A PO-WEM

I wrote this poem.

It's called "Open A Book"

Open the pages of a book and take a look inside.
It could be just as beautiful as God himself supplied.
A book is, for love, a miracle—at least love is implied.
So open the cover of my book and peek, my dear, inside.

Guess What I Found!

My iPod!

Guess where it was!

No seriously, guess.

You're wrong.

It was under my cosmetics bag in my bathroom.

Things That I Realize I Took For Granted: Part V

My iPod :(

It's gone now, and I miss it.

Theme Song

So sometimes I hear a song and I'm like "this song should be my theme song" so then it is.  After The Ex and I broke up, it was "It's Getting Better" by the Beatles.

But now I just re-heard "My Girl's Ex-Boyfriend" by Reliant K, and I was like "dude, this should be my theme song!  But then I realized that it can't, because I don't owe it all to my girl's ex-boyfriend...

Um, and I had a whole idea for this post, but I just realized that it would make me sound really stuck up...  So I'm just not going to post it, and you can go listen to that song yourself and form your own opinion of why I like it so much.

Also, it's a really cute song.  Jes' saying.

iPod

Guys, I lost my iPod.  I'm really, really mad about this.  It's not in my backpack (I've checked three times) and it's not in any pocket of any of my coats.  It's not in my bathroom, it's not in the kitchen near my computer, it's not near the upstairs computer, it's not in my bedroom, and it's not in the laundry room.

I think it was stolen at school.  Either that or I left it somewhere at school, and some nice person picked it up and returned it to the main office.  Maybe.

I don't have enough faith in the world to believe that that's the case, though.

If you stole it, you're a terrible person.  If you know who stole it, and you haven't done anything about it yet, you're a terrible person.

If you've ever stolen anything, you're a terrible person.

I hate you.

I don't think I would be so mad if it weren't break right now.  I feel like it could be in the main office at school, and that's the only place I can't look.  I want it back before we leave for Pennsylvania/Massachusetts, because that is a RIDICULOUSLY LONG CAR RIDE and I basically hate any music my parents play, so I need to be able to blast my ears out with my own music to ignore anything they may choose to play.  I also need to be able to entertain myself during these more-than-thirteen-hours.

Basically, I hate every single one of you.  That is all.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, Cappuccino!

So I was about two miles away from home today when I passed by this point in the road where, a few weeks ago, a skunk had been hit by a car.  It used to smell AWFUL every time I drove past, for at least a week.  So I passed that spot, and sort of realized that it didn't smell bad anymore.  But then I realized that my car didn't really smell good, either.

I really wanted my car to smell good, though, so I stopped at this really nice little coffee shop called Moonwinks and bought a small cappuccino.  Then I put it in my cup holder and drove all the way home, enjoying the smell.

Mmmm...

Oh, now I'm drinking it.  It's pretty good.

Mmm, Cappuccino...

Something over here smells really good...

So right now my counter is covered with flowers.  There are two pots of poinsettias, and then four vases full of flowers I got from people after the shows.  It's like a forest of flowers.  And I breathe through my nose, so I keep getting a wiff of this really good smell.

Only I don't smell it all the time.  Just sometimes.  And guys it smells SO GOOD, and I'm trying to figure out what flower it is.

It took me kind of a while to realize it was the flowers at all, because it smells like some kind of food.  I can't figure out WHAT food, though, because I can't smell it well enough to figure out what it smells like!!

I don't think it's any one flower, either.  I think it's a combination of all of them  I think it might be a combination of these three:

Rose

Whatever this thing is

Maybe it's...a mutated Daisy?

 Anyway, there are also pine needles in the mix, and an Aloe Vera plant hanging out off to the side (though I don't think it has a fragrance).

This is driving me crazy though, seriously.  I want to know what I'm smelling!

Punctuation—It happens in real life!

So as you all know, I was in Little Shop of Horrors as Audrey.  (B.T. Dubs, congrats to the whole cast!  Especially Megan.  I know you're still sneaking around on this blog without actually following me.  I know you're there!)

Anyway, the highlight of my costume for the show was a pair of silver 5" heels.  They made my feet want to die.  They also made me about an inch and a half taller than Boyfriend.  That's not the point.

The point is wearing these shoes is basically suicide.

Our set was pretty cool.  We have a really small stage at my school, so we have to make do with what we have.  We built "Mushnik's Flower Shop" on the stage, with a door to the outside.  On the front of the stage we put a "stoop" which was really just four steps pushed up against the stage.  These steps were made out of old, kinda rough wood.  You know, the kind with knots in it and small gouges along one side...  Also next to the stairs there are wood crates and small barrels on either side.

Well, I have a line that goes "You don't know the half of it.  I deserved a creep like Orin Scrivello, D.D.S."  (At this point in the show SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS Orin's dead.  This line is funny because Audrey is so used to addressing him as "Doctor" or introducing him as "Orin Scrivello, D.D.S." that she does it even after he dies.)

I'm supposed to cross the front of the stage on "you don't know the half of it", walk down a few stairs on "I deserved a creep like" and then sit down on "Orin Scrivello, D.D.S.".  I got to the top of the stairs and was saying "I deserved a creep like Orin Scrivello" when one of my heels got caught in a knot on the top step.  The top step of four.  I managed to blurt out "Orin Scrivello", but at that point I couldn't save myself, and I knew I was falling.  I also knew that if I fell I would land either on the stairs or the old, creaky, splintery crates and barrels to either side of me.

So I didn't fall.

I jumped.

And landed.

And said "D.D.S."

And the audience laughed.

Oh, Megan, I got this for you:

Coffee

You guys, I'm almo—

That right there?  Those three-and-a-half words you just read?  That was the content of this blog post when I found it in my drafts just now.  I have no idea where I was going with it, but I thought I would post it because it's beautiful.

A story I wrote

I wrote this story for my sister, and I thought I would share it with all of you.

All three of you.

All three of my followers, that is.  I'm not counting Megan (clap) who's hiding in the shadows and not following me, but still reading all of my posts.  Like a creeper.

Okay here's my story:

Once upon a time, there was a BEAUTIFUL princess.  She was so beautiful that all the princes in the land wanted to marry her.  But the princess wasn't JUST beautiful.  She was smart, too!  She was so smart that she knew that she didn't need a man to complete her.  She understood the importance of marrying someone to keep the kingdom alive and populated and whatnot, but she didn't want that to be the only reason she married.

Still, her parents kept sending in suitors to encourage her to marry.  She knew her parents wouldn't believe in her concept of love, so she decided to trick—er, craftily deceive—them.  She told them she knew of a man living far away from the kingdom who was looking for a beautiful princess to marry.  The only problem was he was, like, on house arrest or something, so she had to go travel to him.  Her parents agreed to let her go.

