From A Pretty Girl To Another: All In The Head

Dear Pretty Girl's,

In my young years, things came quite easily. It would be so simple to have the lucid vision I used to have as a child. Nothing bothered me except for the lining of my socks and perhaps the taste of a few foods, but other than that...Life was almost perfection. Today, I ask myself why must things be so much harder as you get older?

Is it because there's higher education?

Is it because we learn all about how to use money?
Is it because our eye sight perhaps changes?

I don't think any of these is a good enough reason to explain why our world goes from perfection to corruption. I believe that it is that as we grow our mind grows along with us, from simplicity to complexity. Things start to become a muffled mix of complications. They twist and knot together forming the brain we use to solve equations in math and figure out what's realistic. Life is complicated because we make it complicated. It doesn't have to be perfect but life certainly does not have to be a jumbled up mess.
I excpect you, my readers, will want to know the point I'm trying to make out of this post. It is that I want you to understand that genetics, scholarships, grades, chores, or anything else are not what decide what your life is going to be like. Everything is all IN YOUR HEAD. I have a certain story that can relate to this and although many of you might be sterotypical to cheerleaders, please keep an open mind while I explain the following.
About four years ago, I tested my mind to my biggest obstacle as a cheerleader: throwing myself back ward. I was young and I didn't know how I could possibly do something that seemed ultimately impossible even though I saw the older cheerleaders do it everyday. I learned that it wasn't that life was pausing and not letting me do it, nor was it that my body was physically capable, but I head a mental block. I had started inventing all these crazy realities where I would fall and break my neck even though in order to do that is to not use any of my newly developed upper body strength.
I shouldn't have been so scared, and it took me forever to just do it and move on with my life. Many girl's probably go through that same exact situation using cheerleading either as a metaphor or not as one. The point is that sometimes you just have to go for it and expect something good to come out of it as a result. If not, then you made a mistake and you can learn from it, but you have to just live your life like there's no tomorrow or else when there finally isn't another day, you may be filled with regrets.

Sincerely,
A Pretty Girl

p.s.

Follow me on Tumblr: www.tumblr.com/blog/prettygirluglylies

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A Pretty Girl's Music Choice: Ellie Goulding & The Wanted

Ellie Goulding

&

The Wanted

It's time for me, I think, to introduce two of my new favorite songs! I've decided that every week, I will decided upon two songs and list them on my blog for you to enjoy. So, From A Pretty Girl To You: I give you Ellie Goulding and The Wanted.

This is a small version of Ellie's song. If you want to hear more, look up the song title "Only You" by Ellie Goulding on Pandora, Spotify, Youtube, etc...

This is The Wanted's new single, "I Found You." Listen to the full version here and enjoy it like I did! Let's help make this a bigger hit than "Glad You Came"!

"I Found You" Lyrics:

She wants me to come over
I can tell her eyes don't lie
She's calling me in the dark
She moves us around the room where the lights turn like the sky
Confidence like a rock star

I wanna put my hands on her hands
Feel the heat from her skin
Get reckless in the starlight
I'm moving to the beat of her heart
I was so lost until tonight, tonight

I found you, in the darkest hour
I found you, in a pouring rain
I found you, when I was on my knees
And your love pulled me back again
Found you in a river of pure emotions
I found you, my only truth
I found you, with the music playing

I was lost til I found you, you, you
Til I found you, you, you

The night is getting colder
And I can't come off this high
I don't want this here to end
I know she feels the same
Cause I can see it in her eyes
She says can we start again

I wanna put my hands on her hands
Feel the heat from her skin
Get reckless in the starlight
She's moving to the beat of my heart
We were so lost until tonight, tonight

I found you, in the darkest hour
I found you, in a pouring rain
I found you, when I was all in need
And your love pulled me back again
Found you in a river of pure emotions
I found you, my only truth
I found you, with the music playing

I was lost til I found you, you, you
Til I found you, you, you

I said, people
We're all looking for love tonight
But sometimes we can't see it
We're blinded by light
And we all get low, all get low
Searching for that piece of mind
Just when I've given up
Looking for some kind inside

That's when I found you, you, you
I found you, you, you
I found you, you, you
I found you, you, you

I found you, in the darkest hour
I found you, in a pouring rain
I found you, when I was all in need
And your love pulled me back again
Found you in a river of pure emotions
I found you, my only truth
I found you, with the music playing

I was lost til I found you

Thanks for visiting my blog and feel free to tune in next week for two more songs!

Sincerely,

A Pretty Girl

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Emily: A Girl of Dance.

When things get ugly

DANCE IT OUT.

Emily is a strong girl. She knows the difference between right and wrong. But when it comes to her life, her only escape is dance. She has danced since she was nine and hasn't stopped. Being a paranoid, analytical, and overly stressed out sixteen year old, Emily welcomes the blisters of hard work. They scream to her that she has something to live for, that there is a pathway pathed out and ready for her to walk in the near future.

