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.