The princess traveled for a year, far away to a small village where babies were dying left and right because they were all so hungry.  She found a dying woman who could no longer take care of her three-month-old child.  She told the woman that she would take the child and bring it home with her to be the prince of Castletown. (That's where the princess lives, GAWD.)  The woman agreed, and soon the princess was on her way home again with her new baby son.

But while she was on her way back she, her son, and her horse were all eaten by zombies.  The end.

My dad is adorable!

Before I tell this story, I need to give a little background.

One morning I woke up to find a sticky note on the coffee maker that said "RTG" in my mom's writing.  The coffee pot didn't have any leftover, old cold coffee from the morning before in it, and when I checked, there were fresh grounds in the filter and new water in the...water...compartment.  It really was "RTG".  It was pretty great.  I pressed the button and went about the rest of my morning business.

The next morning the same sign was still there.  The old coffee had been dumped out and there were fresh grounds and new water all ready for their coffee-making purposes.

The next few mornings were all the same in this aspect.  Then one morning I was disappointed.  The sign was still there, but there was old coffee in the coffee pot still.  Hopeful, I checked to make sure my mom hadn't just put in the grounds and forgotten about the water, but no, there were used grounds there, as well.  So I dumped out the grounds and the coffee, filled the machine with new water, and put fresh grounds in the filter.  I can't remember if I left the sign there out of spite, or just accidentally, but the sign was definitely left there.

I think the same thing happened the next morning, but I don't know for sure.  It's not entirely important.  The important thing is that very shortly after The Morning There Was No Coffee, my mom had added "(really)" to the sticky note.  I woke up and found this new addition and thought "hooray, she got the coffee ready!"

Sure enough, when I checked, there were fresh grounds in the filter and water in the water compartment.

I can't remember how long that lasted, but eventually my mom stopped pre-preparing the coffee.  At some point she went out of town and my dad as the only one home, and he either didn't know that she was preparing the coffee, or else he didn't realize that now he should be the one to do it (if anyone was).  Then my dad went out of town, and my mom had been gone long enough that I guess she forgot that she had been doing it, or whatever.

Anyway, I was back to making my own coffee in the morning.

Suffice it to say, I was not expecting this in the morning:

 

 

EPIC SUCCESS!

Oh, Pop.

Educational Videos

I love how a lot of educational videos start off as if they're trying to sell you what they're teaching you about.

I have to watch this video for my online class:
Human Body Systems: The Circulatory System

It starts off talking about why we need the circulatory system, as if it's trying to get me to buy one.  And I'm like "But I already have one..." and they're like "Well good! Keep it!"

And I just sit there listening to them talk about how great the Circulatory System is because I'd feel bad if I told them I don't care and it hurt their feelings.

Eli Kind of Wins

Guys, I dated this guy once.  He sucked.  He sucked so much!  Like, he didn't even eat pie.  He doesn't like pie.  What kind of a person can you be if you don't eat pie?

Clearly not a good one.

Anyway, Eli came over for Thanksgiving today.  I asked him if he wanted pie.  He said sure.  I said "you do like pie, right?"

He said "No, I hate pie, and I'm an inhuman monster."

Kinda like that guy who didn't eat pie and basically was (and kinda still is) an inhuman monster!!

That statement basically made my day.

Thanksgiving!

I wrote another verse for a song my sister and I used to sing.  If you're my sister, you know the tune.  If you're not my sister, you will be so confused.

I think the song's called Ibuprofen.  At least that's what the first verse is about.


Hey guys!  Thanksgiving!
T-H-A-N-K-S-G-iving, GUYS!
Thanksgiving!
Let's eat and hug and sleep and eat more!

Other verses I remember are:

1. Ibuprofen

Ibuprofen,
I-B-U-P-R-O-F-E-N
Ibuprofen,
it stops the pain and stops the swelling.

2. Harry Potter
(This one's short)

Harry Potter
comes out tomorrow night at midnight

3. Christmas
(This one's short too)

It's almost Christmas!
C-H-R-I-S-T-M-A-S

YAAAAAAAAAAAY THANKSGIVING!

Eli's coming over tomorrow, and we're going to watch Star Wars.  Because I've never seen it.

...Please don't kill me, everyone.

SPOILER ALERT!

DOBBY DIES.

Now go see Harry Potter 7, fool.

Aurgh

Aurgh... Today was just one of those days.  You know, the kind where you spend the first half of the day walking around on shin splints instead of trying to make them better, then you sleep under a riser for a few hours, then you follow your boyfriend around like a lost puppy because you think that will make you feel better, but then really it just ends up making you feel more pitiful because people keep giving you these looks that say "you could do better" but you really couldn't do better—and that's not because you're not good enough, because you are.  It's because he really is great, but no one gets that.  You can't just jump up and tell them they're wrong, though, because no one seems to understand that he really is the best you could hope for.

(If you were directed here from Facebook, you know what I'm talking about.)

Dear Eli,

I love you.  That is all.

Love, me.

Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys

My Chemical Romance's new album, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys comes out tomorrow!!

I wonder how many times I can type Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys before my fingers decide to quit.

Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys.  Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys.  Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys.  Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys.

I'm bored of this.

GUYS GUYS GUYS DANGER DAYS: THE TRUE LIVES OF THE FABULOUS KILLJOYS COMES OUT TOMORROW AAAAAHH!!

Yahoo! Answers

So I don't know if you guys know how Yahoo! Answers works.  Here's a quick rundown.

You type in the question you want to ask into the search bar and it brings up a list of other questions similar to yours that have been asked.  If those questions aren't quite what you're looking for you can compose your own question.  Once you do that, it looks at your question and gives you a list of categories that your question could be filed under.  It probably does this by looking at key words in your question and matching it up with key words in the categories.  For instance if you use words like "puppy" and "peeing" in your question, it might bring up the category "pets --> training".

My question was basically how do I get Eli to start acting more like a boyfriend without being pushy.

This is what came up:

 

 Law and Ethics?  How is—Law...and Ethics?  I...what?

Boyfriend Smell

In Science class last year, I learned something pretty interesting.

You know how, when a girl has a boyfriend, she'll take his sweatshirt and wear it so she can smell him?  From now on we'll refer to that smell as the smell of Boyfriend.  Boyfriend Smell.

Anyway, here's what I remember learning:

Five women each smelled five different shirts from five different men.  The women rated the attractiveness of the smell of each shirt.  I'm pretty sure the conclusion was that if the woman's immune system was different from the man's immune system, he would smell good to her.  The way I interpreted that is if I'm immune to viruses A, C, and E, and Eli is immune to viruses B, D, and F, he'll smell good to me.

Which is how I justified putting my head on his shoulder while he had a cold—I'm immune to what he's not, so I won't get sick.

