1. Being 6 cents short to buy one song on iTunes.
2. When people don't listen.
3. That sound that old people can't hear.
4. Twilight.
5. Girls my age that dress like prostitutes.
6. That "Everybody Knows You Cried Last Night" is about prostitutes so I can't do it for my English song project.
7. My feet.
8. PMS. Yep, I went there.*
9. When it's freaking April 30 and it's still not warm and sunny.
10. Being too lazy to go eat something.
11. When the "Large Brew Size" Keurig cups only fill up about 3/4 of a regular mug.
12. When white kids try to be "gangsta".
13. People who just don't get it.
14. Being confused about whether or not my letters of recomendation actually made it to the zoo or not.
15. Not knowing if I spelled "recomendation" right. Which I'm pretty sure I didn't.
16. Not being able to spell anymore.
17. That the AP Gov national exam is in less than 2 weeks.
18. When somebody drops an ice cube on the floor and then I step on it in my socks.
19. When my socks don't slide on the kitchen floor.
20. Ruffles.
21. Potato chips.
22. People who try way too hard to be cool.
23. Thinking of something first, and then someone else does it and then when you do it it looks like you copied that person and nobody knows that you had the idea first.
24. Knowing that the above is probably a very mangled and confusing sentence.
25. Having way too many things I hate and having to stop here so nobody thinks I'm crazy.
*I don't actually have PMS right now. I just hate it.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Why Girls Have it Better
After my dissappointingly crappy post yesterday (as in, immediately after I wrote it) I began to think of ways to redeem myself. I'd been reading cracked.com articles for about two hours, which really kind of gets creative juices flowing. For those of you who are familiar with Cracked, you may think I'm off my rocker a bit. For those of you who are not, I direct thee here. Excuse the mild language and sexual references, because behind that are some seriously funny articles written by sardonic people that make the subjects interesting. So anyway, for today's post, I was inspired by an article about video games (here). It was saying how one reason it's not cool to be a gamer is that they're marketed towards 17-year-old douchebags, in that some of them are filled with lite porn and sexual references. I agree. I mean, seriously, you've all seen the commercials. That right there is objectifying women, I thought. And then, it hit me. What about the men? Sure, they don't get passed off as sew objects, but women really do have it a heck of a lot easier in some cases. Here's why, mostly pertaining to teenage boys.
1. Bathing suits. Sure, you've all seen the girls on the beach in skanky bikinis, showing off their goods. But at least we have a choice to wear a one piece or a tankini or something less promiscuous. Girls choose to strip down that far. So here's my point: guys have one style of bathing suit. Every single person reading this has seen the fat kid on the beach or at the pool who just does not look good with his shirt off. But that poor kid has no choice in the matter. There's no bathing suit for men that covers up his substantial girth, and if he wears a t-shirt he'll get made fun of. He has no choice but to wear something he probably feels uncomfortable in.
2. Skin. When puberty hits you like a wrecking ball, your face breaks out like a mad prisoner from a jail cell. Thankfully for girls, we have all this awesome stuff called makeup that hides the blemishes. Guys do not have makeup. If guys wear makeup and people notice, they get ripped on for being gay when all they were trying to do was cover up some of that nasty acne. You know the kind of nasty acne I'm talking about. It sucks. And boys can't just cover it up with cover-up.
3. Height. This one just kind of sucks, because there's not anything anyone can do about it. That wrecking ball hits all the girls first, so they get taller and fill out while the boys are left short little gangly things that still sound like Mickey Mouse.
4. Individuality. Girls can get away with dressing off the norm, not doing sports, and otherwise being different. If a guy tries to dress differently than everyone else, people assume he's gay. Or just weird. If a guy isn't into sports, he's a dork or a geek and people pay less attention to him. Boys have a far narrower margin as to what is accepted as normal and okay.
5. Support. We ladies have armies upon armies of people lined up to get us through our teen and young adult years. There are piles of magazines and websites out there for women that are filled to the brim with advice on romance and fashion and health. Um, HELLO? Where's the Seventeen for guys?? Are they not allowed to have problems or something? Are they expected to just deal with their issues and pretend they're not confused about everything? That's why it's up to us girls to casually dish out the tips. At least, that's what I think. Who else is going to tell them that their hair looks good like that or that color looks nice on him?
There you have it, folks. Hard proof that girls are better. Or at least have it better. Same thing.
1. Bathing suits. Sure, you've all seen the girls on the beach in skanky bikinis, showing off their goods. But at least we have a choice to wear a one piece or a tankini or something less promiscuous. Girls choose to strip down that far. So here's my point: guys have one style of bathing suit. Every single person reading this has seen the fat kid on the beach or at the pool who just does not look good with his shirt off. But that poor kid has no choice in the matter. There's no bathing suit for men that covers up his substantial girth, and if he wears a t-shirt he'll get made fun of. He has no choice but to wear something he probably feels uncomfortable in.
2. Skin. When puberty hits you like a wrecking ball, your face breaks out like a mad prisoner from a jail cell. Thankfully for girls, we have all this awesome stuff called makeup that hides the blemishes. Guys do not have makeup. If guys wear makeup and people notice, they get ripped on for being gay when all they were trying to do was cover up some of that nasty acne. You know the kind of nasty acne I'm talking about. It sucks. And boys can't just cover it up with cover-up.
3. Height. This one just kind of sucks, because there's not anything anyone can do about it. That wrecking ball hits all the girls first, so they get taller and fill out while the boys are left short little gangly things that still sound like Mickey Mouse.
4. Individuality. Girls can get away with dressing off the norm, not doing sports, and otherwise being different. If a guy tries to dress differently than everyone else, people assume he's gay. Or just weird. If a guy isn't into sports, he's a dork or a geek and people pay less attention to him. Boys have a far narrower margin as to what is accepted as normal and okay.
5. Support. We ladies have armies upon armies of people lined up to get us through our teen and young adult years. There are piles of magazines and websites out there for women that are filled to the brim with advice on romance and fashion and health. Um, HELLO? Where's the Seventeen for guys?? Are they not allowed to have problems or something? Are they expected to just deal with their issues and pretend they're not confused about everything? That's why it's up to us girls to casually dish out the tips. At least, that's what I think. Who else is going to tell them that their hair looks good like that or that color looks nice on him?
There you have it, folks. Hard proof that girls are better. Or at least have it better. Same thing.
Monday, April 25, 2011
I have Easter hangover.
