angry at the women for not making an effort on Valentine's Day?? This type of nonsense should go both ways, ladies!<br />
The next thing I can't stand about Valentine's Day is that it is <i>the</i> holiday dedicated to couples. See, what gets me is that any holiday that becomes Big Business's Commercialized Universal Couple Day for every single couple in the world is automatically less special. There's no spontaneity at all to that. You know what's even better than Valentine's Day? Your anniversary. Why? Because it's <i>your</i> special day to celebrate being together and not everyone else's also. Plus, you don't have to make reservations months in advance and fight crowds and deal with the price of chocolate skyrocketing (seriously, that's the worst thing ever). Think about that one.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This cake loves me enough to stay with me forever...<br />
right on my thighs.</td></tr>
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Don't get me wrong, I love a holiday that gives me an excuse to eat candy and buy myself another teddy bear to add to my superfluous collection, but please enlighten me on what the big deal is? Even after having the last three Valentine's Days of my life be amazing days full of memories, I still hate it. I guess you could call me cynical, or maybe slightly embittered that I no longer have someone to plan an awesome date for anymore. I'll admit to the latter. Either way, I won't be buying into any of it. Past this blog post, I'm not even going to whine about being alone on Valentine's Day. Instead I'm going to take this year's Valentine's Day with a grain of salt and do something nice for myself. I'm going to call my family and wish them a happy Valentine's Day and tell them I love them, and then spoil myself rotten. I'm keeping away from Facebook that day with the exception of a facetious "I think today is stupid" post or two because I don't care to expose myself to everyone's nauseating "Happy Valentine's day, honey!" posts all day ad nauseam. I feel it's toxic to my emotional well-being this early in the game. As far as Valentine's Day is concerned, it will just be another ordinary day to eat chocolate.Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-17872173364411838872013-01-04T19:38:00.004-08:002013-01-04T20:41:42.607-08:00Metamorphosis"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."<br />
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- Anais Nin</div>
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One of my favorite quotes. I feel like Anais Nin was talking to me when I read this... even though she died in 1977, this was published sometime long before that, and I wasn't born until 1989, so in a weird talking-to-me-from-the-dead-but-not-really-way. Since November 2010, my entire life has been this quote, starting with the day I got my acceptance letter from Florida State. Since then, I've moved a lot from Tallahassee to home several times, got a job, built my acting resume, changed my major, met and worked with some amazing people, loved with all my heart and lost part of it. In the summer I'm going to graduate and then things will change even more. I was excited for it, but fear and apprehension have come into the mix. My world had been turned upside down when an unexpected situation ending 2012 left me with a terrible start to the new year (pardon the vagueness, but I'm choosing not to go into detail out of respect and discretion).</div>
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My biggest goal this year is to take this painful situation and use it as a lesson for self-improvement. This is a new time for me to heal and grow from it. Truth be told, I'm really not the woman I'd like to be right now. Before I go on, please understand that I am not at all trying to make anyone overlook my good and redeeming qualities, but rather understand where I need work. That said: I'm insecure, indecisive, and a perfectionist. I talk myself down too much, and I hold back out of fear. Worst of them all, I talk negatively about myself to people and sometimes take my insecurities out on others. It's pretty bad and embarrassing to admit to, on a public blog, no less. It has caused many a headache and has resulted in heartache that probably could have been avoided had I fixed them sooner. It is incredibly painful.</div>
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One of the reasons why we hurt is because it is a sign that something has to change. In the midst of all the anxiety and tears, we have to take a step back and realize what is wrong. Sometimes it's our own issues, undue fear or worry, or simply bad timing. Instead of dwelling on what might have been, we must focus on what can be and how we can get there. I was repeating unhealthy and unbecoming patterns of behavior that had become habit from past situations and it was carrying over to my present. It was smothering me and the people around me. I'm incredibly sad and disappointed that things have to happen as they are, but I need to learn to let go first before anything can continue or happen. Maybe I need to hurt for a little while before I can experience joy again. Only then can I let go of the worry that is not serving me well, and forget about what <i>has</i> happened. It cannot change and there is no use blaming myself or letting it affect me anymore.<br />
We can hold on to those toxic things and stay inside that shell, but in the end it's only hurting us more than just letting go and being free. Only then can we feel hopeful and find out what's waiting for us.</div>
Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-5500299781042595342012-12-30T15:12:00.003-08:002012-12-30T15:12:36.156-08:00Since we're on the subject of New Year's... ...I'm gonna make another blog list. Because that's apparently the only way I can organize my thoughts. I just make lists. Every post.<br />
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This is one of those cliche New Year's Resolution lists where I list all umpteen of the things I plan on doing, maybe two or three of which will actually be accomplished, hence the keyword <i>cliche</i>. I really much prefer to use the term 'goals' over 'resolutions' though, as resolutions sound like permanent solutions to every life problem I'll ever have and thus completely unattainable.<br />
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Here goes.<br />
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Disclaimer: The italicized ones are top priority.<br />
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Now, then.<br />
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1. <i>Stop being such a damn perfectionist.</i><br />
2. Stop seeking approval from everyone.<br />
3. <i>Stop the negative self-talk.</i><br />
4. Stop worrying about the future.<br />
5. Continue to be successful with your acting.<br />
6. Allow yourself to be happy.<br />
7.<i> Stop letting fear keep you stagnant.</i><br />
8. Acquire more muscles.<br />
9. Put your demo reels together and start auditioning for agents.<br />
10. <i>Socialize more.</i><br />
11.<i> Raise that GPA, slacker!</i><br />
12. Finish the projects you've already started.<br />
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That's all she wrote. Still too long for my liking, but at least I italicized the most important, so at least those ones can be done... maybe.<br />
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Happy New Year, everyone!Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-56390153193797824242012-12-12T19:45:00.000-08:002012-12-12T20:07:22.936-08:00"12/12/12 is the last repetitive date we'll see for a long time!" I think a reflective blog post is in order because I haven't posted anything that didn't involve goofing off, overexposing my life or shameless self-promotion in months. Ok, so I know that I still have 19 days left in the year before I should be posting this blog, but who's really counting (I'm looking at all my fellow Christmas enthusiasts out there!)? I feel that given the amount of time between now and my last post, there is no better time to write this than now.<br />
The first and foremost thing I need to point out is how grateful I am for everything that's happened this year. I have no words that can express it, honestly. I came into this year worried about school and life and will leave it with peace of mind and hope. I feel like I have grown so much as a person and as an artist, and it's ridiculous how it's happening because it's all happening so fast and in such a short amount of time that I don't even notice anything until I've looked back at everything. I've met so many fabulous people along the way, taken on so many amazing projects, and learned so many things about myself, my major and my craft. I've had so many things occur that made me realize each time why I do what I do and why I can't do anything else. I've never been so developed from the past, pleased with the present, and so excited and scared for the future than this year.<br />
