profile exploration

I could never, ever, be an R.A. It’s difficult for me to even put up with girls as friends. Having to deal with them, on a daily basis, as an authoritative figure, seems impossible. Don’t get me wrong, I love my R.A. I think she’s great at her job, but I know I could never ever do it. I’m not really sure if this says much about me, or maybe I’m afraid that it says too much about me.

chipped nail polish

I'm looking down at my hands, and I can't help but notice the pretty pink polish coating my pale nails. I look at my right ring finger and notice the awkward shape; it's callased and shallow on one side because of how hard I grip my pen. Move one over and I see my middle finger. Fuck you is what I think. My pointer is crooked because of the numerous painful jammings between basketball seasons. Thumbs are weird. Period. My eyes drift past both my left pointer and middle, landing on my left ring finger. My prettiest finger, I've always thought. The only thing that might make it look better is a man. With money. And a big, fat, sparkly diamond. Where is that man, I wonder. Where is that man with my big, fat, sparkly diamond? Where are you, man?

a little love letter

You're like my one favorite sweatshirt that never really fits right, but always feels comfortable. Or that time of the morning when the sun hits the window just enough to wake you up, but not too much to piss you off. You're my perfect bottle of red nail polish, and my favorite shade of pink. Even if you were expired milk, I'd swear nothing had ever tasted better. You're like the caramel in my macchiato- the sweetest part, and I love the way you're a little bitter like black coffee. You're my Brand New- the greatest thing I've ever known and the biggest secret I've never wanted to share. I miss you like your peanut butter misses my jelly...


I just need you to know that I’m sorry we can’t be together. If I could have it my way, I’d have all of you, everyday, for only myself. Apparently reality has a little humor in the way she handles my life, and has decided to make the relationship I’d love to share with you as unattainable as possible. I don’t blame her; I wouldn’t want to share you either. So I understand that we can’t do this the way I’d like, but in near time we’ll be close. As the miles which separate us diminish, I pray that you’ll feel me growing closer and the warmth I hope to share with you lights a fire in your heart so strong I can see the flames through your chest and smell the heat on your breath.


Your intelligence is beyond your years, and I think it’s within the simple way you speak I find comfort. I hope you continue to write until your fingers are bloody and blue with age. With a mind like yours, you’ll soon be able to see inspiration in the uninspired, and while you grow and progress with your creativity, I want to be there to watch and experience all the liquid talent you’ll create. You need to know that I believe in your dreams, and I trust that within your passion you will find a success all your own, a success no one except you is worthy of possessing.


Like your fingerprints, you have an identity all your own. I understand that you haven’t ever had it easy, and when it comes to life, this far you’ve had to share the short end of the stick. I’m sorry I couldn’t have been there to dilute the difficulty and ease the pain, but I’m here now; I’ll be here forever. You will always have a home in me, and you must trust me when I tell you that.


Please forgive me for my wrongs. And if you can't forgive me, then at least learn to love me for my rights. And if you're tired of looking, then give me the chance to show you...

xoxo

My dearest Inner Critic,

We define the phrase "love-hate relationship"; I love the begeesus out of you and you hate my stinkin' guts. With time I have found a way out of this vicious circle we've chased eachother through for so long, and I have learned to appreciate and value your wisdom, but to not take it to heart. Like stated, I love you. I love the way you hate how I over use and abuse punctuation. I love the way you hate how I often end sentences with a preposition, and I fucking LOVE the way you hate how repetitive I am. My lovely little critic, I wish I could sing you a love song and have you spit in my guitar case. You're my hero, and I hope you never leave my left lobe.

Hi, I'm Leslie

I like to take black and white pictures, annoy my little sister, and shove 'Nilla Cakesters into my fat mouth.

I'm from Houston, TX- born and raised. I actually have no real reason for heading 48 states away for school. I just tell everyone I think it's really beautiful here.

I once had a dog who I didn't really like. She was really photogenic, though. Now that she's gone, I miss her.

I have two sisters. The older one is too good for me and so is the little one. But I love them both with all of my little heart.

My parents have given me everything I've ever wanted. I'm so proud of my dad, and my mom is the most beautiful person I've ever known.

We live in Indonesia like royalty.

I drive a black Toyota Highlander, and if I didn't have it at school with me, I just might be hanging from my shower rod.

The past 3 years of my life have been the most influential this far. I wouldn't have it any other way, and I'm learning to love them for exactly what they were.

I think I'm one funny mother fucker.