Sew me softly.

Sometimes. I wear my shirt inside out.
Sometimes people notice. Other times, people don't.

"Hey Sam. Your shirt is inside out.

I can see your seam."

I think to myself:

I wish you could.

A shirt can be made out of beautiful fabric. 

But until it is sewn together, it is nothing but cloth.

It only has potential. 

I wish we could wear ourselves inside out.

So you could see the things that keep me together.

Or that can tear me apart.

All we really are, are pieces of cloth strung together hanging onto the hanger

for dear life.

Hoping somebody accepts us.

Some of us sell ourselves short, making us cheaper. 

So we persuade people by our cheapness and how easy we are to get. 

Even though we are one of the most 

beautiful pieces of clothing.

Even though the hands that made us, made us with care.

We just want to be bought. 

We just want to be worn. 

Felt love.

But the wearer doesn't really love you.

The wearer loves how cheap you were. How easily bought. 

No struggle to scavenge for money. 

The cloth we once were.

Full of color and brilliance. 

Is not appreciated. 

The time taken to sew each piece together is forgotten.

Sometimes. Never even noticed.  

If your wearer wore you inside out what would people see?

Better question is, what wouldn't they see?

They couldn't judge you because of your stretch marks or birth marks.

No longer are your scratched out names painted in ink shown.

The anger resulting in scars are no longer on display.

Just you. And your seams. 

The things that make you who you are.

Whether bad or good.

Whether uplifting or disappointing.

It is you. 

You can't cover yourself up by being the most elaborate shirt, if the shirt won't stay together.

 Customers may think you are beautiful in the beginning. 

But they soon realize what makes you, you.

Bad stitches. 

Luckily in both situations there is a chance.

A chance to be the most highly glorified shirt.

You can realize your worth. 

Go to a different store.

Be bought by people who care.

The fashionista. 

The model.

The designer.

Or you can make yourself better.

Go to a seamstress. 

Receive a good seam. 

Have beauty inside and out. 

We are all the same. 

Hanging on to the cold hanger. Waiting for a warm body to appreciate us.

But.

Somebody already does.

That little girl on the other side of the glass.

Window shopping.

She sees your beauty.

Wait for her.

In a few years she will be able to drive her scarlet bug to your store

and wear you the way you deserve to be worn.

She's there. 

You're just to busy making note of other's designs and patterns to notice her.

Start looking out the window. 

Realize that girl is waiting for you.

Saving up her money.

Wait for her.

Don't go on sale. 

Don't fool people.

She's worth it.

She wants to love you.

But she can't unless you are still there when she can drive.

Imagine the excitement you would feel.

Seeing her scarlet bug pull up in front of your window.

No longer waiting.

But it was worth the wait.

The hard work for the seams was worth it.

The simplicity of going on sale denied.

Patience.

And hard work.

That's all we need as a shirt with good seams.
Because good seams are worth it.

-The girl falling apart.

Ps.

If your name starts with B

Ends with rit

And another t.

Then you my dear. My twin. My harry potter fanatic. Need to drop that AP Bio.

XOXOXO

Phone

Right now. I'm on my phone. Typing this.
Isn't it amazing that I can be laying in my bed, and blogging at the same time?! Technology is great. Simply great.
Well sadly I know that I haven't written on my blog for quite some time. But it's been a hard while for me. I would explain, but it's way too long. So in the future I'll have a whole blog post all about it. But long story short, my brain lives in hell almost everyday because of my darn chronic migraines. But that's okay and that's life.

Anyways. I'm a senior now, and actually have been for a while now. And let me tell you I was sick of it by the end of day one.

"Oh Sam! You're gonna love being a senior! It's the best year."
Shut your mouth!
Dear future seniors: (and not like senior citizens...) (but if you are a senior citizen and know how to work the Internet without forwarding a billion emails, then good for you! You're one step ahead from my grandparents!) (ps. Will someone tell my grandma that I don't want an email about a horse? I don't like them.) IT'S A TRAP!
XOXO Sam.
Seriously though. On the first day, you think you're so cool. I mean you're the oldest now! You rule the school! Then you look down, and you realize who you rule. You rule your old lame tenth grade self. But like way shorter. (They get shorter every year) Don't say you weren't lame during your sophomore year. Because we all were. Here's some pretty cool examples..
1. I never wore my hair up to school.
2. A kid told me he loved me right after our first kiss.
3. My backpack was hanging down to my butt.
4. I never wore sweats.
HA! What a joke now.
1. Now, I don't even look at myself in the mirror on most days. Nobody is worth the fuss at my school. Heck, Bryce isn't worth the fuss on some days. Sorry Bryce, but you go to college! (Why yes! Yes reader Bryce and I are still together. Crazy huh?more on that later though...)
2. Dear kid that said that: please take a serious look at yourself and pray to heavens above that you don't do that again. Now, don't think that I'm saying you can't be in love at a young age. Heck I started dating the man I love at age 16. But really? That was kinda quick, don't you think? I mean, I know I'm insanely charming and enchanting, but come on!
3. That was cool when you were in sixth grade. Wait, no. One arming it was the cool thing to do. Didn't we all do this? Have our backpack straps loosened all the way down that they wobbled to and fro. We could tie them in a knot we could tie them in a bow. Ha.... That's kind of lame. And how can that be healthy for your back?! It's not. And if I was a principal I would ban it for eternity. Yup, even in heaven.
4. Idiot move right there. Sweats are Gods gift to men, but mostly me. And it's that simple.

So peace and see y'all tomorrow.
Sasasasam

Ps. Here's a Mickey Mouse waffle I tried to make. It turned into a pancake. I call it a paffle. Amen

Senior Sam.