My head hurts and stuff. So, I'm not really totally in the mood to blog currently. However, I don't have school tomorrow, which is really cool. I'm gonna go shower and go to bed and hopefully feel better tomorrow. Enjoy this picture of a knitted Snooki that I added to make this look longer. Kinda cute, huh? If you're still looking for something to do because you're bored so you decided to read this, check out cracked.com or something.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Buzz.
Good morning, all. It's 7:36 a.m., and I am happy as a clam in pajamas. There is a large mug of coffee to my right, Easter breakfast at church is in the very near future, and today will be filled with food and family and hopefully fun. There are also three teenage boys sleeping in my living room. There were four teenage boys sleeping in my living room, but one of them (my brother, that is) had to go play his bass at another church. Ahem. Loser. Ahem. My stomach is growling, and I am picturing the heaps of bacon and eggs and toast and other breakfast-y things I will soon be consuming. Actually, I'm not totally sure of the fare, having never been driven enough to get up extra early on Easter Sunday to go eat breakfast. But I'm excited. It's all cool. There will be a family gathering later on, which will most likely involve Grandma's cheesy hashbrowns. Yeah, I really need to start running. Thankfully, I'll see my aunt today and we'll discuss training for the impending cross country season. I will try very hard to pay utmost attention to the sermon this morning, but my brain is already soaking up the coffee like an enormous pink sponge. (Did you also catch that subtle hint that my brain is enormous? wink wink). I officially have nothing better to do other than this, but I'm kind of out of things to say. My brother's *cough cough* "girlfriend" still isn't his girlfriend, even after Prom. I have yet to find the camera he borrowed from me to take pictures. I'm just going to sit here staring at the screen until my dad is ready to go. And maybe I'll pee. That coffee really is going right through me. And I'll write a sentence when inspiration strikes. I still haven't done any of my homework. That might be a problem. I'm not actually sure how large this family gathering will be, seeing as apparently most of my family is out of town. I guess we'll see. It might just be my branch and my grandma. Yep. I suppose we'll figure it out. Now I'm kind of wondering when the teenage boys in my living room are getting up and going home. Awwwww, my coffee is gone. Now comes the serious question: am I desperate enough to drink crappy church coffee? That really depends. Ooh, I here the stirring of teenagers. Okay, well, I'm actually going to stop typing these sentences of randomness and get my butt out of this chair to go find some suitable shoes. Happy Easter, all.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
My Mom is Cool.
Apparently my video game haze did not last as long as I figured. I'm having some trouble wording this, to be honest, and I'm not totally sure why. Perhaps my brain is slowly shutting down, repeatedly slamming on the "SLEEP, YOU IDIOT!" button. It's okay, though, because tomorrow, for the first time in forty days, I will be drinking coffee. I'll probably be in a caffeine craze for most of the day, Easter-ing it up at top speed. It's an exciting prospect.
Today's post comes to you in two parts. Part one: a summary of my day so far. Part two: a movie review. Yes, that rhymes. I'm a poet and I didn't even know it, and all that crap.
After being rescued from the clutches of two six year olds and Lego Batman, my mom and I spent a significant amount of time driving around downtown. Unintentionally, of course. Basically every street in the downtown area is one-way, so if you can't find a parking spot or forget that you have to deposit the checks, you could find yourself driving around in circles for a while. All that driving was famishing, so we got some fast food and then stopped at the car wash to get the van cleaned for my brother's Prom. We had a small picnic on the grass island outside Quality and talked about education and diversity. My mother and I always seem to fall into intellectual conversations with each other, whether we mean to or not. When the car was significantly cleaner, we came home and she went shopping. My brother's friends came over to get ready, and they were just as bad as all my friends getting ready for a dance. At one point, one of them came dashing up the stairs yelling for me and asking for safety pins. I thought it was pretty hilarious. We took pictures in the park by the lake, where it was windy and cold and I felt bad for all the girls in their strappy dresses. But it was a success, and my mom and I went to see a movie after, which brings me to part two.
Water for Elephants. This is a book that I read in entirety in a single day. Thankfully, the movie was not dissappointing. The plot points and characters were somewhat rearranged, but everything managed to fall into place in the end much like the book did. No spoilers here, I promise. I was really impressed with the actors. Honestly, I was a little dubious about Robert Pattinson and Reese Witherspoon, but they were actually pretty fantastic. I swear it was the best I've ever seen Robert Pattinson act. And look, for that matter, but we won't go there. There's something very old-Hollywood about Reese Witherspoon, too, which totally worked for the role. Overall, I'd give it about a four out of five stars.
Alright, I guess I should listen to the button-pushers in my head now. G'night.
Today's post comes to you in two parts. Part one: a summary of my day so far. Part two: a movie review. Yes, that rhymes. I'm a poet and I didn't even know it, and all that crap.
After being rescued from the clutches of two six year olds and Lego Batman, my mom and I spent a significant amount of time driving around downtown. Unintentionally, of course. Basically every street in the downtown area is one-way, so if you can't find a parking spot or forget that you have to deposit the checks, you could find yourself driving around in circles for a while. All that driving was famishing, so we got some fast food and then stopped at the car wash to get the van cleaned for my brother's Prom. We had a small picnic on the grass island outside Quality and talked about education and diversity. My mother and I always seem to fall into intellectual conversations with each other, whether we mean to or not. When the car was significantly cleaner, we came home and she went shopping. My brother's friends came over to get ready, and they were just as bad as all my friends getting ready for a dance. At one point, one of them came dashing up the stairs yelling for me and asking for safety pins. I thought it was pretty hilarious. We took pictures in the park by the lake, where it was windy and cold and I felt bad for all the girls in their strappy dresses. But it was a success, and my mom and I went to see a movie after, which brings me to part two.
Water for Elephants. This is a book that I read in entirety in a single day. Thankfully, the movie was not dissappointing. The plot points and characters were somewhat rearranged, but everything managed to fall into place in the end much like the book did. No spoilers here, I promise. I was really impressed with the actors. Honestly, I was a little dubious about Robert Pattinson and Reese Witherspoon, but they were actually pretty fantastic. I swear it was the best I've ever seen Robert Pattinson act. And look, for that matter, but we won't go there. There's something very old-Hollywood about Reese Witherspoon, too, which totally worked for the role. Overall, I'd give it about a four out of five stars.
Alright, I guess I should listen to the button-pushers in my head now. G'night.