So a girl is dating a boy.  She takes his sweatshirt because it smells good.  Now which came first?  Did she start liking him, and then notice that he smells good?  Hey, extra bonus!

I don't think so.  I think girls are turned on by certain guys' scents.  Just the facts.  (Also I found this) :

"Hands down, the women found the scent of a symmetrical man to be more attractive and desirable, especially if the woman was menstruating."  (They're talking about symmetry, not immune systems, but it's the same idea.)

On the same website, I found this:

"A 2002 study found women prefer the scent of men with genes somewhat similar to their own over the scent of nearly genetically identical or totally dissimilar men."

So like...I...

...am too tired to analyze that.  Boyfriend Smell.  It's hawt.

Things That I Realize I Took For Granted: Part IV

My ability to do things the right way, instead of pretty much okay.

See at the beginning of the year I was really good at budgeting my time and getting the things that needed to be done, done.  Lately though, I think I've been getting a little big-headed.  I look at what I have to do, then look at the ten minutes I have to do it in, and say "this will totally happen".

Sometimes those "things" won't happen.

Such as getting to rehearsal on time, instead of pretty much on time, give or take (mostly give) five minutes.  See, I have to be at rehearsal at 3:45, or earlier.  On Mondays and Wednesday's though I don't have any class after 11:15 am, and I can go home and then go back out for rehearsal.  It takes me about fifteen minutes to get there.  Usually I leave at about 3:20, or even 3:10, but the last three times I've been in that situation I've left at 3:30.  And gotten there at about 3:47.  Or 48.

Those "things" can also include getting to bed at 9 o' frikkin clock, not PRETTY MUCH 9 o' clock.  (And by that I mean 9:40, or 10.  Or 10:30.  Don't.  Judge.  Me.)

The biggest thing though, is making decisions.  I mean, I can make pretty good decisions most of the time, but sometimes they're a little dumb.

Dumb decisions I've made recently:

• Skipped lunch
     —Or rather:
• Drank two cups of coffee and an apple "for lunch".  (I can't decide which is worse; no lunch, or caffeine for lunch.
• Made a hat instead of doing homework
• Decided to go out with a boy who goes to a different school.
     —Let's talk about this one.  This is a guy I only get to see when we're rehearsing for Little Shop.  And the show ends December 5th.  That's 16 days from now, but today's mostly over, so really that's only 15 days.  And we don't have rehearsal every day from now till the show, so I don't even know how much longer I'm going to be seeing him, at least on regularly scheduled occasions.  But hey, he's a sweetie.  And he smells like Boyfriend!

Things That I Realize I Took For Granted: Part III

Clarity.

And by that I mean, people's ability to communicate with clarity.

So Eli and I are dating now.  Finally.  Here's how it happened.

Me: Want to go get hot chocolate?
Him: Uhh, sure.
Me: Okay

-we go-

-blah blah blah civil communications-

Me: Oh my GOD! Are you seriously this oblivious?
Him: Yeah, I know.
Me: Wait you...what?
Him: I mean, isn't this a date?
Me: ...Oh...I guess?
Him: Then aren't we dating?
Me: I wasn't...Are we?
Him: Like...yes?
Me: ...
Him: Would it make you feel better if I changed my relationship status on Facebook?
Me: -facepalm-

If you think that's hard to understand, try to imagine how hard it was for me to understand WHILE IT WAS HAPPENING.

Like, wut...

This is Bob...

 

 

This is Bob.  Bob says "hi"!  This is Bob when the car goes by...

Science, Sentimental Farewells, Snowboarding, and a Song

I kept waking up last night and then not being able to fall asleep.

I hate it when that happens.  Mostly I hate it now because my hamster is nocturnal and her wheel is really squeaky, so whenever I fall asleep I just hear "squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak" from the hamstard, and then sometimes she stops and runs over and crunches on her food, or chews on the bars (which is also really loud and annoying).

So sometime near 4:00 I woke up for the first time.

Digression: Whenever I wake up in the middle of the night, it's always at 4 first, unless I just wake up a little early, then it's like, 6 or 7.  But usually 4.

So when I woke up, I checked the time (hey, ten past 4, what a surprise) then laid awake trying to think of a way to fall back asleep.  Then hamstard went to work chewing on her bars like there was no tomorrow.  Which was ridiculous, because technically it already WAS tomorrow.  Dumbass.

At that point I conducted a scientific experiment (that I saw on Mythbusters).  I covered one eye with both of my hands, then stared at my lamp with the other eye.  When I shut the light off I could see perfectly fine out of the eye that had been covered, but the eye that was looking at the light couldn't see anything.  Also when I opened both eyes at the same time, the eye that had been exposed to the light felt like it had just been poked.

Uhh...  I don't want to talk about it.

So then somehow I fell asleep.  I woke up again at, like, 5, and my mom was saying bye to me (because she's going off on some long business trip of some sort).  I said bye, then fell asleep again.

At that point I had a dream.  It was really short.  I went snowboarding with Lily.  I know she was there, but I don't know if she was snowboarding or skiing or what.  The first time I went down a trail, I did fine.  The second time, I went down the entire thing on my butt (because I hadn't strapped my other foot in the board yet).  I was trying to stop, but I couldn't.  Somehow though, I could still steer.  A little.  I only figured out I could steer when I was dangerously close to dropping off the edge of a green circle into the mouth of a TRIPPLE BLACK DIAMOND!!  Or something.  So I was like "okay, I'll just steer away from the edge."  That plan worked well until it...stopped working.  I slid off the edge and down this icy wall of sheer ice.  Like, straight down.  At some point I guess I hit terminal velocity (you know these things in a dream) and it wasn't even that fast, because when I hit the ground I didn't break anything.  I just sort of kept sliding until I was in front of the lodge.  And one of the art teachers from my school was there.  He was like "what are you doing?" and I was like "I decided to try the Break Your Ass rout".  Somehow I lost a glove on the mountain, and I only discovered that it had been lost when I got home and noticed I was only wearing one glove.  But that's okay, because the other glove was really in the trunk of the car.

Then I guess I went back to the beginning of the dream, because I was at the snowboard rental place with Eli, and the guy was like "regular or goofy?" and I pushed Eli from behind and his left foot went forward so I said "goofy".  That's how snowboarding works.

Also at some point in the dream I found my iPod and put it in my left jeans pocket and was like "there, now I know where it is, and when I wake up I'll still have it!"  ...That's not how that works.  My iPod's still missing.  :(

The next time I woke up, it was like 7.  I had to pee, but I also wanted to just sleep.  It was light enough out that I knew if I got up and started moving around, it'd be harder to fall back asleep.  For a while I just willed myself to go back to sleep, but eventually I realized that wasn't going to work.  At that point, not only had I realized I would have to get up, and therefore have a harder time going back to sleep, but I had also wasted about a half hour of getting-back-to-sleep time.  So I got up and peed.