She snatches her sweat towel from the bench, dabbing her forehead and neck until her instructor calls the group of dancer back to the center of the room. Mrs. Darby, her instructor, pairs Emily up with Sam, a seventeen year old male at least three skill levels above her.
Emily rolls her eyes as he gives her a smug smile.

She hated Sam because he was always so full of himself. He acted like he was the king of dance, but little did he know that Emily would knock him off his reign and soon.
Mrs.Darby plays the music and instructs Emily and Sam to step forward. They do, and knowing the drill they face each other. It was custom that every week the dancers were to be assessed individually and in pairs. In order to be the greatest dancer, Emily knew that meant not only being good by yourself under the spotlight but also being brilliant sharing it.

"Your five minutes to discuss a routine begins," Mrs. Darby says.

Taking control, Emily looks straight into Sam's eyes. "Listen, you may be safe no matter how much you screw up because your dad has connections, but my ass is on the line. So, don't screw me up," Emily makes clear.

Sam smirks, "You think I don't have to work to keep my place?"

"Yeah, and I also think the only reason why you are top notch here is because your dad sleeps with the boss of all of your instructors," Emily says nonchalantly.

Sam shakes his head and holds out his hand to her. Emily takes it in confusion.

"We are ready Mrs.Darby," he calls to the instructor.

"What are you doing?" Emily whispers to him in shock. Had she not made herself clear enough?

"I'm doing you a favor, now follow my lead," Sam says, pulling Emily back against his chest, extending her arms and forcing her leg upward into an aerobesque.

The music starts and Sam lifts Emily off the floor. She follows his lead just like he told her to do, dancing on the floor with grace and flowing with him when he lifts her. Before she knew it, the song was over and her and Sam were in an elaborate ending position. There's clapping from the other dancers and Mrs. Darby, who normally didn't clap for anybody, and there's hoots from some of Sam's guy friends.

"Fantastic!" Mrs. Darby exclaims, "That's the best I've ever seen either of you perform!"

Emily looks up at Sam, who is practically beaming with pride. He looks down at her and laughs at Emily's confused look. She couldn't help it that she wasn't exactly sure what just happened. Everyone is acting like she just saved the world from ending, when really all she did was dance with Sam.

"Why are they all so happy?" Emily whispers to Sam as they take their seats and watch the next two dancers go.

"Because we make the perfect match," Sam says with a wink, and then laughs at her disgusted face, "I'm talking about dancing not dating."

"Well, I don't think so," Emily huffs.

"Oh come on, there's no way you didn't feel our connection out there," Sam says, getting serious, "Listen Emily, you're a good dancer, but you and me...we're great."

Emily admits in her head that there defiantly had been a connection, whether she liked it or not, and she figures that Mrs. Darby is going to pair them together now all the time, which makes her feel sick to her stomach. How is it that her dance match is Sam? She had always heard the stories about how dancers will eventually find their dance match, the partner made from heaven, but Sam was no angel. She crosses her arms and looks him in the eye.

"I agree we had a connection, but that doesn't mean we are friends, got it?" Emily tells him sternly.

Sam chuckles and bows slightly, "Okay, your highness."

Emily begins to ignore him then, and is relieved when the class is over for the day. That is until Mrs. Darby calls both Emily and Sam to come see her after class. Emily grabs her duffel bag and approaches her instructor, waiting to be addressed, but it doesn't seem like Mrs. Darby wants to say anything until Sam is present also. Emily's stomach twists into knots, getting a bad feeling about where this is going.
Finally, Sam is standing beside Emily and Mrs. Darby clears her throat for attention.

"Today, I saw the two of you become one of the most elegant and connected dance pairs I've seen in years," she begins, a smile spreading across her face, "So, I want to promote you both."

Emily's mouth drops, "Oh my god, Mrs. Darby, thank-you!"

"But," Mrs. Darby says, and Emily's smile begins to slip, "I want to promote you both out of the individual classes and into a higher level of partner dancing."

"You want to take me out of my individual classes?" Sam asks, clearly distraught. Everyone knew that that is his best category. All Emily can think about is how pathetic he is to be sad over losing a title of popularity. How could he be so selfish?

"Mrs. Darby, can I not just take the individual classes along with the higher skilled class?" Emily asks,mainly because at least individual dancing meant something to her more than a title. In fact, it had been her entire life since she was a kid.

"Absolutely not! I am responsible for what happens to the both of you as long as you're in my class. I cannot simply have an overworked pair of dancers stepping into my individual classes everyday to work yourselves even more," Mrs. Darby says sternly, "You have to chose one."

"I'll do it," Sam decides, his answer choice almost sounding forced, like he was trying to convince himself it is the right choice to make.