I don't really know how to sum up this awesome year, so instead of even attempting I'm just going to make a list of all the highlights.<br />
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1. I've built my resume up from a little baby high school/community theater experience resume to getting about 10 professional credits to my name. I've done 5 short films (two featureds, two supportings, and one principal), 3 commercials (FIT Weight Loss, Club Reduce, and Early Voting), and 2 plays (one was a regional tour!).<br />
2. I got my YouTube channel up and running (now if only I posted videos more often).<br />
3. I passed Financial Accounting. And then this semester I passed Managerial Accounting!<br />
4. I won an award in one of my student organizations.<br />
5. I met and worked with so many amazing, talented, interesting people that have changed my life and made me realize why I do what I do! I will forever hold them in my heart.<br />
6. I outgrew my hometown. This sounds bad, but it's actually good because I learned that I'm more of afraid of boredom and stagnation than I am of leaving my comfort zone.<br />
7. I successfully changed my major and got my academics back on track.<br />
8. I got my first apartment... with my own room... and my own bathroom!<br />
9. I said goodbye to an old family member, and welcomed a new one!<br />
10. I took my first vacation in two years!<br />
11. I've gotten to see a lot of my friends start the next chapters of their lives, and now I can't wait for mine.<br />
12. I've learned more about myself as an individual and I'm slowly learning to be more comfortable with it all.<br />
And finally...<br />
13. I've learned that no matter what happens, the show must go on!<br />
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Can't wait for 2013. Let's keep the creative projects, the "Aha!" moments, and the inspiration coming!<br />
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I added some pictures to describe my year. It's a little bit long...<br />
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Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-76495362455188608992012-10-06T20:00:00.002-07:002012-10-06T20:00:35.459-07:00New Youtube Video<br />
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So, completely by surprise I decided to post a new video. Luckily, it didn't take me six hours to complete this one because everything went very smoothly on the technical end. Needless to say I'm pleased with the end result this time around.</div>
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<a href="http://they%20can%27t%20take%20that%20away%20from%20me/" style="text-align: left;">They Can't Take That Away From Me</a></div>
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<object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://i.ytimg.com/vi/xrkbUVvgy_A/0.jpg"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xrkbUVvgy_A?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xrkbUVvgy_A?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-9966019930174545522012-07-16T21:42:00.000-07:002012-07-16T21:44:29.302-07:00On Unplugging and Another Reason Why I Can't Have Nice Things<span style="background-color: white;">10. I can't have nice things because I'm too preoccupied with Internetland to appreciate them (you can read the other nine reasons <a href="http://usopinup1940.blogspot.com/2012/06/why-i-cant-have-nice-things.html">here</a>). </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">I had to delete my Facebook. Whoopee.</span><br />
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This isn't the first time it's happened (obviously). My usual reason is that I realize after ten posts in one day for days in a row that I'm spending too much time on the internet instead of focusing on my studies. This is followed by an unsuccessful attempt to just not log on for a few days, which is then followed by a two-week-or-so Facebook deactivation to get myself refocused. Once I begin to stay focused and the work/goof off balance has been restored, I reactivate my Facebook. It's a vicious cycle that happens repeatedly as a means to stay productive. But this time it's over a far bigger crisis than three rigorous exams in the same week (hard to imagine a crisis larger than that, I know).<br />
I'm not going to get into details of what happened, but I'm am going to say that I sometimes think social media is ruining my life. Sometimes might be an understatement. Slowly and surely, my ability to have a personal relationship with people is deteriorating and being replaced with a 'Like' button, comments from people who barely know me that I really don't know, and random pointless hashtags. It's very unsettling to me. Have I really lost my ability to keep in touch with people while still keeping a productive daily life? It really looks that way.<br />
What's even worse is that 3/4 of my friends list consist of people I've met once or never see. I think that's mainly because I am connected to close friends and family as well as business connections. As an actor/marketing professional, it's crucial for me to keep all these connections, and what better way than to add them on Facebook? The annoying part is that as much as I want to be myself, I really can't be completely because it costs me job opportunities, and sometimes friendships. Sure, I could make another Facebook for business and keep the other one for close friends and family, but with school and work I really don't need or want the extra hassle just yet (that's what I made this blog for!).<br />
I have to admit, nothing is more freeing than deleting my Facebook, even if it's only for a short while. It's almost like some mystery has been established between my life and other people's when they don't see me in their news feed or on their friends list anymore. <span style="background-color: white;">When I'm on one of these hiatuses, the</span><span style="background-color: white;"> important people always text me and ask where I've gone. I always appreciate that because I know they're thinking of me.</span><br />
The whole thing is also dichotomous. It's freeing, but at the same time I've never felt so alone and disconnected from the world as I do right now. It hits me every time and is usually the reason why I cave and reactivate the damn thing after two weeks. I don't why this is, considering all the important people know that I'm okay and that's all that should matter. I need to be back "in touch" with all three-hundred and eighty-something people,<span style="background-color: white;"> almost like I'm using this impersonal virtual thing as a means of knowing I'm not really alone in the world. </span><span style="background-color: white;">Most of these people aren't even my friends, either. Less than one-tenth of them are going to be around for the most important events in my life, and vice versa. But I get this sense of security and validation from interacting virtually with these mostly unimportant people. It's a very false sense of security.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"> This is where social media is ruining my life. I've forgotten how to make an effort to maintain my friendships and I'm starting to miss out on actual real things and actual real people. And it's pathetic. In no way should something this impersonal be destroying the foundations of my life, my relationships with people, the people who ultimately matter the most. Once it gets to this point, I need to unplug and rethink my priorities in my personal life as I do with my schoolwork. So I will need to cope with this false loneliness for a little bit while I sort out my personal life and learn that I'm not really lonely. That's fine with me.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">On the plus side, my Twitter (@Miss_Lexi_Lee) doesn't ruin my life. Because Twitter is silly. But you should follow me anyway.</span>Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-37905097291453355472012-06-20T16:35:00.000-07:002012-06-20T19:11:33.911-07:00Dream a Little Dream of Me I finally got the guts to post a video of me singing. This is the start of a series to help me get my voice out to the public and start branding myself as a performer.<span style="background-color: white;"> </span><span style="background-color: white;">The bad news is that I'm posting it in my blog because I'm too chicken s*** to post the video directly to my Facebook page. I'm a stickler for people just coming to see me perform live rather than posting a crappy video that doesn't do my voice any justice. It's because I'm my own worst critic. I'll cry you a river sometime.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"> The quality is really terrible because I have a crappy PC and I have no idea how to manipulate the sound without getting all kinds of feedback. You'll also notice a very irritating whooshing noise coming from my laptop's vent. I guess it's time to take a can of WD-40 to that bad boy. If anyone has tips and tricks to better the sound quality of my videos, please enlighten me. Pretty please. I've spent 2 hours trying to make this video somewhat good. I've been a singer the majority of my life, but I feel like I'm only as good a singer as the quality of my videos. It's depressing me. Seriously.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span>Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-83155128202559364972012-06-07T16:53:00.004-07:002012-07-16T21:38:17.145-07:00Why I Can't Have Nice Things<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My behavior the last few days has just proven to me that I can't have nice things. NOTE: This post is only explaining why I <i>can't</i> have nice things, not that I <i>don't</i> have nice things. I have lots of nice things (that I'm surprised are still intact), but that's besides the point. I really hope that you find this as humorous as I do. I'm overdue for a blog post rife with dry, self-deprecating humor that demonstrates the farcical circumstances that make up my every day life.</div>