I think that's when I got the song stuck in my head.  It's a song by Pink (I'm pretty sure) that's on the radio now.  The only lines I know are "so raise your glass if you are wrong in all the right ways" and "won't you come on and, come on and raise your glass".  It's a song that I think I would like if I knew the words to it, but since I don't know the words, it's just kind of this song that's hanging out at the back of my mind, waiting for me to stop thinking long enough for it to move in and take over, halting productivity for a good 10-15 seconds.

Then I woke up at nine, and went downstairs and ate pancakes and drank coffee.  Omnomnom.

Czechoslovakian Cow Chocolate. Also, Alpine Milk? Yum!

So my dad brought me this milk chocolate from the Czech Republic.  (If you ever want to win my heart, buy me milk chocolate.  It's my favorite.)  Anyway, this chocolate is called "Happy Cows".  It came in a purple wrapper with a purple cow on it.  Also, in the lower left-hand corner, there's definitely an icon of the wrapper being unzipped.

Because that's how you open chocolate bars in the Czech Republic.

Also, cows are purple there.  Clearly.

Czech it out! (That's a pun, not a typo, you uncultured swine.)

So I was looking at this chocolate, trying to decide if I should be all giddy because now I have a whole entire bar of "Alpine Milk and White Chocolate" (is that two different things?  White Chocolate and Alpine Milk?) or completely weirded out because, WTF, "Happy Cows Alpine Milk and White Chocolate".  Also that zipper thing is really strange.

Then I flipped it over and thought "Geez, those Czechs are really dumb" because I found another icon.  This one is a detailed diagram—it's color coordinated—of how to open the package.  (Please take a moment to admire the alliteration in that sentence; it's beautiful.)

Ohh, that's how you do it...

That's my quizzical face.  Now that I've uploaded it, I realize it looks more frustrated than quizzical, so I took this one to show you my frustrated face:

I don't think my neck will ever be at that angle again.

Digression over.  Back to the Happy Cow Chocolate.  And the Alpine Milk.  (It's probably even better than Whole Milk!)

So after I got over how dumb the Czechs are, I opened the chocolate bar so that I could have a piece.  (Okay, I opened the chocolate bar wrapper.  You don't open chocolate bars.  You open doors, yes, and jars, and even a wound sometimes, but it's hard to open a chocolate bar.)  When I opened it (the wrapper, that is) I discovered the most amazing discovery that has ever been discovered.  Ever.

This is my "AW HOW CUTE; COW SPOTS" face.

IT HAS COW SPOTS ON IT!

Like, COW SPOTS!  I think it's adorable.

Also, my "AW HOW CUTE; COW SPOTS" face may kind of look like a "MY PUPPY JUST DIED" face.  I'll warrant that someone's "MY PUPPY JUST DIED" face may look like the face I'm making in that picture, however my "MY PUPPY JUST DIED" face looks a little more like this one:

Waaah, my puppy just died!

My puppy didn't really just die.  I'm just a really good actress.

Anyway YEAH, COW SPOTS!

Also guys, I changed my mind.  If you ever want to win my heart, regular milk chocolate won't do.  It has to be Czechoslovakian Cow Chocolate.

Czechoslovakian Cow Chocolate, or no deal.

Things That I Realize I Took For Granted: Part II

My Saturdays.

Seriously.

Now that I'm in Little Shop of Horrors (friggin AUDREY!!) I have literally no free time whatsoever.  I have no social life!

I keep trying to find a time to go rock climbing with my friend, Sierra.  It wouldn't be so hard if I weren't a Junior.  The combination of homework and play rehearsal ends up sucking all of my time away and I basically can't do anything else.

Well I can do some stuff, but only if all of the circumstances are favorable.

If, for example, I just had a math test and in Science we celebrated Mole Day so there's no homework in either of those classes, and in American Lit I only have two chapters to read, and that's not very much at all, and I don't have rehearsal, THEN I could go rock climbing.

So I would be rock climbing today if it weren't for the fact that my Saturdays have been forcibly taken from me by rehearsals.

That is all.

WAFFLES ARE AWESOME

This one time, my friend Sierra and I invented something awesome.  It all started with a simple request...

Her: Come to fencing at 7!
Me: I've got rehearsal 'till 6.  I'll go if you make me dinner.
Her: What do you want?
Me: Whatever you want to make.
Her: PB and J?
Me: Sounds awesome.

-later-

Me: WAFFLES!!
Her: What?
Me: Make me WAFFLES for DINNER!!!
Her: No PB and J?
Me: -realization dawning- Oh...My...God... Make me fucking PB and J WAFFLES!!!

So she did.

It was basically two waffles acting as the bread for a PB and J sandwich.

It.

Was.

AWESOME!!!

Drinking Games

Why drinking games should not have any rules that include drinking if you laugh:

You're welcome.

0C6F5C7B-C4F2-4719-D4AD-4881B9717991

1.03.01

Things That I Realize I Took For Granted: Part I

The Newspaper.

Seriously.

The Ann Arbor newspaper stopped printing.  It's all online now.  That's fine for the environment and everything, I guess, but how the HELL am I supposed to make a pattern for Eli's Halloween costume?  I mean SERIOUSLY!

That's all.

0C6F5C7B-C4F2-4719-D4AD-4881B9717991

1.03.01

The Common Cold

The common cold is really a blessing in disguise, I think.  I mean, I know you get all sick and achy and everything, but when you think about it, it's usually not that bad.

At least for me, when I get the common cold, I have a sore throat and runny nose, and kind of sore muscles, but I'm not downright MISERABLE.

I am, however, just sick enough to stay home from school to get better.  But while I'm at home, after about 11:00 I'm usually feeling fine again, and I can do something productive on my day off, and go back in feeling healthy and refreshed, and accomplished.

Or something.  Maybe I'm just weird because I like being sick.

One Mile Part II

I just went for my second run since starting my online personal fitness class.  If you recall, my last mile run took me nine minutes and fifty-four seconds.  My dad said that was a good time and I believed him.

Well the run I just got back from this time took me nine minutes and one second.  So I cut 53 seconds off my original time!

Of all the ass in the world, I kick the most.

The Road I Live On Has No Speed Limit

Actually that's not true.

The road that my neighborhood is off of has no speed limit.  It's a stretch of road maybe a mile long, maybe a mile and a half.  It has the same name as both of the roads at either end of it.  On of those roads is 50 mph, the other is 45 mph.

I swear to you, I have driven up and down that stretch of road numerous times searching for a speed limit sign of any kind, but to no avail.  I assure you dear readers, THERE IS NO SPEED LIMIT ON THAT ROAD.

