the format.

i was on your porch, the smoke sank into my skin,

so i came inside to be with you.

and we talked all night, 

about everything we could imagine.

'cause in the morning i'll be gone,

and as our eyes start to close,

i turn to you and i let you know that i love you.

well my dad was sick,

and my mom, she cared for him.

her love, it nursed him back to life.

and me, i ran. i couldn't even look at him,

for fear i'd have to say goodbye.

and as i start to leave,

he grabs me by the shoulder and he tells me:

"what's left to lose? you've done enough.

and if you fail well then you fail but not to us,

'cause these last three years, i know they've been hard.

but now it's time to get out of the desert and into the sun;

even if it's alone."

so now here i sit, in a hotel off of sunset;

my thoughts bounce off of sam's guitar.

and that's the way it's been,

ever since we were kids, but now,

now we've got something to prove.

and i, i can see their eyes,

but tell me something, can they see mine?

'cause what's left to lose?

i've done enough.

and if i fail well then i fail but i gave it a shot.

and these last three years, i know they've been hard.

but now it's time to get out of the desert and into the sun;

even if it's alone.

i was on your porch last night, the smoke sank into my skin.

b.

times like these, folks.

i've loved him on and off for four years. four years of intimidation and the kind of deep fear that seeps into your soul and makes you feel as though you are the most inadequate person ever born. four years of me falling in love with different boys and him falling in love with different girls, double dating and discreet flirting. four years of awkward giggles and secret glances, of pathetic jotting of his name in my journal and across the margins of my papers. four years of break-ups and half-consoling trailed with the fear of ruining friendships, breaking barriers, destroying a code; secret hang-outs and text messages destroying us both. months of no talking, trying to be good friends, attempting to make life work without the other. four years of everything and anything that could have happened to us both.

now i wonder how i have lived seventeen years without having him in my life.

it's the times like today when i'm lazily ironing crayons in the front yard as he unwraps crayola after crayola and breaks them into paper cups, the kisses that last anywhere between ten seconds and ten years that make my mind shoot flaming off into the sky and through the atmosphere into an endless galaxy. when country music is blasting his speakers and our voices fill the air, when we are sitting still and his hand finds mind. it's the times where he tickles my sides and bites the back of my legs, where we end up on the floor in a full-blown wrestling match that i may or may not win every single time. (may not). it's his hugs, his cute smile that wrinkles the corners of his eyes in a way that makes me want to kiss them, his nervous laugh and his genuine chuckle that could melt any heart. it's the surprise "i love you's", the kisses on the forehead, and his presence in each one of my dreams.  it's the times when i think, "finally." 

it's times like these, folks.


b.

i mustache you a question, but i'll shave it for later.

this blog right here has always been a secure place where i can type out my many thoughts raging through my head, and there are many, be aware. but lately, nameless people are taking my writing and rudely commenting as though it has something to do with them. for months now, i have been typing simple things that don't actually go through my head, words that haven't been processed in my mind, i have been typing words with no meaning, paragraphs with no feel, the simple words that are, in reality, a bunch of fillers that don't apply to my life in the slightest. i read a friend's post about a kiss and think to myself, "i wish i could write what i feel on my blog." then i realized, this is wrong.

isn't this what a blog is for? i believe a blog is your own right to write whatever comes to your mind. this blog is my right to publish my stories that make me shakey-kneed and shallow-breath-y.  a place where i can write about being in love, even if other people don't agree. i want to be able to write about whatever i want, whenever i want to, and not have the fear that someone is going to get mad or bothered or angry and come at me with a sword.

so here is my conclusion, if you don't like what i write, don't read it. i don't care.

"paper cranes"

b.

well-oiled time machines.

i think this is what my son will look like.

hey, a girl can dream right?

b.

i wonder.

i read a book today that made me strangely tingly inside. i sat still after running my fingers over those final words and wondered if the human being, the author that packed each word with spine-tingling meaning, had completed this quickly. i imagined her in my mind scrawling these words on any write-able material she could scavenge during the great depression, then my mind moved to the image of her thinking out each paragraph, each line, while reading and rereading all of her previous work in search of impeccable perfection.

i wonder if while she wrote, she imagined the story going differently; if she thought of her lover and changed her words so the ending result wouldn't be so revealing. i wonder if she said the words in her mind as she wrote and felt the fluency for herself. i wonder if she realized while composing this work of art how much it would change society, the world even. i wonder if she felt the power her readers feel when they soak in the beauty.  i wonder and wonder. i wonder how anything could be so beautiful, in such a plain way.