Friday, April 22, 2011
I Have Officially Become a Teenager
Why? Well, it's two years into my teen-dom, and I've finally played legit video games. As in Black Ops. Which I play horrendously. My friend's six year old brother plays better than me. So here I am, in the comfort of her house (sitting in a moon chair, of course), watching as they play Black Ops. I've discovered that I totally pwn at dorkier games of the Lego Harry Potter variety, but perhaps my skill comes from watching Hank and Katherine play it on Youtube. For those of you who don't know who I'm talking about, I direct you here. I also am freakin' awesome at Lego Star Wars, which probably comes from watching my brother play. Other than that, I dance like a total geeky white girl on Dance Central.
I've also wrestled the six year old and lightsaber fought him. Soooo....there. Yep. I'll most likely be sleep deprived tomorrow, so this may be the last post for a bit here. This weekend is not the best for me to have a load and a half of homework to do. Anywho. Goodbye for now.
I've also wrestled the six year old and lightsaber fought him. Soooo....there. Yep. I'll most likely be sleep deprived tomorrow, so this may be the last post for a bit here. This weekend is not the best for me to have a load and a half of homework to do. Anywho. Goodbye for now.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
My iPod helps me survive the Zombie Apocalypse
Inspired, once again, by HayleyGHoover of The Hayleylujah Chorus, I decided to play the zombie game.
--Pause briefly while I go locate my iPod, a key player in this game--
Alrighty. Let's lay down the law: go grab your iPod and put it on shuffle. Every song that comes up is part of your Zombie Apocalypse soundtrack.
1. The overall theme for the apocalypse:
MMMBop by Hanson. This is going to be one heck of a ride.
2. The song that plays when I kill my first zombie:
I'll Make a Man Out of You from Mulan. YEEESSSSSS!!!! It knows what it's doing, I swear.
3. The song that plays while I'm being chased by a horde:
Not Meant to Be by Theory of a Deadman. Okay...that one's a stretch. Maybe. Maybe I'm Not Meant to Be dead. See? There.
4. When I kill my loved one:
Only the Young by Journey. That's quite the upbeat song to kill my loved one to. And here I sit, running it through my head, trying to find a single lyric that could possibly go along with this.
5. When I find a group of survivors:
My Girl's Ex-Boyfriend by Relient K. Number 2's comment is becoming increasingly untrue.
6. When I meet my new love interest:
Put Your Records On by Corinne Bailey Rae. Okay, I could see that.
7. When I make my final stand:
Fix You by Coldplay. Iiiiinteresting.
8. When I think I've survived it all:
Walk This Way by Aerosmith. Oddly enough, I can kinda see this one. Like "Oh, yeah, walk this way, freakin' zombie! Yeah! Yeah! Not so bad after all, huh, son?! Just don't kiss me!"
9. When I discover a bite mark on me:
I Don't Wanna Be by Gavin DeGraw. That one actually fits pretty perfectly.
10. The song during the end credits:
Complicated by Avril Lavigne. That's a keeper.
So there you have it. Even if I am killed by zombies, at least it'll have some good music to it.
Otherness: I finished Water for Elephants today. And by finished it today, I mean I read pretty much the whole thing today. It was spectacular.
Also, I was sick, which gave me plenty of time to do it. I also watched some Modern Family and some Glee reruns. And Celebrity Jeopardy from SNL. I think that's it. Ok. Sooo. Yeah.
I hope you LOL'd a little while reading this. Is LOL'd redundant? Or does it just not make sense? I think it just doesn't make sense. So instead of saving time and abbreviating, which has just caused me to be all confused and stuff, I'll just conclude by saying I hope you laughed out loud a little. There. I know I did.
Also, you can find HayleyG's list here.
--Pause briefly while I go locate my iPod, a key player in this game--
Alrighty. Let's lay down the law: go grab your iPod and put it on shuffle. Every song that comes up is part of your Zombie Apocalypse soundtrack.
1. The overall theme for the apocalypse:
MMMBop by Hanson. This is going to be one heck of a ride.
2. The song that plays when I kill my first zombie:
I'll Make a Man Out of You from Mulan. YEEESSSSSS!!!! It knows what it's doing, I swear.
3. The song that plays while I'm being chased by a horde:
Not Meant to Be by Theory of a Deadman. Okay...that one's a stretch. Maybe. Maybe I'm Not Meant to Be dead. See? There.
4. When I kill my loved one:
Only the Young by Journey. That's quite the upbeat song to kill my loved one to. And here I sit, running it through my head, trying to find a single lyric that could possibly go along with this.
5. When I find a group of survivors:
My Girl's Ex-Boyfriend by Relient K. Number 2's comment is becoming increasingly untrue.
6. When I meet my new love interest:
Put Your Records On by Corinne Bailey Rae. Okay, I could see that.
7. When I make my final stand:
Fix You by Coldplay. Iiiiinteresting.
8. When I think I've survived it all:
Walk This Way by Aerosmith. Oddly enough, I can kinda see this one. Like "Oh, yeah, walk this way, freakin' zombie! Yeah! Yeah! Not so bad after all, huh, son?! Just don't kiss me!"
9. When I discover a bite mark on me:
I Don't Wanna Be by Gavin DeGraw. That one actually fits pretty perfectly.
10. The song during the end credits:
Complicated by Avril Lavigne. That's a keeper.
So there you have it. Even if I am killed by zombies, at least it'll have some good music to it.
Otherness: I finished Water for Elephants today. And by finished it today, I mean I read pretty much the whole thing today. It was spectacular.
Also, I was sick, which gave me plenty of time to do it. I also watched some Modern Family and some Glee reruns. And Celebrity Jeopardy from SNL. I think that's it. Ok. Sooo. Yeah.
I hope you LOL'd a little while reading this. Is LOL'd redundant? Or does it just not make sense? I think it just doesn't make sense. So instead of saving time and abbreviating, which has just caused me to be all confused and stuff, I'll just conclude by saying I hope you laughed out loud a little. There. I know I did.
Also, you can find HayleyG's list here.
Friday, April 15, 2011
More Detailed Things
Ok, school and practice are over. Breathe in, breathe out. I actually forgot to breathe while I was running my Prose piece this afternoon. So anyway, here are my reasons for insanity revisted in more detail.
Forensics tournament tomorrow. It still seems like an enormous boulder hanging over my head. I had to add a new introduction that I keep tripping over and we had to make cuts to keep in under eight minutes which I also keep tripping over. I just hope I don't end up tripping so much that I fall head over heels off a cliff. Let's see if I can remember this: "Life's most trying times are often the most colorful, and definitely the most memorable. Jeannette Walls remembers her struggle with resilience in her memoir: The Glass Castle". Ooooor something like that. Seeing as I really don't have much of a clue as to what resilience means, I'll probably change it to something that means the same thing but is easier to say. If I die tomorrow before I get done with my piece, I'm turning over my blog to my father.