And if you say "Yeth but technically you are thuppothed to know what thpeed to go on that road bathed on what kind of road it ith" I will HUNT YOU DOWN.

Seriously guys, that road is awesome.

I Bet He Got Lost

Whenever someone from the electric company or phone company or  something similar has to come to our house to fix them, we try to give them directions.

Us: "So our address is—"
Them: "We have it on record, don't worry."
Us: "No really, any time someone tries to come out here—"
Them: "We know where you are, we'll find it."
Us: "YOU WILL GET LOST."
Them: "We have GPS."
Us: "Yeah, fine."

Invariably, zie always calls and says zie is lost.

Us: Obligingly gives directions.

Now.

At about 3:30-ish, my awesome director called and offered to come drop my script off so that I can look over it before the read-through tomorrow.  My director is much less arrogant than the dumb electric company and phone company and all the other "companies", so he let me give him directions.  (Uh, also he probably doesn't have the resources the "companies" have in the way of knowing our address, so he needed it anyway).

NOTWITHSTANDING, I gave him my address and also the area code that he needs to use to get the correct directions, rather than the technically correct area code that sends us to the other neighborhood with the same name as ours.  The WRONG neighborhood.  I don't even understand how that happens.

Whatever.

When Director and I got off the phone, he said he'd be here around 5:00.

It's 5:30.

I'm waiting for him to call and say he's lost.

Possibly he decided to go to That Boy's house first and drop his script off first, which would be understandable.  Still, the road to turn onto to get into my neighborhood is really hard to see unless you know where it is or you're going like 30 miles an hour, neither of which applies to Director.

See, the road to turn off of has no speed limit, and people frequently drive over 60mph on that road.

Oh, I just got a call from Director.  He says he will NOT be bringing me my script today.  He wants to make copies and blah blah blah.  I think he just looked up the directions to my house and realized that it's out in the middle of nowhere.

Ah well.

Oh...My...God!

You guys...

You guys, you guys, you guys...

You guys, remember how I got a callback for Audrey?  And how THAT BOY got a callback for Seymour?  And how I said that I hope I get Audrey and he gets Seymour?

You guys...

It happened!!

I almost couldn't believe it when I saw it!

There was a whole crowd of us waiting for Quinn (our director) to post the list, so I saw it at the same time as most of everyone else.  When I saw that I had gotten the part, I just picked up my backpack and walked away.  I really didn't know what else to do!  I didn't want to scream or anything, because there were other people there who wanted the part.

But my friend was checking the list too, and as I was walking away I heard her squeak and she ran up and hugged me.

Life is awesome.

I GOT CALLED BACK AS AUDREY!

GUYS I GOT CALLED BACK AS AUDREY!!

I don't know if I can explain how amazing this is.  I mean, I thought I wasn't a good singer!  And I got a callback for the LEAD in the musical!!  The lead!! Aaaaaaaaa!!

Thith ith thuper duper cool, you guyth.

Hey you know what's even cooler?  Remember that guyyyyy?  He's called back for Seymour!

Spoiler, Seymour and Audrey are in love.

Like, seriously, this is my happiest moment.  Of. My. Life.  I am so excited.

I am going to NAIL IT!!

Wish me luck!

(Callbacks are tomorrow from 3:30-6:30)

((Watch Audrey and Seymour being in love here.))

UGHHHH Part II

So that last one was rather vague...  I guess I'll explain myself.

I like Eli, like a lot.  And he knows, and he doesn't care, and he likes Lauren, and she knows, and she doesn't care, and he knows she knows and doesn't care, and he doesn't care, and it seems like the only one who cares is ME!

And it's really sad.  Like, REALLY sad.

Like every time I think about it I get this empty feeling in my stomach.

OCTOBER...

NOVEMBER...

DECEMBER...

JANUARY...

(If you get that, that's just sad.  Unless you're Nicole, then it's not that sad because we were just talking about this.)

Anyway yeah I'm sad and lonely and sad and the next time you see me you should give me a hug and find me a big cuddly boyfriend.

Like Butler.

Dude, if he were like...20...25? 30 years younger he'd be my ideal boyfriend.

Juuuuuust saying.

UGHHHH

UGHHHH!  UUUUGHHHH!

UGHASDFARGH!!

SNARGLEBLAGGOT SNOTLARD!

ASDFASDFASFDASDFASDF.

(It's Eli's fault.)

I Have Nothing To Do Right Now And I Am Incredibly Bored Because Of It

Here I am posting about my boredom at 1:30 because I am hanging out with my friend at 4 and we're meeting at school and I don't want to leave and come back because I'm too lazy to do that.  So I'll be here for another two and a half hours.

FUN TIMES...

My Boots (Sorry, no fur)

Do you all remember the story about my online woes?  Here's the short version, in case you haven't:

I tried to order a pair of boots online but the internet froze up, so I tried again and it said this order was already placed.  I went to the page that showed my orders, and it said there were two orders placed that day, and neither of them were processed correctly.  Or something.

I called customer service and the lady said she'd call me back after the order was processed, which should have been within an hour.  It wasn't.

I called the next day and the guy said that the order should disappear within 4 days.  It didn't.

I called again and the lady said that if the credit card wasn't charged there's nothing to worry about.

So I just ordered the boots again.

AND HERE THEY ARE LOOK AT THEM!!

I don't actually have the boots in my possession; that's just the picture from the website.  BUT THEY ARE HAWT.

Blogger Mobile

So okay I know I said I wasn't going to sign up for Blogger Mobile, but I did.  Because it looked fun, okay?

The first message I sent to Blogger looked like this one my phone:

"Testing, 1, 2, 3.

This is my first text message Blogger blog post! Yaaay! I feel like such a dork right now, by the way. Especially since I said in my last post that I am NOT going to sign up for this...And here I am... -sigh-"

Then I got a message from Blogger that said "Success! Your post made it to your blog greenrave.blogspot.com. Send STOP to stop receiving all SMS."

"Cool," I thought, and went to check my blog.

Well.  Two blog posts had showed up.  I deleted one of them, but they both looked roughly the same.  Here's the other (which I have also deleted):

"(n y ;?Au8?????????r ?d??} ???2(
?]. ?5O??-"

I said "._. I didn't...post that."

Then I looked at my phone, which still had a message of Blogger congratulating me on my blog post, and I looked at my "blog post" and I felt like I was a baby being congratulated on hir first word.

So, I'm going to try it one more time.  Here's what it looks like on my phone:

"I'm going to try this one more time.  Maybe, just maybe, it will work."

And here's what it looks like on my blog:

"I'm going to try this one more time. Maybe, just maybe, it will work."

So it works!!  But I can't title the post from my phone, and besides texting's  not as awesome as sitting down in a big comfy chair and typing out a long story about how my life rocks.