Mrs. Darby nods and then looks at Emily. Emily looks down at her trembling hands, wondering if she could really give up her spotlight that she's worked so hard for. She really thought she might be able to compete in a solo division competition this year and win. But Emily has been waiting for this promotion for months now. Moving to a higher level would mean she had more of a chance of getting into her dream college, Juilliard.

"Fine, I'll give it a try," Emily decides.

Mrs. Darby beams and shoos us both away, "Brilliant, now go rest yourselves before tomorrow morning. Be here at seven a.m. and don't be late!"

Emily and Sam exit the building, one going one way and the other going another way. Emily walks down the sidewalk to her house that's about seven blocks away. She hates that her father hasn't been a good enough dad to take her to get her driver's license yet. He is always too busy to care bout his own daughter. She trudges along, head hanging and depression. Emily felt like a small part of her was just taken away when she decided to give up on her individual dancing career. Had she made the right decision?

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B L O G C H A N G E S

Hey all my Pretty Girls! I'm sure you have all noticed a template change for my blog or as I would like to call it being: BLOG VAMPED! The reason for the change is because we are now officially celebrating! 

Although this weekend is associated with Veterans Day, there's something else rather important happening in my life that NEEDS to be shared! In 17 days, my family and I will be the owners of a home, a home that we've been working our entire life for. Since I can remember, we've moved houses practically every year, but now we will finally have a place of our own; we have a home. 

So, for this celebration the blog has been vamped and I would hope everyone loves the new look! 

Also, I have some more exciting news! I am proud to announce that I've decided to spice up the blog even more to give the viewers, like yourselves, something to look forward to. Beginning December 1st, PrettyGirl.UglyLies is going to host the Blog Ball! It might sound funny and odd, but I'm sure you will all enjoy it through the christmas holidays. Check back daily for more information on the Blog Ball and how you can participate!

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From A Pretty Girl to Another: Dreaming is Believing

My Dear Pretty Girls,

It's important that you all understand what a dream is. I've been wanting to write about dreams for awhile now, and although I don't have much time, I want to share some inspirational thoughts with you.

When we were little, someone would ask us what we anted to be when we grew up and we were always so sure at that age, even if it was something ridiculous like the next Superman. Either way, from the day our eyes were opened up to a world of monumental amounts of possibilities, we began to dream. We began to think about "What can I be?" or "Who can I become?"

But the real question will always be "Will I follow my dream?"

There's a lot of indecisions that go on inside of our heads as we try to think of what we can do to make our lives better. In all honesty, you should work for what you love and love what you have to work for. You do not want to become somebody who goes off getting a college degree in let's just say bussiness when your dream is to create music. It wouldn't make sense if you went to college for something you didn't love. There's no point in wasting your time and money on something that you never have even dreamed about.

I know that when I was young, I knew exactly who I wanted to be. I wanted to be successful and living a life of fortune with the support of my loving family. Behind all that, once I got a little older, I then realized that I had a passion for writing. Anyone who writes knows that finding a starting point is the hardest thing to do. You have to brainstorm, become imaginative, and some up every part of creativity that is hiding within you to write a wonderful story. But, for me, it comes naturally. I love writing. It's my escape. It's my comfort. And I LOVE IT.

The whole reason why I'm writing this is because I want to stress the importance of loving what you do and doing what you love. I'm writing this blog because I think it's important for a girl to realize that the most beautiful person is not only pretty on the outside but magnificent on the inside.

Follow your dreams lovelies.

Sincerely,
A Pretty Girl

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Nastasia's Story: A Loss of Trust.

  Even the prettiest girl's need help.

     The night was young as Nastasia balanced her two choices: smoke the weed or risk undesirable attention from bullies. If she did it right here, right now, Nastasia could make a pact with this crew of druggies to get them to leave her alone, show them that she was better than all of them. Besides, it was just one smoke, how much harm could it really do? Plus, Nastasia had even heard that weed might become legal in some states, so it cannot be that bad for you. She takes the rolled up drug from the sketchy girl in front of her. Her name is Baisley, a short, stout girl and bully to all. Baisley had stoled Nastasia's lunch or lunch money since the third grade, and Nastasia has decided to put an end to it. Baisley had made a compromise. If Nastasia could not be so stuck up and relax with a good high, then Baisley would leave her alone, along with the rest of her bullying crew. 

     Although Nastasia has been an advocate for not doing drugs her entire life, she's decided that one smoke can' hurt. Letting the drug enter her blood stream and make her feel like she's flying, Nastasia watches as Baisley begins clapping.

     "Congratulations, Nasty. Looks like you aren't as big of a snob as I thought you were," Baisley praises, "From this day forward I will not take your lunch or your lunch money."

     Nastasia breathes a sigh of relief and hands the blunt back to Baisley, "Now that that's over with, I need to get going. The parentals will be wondering where I am by now."