Dinner is yet to be had, so more on that tomorrow. Though now we've included my dad's two friends in the equation, so it should basically be tons of fun for my brother's *cough cough* "girlfriend".
The Vocal Dimensions concert has also yet to be seen. Don't bother me.
School in general? It was Day of Silence today, which shows support for gay rights. I, being the slightly loudish person that I am, tried pretty hard to not talk, but it just didn't work for me. One of my friends, though, gave me a dirty look for not doing it, which kinda bugged me. Oh yeah, and apparently I'm mean. I wasn't trying to be, necessarily, but this kid has just been grinding my freakin' gears lately. It's not even really his fault. Well, it kind of is. Whatever. But I kind of snapped at him several times this morning. Sooo...yeah. Still. BAGAGHAHAHHAHAFBABAFAFHGGAAAGAAAAAAAHHH!! Yeah, I have no idea what that just was.
That just leaves dealing with stupid people. See above with obnoxious boy and dirty look girl. Other than that, there's this really annoying kid in my Microsoft Office class who really chaps my khakis. The really bad part is, he has exactly the same name as me, last and all. So whenever my teacher yells at him, I always think she's talking to me and I look around all innocently like "Whaaaaa?" Yup.
I'm really freaking hungry, dang it. We get Italian food soon. Yay! See ya'll tomorrow.
Forensics tournament tomorrow. It still seems like an enormous boulder hanging over my head. I had to add a new introduction that I keep tripping over and we had to make cuts to keep in under eight minutes which I also keep tripping over. I just hope I don't end up tripping so much that I fall head over heels off a cliff. Let's see if I can remember this: "Life's most trying times are often the most colorful, and definitely the most memorable. Jeannette Walls remembers her struggle with resilience in her memoir: The Glass Castle". Ooooor something like that. Seeing as I really don't have much of a clue as to what resilience means, I'll probably change it to something that means the same thing but is easier to say. If I die tomorrow before I get done with my piece, I'm turning over my blog to my father.
Dinner is yet to be had, so more on that tomorrow. Though now we've included my dad's two friends in the equation, so it should basically be tons of fun for my brother's *cough cough* "girlfriend".
The Vocal Dimensions concert has also yet to be seen. Don't bother me.
School in general? It was Day of Silence today, which shows support for gay rights. I, being the slightly loudish person that I am, tried pretty hard to not talk, but it just didn't work for me. One of my friends, though, gave me a dirty look for not doing it, which kinda bugged me. Oh yeah, and apparently I'm mean. I wasn't trying to be, necessarily, but this kid has just been grinding my freakin' gears lately. It's not even really his fault. Well, it kind of is. Whatever. But I kind of snapped at him several times this morning. Sooo...yeah. Still. BAGAGHAHAHHAHAFBABAFAFHGGAAAGAAAAAAAHHH!! Yeah, I have no idea what that just was.
That just leaves dealing with stupid people. See above with obnoxious boy and dirty look girl. Other than that, there's this really annoying kid in my Microsoft Office class who really chaps my khakis. The really bad part is, he has exactly the same name as me, last and all. So whenever my teacher yells at him, I always think she's talking to me and I look around all innocently like "Whaaaaa?" Yup.
I'm really freaking hungry, dang it. We get Italian food soon. Yay! See ya'll tomorrow.
Things. Yeah, that's the best title I could come up with.
I have precisely three minutes to write this post, and then I have to go to zero hour. Yaaaay...
I was on here, so I figued I'd add a quick post and possibly do something longer a little later when my day stopped being crazy.
Reasons for Insanity:
The Forensics Tournament tomorrow that I just found out we had
Dinner with my dad, grandma, and brother's *cough cough* "girlfriend"
Vocal Dimensions Concert
School in general
Dealing with stupid people.
Well, I have less than a minute left. Actually, now I have no time left. I'll see you all later with details on the previous list.
I was on here, so I figued I'd add a quick post and possibly do something longer a little later when my day stopped being crazy.
Reasons for Insanity:
The Forensics Tournament tomorrow that I just found out we had
Dinner with my dad, grandma, and brother's *cough cough* "girlfriend"
Vocal Dimensions Concert
School in general
Dealing with stupid people.
Well, I have less than a minute left. Actually, now I have no time left. I'll see you all later with details on the previous list.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
BANG Supermodel.
Today, I figured it'd be nice and warm like the rest of this week basically has been. I was somewhat wrong. It was kinda cold and windy and somewhat rainy. But anyway, I decided to wear a dress today cuz I just got it and I've seen a ton of people wearing dresses and skirts and stuff. I got a ton of compliments. The dress is really cute and all, but I got to thinking that if I wore stuff like dresses and skirts all the time, I'd get far less compliments. That's just one benefit of dressing casually all the time; if you put on a dress, it's like BANG supermodel. Which not only explains my title, but I said that this morning at lunch and kind of did a little spaz attack in the middle of the hallway.
Enough about dresses. Prom is in the air at my school. Today, a kid got a buch of his friends to hang a banner from his car, dance on his car with a boombox, and run around with flags that said Prom. The other day, this kid decorated his girlfriend's car with $100 worth of bananas and stood next to it with a sign that said "I'd go Bananas if You went to Prom with Me". My brother sang his date a song. There was a big banner in a hallway. Candles in bags spelling it out. We kinda set the bar high at my school, I guess. I'm kind of excited for when I'm old enough to go to Prom and possibly have a guy ask me in an awesome way like that.
Let's see...what else went on today? Oh yeah. My brother is in my school's version of a Glee Club, and this morning all the Honor Roll kids got to go to a preview of their show. Other than my brother being a total dork and these two girls singing a really pretty duet, everybody in the club had to introduce themselves to the crowd. Everyone else simply said "I'm so and so, I'm in such and such grade, and this is my such and such a year in Vocals." My brother said "I'm Nathan, I'm a junior, and this is my second year in Vocals. Hi, Erin!"
Needless to say, it basically made my day. I was so excited I forgot to say hi back.