I deleted the post that worked, and I'm probably not going to be posting from my phone ever.  That's what Twitter and Facebook mobile are for.  With them, I can type out a nice, small message and it will go into my status.  With this, a nice, small message looks out of place amidst the massive (and AWESOME) blog posts.

So, I'll leave Blogger Mobile alone.  It's just not for me.

Twitter Will Take Over!

I'm going to start this post off by saying "Yes, I have a Twitter."

Yes, I have a Twitter.

For any of you who don't have a Twitter, I'll give you a run down.  You can post status updates and pictures to your page, and anyone who follows you will see them.  And anyone who wants to follow you can follow you, unless you block them.  You can communicate with other Twitter members directly and indirectly.  You can send private (direct) messages to a user, but only if you follow them and they follow you.  You can also tag any user in a post.  For instance:

"@JohnGallagherJr you're the best actor ever!"

Now John Gallagher Jr. will see that I have said something about him in a post.  I'm not sure exactly how this works.  I'll explain later.

Another cool thing about Twitter is you can post updates from your phone in the form of a text message, and also of the people you follow you can choose which updates will be sent to your mobile phone for whatever it costs you to receive a text message.  I like to have them all sent to my phone, because I don't actually go on Twitter very often.  It doesn't tell you which notifications are new, it just gives you a feed (kind of like Facebook's) of all of the recent updates of whom you follow.

See how I blocked out my username? HA.  But that's what it looks like.

Because I get messages to my phone I don't know exactly what happens when you're tagged in a post, because if one of the people I follow says something about me it goes straight to my phone.  Will have to look into this...

Now to the taking-over-the-world-part of this.  On Facebook you can send status updates from your phone, and you can set it so when someone sends you a message or comments on your photo or status or something, you get a notification sent to your phone.  Something like:

"John Gallagher Jr. commented on your photo.  Ha ha ha that's an awesome face! To receive status updates from John Gallagher Jr. reply with 'status'."

...Wait, what?  To receive status updates from...To my phone?  Like Twitter does?  So you're saying that Facebook will send your friends' status updates to your phone in the exact same way Twitter does?  That's weird...

Now I was on my dashboard page (for Blogger) and noticed a link at the very bottom that said "learn how to start mobile blogging".  I didn't look too far into it, but it looks like it's a way for you to blog from your phone!  I don't want to sign up for this service, so I don't know if you can receive updates from the blogs you follow or not, but if you can't, that ability can't be far off!

You know I'm starting to re-think the angle of this post.  Maybe it's not Twitter that's taking over.  Maybe it's cell phones!

That's probably it.

You see people texting ALL OVER THE PLACE.  Even when they're in a REAL LIFE CONVERSATION with someone!  It drives me nuts.

Sorry to bust your balls, Twitter.  It's not your fault.  I blame cell phones, now.

One Mile

I just ran a mile in 9:54.  I ran two miles with my sister once in ish-20 minutes, and I ran some other time with her and I can't remember how long it took.  So basically yeah, I suck.

Actually that's not true.

I'm comparing myself to my friend Ian, who can run a 6-minute mile.  And he plays water-polo.  And anyway both my parents run/know how long a mile should take, and when I came in and said "Nine minutes and fifty-four seconds!" my dad said "That's really good!"

And my dad doesn't lie.

Like, I took a picture of a squirrel, and I developed it myself and I was all proud of it and stuff, and I brought it home and my dad said "Oh", appreciatively, and then he said "the background looks washed out".

So if 9:54 was bad, he would have told me so.

So I'm proud.

I mean, come on, Dad.

Bats And Hamsters—There's A Distinct Difference

In my American Lit class we read a Native American Naming Story about someone who got her name from watching bats. At the end of the story my teacher said "There's always someone in this class who loves bats. Who is it?" So I raised my hand. I like bats. They're pretty cute!

So Judith (my teacher) called on me and said "Alright, explain it to me. What's the appeal?"

I shrugged and said, "they're like hamsters with wings."

Then followed a very long, very awkward silence, after which Judith turned the page in her book, and began to read the next naming story.

But I mean, come on! Bats are TOTALLY just hamsters with wings!

How Do You All Like My New Layout?

I did some editing of my blog, and I think it looks rather good, don't you? The old background was too black and dark and bad and stuff. This one's better.

Well that's all I have to say about my layout, so now I'm going to talk about OTHER STUFF. Like my calf. My left calf, to be precise. It's on the table. Mind you, my foot isn't on the table. Just the calf. It's stretched across the corner of the table and neither my knee nor my foot are touching the table. My other calf is on a chair underneath the table, and half of my foot is shoved through the slats in said chair. Maybe more like a third of my foot. The third containing my toes and the ball of my foot. Also I'm sitting on a chair, and it's at an angle to the table. About a 45° angle, if you care.

Also I have coffee.

If I were to write a book, I'd love to have someone sitting in this position on hirs computer. The problem with that is how in God's name would I ever describe it? I could say "Zie was sitting at hir computer with hir leg up on the corner of the table", and probably people would be able to picture that well enough, but there is no good way to tell about how my right foot is on the chair, and even if there were one, who would care? No one, that's who.

That's my problem with books. I get waaaay too descriptive of stuff, and then I feel really controlling. See I have this image of exactly what I want my story to look like, and I get really depressed when I can't describe it absolutely perfectly.

I have a really bad prologue to a story, in which these three guys are talking about writing a song. I re-read it sometimes and cringe at myself when Jackson sits down on the chair opposite James and puts his feet up on the table between them. Or something. It's really bad.

Remember that post about how I need to get better at reading, and how I can't ever imagine stuff the way the author intended it? Well I guess I just fail at descriptions altogether, because I can't write them for shit, either.

Weak sauce.

Fall

Everyone has favorites.  Here are some of mine:

Color—green
Band—Green Day
Number—19
Food—sushi
Day—Thursday
Activity—Fencing/Rock Climbing
Season—Fall

I love Fall.  Autumn.  September 22 to December 20.  (Wait, really?)

I love Fall so much.  It's the perfect weather for me.  My biggest weather problem is how easily I get hot.  I can't wear jeans if it's over 65° out.  Farenheit.  That's sad, to me, because I love wearing jeans.  Jeans and a t-shirt is my ideal outfit.  If it were cool enough, I would always wear jeans and a t-shirt.  Always.

And I try to stretch it out for as long as I can, too.  I mean, even when it starts snowing, I'll still go to school in jeans and a t-shirt, with a sweatshirt on.  I don't think I start bringing a coat in until a week before Christmas Break.  Same with boots; I wear my Converse for as long as I possibly can.  And even then I only wear my boots while I'm outside, and then change into my Converse (or slippers, because my school's that awesome) as soon as I get to my locker.