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<br /></div>
I like saying smart stuff.<br />
<br />
But really, I can't have nice things because...<br />
<br />
1. I knocked Santa over with my ear buds. Poor Santa.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmJPCDMATKIA9z2eZNB4XjgiU5kd-WTM0bJ9nNpJTq0cCy6ZBEeJWdelYYKb0nB52YzPIzB-vb-1PwJLcaHyHbSKyzg0XuDDyo7E1YgDWL1o81-97_tIy4WtALoaVqN5-vsFAgZs6mDRg/s1600/DSCF0301%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmJPCDMATKIA9z2eZNB4XjgiU5kd-WTM0bJ9nNpJTq0cCy6ZBEeJWdelYYKb0nB52YzPIzB-vb-1PwJLcaHyHbSKyzg0XuDDyo7E1YgDWL1o81-97_tIy4WtALoaVqN5-vsFAgZs6mDRg/s320/DSCF0301%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Please don't ask me why we have a Santa Claus candy dish year-round.</td></tr>
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2. I can't even take care of my 4 year-old EnV2. Notice the broken hinge. The speaker doesn't work because I dropped it off my bunk bed at school. The pound key doesn't work either.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFHr_Za6WA8g78RI_cTDIw6jqGVbz3lcEoi36ghbTjO24PYgjRxjrQ5Fcx0FdmBpipzaLR3CAMTclSAAjdyiW1UFl50HeMr63-z7SPFrzNqCHB0Lo2cSygcwqsbaGPgmBk3ZFr_81q9Zg/s1600/DSCF0306%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFHr_Za6WA8g78RI_cTDIw6jqGVbz3lcEoi36ghbTjO24PYgjRxjrQ5Fcx0FdmBpipzaLR3CAMTclSAAjdyiW1UFl50HeMr63-z7SPFrzNqCHB0Lo2cSygcwqsbaGPgmBk3ZFr_81q9Zg/s320/DSCF0306%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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3. I have a potty mouth. Anyone with such an ineloquent vocabulary surely doesn't deserve nice things.<br />
4. My room looks like a storage unit.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHhvkNiksE2YDQjp7S9NNxgZnsHR0EqBNGj7M7VpaGbkQPFO5LqQcpCRU2OZ3wMXdacYQPdMM2BkIbtmzahhID7JEHvmvcXwoH4Z4-1nGJ9qJzmDkr1mljkAeiT_t3iziMyJmShtbRNgo/s1600/DSCF0302%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHhvkNiksE2YDQjp7S9NNxgZnsHR0EqBNGj7M7VpaGbkQPFO5LqQcpCRU2OZ3wMXdacYQPdMM2BkIbtmzahhID7JEHvmvcXwoH4Z4-1nGJ9qJzmDkr1mljkAeiT_t3iziMyJmShtbRNgo/s320/DSCF0302%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking at this give me a headache.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9k_Vf23mR-iFInwRc3XX5u91FMxGMCgdjpJReyLvMon-i1Lcve-maIgyTPTP6lUSlvRxgDN2XVB0Yv7n_Om2pjOBWlVOmk6bZYXDB1q24Rzvct7rUKh4eiiLn-xaLDV-vQsnjsCGdOgU/s1600/DSCF0303%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9k_Vf23mR-iFInwRc3XX5u91FMxGMCgdjpJReyLvMon-i1Lcve-maIgyTPTP6lUSlvRxgDN2XVB0Yv7n_Om2pjOBWlVOmk6bZYXDB1q24Rzvct7rUKh4eiiLn-xaLDV-vQsnjsCGdOgU/s320/DSCF0303%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Notice the box of shoes. Just notice it.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMLvO382HYwxgFS3GbZ5KMsfFOEXIYFAqF4TR2B2Bq_V1qm1qDPs-i3J4WbfN-Akk12qgRLMNROSWvEyfk29nxZK-PXlQ_A4dje7O6hjBCdn-5oFnY-o0hFuODEVAdf8yHezNdmst64Ws/s1600/DSCF0304%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMLvO382HYwxgFS3GbZ5KMsfFOEXIYFAqF4TR2B2Bq_V1qm1qDPs-i3J4WbfN-Akk12qgRLMNROSWvEyfk29nxZK-PXlQ_A4dje7O6hjBCdn-5oFnY-o0hFuODEVAdf8yHezNdmst64Ws/s320/DSCF0304%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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DISCLAIMER: This isn't the nice pretty Hollywood room at my dad's house. This is a 10 year-long redecorating procrastination nightmare that is currently housing all of my college stuff and tons of miscellaneous crap. And more stuffed animals.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH-Ocj_BfvvKtY4pwfIjymuvOfHEBSE4XT846iXzFgvMAamytpyqSzz8PQ7KPtSuDA3iutkKb7kQNiwPZQBkut-E3m-Uu1pEanKkap9Hh5o8XcRrTxQE3YB4CNs26DHKC9AEMgg_EslE4/s1600/DSCF0305%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH-Ocj_BfvvKtY4pwfIjymuvOfHEBSE4XT846iXzFgvMAamytpyqSzz8PQ7KPtSuDA3iutkKb7kQNiwPZQBkut-E3m-Uu1pEanKkap9Hh5o8XcRrTxQE3YB4CNs26DHKC9AEMgg_EslE4/s320/DSCF0305%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't know which is more horrifying, the fact that I still have stuffed animals, or that headboard.</td></tr>
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5. My car is also a disaster.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9k88Z1iS8WVqzQHN635axygEVxSPvL9NA3C_0xwY1v5mjzg1Kr9Q6CEWrHyyWa5C1cqa5AUxUXnxWwT5Bp9olNAMcaH6faBxFprwxi-OAZdsJzFN61EqJldX_FoRgbK23HCo3VM3LIB4/s1600/DSCF0299%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9k88Z1iS8WVqzQHN635axygEVxSPvL9NA3C_0xwY1v5mjzg1Kr9Q6CEWrHyyWa5C1cqa5AUxUXnxWwT5Bp9olNAMcaH6faBxFprwxi-OAZdsJzFN61EqJldX_FoRgbK23HCo3VM3LIB4/s320/DSCF0299%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't kid yourself. Your car is a mess, too.</td></tr>
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6. ...of my bank account. #collegekidproblems #yesihashtaggedablogpost #dontjudge<br />
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7. I have one year-old dorm dust remaining on my laptop from Smith Hall. 'Nuff said.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqOLCGi1GxxCdxL5D1XPc5en7n-yBsxzXoiEkxwaP9elFfxwaM2DYA13TjSLva-6tg1X9YLCltpHMJ0m3_W7hPdPFdS6ZUxfW2-v5DAT5vyUyD5p68-oY1so-lcshgth0OoO31rTx-Fs/s1600/DSCF0297%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqOLCGi1GxxCdxL5D1XPc5en7n-yBsxzXoiEkxwaP9elFfxwaM2DYA13TjSLva-6tg1X9YLCltpHMJ0m3_W7hPdPFdS6ZUxfW2-v5DAT5vyUyD5p68-oY1so-lcshgth0OoO31rTx-Fs/s320/DSCF0297%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can barely see it... but it's there!</td></tr>
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8. ...of this face.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhei95jZCMXzzjDEHo-pLJuzoJOAJY-N4cg3x8enmC85-lxm9kquAgcVJt2_11BxNrqVHJO0XogU6Y4pIyRMQ5qIYID5JNmCOhwJu9WJos1UlDY6ke_oK7sNM5o-z6yrEKZN08oPYlk9n4/s1600/Picture0549.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhei95jZCMXzzjDEHo-pLJuzoJOAJY-N4cg3x8enmC85-lxm9kquAgcVJt2_11BxNrqVHJO0XogU6Y4pIyRMQ5qIYID5JNmCOhwJu9WJos1UlDY6ke_oK7sNM5o-z6yrEKZN08oPYlk9n4/s320/Picture0549.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And that hair.</td></tr>
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And finally...<br />
<div>
9. Because apparently my picture-taking skills are still in the Myspace phase.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3xiUEZwlhgWjbgjMd74HFIRXOGc604RdNRrS3x88nyfaO81wXcA4WTX48fb95eRieqcxmlFt_NTMIZrunYtUwcivcegzWw9jEmdHlE9xCuq07bh3A46fTQWuGsqDLLLfSDfOTTnKgdGE/s1600/DSCF0295%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3xiUEZwlhgWjbgjMd74HFIRXOGc604RdNRrS3x88nyfaO81wXcA4WTX48fb95eRieqcxmlFt_NTMIZrunYtUwcivcegzWw9jEmdHlE9xCuq07bh3A46fTQWuGsqDLLLfSDfOTTnKgdGE/s320/DSCF0295%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I feel it's all the funnier to leave it sideways.</td></tr>
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<br /></div>Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-11926037293233981092012-06-06T20:53:00.000-07:002012-06-06T20:53:15.039-07:00Short Post About a Nice Guy Who Didn't Get Permanently Stuck in the Friend Zone The best thing I ever did was give the nice guy a chance. I took a risk and went out on a date with a confident, intelligent, fun guy who I had known for years (and secretly wanted for a long time).<div>
I had chewed out and said my goodbyes to the "bad boy" (who I had also wanted for a little while) who strung me along because he wasn't interested in anything more than fooling around after he told me he was still talking to his ex. I had had enough. I already had been given the heave-ho by another guy I was with for two years for another woman, and now this idiot thought he could two-time me (For a second time. Don't even get me started.). I was irate, but at the same time relieved. I was free. Free from my curiosity of what would never have been. I no longer felt the need to get this lost cause out of my system lest it cause me to take a good guy for granted. It was over before it began. So I took the plunge and took the nice guy out of the friend zone and went on a date with him.</div>