So here I sit, watching Law and Order LA, which was totally not worth cancelling the original Law and Order. They just chucked a guy in a puddle. And this guy got shot, and his daughter was a terrible actress. She was just sitting there crying and whining "Daaaaaadddyyy!!" so I guess it was kind of sad and pathetic, but it was kind of annoying and I didn't actually believe she was sad. This basically whole episode is in Spanish, and they're using subtitles, so I actually don't have a clue what's going on.
Well, there ya have it, folks. There's four completely random and unrelated things that happened to me today.
Enough about dresses. Prom is in the air at my school. Today, a kid got a buch of his friends to hang a banner from his car, dance on his car with a boombox, and run around with flags that said Prom. The other day, this kid decorated his girlfriend's car with $100 worth of bananas and stood next to it with a sign that said "I'd go Bananas if You went to Prom with Me". My brother sang his date a song. There was a big banner in a hallway. Candles in bags spelling it out. We kinda set the bar high at my school, I guess. I'm kind of excited for when I'm old enough to go to Prom and possibly have a guy ask me in an awesome way like that.
Let's see...what else went on today? Oh yeah. My brother is in my school's version of a Glee Club, and this morning all the Honor Roll kids got to go to a preview of their show. Other than my brother being a total dork and these two girls singing a really pretty duet, everybody in the club had to introduce themselves to the crowd. Everyone else simply said "I'm so and so, I'm in such and such grade, and this is my such and such a year in Vocals." My brother said "I'm Nathan, I'm a junior, and this is my second year in Vocals. Hi, Erin!"
Needless to say, it basically made my day. I was so excited I forgot to say hi back.
So here I sit, watching Law and Order LA, which was totally not worth cancelling the original Law and Order. They just chucked a guy in a puddle. And this guy got shot, and his daughter was a terrible actress. She was just sitting there crying and whining "Daaaaaadddyyy!!" so I guess it was kind of sad and pathetic, but it was kind of annoying and I didn't actually believe she was sad. This basically whole episode is in Spanish, and they're using subtitles, so I actually don't have a clue what's going on.
Well, there ya have it, folks. There's four completely random and unrelated things that happened to me today.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Why Young 'uns are usually way more fun
The inspiration from this post comes from my the eighth grade friends I hung out with pretty much all day today. We had a cast party for our recent production of the Music Man, so I went over to the church we were holding it at immediately after school with three 8th grade girls. After we hung around there for a while, we went to Buffalo Wild Wings where our theatre department was holding a fundraiser. So here's why I think it's more fun to hang out with them than any of the other 9th graders in the cast: They. Have. More. Fun.
Instead of clumping about in little secluded groups and talking about stuff that nobody else really knows about, the 8th graders jump around and dance and joke inappropriately and all sorts of other immature things. I don't know why they appeal to me so much more, but it's probably because I joined theatre when I was in 8th grade and may just be used to the immature fun we have. Heck, we hung out on a playground talking about Glee for like half an hour. At BDubbs, this one kid found out that I hate the word moist and took one of the moist towelettes and waved it in my face yelling "MOIST MOIST MOIST MOIST MOIST!!!" The same kid was my out-of-the-loop buddy, because we were sitting at the end of the table and had no idea what anyone was talking about most of the time. When we got to the actual party, we hung around and tested our strength and played with hula hoops and such. We drank slushies out of jars and put duct tape over each other's mouths when nobody would shut up while we were watching the recording of the show. Tag was played, pictures making fun of Barbie people were taken, and a mini-rave was had. Overall, it was a successful night and I desperately need to go to bed. Bottom line: Immarurity makes everything fun. You're not cool if you're not enjoying yourself.
Instead of clumping about in little secluded groups and talking about stuff that nobody else really knows about, the 8th graders jump around and dance and joke inappropriately and all sorts of other immature things. I don't know why they appeal to me so much more, but it's probably because I joined theatre when I was in 8th grade and may just be used to the immature fun we have. Heck, we hung out on a playground talking about Glee for like half an hour. At BDubbs, this one kid found out that I hate the word moist and took one of the moist towelettes and waved it in my face yelling "MOIST MOIST MOIST MOIST MOIST!!!" The same kid was my out-of-the-loop buddy, because we were sitting at the end of the table and had no idea what anyone was talking about most of the time. When we got to the actual party, we hung around and tested our strength and played with hula hoops and such. We drank slushies out of jars and put duct tape over each other's mouths when nobody would shut up while we were watching the recording of the show. Tag was played, pictures making fun of Barbie people were taken, and a mini-rave was had. Overall, it was a successful night and I desperately need to go to bed. Bottom line: Immarurity makes everything fun. You're not cool if you're not enjoying yourself.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
I'm just in a literary mood.
I just finished reading The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls. All of you get off your butts THIS INSTANT, go to a library or a bookstore, and get a copy. You may not realize how lucky you are until you read this book. I'll try not to put any spoilers in here, but it's hard to spoil a memoir anyway. But if you really want to read and find things out for yourself, I suggest you stop reading right about now.
Jeannette Walls escaped her life very narrowly. Her father was a drunk, her mother was a self-proclaimed excitement addict, and she had several abusive family members growing up. She never really got to pinpoint an exact place to call her childhood home, though there are about three places where most of the story happens. In Battle Mountain, her father explores the idea of mining gold and building a Glass Castle for his family once he strikes it rich. Her grandmother left her mother a house in Phoenix that was the first real home they ever really owned. After her father progressively sank lower into his drunkenness, the family decided to move to Welch, West Virginia to live near her father's parents. Her grandmother, who demanded to be called Erma, was abusive to the children and banished them to the basement after getting in a fight with Jeannette's older sister. The family moved to a tiny shack in a sketchy neighborhood and just barely made it by, with their father often out for days on end and their mother refusing to be tied down in a job. Jeannette and her older sister Lori begin dreaming of life in New York. Eventually, they both make it there, closely followed by their younger brother Brian and younger sister Maureen. Both parents also end up in New York in an attempt to keep the family together, though they're usually at each other's throats. Jeannette manages to finish college and find work at a magazine and is happily married by the end of the book. What strikes me about this book is the conditions she often had to live in. She tells of her house in Welch as overcrowded and dangerous, with no electricity or heat. After a big rain, the house grew mold, part of the ceiling fell out, and the front stairs rotted through completely. What little food they had just went rancid most of the time, as they didn't have a fridge, and there's a story involving a canned ham and some maggots that makes my skin crawl. Her family ate what they could and went hungry most of the time.
Jeannette Walls is officially my hero. Seriously, go read this book.