b.

well that was interesting.

i like lists. i do. i make a list for almost everything in life. i make shopping lists, to do lists, things i love lists, things i hate lists, lists lists lists. lists give a sense of organization to any amount of information. i love lists.  so let me make you a list of how my day was strange, weird, and awfully interesting. okay? thank you for your time.

why my day was strange, weird, and awfully interesting.

by brittani finlayson

1. it started off with a wedding. it was a good wedding, definitely a good wedding. at the brunch afterwords i sat by some... characters. they were cool. in their own secluded, "i'm strange with long hair and i may or may not ever smile" way.  you know what was also strange? i kinda liked them. 

2. when we got in the car after the wedding, i took off my high heels and put on my good old flip flops. guess what? my flip flops hurt my feet more than my heels. is that normal? because i don't believe so.

3. i went to shopko for my first time ever. pretty sure i wasn't missing much. after seeing the first display, (4 little tiny baby twix for 3 dollars. three dollars, really?) i was pretty perturbed. i guess that maybe ruined my whole "shopko experience" because it wasn't all that like i'd heard on the telly. 

4. i went to a bike race and spoke with possibly the reddest red-head i have ever seen in my entire life. he was pretty cool. it took me a second to get him to smile though, which may or may not have also perturbed me...

5. i got a slurpee and didn't even finish it. that never, ever happens. my name is brittani, and brittani never leaves a slurpee unfinished.

6. i went to my grandma's house to meet my aunt's new boyfriend. i may or may not have said one word to him. okay, we're leaning on the may not have side. i didn't actually feel like talking to him, or even meeting him. instead, i sat in the front room and played claire de lune the entire time. now i have the permanent label as the niece who's weird and antisocial and plays the same song/scale on the out-of-tune piano over and over and over again. it's okay though, i'd rather have that label then be expected to talk to him. just saying.

7. i, without thinking, messaged someone on facebook. it might have been the captain of my high school's varsity football team and the most worshiped man in school. the thing is, i didn't even think long enough to make myself sound good. i typed what was in my head at that moment (quickly, i might add) and sent it away into cyberspace, directly to his computer. fail. fail. fail. pretty sure i nipped any chance of friendship with him in the butt. (apologies to kyle's dad. i prefer "butt" to "bud")

anyway, life is swell.

my ear hurts.

b.

"i love you bud." "i love you more."

last night i was watching my little brother connor and all the little cute things he was doing. i leaned over, gave him a hug, and said, "i love you, bud." without skipping a beat, he smiled and said,
"i love you more."
moments like that in life make everything worthwhile.

b.

letters, missionaries, and other things on my mind.

today, as i was sorting through my mail, i came across a letter addressed to me.  i scanned over the title and address with my finger. miss brittani finlayson. the stamp had been worn from its long trip and the envelope slightly tattered. as i slid my finger under the seal, i realized how much i adore letters. the idea, the feel, the look. i love everything about personal letters.

this little pink envelope brought my ever-changing mind to another topic very prevalent in my life right now: missionaries.  i have a best friend named kyle. he is going on a mission very, very soon.  for a moment the other day, it hit me a little bit how soon he is actually leaving. it was strange to truly realize for the first time that i won't have him here with me for two entire years. he is the boy that i talk to every single day. he's the one that, even though most the time he probably doesn't want to hear it, i tell my problems and fears to. he's the one that helps me through just about everything. he's my adventure buddy. we laugh together, we play together, we do everything together. we love each other.  

the thing that boggles my mind throughout this whole ordeal is how good it is that he's leaving. i know with all my heart that this is what he's supposed to do. if anybody can change people's lives, it's kyle smith. he is the most real, genuine person i know. he never judges, he never is cruel or unkind, he is the most wonderful person on this earth. it makes me so, so happy that he will be able to change so many people's lives and fix so many families eternities. i am so proud of this boy, more than he could ever, ever know.

so i guess here is my conclusion: i'm so proud of him. i love him. he will change so many lives. when he comes back he will be the best man. i know this experience will make him a better husband and a better father. i just have to keep telling myself, "it's only two years, it's only two years, it's only two years." because that's what it is. only two years. and guess what? love can make anything, and i mean anything happen.

b.