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The best friend guy is everything I never knew I wanted in a guy. He loves me unconditionally, but he likes me. He's secure enough to value my independence and doesn't complain that I'm not needy enough (That's a huge peeve of mine. Why would you want a woman who depends on you to make decisions and do everything all the time? That's not laying the pressure on yourself too heavy or anything.). He always encourages me to grow as a person and to constantly challenge myself and improve. He appreciates my flaws and doesn't complain about the ways that I fall short as a human being (and that's saying a lot considering that I screw up a lot). He's honest with me, too. He doesn't lie or keep secrets from me (also another peeve of mine). And yeah he's pretty handsome, too.</div>
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Two and a half years later I've been with the same wonderful guy, and it's been the most fulfilling relationship I've had the privilege to be half of. We've had some challenges, like my moving across the state for college, but we've both grown as people as has our relationship. I can only hope the rest of the female population catches on and finds their other half like I did.</div>Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-63357111646889829302012-06-01T17:56:00.001-07:002012-06-01T18:26:20.951-07:00Goodbyes Are Always the Hardest<br />
I lost my best friend today, my poodle Ginger. Her health had started deteriorating rapidly a week and a half ago. She had an enlarged heart and while she was doing well on medication and diuretics, her health took a turn for the worst last night and she began suffering from edema of the lungs near the point of suffocation. She kept my mom up all night last night gasping for breath. Rather than take her to the emergency vet again and put her in a stressful situation and possibly cause a heart attack, my mom waited until our veterinarian's office was open and decided to put her to sleep somewhere she would be comfortable. We had a very kind and friendly vet who treated Ginger very well, so she was never scared or anxious at her appointments. Her health was so deteriorated and her breathing so labored that all she needed was a sedative. She went very peacefully in my mom's lap. I'm really sad that I couldn't be there in her last moments, but I'm glad she isn't in pain anymore.<br />
There are so many things Ginger taught me about life and love in such a short time. I really learned some of the most important things just by watching her be a dog. It's funny how our pets have that effect on us. I learned to enjoy the little things in life. I learned that true beauty comes from your happiness within, your essence, and not solely from your appearance. Most importantly, I learned unconditional love.<br />
Ginger was one individual who really knew how to live in the moment. I'd take her to the dog park and she would just go to town taking in all the smells and sights. She loved to frolic. Watching her wander and sniff the ground around her, occasionally stopping to look up and wag her little stubby tail (or her nub, as we called it) at us if we called out to her was just the cutest thing to watch. Let her wander around outside and she was happy. It was comical to watch her play with her toys all by herself. She would toss them around and trot around the living room floor and growl and grumble at them like she was a little child making up dialogue between herself and her little buddy. Then after she would shake them silly, she would proudly trot off dragging her toy alongside her to her retreat under the computer desk, thrilled with her victory.<br />
She was well-traveled, too. We took her on almost all the family vacations to Tennessee, Georgia, and she even came to Tallahassee when my family came to see me in The Rocky Horror Show. She always enjoyed a good car ride, especially when it took her to her Grammy's house. We all knew it was because Grammy spoiled her rotten. However, she did <i>not</i> enjoy her car seat, in part because it didn't allow her to stick her head outside the window and smell the open air. It also kept her from jumping to the front seat and into my mom's lap.<br />
It's funny how dogs never have self-image issues like humans do. They could be the goofiest, ugliest looking things in the world and be the happiest creatures put on the earth. Before my mom caved and finally started investing in a groomer, Ginger always won the award for "Worst Haircut" by a landslide. She continued to enjoy being a dog just the same. Even when she put on a few pounds with age, it never stopped her from enjoying her food. She enjoyed a wide culinary variety. Everything from cheeseburgers to spaghetti to cannoli filling. She even indulged in my mom's wine once, we discovered one night when we came home to find my mom's wine goblet tipped over with a few drops of leftover white wine pooled in the side. Ginger also learned the pains of a bad hangover the next day when she spent the entire day sprawled out on the couch sleeping. But I think her favorite was the whole cheeseburger she would have all to herself on her birthday. She got older and rounder, but never stopped eating like a puppy.<br />
The most important thing Ginger taught me was unconditional love. She must have seen me go through hundreds of good days, bad days, crying spells, fits of rage, breakups, sick days and you name it in the last eleven years and yet she never thought any less of me. She was around when I would get ready for shows and dates, she would be home to greet me when I came home. She didn't judge me when boredom caused me to uphold conversations with myself at home alone, and she didn't mind my living room karaoke sessions. She was there for a cuddle when I was sick, and she didn't mind me crying all over her fur when I got my heart broken by a boy. One morning after a really bad breakup, she stood outside my bedroom door whimpering for my mom to let her in so she could jump up on my bed and cheer me up. She was the Official Poodle Date Approval Department for every guy I've ever dated. She liked Patrick the most. She never held anything against me, or brought up my past wrongs. She loved me in spite of my many flaws.<br />
That's only the tip of the iceberg. As much as my heart hurts at this new empty space her passing has left behind, I know I will forever carry these things with me and always remember to be genuine because of her. So thank you, Ginger. Thank you for teaching me what's really important and for bringing our family such joy over your life. We will always remember you.<br />
<br />
<br />
<h3 align="CENTER">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: small;">A POEM FOR THE GRIEVING...</span></span></h3>
<div align="CENTER">
<span style="background-color: white;">Do not stand at my grave and weep.<br />I am not there, I do not sleep.<br />I am a thousand winds that blow,<br />I am the diamond glints on snow.<br />I am the sunlight on ripened grain,<br />I am the gentle autumn's rain.<br />When you awaken in the morning's hush,<br />I am the swift uplifting rush<br />of quiet birds in circled flight.<br />I am the stars that shine at night.<br />Do not stand at my grave and cry,<br />I am not there, I did not die...</span></div>
<div align="CENTER">
<i style="background-color: white;">-Anonymous</i></div>
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<br />Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-34364731348394349942012-05-31T15:38:00.003-07:002012-06-02T16:04:12.207-07:00Things People Do On Facebook That I Do Not Understand Alright, so I'm going to try not to write a book about this because everybody and their brother has posted about this at some point. Google "annoying things people do on Facebook" and the results go on for pages and pages. I'm also not trying to get on some sort of high horse either, because let's face it, I'm guilty of doing some of these things too. I just find the patterns of behavior humorous and I feel the need to point out the ones that bug me the most. That said...<br />
<br />
1. Feed-bombing<br />
This one is annoying for obvious reasons. "Going to the store. Text me." 5 minutes later, "Omg this traffic is aaaawwwwful!" Another 5 minutes later, "Hey, I saw a turtle crossing the road! I wonder why it was doing that." Another 5 minutes, "This grocery store sucks! They don't have [insert random item or name brand here]." 2 seconds later, "Ok, I'm coming home now!" 10 minutes later, "Phew! So good to be home and unpacked." 2 minutes later "OMG! Check out this article about cats doing stuff!" And it goes on and on...<br />
Only someone who is <i>extremely</i> stuck in the lowest realm of boredom would feel the need to post a play-by-play of their mundane daily life all over Facebook for everyone to read. Seriously. Are you lonely? Is this irritating manner of grabbing people's attention your subconscious telling you that you need to get a hobby? 'Cause I really think you spend way to much time on the interwebs. I mean, really. Get some real friends. Until you stop you're hidden from my feed.<br />