Senior. 
Senior Sam.
Holy moly.
This is the day.
Well.... actually tomorrow is the day.
Tomorrow I start school.
And I will "enjoy" all my classes.
Wanna hear my classes? ( In no particular order)

AP Psychology

Prostart ( Advanced foods) 

AP English Language

AP Art History

Physics

Lifetime Activities

Sociology

Debate (including team)

AP Calculus

And to top off with 

EARLY MORNING SEMINARY!

(Please remember I only have eight classes a semester. So thus some of these classes are only one semester long)

I know I know! 

Sam?! What are you doing to yourself?! How can you go on? 

Trust me, I'm sitting here in despair wondering why also.

But all of these classes are interesting to me. 

Except for AP Calc. That is stupid to me.

But what's not so stupid is if I pass I don't have to take any math in college. 

Holla!

Poor Bryce will never see me again.

I will be buried in my books until the moon rises on the 12th blue sun.  (Totally channeling my inner Native American for that sentence.)

So 

As I did last year I'm going to use my blog to procrastinate and write mindless things that somehow attracts people to read it. 

If you are reading this, you have fallen into my trap.

Muahaha.

But it's almost ten, and I have to wake up at five for...

EARLY MORNING SEMINARY!

(So trying to fake a happy attitude right now...) 

Woohoo!

woo!

wo...

w. :(

Pray for me. And my senior year.

I'll have an update tomorrow! 

Until then, look at this picture of my father being a bunny whisper.

Oh yeah.

I got a bunny!

Yippity Hippity!

See you tomorrow.

Dun Dun Dun.

-Senior Sam.

Welcome back.

Hola!

So glad I'm back,

And I hope you are also.

There are so many things that you and I need to discuss and I have all the time in the world to discuss it. Becauseee Bryce is out of town for a good week. So you and I will be getting to know each other a little better. 

Remember that young man that you and I found around October?

I then started to hang with him and eventually we went to a fancy dance and wore fancy clothes in January?

Well that boy and I still enjoy each other more than other human beings that live on this earth.

Well.

In this short amount of time that you have been gone. Or. I have been gone. A lot has happened. 

We took multiple pictures

with my phone.

Including 

this

one.

With his dear twin.

Jennifer.

Didn't know he had a twin did ya?

We went on a hike.

In the gully behind his brand new house.

I bought him this shirt.

In Moab.

Scroll down.

We went to the greatest little/not so little

town called 

Moab.

 

We had a blast.

My family are prestigious jeepers. 

And we thought we would let my dear boyfriend come with us down to Moab.

Before you judge me..

It wasn't scandalous in anyway possible.

He slept on a couch.

I slept in my room.

If you are thinking this is way weird please just stop.

It was my whole family that went down.

It wasn't anything crazy.

We were jeeping, getting dirty. I wasn't hot in anyway possible.

It was like camping. But not.

So don't judge us.

Please.

Anyways. It was so fun!

His family came down for the last day and whipped out their dirt bikes.

It was just grand.

I love jeeping.

And that green trucker hat that I'm sporting: totally made that. I know I know.

It's hot.

We went to a Jazz game.

Lower bowl.

All because we did my favorite thing in the world.

Bought clothes.

So we went to Fanzz.

Or whatever that dear sports store is.

And they gave us free tickets for being good lookin'

Kidding about that good looking part.

But not about the free tickets part.

I put his hair up cute like.

PS. My little sister Gracie in

the background makes this picture amazing.

I have officially changed my name to life size pillow.

This was after Bryce got his poor wisdom teeth removed.

Why would you want to get rid of wisdom? Especially in teeth.

Silly dentist. 

Speaking of wisdom teeth removal...

Trust me. Watch both of them.
It's so worth it.

Told you it was worth it.

You love me now don't you?

Bye Baby!

-Sammay.

I'm Not Dead. Yet.

Oh heavens.
Hello, my name is Sam. And I do not know if you remember me.
There is a slight possibility that you don't. And if that is the case,
Then throw me into the river and call me Donald. 
I am so sorry that I have been gone.
I had to do something for myself though. Not that this blog isn't for me. But I had to focus on my school work. I am so overly stressed that I feel as if I need to use the correct punctuation marks on my blog post. When, as you know, is never the circumstance. School has gotten to me. And I want to cry. Today is May 23rd. Only two more days til freedom and Summer. Yet, I feel like it is coming way to fast, and my days of fixing my grades are dwindling right in front of my "not so perfect without contacts" vision. I'm a junior in high school. Next year is it. That it. Senior year. Then they throw me into the real world and don't give me a second chance.
If you know any second grader that is willing to trade me lives please contact me at: 1800-helpsam. 


I seriously am so scared for the future.

Here are some things that you may have missed in my recent and long absence.

School. Well. You didn't really miss out on anything.
Prom.
Moab.

and honestly. That's about it.

I'm living a pretty busy life right now. But at the same time. I'm not really doing anything.

Right now. I have finals to study my head organ out on. ps. that's the brain.
So I just wrote this to tell you that I am alive.

I have many things to ramble on about. Waking up at 5 o'clock every morning. My new look. Bryce - yes dear bloggers, still going strong. My junior year. Summer jobs. Weight. And much more.

I PROMISE. I'll be back. I will.
In T-minus never really understood what that means. Do you? two days. I will be typing up a good o'e "I'm a teenage girl sarcastically talking about how usually great my life sometimes is" post.

In the mean time look at this picture of me and pray. Because dearies. I will not be this pretty for the next couple days of finals. My outer beauty is slowly dwindling as my eyes rest upon a new test. 

Oh. And on Saturday, I'll show you what I've been really looking like this week. Sheesh. Don't cry.

Tootles.
Mrs. Jean