But anyway, Fall.  I love it.  I love walking outside when it's chilly and windy.  I love the smells!  I love standing by a tree when the wind's blowing and trying to catch the leaves that fall.  In my sweater.  My fall sweater.

This is a beige sweater that goes down to above my knees and buttons up, with a faux fur collar and cuffs.  It's pretty neat.  My best friend, Lily, has one too.  I associate that sweater with Fall, too.  And Halloween!  I love Halloween!  This year I'm going to be the Black Canary.  And Thanksgiving!  My sister comes home for Thanksgiving (a'course) and we have FOOD and SISTER and ASIANS—wait...

One of the strangest things I associate with Fall is having a cold.  I mean, all last week I was sick with a cold, and I was so excited because it meant FALL!

Even though it's cold out, and often rainy and gloomy, and a sort of depressing sight, I'm always the happiest during Fall.  I just love it.

Best Friends

If you read my post about my FAIL of a Wing-Man, you'll know about how the boy I like calls me his best friend. "Mentally I love you, but I just can't think of you like that."  UGH.

But you know, maybe being his "best friend" won't be so bad.  I mean, this weekend we already have plans to go to a comic book store and we're also going to try to go see Scott Pilgrim again before it comes out on DVD.  We're also going to get together and watch Iron Man II when it comes out on DVD at the end of this month.

I'm pretty excited to be his "best friend" now.  And hey, who knows!  Maybe there is hope yet...

-mysterious music-

Poodles Are Fun Things

First of all, don't ask.

If you did ask, I hate you.

If you still want to know, my friend Erin and I are both going to write a blog post about the same topic, and at the end we'll see what we can come up with.

Now I should probably take this time to say "Erin is the most awesome, cool, fantabulous person ever and you should all totally follow her!"—after all, isn't that what bloggers do?—but she has about five times as many followers as I do. And she has ten followers.

NEVERTHELESS, if you want to follow her, her blog can be found here: .

Now on to this blog. Thing.

Poodles are fun things.

I guess I'm supposed to talk about poodles being fun things, but I don't really love poodles. Don't get me wrong, dogs are awesome, but since I was a child my father has taught me that if all four feet come off the ground when it barks, it's not a dog. It's more of a...rat.

That's funny; calling it a rat is supposed to be an insult, but actually rats are pretty smart. Or so they say. Now I don't know if rats are smarter than, say, golden retrievers, or german shepherds, or czechoslovakian wolfdogs, but I'd bet my golden penny (SCIENCE) that they're smarter than poodles. Fer realz.

(Update: I just glanced over at Erin's screen [didn't read anything, just glanced] and saw that I've written more than her. I can tell because my scroll-bar is shorter than hers. Mine takes up about half the space available to scroll bars, hers takes up about two thirds.)

I feel a little bad now, because I just realized that four of my neighbors' five dogs have been poodles. (Okay, 3 out of 4 if you don't count their daughter's dog). Anyway, There was O'Mally, Kozmo, Lizzie, and one I don't remember. O'Mally and the other one died when I was like...Six. Or something. I can remember O'Mally biting me on the nose one time, so I must have been older than 3 or 4. (Fun fact, you don't develop a memory until you're 3 or 4). Kozmo died recently, and it was really sad. By the end of his life he had gone blind and deaf, and could hardly walk. One of the saddest things that has ever happened to me was when I was petting him one day, and even though he was always really mean and nasty and bity and awful, he was wagging his tail. I almost cried.

Wait, but that's not fun. I need to talk about FUN! Poodles are FUN!

My neighbors' daughter, Kelly, has a poodle Lizzy. She's fun. My other neighbors, the Fentrises, have a poodle, Amy. Amy's fun. She's BIG, though. I remember my sister telling me a story about Amy.

Once, she and my dad were playing basketball, and the ball went over the fence and into the Fentrises' yard. He told her to just jump the fence and go get it, so she did. Now I think they had just gotten the dog at this point, and my sister was definitely smaller than she is now, and a big dog like Amy was most likely a terrifying sight to behold. I can't remember if my sister said she was actually scared of dogs, or if it was just that Amy was so much bigger than her.

Anyway, my dad decided it would be funny to yell "Nicole, the Fentrises' dog!" and point frantically behind her. This was not so funny to my sister, because apparently she ran as fast as she could toward the fence, throwing the ball to our dad before hopping the fence herself, completely ignoring the door in the fence.

My dad, of course, was joking.

That's fun. That makes poodles fun things, right?

...Right?

Well Erin finished typing a while ago, so I think I should stop, too. She's on my blog now, reading all my others, no doubt waiting for me to click "publish post". Well fine then! Are you happy, Erin?

(Note: Every [EVERY] time I tried to type "Erin" in this post, I first mis-typed it as "Eric". Juuust so you know.)

Choose Your Wing-Man Wisely

So there's this boy. I really like him, needless to say. I mean, he's absolutely perfect for me. Seriously! He's an actor, which is always a plus! And he's genuinely nice to me, and I always find him funny, and I think he's cute and he says I'm pretty and...-sigh-.

Okay bat, sound god. (Inside joke)

My friend was going to be my wing-man, and our goal was that by the end of the night he would at least like me. A little.

But things went HORRIBLY wrong, and now he likes her and my whole world is CRUMBLING to the GROUND!! I mean, he said to me "you're, like, my best friend!"

Okay, so maybe my whole world's not absolutely crumbling to the ground. Not really. But it was still sad.

Being Sick Sucks

You know what sucks? Being sick.

You know what sucks more? Being sick for more than three days.

You know what sucks the MOST? Being sick for SIX days, and counting!

...

You know what's awesome? Getting 32/32 on my Latin quiz, and 15/15 on the extra credit portion.

Chai Latte

Ingredients:

- 3 whole cloves
- 3 whole black peppercorns
- 1 tea bag (I use Chai, but any kind will work)
- 4 tsp sugar
- 1 3" cinnamon stick
- 1 cup of water
- 1 cup of milk

Heat the water up on the stove. When the water's warm (doesn't have to be boiling) add the cloves, peppercorns, tea bag, cinnamon stick and sugar. Stir it together and let it steep until the tea is the color you want. Strain the spices (and tea bag) out and add the milk. Heat it up to the temperature you want and enjoy!

Halloween Woes

Every year I try to come up with a really cool Halloween costume. I always want it to be perfect. This year, my friend is getting a bunch of people together to do a Justice League themed group. He's the Green Arrow, I'm the Black Canary (apparently they're married—I'm not going to get into my excitement about that part). Essentially the costume I'm putting together is going to be biker shorts and a black tank top, or combine those two into a leotard of some kind. On top of that I'll have a black jacket, black boots, and fishnet tights. I'll probably be adding nylons under the tights for warmth's sake.