<br />
2. Overzealous religious/political posts<br />
I really don't care about your judgmental stance on everybody who doesn't agree with you. I happen to be one of those rose-colored glasses-wearing people who prefers to post <i>positive</i> things about God online. I prefer to post things that lift people up, because lezbehonest, nobody wants to hear that God hates them. I also shy away from political posts because what seems like a little debate often times starts wars between people. We've been through it in real life. People cut off communication with each other over politics. That's way too intense for me to even go near that!<br />
<br />
3. Taking pictures of food<br />
I really just don't get this one. I'm not talking posting a picture once and a while of a really impressive cake you made or cupcakes or whatever. I'm talking about the people who take pictures of every single meal and post them on Facebook. Unless you are a food blogger or chef and it is your profession to do so, you really don't need to share your culinary routine with us. I really don't get it! I'm sorry! I just don't! Are you seeking approval for your taste in food? If so, good for you for eating your vegetables! You go, Glen Coco!<br />
<br />
4. Vague status<br />
I'm guilty of this one. "Things are so hard right now. I just don't know what to do. I'm gonna cry. I hate when these things happen. :(((" That person who posts a vague status because they want people to ask what's wrong. I know because I do that. It's a way of indicating that something is wrong without airing out your laundry. It's really annoying. It's even worse when they post a whole long paragraph about feeling like crap and they just end up talking in circles about feeling like crap. My only word of advice is just that you be prepared to answer people when they ask what's wrong. Don't say "Oh, nothing." Because it's pointless for you to post the status without telling anyone anything.<br />
<br />
5. Inaccurate spelling/poor grammar<br />
Two words: pet peeve. Seriously, I will judge you if you're not using proper grammar, spelling and punctuation. Mind you, I have slip-ups every so often as well. But at least... I don't know... FIX THEM! "Oh, but it's just Facebook!" NO! There is no excuse for you to stop applying all those years of English classes only to slowly dumb yourself down. You never know who is reading your statuses. It could be your boss, and they could decide that you're not as smart as your resume makes you look. And then you might get fired or passed over for someone who is more consistent. I'm not always the sharpest bulb in the crayon box, but even I knew that! Shame on you. Now, go study your spelling and grammar and other smart people stuff!<br />
<br />
6. The "Call me/Text me" status<br />
I'm also guilty of this one. Chances are you, like the feed-bomber, are bored out of your mind and need someone to talk to, yet you don't actually want to take the initiative to pick up your phone and text/call someone. Just pick up the phone and do it! You won't need to ask people to do it for you!<br />
<br />
7. The TMI.<br />
"I have the worst diarrhea today! It's a race out my *** and everybody wins!" Um, ick! I don't think I need to continue on why this bugs me. 'Nuff said!<br />
<br />
I just realized that I ended up writing a lot more than I said I would. Whoops.Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-2911592725624971852012-05-29T07:40:00.000-07:002012-05-29T09:40:25.997-07:00Speak Up... Or Else. I wanted to say something. Anything. I wanted to leave my thoughts on yet another reason why this country is headed towards "Idiocracy." I had it planned out perfectly. I wanted to say "how disgusted I am at this situation. This is not a story of a troubled person. This is a story of an altruistic person who is spread way too thin and needs to be <i>helped</i>, not punished." I had spent fifteen minutes staring at the post coming up with a whole beautiful, well thought out rant just waiting to be typed out. I was going to conclude it with "the judge who made this ruling needs to be reprimanded for stupidity. This lack of common sense is why we're headed towards 'Idiocracy.'" (You can venture a guess on the issue if you are caught up on current events). However, I hesitated.<br />
<br />
"That's crap," I thought. "Nobody will even notice that, let alone like it." I didn't post anything at all. Again.<br />
<br />
This is just another one of those times where my voice goes unused. It happens all the time. More often than I'd like to allow or admit. I don't like starting debates with people because I fear they will become more heated than I plan. Or I might sound unintelligent. Or I might sound very intelligent but someone will insult me anyway. I try to brush it off like being controversial is not really my style and that I don't really care. But I do care.<br />
It's never been difficult for me to be intelligent from an artistic standpoint. There's so much leeway to think and analyze with an artistic piece, it's almost like you can't really be wrong. Politics and law are a completely different story. There are so many biases that you really have no idea what's right and what's wrong until you get the facts. Did I mention that because of all the biases and noise the hard facts are always the most difficult to obtain?<br />
I really don't get why it's such an issue. There are far dumber people out there who can't keep their mouths shut and just babble forever without a single inkling of what they're even saying. So many times have I wanted to retort back at them and make them eat their words and think twice about opening their mouth again. So many. I think that's one of the downsides of having become so introverted in the last year. I think and think and think, but I won't speak unless it's important (Or I'm at work. My job involves a lot of talking.). I think too much and speak too little. Actually I've always thought too much. I've always been introverted as well (technically I'm an ambivert because I switch back and forth), but due to my involvement in performing arts I always assumed that that made me an extrovert. But I digress.<br />
I have an idea. Not just for myself, but for other ambiverts/introverts in the same boat (and extroverts too, although I can't see how you would even have this problem). Let's make a five-month-late-not-so-new-year New Years resolution to <i>speak up</i>. To voice our opinions without fear of sounding stupid. To take risks and openly run with our ideas. To not be so inhibited.<br />
<br />
Time to step into my running shoes.Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-71365393201974058782012-05-27T12:09:00.002-07:002012-05-27T12:26:58.998-07:00You Know You're a Grownup When...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I haven't posted anything in a while, and for some reason whenever I get around to it I almost always happen to be in a bad mood or intensely pensive about something. I figured I'd post something lighthearted and funny. I know a lot of my friends can relate to this because we're all pretty much in the same boat. I got the idea from the blog of a high school classmate to whom I am subscribed.</div>
<br />
Without further ado.<br />
<br />
You Know You're a Grownup When...<br />
<br />
1. You actually make an effort to make sure your room is in at least a state of ordered chaos because you feel that excessive clutter doesn't match the furniture in your bedroom.<br />
2. You have guilt about leaving messes in somebody's house, leading me to #3.<br />
3. You tidy up your room and bathroom without your parents having to ask.<br />
4. You shake your head with disapproval at the lack of fruits and vegetables in your parents' fridge.<br />
5. You actually enjoy grocery shopping.<br />
6. You don't mind cooking for yourself. You also don't mind not cooking for yourself. You also don't mind going without dinner because you're too lazy to cook for yourself.<br />
7. Seeing dust on the furniture and messes in the kitchen make you crazy.<br />
8. You put your laundry <i>away</i> instead of leaving it in a "neat" pile on the floor (!!!).<br />
9. You become health-conscious because you're afraid you'll end up spending your life savings and then some on medical care.<br />