mosquito bite.

last night i fell asleep outside on the grass. little buzzing creatures decided that my dozing was an obvious sign that it was now appropriate to feast on my body. i didn't agree, nor do i agree now at this time. in fact, i'm appalled that they would even think to do such a thing to me. i mean, really. who do they think they are? the combination of my constant itching and my severe anger resulted in the construction of a poem about a mosquito. enjoy.

mosquito.

you wait for an unexpecting victim to  come your way,

and suddenly blindside them, making them prey.

you stick your ugly straw into my arm,

siphoning blood as i live on, unalarmed.

suddenly i itch, i scratch at the place,

as my skin rises, and reddens in pace.

the result: uncontrollable itching and scratching and pain,

anger, horror, and cussing the name.

oh mosquito, i hate you. i'm sorry i'm frank,

but to be honest, you're kind of a terrible skank.

if that makes no sense, (which it probably doesn't)

i'll explain to you now, oh fret you mustn't.

we all hate you, so much. you're so mean and plain gross,

who likes a bug that takes more than their dose?

so go away, please. we'd all be so glad,

if you stopped feasting on every young lad.

if i bought a cat, i'd probably name him frank.

b.

what the... back to school?

if we're all going back to school, we better do it in style. here are some basic hittin-the-books necessities and ideas that will keep this school year [hopefully] successful and organized.

first off, for you:

1. maybelline volum' express the colossal. this mascara is my favorite mascara of all time.  it volumizes and lengthens without making your eyelashes feel heavy or sticky. it gives a glossy, put together look to any outfit.

2. extra gum. trust me, i'm a gum connoisseur, and extra gum is by far the best choice.  it truly is the best of both worlds by being extremely long lasting and delivering intense flavor throughout. school is somewhere where you need that extra excitement and entertainment. extra gum is a must-have for the back-to-school season.

3. proactiv solution oil free moisture. who wants to go to school with a dry, flaky face? this featherweight moisturizer sufficiently hydrates your skin without clogging your pores and making your face look greasy.  it has spf 15 for extra protection. anybody can fit it in to their daily facial routine.

4. burt's bees beeswax lip balm. when i am in a stressful environment like school, i tend to pick at my lips. the last thing i want is peeling lips.  this lip balm calms your lips down with soothing peppermint while it moisturizes with natural beeswax. this balm is a necessary addition to your backpack pocket.

next, for your backpack:

1. planner. planners are so important for school. it puts everything you need to remember to do in one organized location. remember every test, assignment, and project for your best academic results.

2. uniball pen. no other pen compares.  this pen creates smooth, even lines every time. your notes will be consistent and decipherable with this pen.

3. composition notebooks. my biggest problem with school is keeping notes organized.  i take good, detailed notes, but they always end up lost. one composition notebook for each class will keep all your notes organized and in chronological order.  plus, you can decorate them for extra spice.

4. the pink pearl. you never run out of pencil, but you always run out of eraser.  the pink pearl takes care of that problem, plus it erases better than most pencil-top erasers. 

now that we have all that under control, happy back-to-school season! let's make this our best year yet!

b.

we heart tim.

tim mcgraw was my first love (besides my daddy). i was the little girl running around in underwear and pigtails singing "don't take the girl." tim was my favorite, tim has always been my favorite, and guess who came to concert in good ol' utah last night? tim. guess who bought this lucky girl tickets? kyle. guess who went and had the absolute best time of her life? me.

i love tim mcgraw.

here are some pictures from the night:

"from the back of that red ragtop, she said please don't stop lovin' me."


b.

p.s. welcome follower #7. we are happy to have you here.

things change, people change.

today at practice i had an epiphany: things change, people change. my friends have changed, i've changed. i think i've almost moved on from the whole high school scene. i am no longer that immature high school girl who cares what other people think. i have realized in the past week how much i actually don't care. at the beginning of summer i would have cared a lot that i was losing a friend; now, i don't. not one bit. maybe that's a bad thing, but i have realized that she isn't a type of friend worth working towards. i feel like my old friends are still stuck in that phase. the phase where the image is better than the quality. if it doesn't look cool to be nice to someone, they sure as heck won't... but if you're cool enough, they'll be your best friend. i hate that. i've moved forward from that. i don't want that in my life.

my best friends are quality people. people who will be nice to everyone... whether it's in style or not.

kindness never goes out of style.

"let go."

b.