At the beginning of this quest for a costume, I only had the tights and nylons. Today I bought a black trench-coat that I'll be shortening, and I found a pair of boots online. Here's where it gets annoying. Really this whole post could have been shortened into my complaints about online shipments and customer service representatives, but I wanted to tell you all WHY I want these boots so much. So I need them for Halloween.

Now, I was trying to place the order today. I put in all the information and hit "submit" and the page was trying to load. I sat there for like five minutes and the page hadn't done anything. I quit out of the server and tried again, and the same thing happened—it just sat there trying to load the next page. I let it sit for a while and made myself a chai latte (recipe to follow). Eventually the page loaded, but instead of taking me to the order confirmation page, it said something like "Your order number XXXXXXXX has already been received." I went to my account page and looked at my order history, and the order hadn't shown up. Grr. I called customer service and refreshed the page and the order showed up, but the number wasn't a clickable link, like it usually is.

I waited on hold for customer service for a really long time. They played "Ignorance" by Paramore so many times I think I have all the words memorized. Anyway, while I was waiting I refreshed the page, and another order showed up. When the service representative finally came on, she told me they were the exact same order received twice. I asked her to cancel one of them, and she said "I'm thorry, I can't canthel either of those orderth right now, becauthe the order identification number hath not shown up yet. That meanth the orderth are not in our thythtem yet. They should be in within the hour, and when they are I can give you a call back and we can canthel one of the orderth then." An hour. Fuck you, an hour.

I don't even know how long it's been, but I've been checking my order status and they haven't turned into clickable links yet (when they're links that means they've been processed and the lady will be able to cancel one of them).

I'm really frustrated right now, because I can't really start on any kind of project right now (like making a duct-tape messenger bag, or brewing some cream soda) because I'll have to stop whatever I'm doing and just let it sit there while I talk to the lady. I can't just leave the Cream Soda sitting there if I get into the bottling process, because everything has to be sterilized. I could start making a duct-tape messenger bag, but I don't have the duct-tape right now, so I'd have to go out and buy that, and I want to be home when she calls.

I don't want to get up and go to the bathroom either, because if she calls and I'm in the bathroom...I'm done thinking about that.

Basically I have to just sit here and talk about random things that I think people will find interesting.

You probably don't care. Unless you've made it this far through my post! In that case, I'm proud of you!

Now I'm going to go post a recipe for a chai latte. Read that one if you want, also!

I Need To Learn How To Read

Sometimes when I'm reading a book, the descriptions are lost on me. Sometimes I miss them entirely and I create new descriptions. That happened to me when I was reading Harry Potter for the first time (I think I've only read the first and last three). When I read the first three my reading skills were still developing, and I couldn't really process information. I'm pretty sure Harry was blond in my first mental image of him.

Sometimes I ignore the descriptions on purpose. Captain Holly Short will never have a crew cut. Never. Whenever I imagine her with a crew cut, her awesomeness level drops a little. And I don't know about you, but I find it hard to imagine Butler being 50+ years old, even though the book mentions it every twelve seconds. He's always going to be mid-30's to me.

And am I the only one who finds those white fruits with red insides freaky? The juice is described as warm and soft, and maybe sweet. Warm and soft definitely sound like human flesh adjectives, and after that, sweet just makes it terrifying. The faeries are EATING humans. But you know, I wouldn't put it past the Unseelie court.

I think every book should be published with a list of characters and their descriptions—and maybe even an artist's rendition—in the back of the book. It would make my life a whole lot easier.

On that note, I'm way excited for the Artemis Fowl movie, but I'm also not looking forward to it because then I'm going to have to see 50+ Butler and Crew-Cut Holly. And Mulch Diggum. I'm really not looking forward to Mulch.

The Tearing Up Pieces Of Paper Game

There is a game I like to play, called The Tearing Up Pieces of Paper Game. My uncle gave it a different name. It was some kind of combination of Taboo, Charades, and Buzz Word. I think. I'm not sure about Buzz Word, maybe that and Taboo are the same thing. Anyway, the game originally has three rounds (but more can be added). First, every player tears up a few pieces of paper and writes words down on them. Usually every player gets five words each or so, depending on how long you want the game to be.

ROUND ONE: Taboo

A player has one minute to describe the word or phrase he/she pulled out of the hat. Simple as that. Score is kept on the number of words each team guessed. (There can be any number of teams, any size). A round ends when all the words are gone.

ROUND TWO: Charades

All the words go back in, and the players take turns acting out the words in the hat. Score, etc.

ROUND THREE: Single Word Association

A player can only say one word—ONE WORD—to make their team-mates guess the word on the paper.

ALTERNATIVE ROUNDS:

Pictionary

...That's all I can think of.

XD If you have any questions or anything, you can like comment and I'll try to answer you :)

Oopsies

It's been a while since I posted anything at all, so...here's something.

ONCE UPON A TIME I suck. The end.

Sweetwaters

My high school is located almost in the center of downtown. Well not the exact center, but pretty near. Right across the street from my school is a place called Kerrytown Shops. There's a Sweetwaters there, a place called Sparrow Market, a fish place, and a restaurant. There's also a wine shop and some other things upstairs, but I don't go into those places. Right now I'm sitting in Sweetwaters with a coffee and waiting for my dad to come pick me up.

Weirdest Dream

Two nights ago I had a strange dream. There were two "sides", one was supposed to be good, the other was supposed to be evil. On the "evil" side was my ex (we'll call him Joe), a different boy from Joe's school (Tim), a girl from a fencing class I used to help teach (Sarah), and some random older guy. He'll be called Mr. Oldguy. On my side, the good side, was me, my boyfriend (Fred), and a boy who graduated from my high school this semester (Bob). Fred wasn't really in the dream too much; that is Dream Me knew he was there, but looking back I can't really remember seeing him. Basically the two sides were running around on top of the Enterprise (at least I think it was the Enterprise...It looked like someone had set up an obstacle course on top of it) with guns, shooting each other. The problem was, Bob and I had guns with GameCube controller wires that had to plug into a GameCube outlet to work. I don't think our guns ever worked. Well Bob and I spent the duration of the dream running around looking for outlets and getting shot at, until I woke up. If it weren't for last night's dream, I'd be pretty sure Bob was still stuck in dreamland getting shot at.

Last night's dream was less obscure, but weird still in the fact that Bob was in it again. This time, we were in our History class from last semester. This semester I'm in a different History class, and he's not at the school anymore. Well we were there in class, and our teacher left and said we were in charge, or something. Bob and I were the only ones there. Somehow we ended up standing by a brick wall, spraying each other with hoses. When the hose war finished, Bob and I were laughing really hard and rolling around on the floor and stuff. He said “I love you” in the way you say it to your best friend when she says something funny. Well maybe you all don’t do that, but I do.