10. Staying in and watching movies become your favorite thing to do on Friday night rather than clubbing.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq45xIgEkPJwlRvo3F4FFG_1Ba9RNpZv9e-lqQXVNcQSu9yHT5QYGRMAY6qa8nFhrcslqHxdvzvlGI3CuVEVkyzc9n6pRyStvNBmqdMV7jb4e7UvLKLFoh54h_l65iztK7fNuEsJFE8K4/s1600/DSCF0285%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq45xIgEkPJwlRvo3F4FFG_1Ba9RNpZv9e-lqQXVNcQSu9yHT5QYGRMAY6qa8nFhrcslqHxdvzvlGI3CuVEVkyzc9n6pRyStvNBmqdMV7jb4e7UvLKLFoh54h_l65iztK7fNuEsJFE8K4/s320/DSCF0285%5B1%5D.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Clearly clutter doesn't go with the theme of this room.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSZpcIIzrUFxiOOetzJiE9ESrJEgkrJzDDC-ub3vbue6y6v3VYs8OxRU9t0Ny1J5M0uLq2LViK5X8u4Qd3hiKcEqkqz_VarI0dbjweoAa9qEZIVzEG6fcPkPHjA0h1j4wZlm5LgvkaU1c/s1600/DSCF0287%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSZpcIIzrUFxiOOetzJiE9ESrJEgkrJzDDC-ub3vbue6y6v3VYs8OxRU9t0Ny1J5M0uLq2LViK5X8u4Qd3hiKcEqkqz_VarI0dbjweoAa9qEZIVzEG6fcPkPHjA0h1j4wZlm5LgvkaU1c/s320/DSCF0287%5B1%5D.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Maybe the guilt is from Audrey Hepburn staring into my soul...</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Mind you, these are very minor and a lot of these are particular to my personality type.<br />
<br />
Don't fret though, I still am very much a kid in other ways.<br />
<br />
1. I still watch Disney movies. And I sing along to them. Spongebob is my favorite cartoon. Don't judge me.<br />
2. I revel in the glory of being able to eat cake and chocolate for breakfast without anyone having a say otherwise. I don't actually do that, but I could if I wanted to!<br />
3. I enjoy having my apartments/houses to myself solely for the purpose of dancing around in my underwear.<br />
4. I would still wear bows in my hair if I had bows to wear in my hair.<br />
5. The "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" series cracks me up.<br />
6. I dance in front my mirror to my ipod while lip syncing into my hair brush. Still (You know you do, too! You just won't admit to it.).<br />
7. I'm still not ready to part with my stuffed animals. Again, don't judge me.<br />
8. I don't understand why everyone is getting married. No, please. Enlighten me on what your hurry is.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYdmkKU2NqDArF1VXi6ko0nT3hNyzSpkj6BY5Q8XaugPlH595b-VL9jR8wNiqke4ZDMyiG9ayOa3WmH4XHQuGNZq_612BOE5HvDZFr8feBd3IhtVQnbgMA3WCsXjJo9qiEnkdIRifS_oI/s1600/DSCF0289.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYdmkKU2NqDArF1VXi6ko0nT3hNyzSpkj6BY5Q8XaugPlH595b-VL9jR8wNiqke4ZDMyiG9ayOa3WmH4XHQuGNZq_612BOE5HvDZFr8feBd3IhtVQnbgMA3WCsXjJo9qiEnkdIRifS_oI/s320/DSCF0289.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can't believe I posted this on the internet. At least they're all hidden in the corner.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I guarantee there's more. I'll probably continue this post later on or something.Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-31511653093233616732012-04-21T11:37:00.002-07:002012-06-02T16:08:54.081-07:00Stupid-Girl-Wedding-Obsession Syndrome I really think I'm coming down with something. I have been hankering to make a pinboard dedicated to wedding stuff and I'm getting increasingly more annoyed with people my age getting engaged/married. It's happening. I'm becoming one of THOSE girls. You know what I'm talking about.<br />
After the romantic ideals of my last relationship never happened (a very rude awakening, I might add), I vowed to <i>never</i> become that girl. I vowed to be the smart, ambitious, independent woman who focused on her career, paid all her own bills and got her master's degree before even thinking about anything wedding related. I'm 22 years old, none of that has even nearly been accomplished, yet I'm being suckered into the commercialist romanticized ideas of the wedding industry and all things wedding. This is not good. What is wrong with me?! With the sky-high divorce rate and constant complaints about married life out of the mouths of married people, marriage scares me. Any inkling of having to settle down and give up my freedom makes me sick to my stomach.<br />
And I don't even like weddings that much. Like, at all. I think they are over-glamorized, materialistic, and start way more drama than they are supposed to. And they're expensive! I will admit though, they do give me a good excuse to make use of some of the dresses I otherwise have no use for, get creative with my hair and dance for a good five or so hours. But the whole reality of awkward forced interaction with people you don't know because you're all stuck together at the miscellaneous misfit table really just turns me off to them. Let's face it, we've all been that person of whom the lucky couple has no real attachment to who's really only there as a warm body to help fill the venue (Or because your groomsmen boyfriend needs a date... that jerk. I'm not bitter.).<br />
But I'd really like to know what's with the constant preoccupation with them? Girls <i>obsess</i> over their weddings from the time they are born because that's what we're supposed to do, according to fairy tales and society. I don't understand why girls see their wedding day as the be-all, end-all best day of their lives. Like it's some sort of rite of passage into real womanhood, right up there with reaching menarche. They obsess about the details of the wedding and some even yell at everyone within a 2-mile radius, but until the rings have been exchanged, the bouquet has been tossed and wedding night merriment has taken place, they never stop to think about the kind of marriage they're going to have after it's all said and done.<br />
What gets me even more is that in a woman's life, there will be several "best days" of her life, not just her wedding day. And it varies per woman, too (believe it or not!)! For some, the best days of your life will be the day you bring your children into the world, get to the top of the corporate ladder, or get noticed for an accomplishment that changes the face of humanity. For some the best days of your life will be high school or college (if that's the case, then I feel very sorry for you). And yes, for women who go into it for the <i>right</i> reasons, the day you join lives with the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. But until then, we need to stop occupying ourselves with idealistic romantic notions and the perception that weddings are the key to happiness. Seriously, I'm getting suckered into it at a point in my life where I'm not ready. If it doesn't stop, I'm spending my life savings hiring a doctor to perform a mercy killing.<br />
<br />
You all think I'm kidding.Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-19347302931630050692012-04-20T21:32:00.001-07:002012-05-27T12:15:31.724-07:00Post-Show Withdrawal I am starting to go through show withdrawals since Rocky Horror closed this weekend. Mind you, the show will be opening in Orlando in three weeks, but I still have no freaking clue what to do with myself. I spent all week studying and basking in the idea of not having anything to do with my nights but relax and chill, but now that Friday has rolled around and I'm hanging out at home, everything is hitting me at once.<br />
<br />
I seem to have an unhealthy relationship with shows closing. Usually when a show closes, I start getting excited that I have nothing to do, but it's usually followed by some sort of depression where I question what I'm doing with my life and if I'm ever going to amount to anything. I proceed to pick my life apart and wonder why I'm not doing enough, why I'm so unimportant off the stage, why I'm unmotivated to make myself important off the stage, why I can't get myself a job, why companies are hiring stupid people over competent people like myself (some of the customer service here is so bad it blows my mind how these people get hired in the first place!), and when I'll ever amount to anything. It then turns into this drawn out period of boredom and self-loathing all because I have some sort of time void that I'm doing an awful job of filling.<br />
<br />
It's also a point in time where my brain kicks into overdrive about other things too. I've managed to come up with a list of goals for my summer, of which I am going to post soon enough, as well as a list of things that shouldn't freak me out but do anyway. The latter of those two is quite funny, I promise you. So funny that instead of posting an entire list, I'm going to just post them as they come to me A) because I like the idea of starting a series and B) because it gives me incentive to post on this thing regularly.<br />
<br />
Goals For The Summer:<br />
<br />
1. Work and save up money so I don't have to take out loans my last year of school<br />
2. Sell most of the estate sale items that are piled up in the garage<br />
3. Start auditioning for agents (this one gives me the worst anxiety... I'll touch on that later)<br />
4. Hopefully do some films at FSU (completely out of my control, hence the keyword 'hopefully')<br />
5. Webcam karaoke series on Youtube. I'm trying to get my voice out more for people to hear, because lezbehonest, I'm a far better singer than actor by far and I should be noticed for that first. However, due to my overly critical, perfectionistic nature, even after 18+ years of being a singer, posting videos of myself singing for EVERYONE to see makes me even more nitpicky than if I were to just perform live. I have managed to post a video of myself singing the National Anthem on Youtube. I'll post the link:<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8IiIDZkLf-Y&feature=plcp&context=C42213aeVDvjVQa1PpcFMDHVqZ2-SVS6ZtnBeXl5XksP2Y9fVcsqE%3D">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8IiIDZkLf-Y&feature=plcp&context=C42213aeVDvjVQa1PpcFMDHVqZ2-SVS6ZtnBeXl5XksP2Y9fVcsqE%3D</a>