Jeannette Walls escaped her life very narrowly. Her father was a drunk, her mother was a self-proclaimed excitement addict, and she had several abusive family members growing up. She never really got to pinpoint an exact place to call her childhood home, though there are about three places where most of the story happens. In Battle Mountain, her father explores the idea of mining gold and building a Glass Castle for his family once he strikes it rich. Her grandmother left her mother a house in Phoenix that was the first real home they ever really owned. After her father progressively sank lower into his drunkenness, the family decided to move to Welch, West Virginia to live near her father's parents. Her grandmother, who demanded to be called Erma, was abusive to the children and banished them to the basement after getting in a fight with Jeannette's older sister. The family moved to a tiny shack in a sketchy neighborhood and just barely made it by, with their father often out for days on end and their mother refusing to be tied down in a job. Jeannette and her older sister Lori begin dreaming of life in New York. Eventually, they both make it there, closely followed by their younger brother Brian and younger sister Maureen. Both parents also end up in New York in an attempt to keep the family together, though they're usually at each other's throats. Jeannette manages to finish college and find work at a magazine and is happily married by the end of the book. What strikes me about this book is the conditions she often had to live in. She tells of her house in Welch as overcrowded and dangerous, with no electricity or heat. After a big rain, the house grew mold, part of the ceiling fell out, and the front stairs rotted through completely. What little food they had just went rancid most of the time, as they didn't have a fridge, and there's a story involving a canned ham and some maggots that makes my skin crawl. Her family ate what they could and went hungry most of the time.
Jeannette Walls is officially my hero. Seriously, go read this book.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Bender Shorts
I was up until three in the morning because The Big Man* decided it needed to be 83 degrees in the midwest yesterday. So there I was, spending a perfectly excellent day concluding my spring break, when my brain refused to shut off. I'd even done chemistry** before bed, which is a surefire way to get me to sleep. I'd read more than enough of my book report book for English, listened to a section of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire on CD (for the eleventh time), and was imagining a lovely night's rest to prepare me for the 6:30 a.m. kick-off to my Monday. But. I. Couldn't. SLEEP. Why? WHYYYY???!?!? I really don't know. Let's just say that this was around 10:30/11ish, and you read in the first line that I was up til 3. For at least four and a half hours, I tried everything to get myself to fall asleep. I ate some pomegranate Greek yogurt. I read a significant amount of my book. I surfed the internet. Then, it hit me. Of course I couldn't fall asleep; my house is ancient and my bedroom is on the second floor where we have no air conditioning. The weather had been straight 50's and low 60's for the past couple of weeks, so it wasn't even close to fan season. And there I was, sweltering away in the unseasonal heat. I bared down to my Bender Shorts*** and a t-shirt, pulled my hair back from my neck, climbed into bed with my book, and eventually fell asleep. The sound of "Hey Alli" by Runner Runner woke me up three hours later, and it seemed awfully surreal to me at first. It was like my brain was sitting up in my head, squinting and straining and going all like "What is this music? What the heck is going on right now? Is that...supposed to be like...waking me up, or something?"
There ya have it, folks. I almost seriously believed for a while that I was going to end up pulling an all nighter. I don't even remember what it was that finally knocked me out.
I took a page outta HayleyG's book and decided to try out some asterisks. I've got some splainin' to do:
*--God. Or the big weather machine in the sky. Whichever you prefer to believe in. Maybe Global Warming.
**--Ironically enough, I'm avoiding that now.
***--See previous post for explanation on Bender Shorts. But seriously, they're about the tiniest shorts ever, and made of this thin cotton stuff, and they werejust barely cool enough.
Tah tah for now.
There ya have it, folks. I almost seriously believed for a while that I was going to end up pulling an all nighter. I don't even remember what it was that finally knocked me out.
I took a page outta HayleyG's book and decided to try out some asterisks. I've got some splainin' to do:
*--God. Or the big weather machine in the sky. Whichever you prefer to believe in. Maybe Global Warming.
**--Ironically enough, I'm avoiding that now.
***--See previous post for explanation on Bender Shorts. But seriously, they're about the tiniest shorts ever, and made of this thin cotton stuff, and they werejust barely cool enough.
Tah tah for now.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, FIFTEEN!
Guess how old I am now?
That's right folks, I'm halfway to thirty! I woke up at 8:15 yesterday morning, which is an unGodly hour for a teenager on spring break, to a stack of presents wrapped in monkey paper. Which is just wrapping paper with monkies on it, in case you thought it was something way more awesome. So, I opened up my presents from my (mom) parents.
1. A "Would you rather?" card game for my impending sleepover.
2. A betta fish tank!
3. A fish net that my mom explained was for "when you need to get dead Pedro out".
4. Roman columns for my fish tank.
5. A book detailing all the details of owning a betta
6. A book published by Us Weekly about Taylor Swift, in the middle of which were two tickets to see her in
concert.
Yeah mom.
After the initial excitement had worn off, my mom and I set off to buy a surplus of cheesy, salty foods and sugary drinks for my party and a fish to go in my tank. I'd spent way too much of my morning reading up on betta care and was mostly paranoid that I'd kill my fish in several ways. We got to Petco and I spent about five seconds scanning the first shelf of bettas in cups that I saw and selected a dark blue fish with teal fins. His name is Pedro. After the Petco man reassured me of most of my fears and my mom made several jokes about getting a fish filet from McDonald's, Pedro survived the terrifyingly bumpy ride home and is now residing quite nicely in my kitchen, which is currently the warmest room in the house.
Leading up to 3:30 when my friends were due so we could catch a 5:00 movie that was about 45 minutes away, my vacuum kind of exploded and smoke started rolling out of it. It made my stairwell smell like burning rubber for about three hours. After that issue was dealt with, my friends started arriving. The first three were all there on the dot. We hung out for a while, growing steadily more concerned about my last two amigas. I'd planned on leaving for the movie by four at the latest, hopefully giving them plenty of time to be late. Unfortunately, these last two friends did not show up together, as I had presumed, with one showing up at about 4 and the last one showing up at 4:15. We decided to go to the movie at 6:15 instead, and sat around for a while.
What movie? Born to be Wild. With baby orangutans and elephants and Morgan Freeman. In Imax 3D. It was thoroughly awesome. When we got home from the movie, we ate a substantial amount of pizza and I opened my presents.