     "Fine, have fun with your prissy pants mother and father, Nasty," Baisley shouts as Nastasia makes a quick escape.

     When she gets to her car, Nastasia realizes the drug has made her a little clumsy and decides to sit and wait for the high to leave. She giggles to herself and plays with the car radio, finding the classical music station quite hilarious. A few minutes later, Nastasia is passed out across the driver's and passenger's seats, snoring to heaven. She never knew a drug could make you feel so lousy and exhausted when it wears off. 

     Waking up, Nastasia looks lackadaisically at her surroundings and the night before slowly comes back to her. She scrambles for her cell phone, finding 55 missed calls from both of her parents and 32 new voicemails. Nastasia turns the car on quickly, driving home as fast as possible, and runs to her bedroom when she gets there. Stuffing her face in a pillow, she lets out a muffled scream of frustration. Why had she been so stupid? When her parents found her, she knew she was in for a wiping. She cries silently to herself until her mother walks into the bedroom. Finding her missing daughter, Nastasia's mother embraces her, pratically squeezing the air from Nastasia's lungs. 

     "We thought you were gone forever! How dare you stay out all night and not notify us!" her mother exclaims. 

     "I'm sorry, mom. I should've called as soon as I knew I was going to be out later than usual, but my phone ran out of battery and I hadn't felt too good after some pasta I had for dinner at a restuarant in the Plaza," Nastasia says, trying to cover her lie with some parts of the truth, "I did not feel well enough to drive home."

     "You still could have borrowed a phone!" Her mother cries.

     "It was almost midnight, mom! Did you really want me to just walk to some man or woman I don't know and ask for a phone when it was dark and deserted at the Plaza?" Nastasia says, trying to make a clear point.

     "No, of course not," her mother sighs, "But next time you leave this house, that cell phone is fully charged!"

     "Yes, ma'am."

     After my mother leaves the room, Nastasia takes a few deep breathes to calm herself. How could she lie to her mother about doing something illegal? It was like she hadn't even done anything wrong because her mother wasn't grounding Nastasia for smoking weed. Nastasia lies back down, starting to get a headache, and closes her eyes. How deep of a hole did she just dig with her own mother? How could her mother ever trust Nastasia after one of the biggest lies she has ever told? 

     Now, Nastasia did not even feel like she could trust herself. So, why should her mother trust her? 

************************************

Dear Pretty Girl's,

This is a story I developed about a pretty girl with a very ugly lie. She lost her mother that day in a way worse than death because Nastasia was lying. I realize that all of us have told a lie at some point in time, but some lies are meant to be told. They should not turn into secrets that cannot be told. Just using the drug once influenced Nastasia's self-esteem and confidence to lower. She's now become afraid of her own parents and she cannot trust herself anymore. Once you cannot trust yourself, you know you're at the peak of a very long downward spiral. So, ladies, be drug free. I may not be able to know exactly who does drugs, but I know that I can at least help through my words and examples. 

Trust me ladies, no girl is pretty when she's too tipsy to stand or too high to understand.

Sincerely,

A Pretty Girl

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From A Pretty Girl To You: A Lesson on Confidence.

A Pretty Girl Lesson

There's some things about girls that can just light up a room. Do you ever wonder why some girls are really popular and maybe you're not, even if they aren't as pretty as you? Well, I have your answer! It's all about confidence and the way they present themselves to others. People like girls who smile instead frown, have good days instead of bad days, and respect themselves as much as they would want everyone else to respect them. I'm in high school, and I know how it is with all of those clique's and popular chicks. You might even be one, but don't forget that the more popular you are, the more another person might look up to you. You are a leader and you have to take daring chances while still maintaining a reputation that won't hurt you in the long run. The key will always be confidence. Every girl looks ten times more pretty with their shoulders back, head up, and a smile on their face. It's always good to shine, so do it often and you might just shock yourself when you have people coming up and asking, "Hey, did you do something different today? You look fantastic!"

When I was younger, I was bullied. I had a really tough time with my self-esteem. I guess, I just didn't know who I was yet, and that in itself did not help with my confidence. But, I found a passion in writing and I figured out who I am and who I want to be, and now, I'm making my way toward my dream one step at a time. I love this quote I found by Eleanor Roosevelt and I wish I had found it sooner. If you have ever been bullied then "being bullied" has probably become a fear, and it was not until a few months ago that I realized I had to look that fear in the face.

"We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face... we must do that which we think we cannot." 
-Eleanor Roosevelt 

So, the moral of this message from me to you is that I want you to live without fear, and even when you come across a situation that makes your skin crawl, look at it and throw it in the trash. Just keep a smile on your face and be confident and I promise life will hand you a plate full of victory.

Sincerely,

A Pretty Girl

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