<br />
6. Keep up with my fitness routine and diet. This is crucial because it's the summer, it's gonna be 100 degrees out, and I need to keep my motivation to continue running.<br />
<br />
Things That Shouldn't Freak Me Out But Do Anyway #1 and #2<br />
<br />
1. Auditions. I believe I touched on this one on my Facebook status this morning. Auditions make me a nervous wreck. This has to do with being a perfectionist. I think it's carried over from my childhood, when I had anxiety and nerves about performing in front of people. I sang a solo in front of my church when I was in elementary school, and I haven't been the same since my mom played the tape back that afternoon and I listened to my own voice for the first time. I hated the sound of my voice, and because of that I didn't want to sing for my family when they asked. Listening to myself sing still makes me cringe, and I HATE watching myself act in plays, too. Watching the DVD of my performance in Evita scarred me for life. I think since that afternoon I've become my own worst critic and worst enemy, which in turn has sapped my potential to have fun at auditions. I'm getting better though, both at auditioning and handling auditions. Black Comedy callbacks last semester were a lot of fun, the most fun I've ever had at any audition.<br />
2. ATM buttons at the FSU ATMs. I don't know if I'm the only one who's noticed this, but why do ATM buttons beep so loudly?! Or the ones on FSU's campus, anyway. Seriously! I don't want to draw attention to the fact that I'm withdrawing money from my bank account! God forbid someone hears the buttons and decides to stand looking over my shoulder for my account information. It's even worse if you have to withdraw cash at night, before you go to the movies or to a club or something. It's one of those things that screams "I have valuables! Come rob me!" Think about it!<br />
<br />
I'm going to continue to post on things that freak me out as time goes on.<br />
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Please watch my video. It took a lot of courage to post that, and it's a wonder I've kept it up for almost a year without taking it down.Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-72806524604037142102012-03-31T14:36:00.003-07:002012-03-31T14:36:16.828-07:00Movin' On UpI was contacted by an MFA producer yesterday. He noticed my extra work in previous MFA and BFA films and told me his director wants to use me as a featured extra in a Master's Thesis film! Master's. Thesis. Film. I'm getting somewhere slowly and surely. People are noticing my work and my reliability and I'm getting bigger roles.<br />
The best part is that they're willing to work around my schedule!Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-85925173929159136742012-03-30T11:34:00.002-07:002012-04-20T21:33:10.088-07:00Annoying Whiny Baby EntryI feel like I'm drowning in mediocrity this semester. I have yet to get an A on any exams I've taken, but tons of B's. I'm near broke. I'm getting job interviews, but have not landed a job. I have school, a paid gig touring in a play, a lead role in a film, and a job waiting for me this summer, yet I feel like I'm not doing enough with my life. That A I thought I got on my Accounting exam last night? It was a 79%! I have to take the GRE this summer. I'm a horrible test taker when it comes to math. Prep classes for the GRE exam come down to $1200, or else I'd be in class several days a week! I have to start thinking of grad schools and audition pieces for them. What if I don't get into any? Then what am I going to do? And what's worse is that because I haven't found a job up in Tallahassee, I have to return home this summer. I don't want to come home. I feel completely useless when I'm home. Everyone in my family is going to remind me that I'm not doing enough because I'm off from school and only working. I'm also never going to hear the end of changing my major. This is only going to exacerbate my problems. Please God let me get a job now!<br />
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Becoming a professional hobo sounds better than coming home this summer.</div>Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-24095567583082440702012-03-15T11:41:00.001-07:002012-06-22T20:50:07.764-07:00Things Happen For a Reason It's really funny how things work out. I have this fortunate way of being in the right place at the right time, right before or after that place becomes or was the wrong place to be.<br />
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Last night at around 11:07 pm, there was an armed robbery on campus by The Leach Center. This is really no surprise being as Tallahassee is notorious for robberies after hours, and there's at least one on FSU's campus every other week. I was exhausted and had just gotten out of rehearsal maybe seven minutes prior (I was at the Fireplace, mind you, which is on the other end off-campus a few streets, not really coincidental), thankful that the huge typhoon that poured down around 9:30 was over. I got into my car and upon discovering that I didn't have my phone, started shuffling through the mess on my floor in a panic. I have an issue with misplacing my things sometimes, with my phone being the most recent thing I leave behind. It's a problem, I know. Anyway, I forget my phone and this causes a delay in time it takes for me to get back to my dorm, which is probably less than 1/4 mile from the Leach Center. But here's another kicker: I can't find parking in both lots outside my hall, so I have to drive to the Woodward Garage, which is a little bit of a walk, and also not too far from the Leach Center.</div>
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I finally get a parking spot on the 2nd floor, I walk back to my hall as fast as I can with my giant visible purse and no phone to call 911 with in case of an emergency, intent on checking my apartment for it (I left it on my desk). It was probably about 11:15 when I got in. About 8 minutes after said robbery occurred. Whoa.</div>
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It was quite inconvenient to get delayed in getting home from the Fireplace because I thought I lost my phone and then couldn't find parking. But as luck would have it, this delay saved me from a dangerous situation. It's like God was thinking "Ok, so there's gonna be a robbery around 11:07 tonight. Knowing you, you're gonna forget your phone because you're tired today and a little forgetful. Then because of the thunderstorm, there won't be any parking by your hall because everyone will decide to either stay in or come home early. This will give you time to get to the Woodward garage while the robbers flee off of campus. Don't worry, though. There will be a close spot on the 2nd floor for you. Keep your pepper spray in your hand if it makes you feel better. Your phone will be on your desk where you left it. Now try not to forget it next time, ok?"</div>
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Wow, everything really does happen for a reason.</div>Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-55952858220056783142012-03-14T15:55:00.003-07:002012-03-14T15:56:51.066-07:00Newly-Liberated Self<br />
I think I'm well on my way out of being a people pleaser.<br />
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I've noticed that I've become more assertive and brutally honest with people. I'm attributing this to being on my own and taking my own needs into consideration, something I never used to do until I was way beyond meltdown point. I also don't tolerate bullcrap from people as much, and I have a much easier time communicating when someone's being a jerk. So, don't give me problems unless you'd like to hear it from my mouth in raw form.<br />
The truth of the matter is that I simply don't care anymore. I mean, I care, but no longer to the extent of fragility over what people will think of me. Don't get me wrong, I still have plenty of consideration for how people might feel when you tell them something they might not want to hear. Believe me, I've been at the tail end of brutal honesty more times in my life than I can remember and I know how badly it sucks. I'm just not going to tell people what they want to hear anymore. If you ask my honest opinion on something, I'm going to tell you. I'm going to tell you what's wrong, how it can be bettered, and then I'm going to move on.<br />
There comes a certain point in your life where you start to evaluate people and situations into two categories: worth the heartache and not worth the heartache. Most things simply aren't worth the heartache to me anymore. Now, I'm not saying people don't still piss me off like they used to. Believe me, if I had a nickel for every time I wanted to punch someone in the face for being stupid, especially recently, I'd probably own the bank. But letting these things weigh on my mind isn't worth the heartache. I'm learning the art of letting go.<br />