1. A tiny stuffed giraffe.
2. An awesome ring I had almost gotten for myself.
3. A small red carving of a heart.
4. A loverly bracelet from Australia.
5. A puppy-sized elephant.
6. Tuna salad with crackers and a fork.
7. Maxi pads.
8. A magnet that reads "Rock Star Mom"
9. A pin that reads "Mother hen"
10. A package of rainbow colored razors.
11. Tiny Forks.
12. An elephant charm.
13. Another puppy-sized elephant.
14. Happy Birthday sunglasses.
15. A Ducky magnet.
16. A pin that reads "Mama Bear"
17. A glowstick fairy wand.
18. An orange plastic martini glass.
19. Hand decorated shorts with "I <3 Bender" on the butt and every quote by John Bender from the Breakfast Club.
20. Mint colored OPI nail polish.
21. A bass-singing Sing-A-Ma-Jig.
If you are completely confused, it's all good. I'd be concerned if you weren't. We proceeded to eat cake, watch Tangled, play Blurt, Black Magic, Mafia, Signs, Pterydactyl, the hand tapping game, and a very brief spurt of the Statue Game. We talked, sang acapella renditions of Sadie Hawkins Dance and Pink Tux, bitched at each other a little, and finally dropped of to sleep, the last of us at 5 in the morning. I was out at 4:30 or so, just barely able to tune out the last giggles of the two remaining friends that were awake.
This morning, we woke up around ten, dined on chocolate chip pancakes and bacon, and said our goodbyes. It kind of sucks that the next time I will see these people will be at school on Monday. Poo.
So here I sit, fifteen at last, with a "choppy" new haircut, dreading the nest of gifts and sleeping bags and clothes I still have to pick up. Technically, it's only my stuff, but I still don't want to pick it up.
Yep. Happy Birthday to me. I realize how lengthy this post is, but I've been kind of lax with blogging for a while now. And it's BEDA, which somehow makes it worse.
That's right folks, I'm halfway to thirty! I woke up at 8:15 yesterday morning, which is an unGodly hour for a teenager on spring break, to a stack of presents wrapped in monkey paper. Which is just wrapping paper with monkies on it, in case you thought it was something way more awesome. So, I opened up my presents from my (mom) parents.
1. A "Would you rather?" card game for my impending sleepover.
2. A betta fish tank!
3. A fish net that my mom explained was for "when you need to get dead Pedro out".
4. Roman columns for my fish tank.
5. A book detailing all the details of owning a betta
6. A book published by Us Weekly about Taylor Swift, in the middle of which were two tickets to see her in
concert.
Yeah mom.
After the initial excitement had worn off, my mom and I set off to buy a surplus of cheesy, salty foods and sugary drinks for my party and a fish to go in my tank. I'd spent way too much of my morning reading up on betta care and was mostly paranoid that I'd kill my fish in several ways. We got to Petco and I spent about five seconds scanning the first shelf of bettas in cups that I saw and selected a dark blue fish with teal fins. His name is Pedro. After the Petco man reassured me of most of my fears and my mom made several jokes about getting a fish filet from McDonald's, Pedro survived the terrifyingly bumpy ride home and is now residing quite nicely in my kitchen, which is currently the warmest room in the house.
Leading up to 3:30 when my friends were due so we could catch a 5:00 movie that was about 45 minutes away, my vacuum kind of exploded and smoke started rolling out of it. It made my stairwell smell like burning rubber for about three hours. After that issue was dealt with, my friends started arriving. The first three were all there on the dot. We hung out for a while, growing steadily more concerned about my last two amigas. I'd planned on leaving for the movie by four at the latest, hopefully giving them plenty of time to be late. Unfortunately, these last two friends did not show up together, as I had presumed, with one showing up at about 4 and the last one showing up at 4:15. We decided to go to the movie at 6:15 instead, and sat around for a while.
What movie? Born to be Wild. With baby orangutans and elephants and Morgan Freeman. In Imax 3D. It was thoroughly awesome. When we got home from the movie, we ate a substantial amount of pizza and I opened my presents.
1. A tiny stuffed giraffe.
2. An awesome ring I had almost gotten for myself.
3. A small red carving of a heart.
4. A loverly bracelet from Australia.
5. A puppy-sized elephant.
6. Tuna salad with crackers and a fork.
7. Maxi pads.
8. A magnet that reads "Rock Star Mom"
9. A pin that reads "Mother hen"
10. A package of rainbow colored razors.
11. Tiny Forks.
12. An elephant charm.
13. Another puppy-sized elephant.
14. Happy Birthday sunglasses.
15. A Ducky magnet.
16. A pin that reads "Mama Bear"
17. A glowstick fairy wand.
18. An orange plastic martini glass.
19. Hand decorated shorts with "I <3 Bender" on the butt and every quote by John Bender from the Breakfast Club.
20. Mint colored OPI nail polish.
21. A bass-singing Sing-A-Ma-Jig.
If you are completely confused, it's all good. I'd be concerned if you weren't. We proceeded to eat cake, watch Tangled, play Blurt, Black Magic, Mafia, Signs, Pterydactyl, the hand tapping game, and a very brief spurt of the Statue Game. We talked, sang acapella renditions of Sadie Hawkins Dance and Pink Tux, bitched at each other a little, and finally dropped of to sleep, the last of us at 5 in the morning. I was out at 4:30 or so, just barely able to tune out the last giggles of the two remaining friends that were awake.
This morning, we woke up around ten, dined on chocolate chip pancakes and bacon, and said our goodbyes. It kind of sucks that the next time I will see these people will be at school on Monday. Poo.
So here I sit, fifteen at last, with a "choppy" new haircut, dreading the nest of gifts and sleeping bags and clothes I still have to pick up. Technically, it's only my stuff, but I still don't want to pick it up.
Yep. Happy Birthday to me. I realize how lengthy this post is, but I've been kind of lax with blogging for a while now. And it's BEDA, which somehow makes it worse.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
FRUSTRATIONS.
GAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!
Sorry. Had to let that one out. This will most likely be a rant-y post, soo...yeah. If I get long winded, feel free to just skip it out. And I've officially failed at BEDAing, so I guess I'll try again next year.
So why am I frustrated? It's the internet. And partially my friends, but mostly the internet. I don't really blame my friends for my frustrations, cuz it's not their fault for wanting to be informed. I'd do the same thing. It's probably not even the internet's fault either. It might just be a combination of low blood sugar and sitting in a bumpy truck for about three hours. So anyway, I'll stop rambling about who's fault it is and tell the story.