Patrick thinks this new me could be dangerous, but I kind of like this new girl more than the old girl. The old girl, upon criticism or insult, would get overly defensive or call up every one of her friends and complain and whine about the situation while never directly saying a word to her critic. She would let something little like that pain her for days, weeks even. I've learned to say what's on my mind, then let the situation go. It's great.<br />
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I feel liberated.Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-52955614770049826512012-03-09T09:30:00.001-08:002012-03-09T09:30:34.700-08:00The Ever-So-Lexi Disappearing ActA few ponderings of my mind that I feel the need to get out before I get to the heart of this blog:<br />
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1. I'm not at all the party animal I'd like to be sometimes. I can go out and have a good time, but once it gets too crowded and too late, I get overstimulated and everything stops being fun and just gets tedious and exhausting. I start to get quiet and people always think there's something wrong with me suddenly. But the truth of the matter is that I'm just plain spent and need to go to sleep.<br />
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2. Is it bad that, in spite of everyone talking about the beach and getting tan for the summer, I really don't care about getting tan? 'Cause I don't. I'm Irish, Scottish, Italian, German, Welsh, Portuguese, and Cherokee. Notice how 2/3 of my heritage comes from light-skinned European descent. I'm a fair-skinned, mostly caucasian girl who's come to terms with the fact that I'm not genetically made to be tan. In fact, I sizzle up like a slice of bacon in the sun. So, stop telling me I need to go out in the sun and raise my chances of getting skin cancer so I can conform to your ridiculous American standard of beauty. And no I do not want to spend money on a spray tan, either.<br />
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3. I'm relapsing into old patterns of behavior that are not at all endearing. It's back to the point where I'm obsessing over the same demons and insecurities ad nauseam. And drinking alcohol makes it worse.<br />
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With number three having been said, I am relapsing into nothing more than a royal pain, and therefore I feel the need to hide away for a while. It's a damage control thing. I need time to cool off and regroup before I say something dangerous and ruin my entire life as I know it for the near-future. It's also so I can rethink my attitude a little bit, refocus myself and get back on track and back in control. Lord knows a less than stellar attitude saps productivity and general well-being, and I'm the last person who needs that with the 8,000 tasks I'm taking on or trying to take on.<br />
But mostly, I'm a perfectionist. I hide away in an attempt to control who sees my flaws. Honestly, I'm such a pain the ass when I get like this that it's really just better to spare people the grueling task of putting up with me altogether. After all, I am supposed to be perfect. I mean, God forbid anyone see that I'm a human being! How absurd!<br />
All kidding aside, it's a problem folks (or folk, because nobody reads this)! A problem that I'm still trying to get a handle on after realizing it's a problem a few years ago. I think it has to do with being an only child who was constantly the center of attention. I feel like everyone's watching me, but past the constant parental supervision age nobody really gives a rat's fanny that I'm borderline psychotic some days. Which is a relief, if you think about. However, old habits die hard as they say. Having gotten this off my chest, I'm gonna go disappear for a while.<br />
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Oh, and you never read this post by the way. If word gets out that I'm not really perfect, people might judge.Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-4484977442795408842012-03-07T12:54:00.002-08:002012-03-07T12:54:50.256-08:00Something Mom Should Know<div>
Please refrain from calling me snookie (notice the difference in spelling from "Snooki"). It may have been cute five or six years ago in the Pre-Guido/Guidette days, but now it's just insulting. I am not a short, orange, alcohol-saturated, cussing Oompa Loompa with an obnoxious pompadour. The only thing I have in common to specific aforesaid Oompa Loompa is my extensive sailor vocabulary. That's it. Now, please find a better nickname for me. Please and thank you.</div>
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Segue, apparently the rumors have been confirmed. It is true that Snooki is pregnant. Time for jokes.</div>
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The fetus was seen in the ultrasound fist pumping.</div>
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Snooki's water isn't going to break, her vodka is going to break.</div>
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The kid's gonna come out orange and drunk.</div>
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Snooki gets pregnant and the Vatican suddenly changes its views on birth control.</div>
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Ok, I'm done.</div>
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But really, Snooki's pregnant. God help us all...</div>Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-64153792280504553472012-03-07T12:22:00.001-08:002012-03-07T12:34:35.851-08:00Disinspiration... If That's Even a Word... It's been months since I've actually given myself a chance to sit down and write a piece about anything. Scratch that. It's been a while since I've given myself a chance to sit down and <em>finish</em> a piece about anything. I've started several pieces that I, looking back at them in my draft folder, no longer remember where they were going when I started them. I was working on a really good one about my struggle with anxiety that was so overwhelmingly long-winded that I left it to take a break, got a bit lackadaisical, and haven't revisited it until now. You'd think that with my story being my story, I would be able to remember where I was going with it. Creativity and lackadaisy don't go well together. <br />
That's always been a problem with me. I feel so accomplished having finished something halfway that I never feel the urge to push myself to finish it, and I lose my inspiration. I have so many ideas that never become anything because I can't just sit down and focus on them. Imagine my ingenuity if I did! I've had countless ideas for songs, short stories, videos, webcam karaoke (coming soon... hopefully), you name it! Maybe I just have a problem picking something, brainstorming it and sticking to it until it is finished. Although I do enough of that in school.<br />
Actually, it's just now hitting me why I can't finish things on my own time. I get <em>distracted. </em>Case in point right now: I have multiple tabs on my browser that I keep clicking on periodically to see what's up on Facebook, I have music playing, and I keep taking random dance breaks and pulling up my webcam to make faces at myself. No joke. The sentence before this was preceded to one of said dance breaks. Even this piece isn't getting written because I'm getting distracted. I'm too distracted to write about being distracted. Yep.<br />
But cut me a break here! I've been in rehearsals every night, doing films and commercials, and studying, studying, studying for the last how many weeks? I've had an exam every week for the last month. I even deleted my Facebook so I could be more productive, but reactivated it because I was sick of being an isolated hermit.
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I think I'm this way because I don't have to do anything right now. I'm on spring break. The one time I <em>don't </em>have to do anything is the one time I don't have any focus. In all honesty, it's glorious to be distractable and get away with it. I'm not being graded or having to meet deadlines, and I'm not getting anything done for anyone else, either. I'm taking the time this week to do <i>anything</i> I want, which is to just be. It's beautiful.<br />
I feel my disinspiration is justified this week.<br />
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But really, I do wish I had the inspiration to write a song right now.Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7589574695648352885.post-33492510809586987812011-10-27T11:15:00.000-07:002011-10-27T11:15:20.360-07:00I may as well...... consider this thing as my own private journal. Nobody ever reads it! (Cue cuss words and innappropriate content)Lexi Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08531041387096719649noreply@blogger.com0