I've been gone for a few days (hence the failed BEDA), so when I got back about an hour ago, I figured I'd check my Facebook for messages and stuff. I'm planning a birthday party, and it's a Facebook event and stuff, so I was checking up on my guest list and stuff like that when I see like four posts asking me if it's a sleepover or if they should bring money and stuff like that. And I seriously do not blame them, because that's all stuff I'd want to know too, but the way it was set up on facebook made me feel like I was being attacked by posts. And I put up in the description that it was a sleepover, so I was like "C'mon people!" so yeah. But in the time it's taken me to type this post, most of it has already been resolved. Sooooooo...simmer down now. Okay. Alright. All good.
I'm gonna go eat some food now. Kay...bye.
Sorry. Had to let that one out. This will most likely be a rant-y post, soo...yeah. If I get long winded, feel free to just skip it out. And I've officially failed at BEDAing, so I guess I'll try again next year.
So why am I frustrated? It's the internet. And partially my friends, but mostly the internet. I don't really blame my friends for my frustrations, cuz it's not their fault for wanting to be informed. I'd do the same thing. It's probably not even the internet's fault either. It might just be a combination of low blood sugar and sitting in a bumpy truck for about three hours. So anyway, I'll stop rambling about who's fault it is and tell the story.
I've been gone for a few days (hence the failed BEDA), so when I got back about an hour ago, I figured I'd check my Facebook for messages and stuff. I'm planning a birthday party, and it's a Facebook event and stuff, so I was checking up on my guest list and stuff like that when I see like four posts asking me if it's a sleepover or if they should bring money and stuff like that. And I seriously do not blame them, because that's all stuff I'd want to know too, but the way it was set up on facebook made me feel like I was being attacked by posts. And I put up in the description that it was a sleepover, so I was like "C'mon people!" so yeah. But in the time it's taken me to type this post, most of it has already been resolved. Sooooooo...simmer down now. Okay. Alright. All good.
I'm gonna go eat some food now. Kay...bye.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
It's Blue Shirt Day
Heh? Blue shirts?
Autism Awareness, people.
Not many people really know what autism is. Truth be told, I'm not totally sure myself. Nobody actually knows what causes it, but it's basically a developmental disorder that effects social interaction, communication, and behavior. I'm sure everyone knows someone with autism, or with some form of it, like Asperger syndrome. You might not even know. Plenty of people live with it very successfully.
When I was about ten years old, I was in my backyard with my dad helping him brew beer. All of a sudden this kid came running down our driveway in a pair of swim trunks, no shirt, no shoes, and what looked like a dog tag hanging around his neck. He looked distressed and like he'd been running for a while. For a split second I thought it was my brother, who'd been at a friend's house, but I knew it couldn't be the second he started climbing our chain-link fence. We weren't allowed to climb the fence. This boy looked a little bit younger than I was and didn't say a word when my dad called out to him. "Hey there, buddy!" No response. I just stared in awe, expecting him to say something. He opened our screen door and headed into the house. I exchanged a look with my dad, and then a teenager with shaggy hair came jogging into our driveway. "Have you seen a little boy around here?" My dad told him he'd gone inside. The teenager, who was on a cell phone with the little boy's mom, struggled with our gate latch for a minute and then went into the house after him. Dad told me to go inside and make sure my mom wasn't in the shower or something, so I did. Mom told me she thought the kid was looking for a dog or something and had gone upstairs. Soon after, he was wrangled and his mom was there. His name was Vincent, and he was autistic. Vincent lived a few blocks away from us and apparently loved our house. The teenager had been babysitting him when he escaped and ran all the way to our house. He used to draw pictures of it because he loved it so much. There's so much about that day that was somewhat shocking to me. My dad named the beer he'd been making after Vincent.
--Something to chew on: I talked about my dog in the previous post. The excitable, 10 going on 2 black labrador. He was outside that day, and instead of flipping out over our new guest, he sat uncharacteristically calmly on the sidewalk and watched. Trippy.--
I'm continually fascinated with autism. I don't know why. I just kind of am. Anyway, It's ten o' clock already, but put on some blue pajamas for the last two hours of Autism Awareness Day.
Autism Awareness, people.
Not many people really know what autism is. Truth be told, I'm not totally sure myself. Nobody actually knows what causes it, but it's basically a developmental disorder that effects social interaction, communication, and behavior. I'm sure everyone knows someone with autism, or with some form of it, like Asperger syndrome. You might not even know. Plenty of people live with it very successfully.
When I was about ten years old, I was in my backyard with my dad helping him brew beer. All of a sudden this kid came running down our driveway in a pair of swim trunks, no shirt, no shoes, and what looked like a dog tag hanging around his neck. He looked distressed and like he'd been running for a while. For a split second I thought it was my brother, who'd been at a friend's house, but I knew it couldn't be the second he started climbing our chain-link fence. We weren't allowed to climb the fence. This boy looked a little bit younger than I was and didn't say a word when my dad called out to him. "Hey there, buddy!" No response. I just stared in awe, expecting him to say something. He opened our screen door and headed into the house. I exchanged a look with my dad, and then a teenager with shaggy hair came jogging into our driveway. "Have you seen a little boy around here?" My dad told him he'd gone inside. The teenager, who was on a cell phone with the little boy's mom, struggled with our gate latch for a minute and then went into the house after him. Dad told me to go inside and make sure my mom wasn't in the shower or something, so I did. Mom told me she thought the kid was looking for a dog or something and had gone upstairs. Soon after, he was wrangled and his mom was there. His name was Vincent, and he was autistic. Vincent lived a few blocks away from us and apparently loved our house. The teenager had been babysitting him when he escaped and ran all the way to our house. He used to draw pictures of it because he loved it so much. There's so much about that day that was somewhat shocking to me. My dad named the beer he'd been making after Vincent.
--Something to chew on: I talked about my dog in the previous post. The excitable, 10 going on 2 black labrador. He was outside that day, and instead of flipping out over our new guest, he sat uncharacteristically calmly on the sidewalk and watched. Trippy.--
I'm continually fascinated with autism. I don't know why. I just kind of am. Anyway, It's ten o' clock already, but put on some blue pajamas for the last two hours of Autism Awareness Day.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Barking at my Dog
I decided yesterday whilst sitting and being incredibly lazy in my bedroom that I would take my dog for a walk. I was feeling sort of guilty over everything I'd eaten that day, which is kind of ridiculous, seeing as teenagers are supposed to be able to eat whatever the heck they want. But when you eat a lunch composed mainly of curly fries, Diet Cherry Dr. Pepper, and oatmeal cookies and then get home and eat girl scout cookies, M&Ms, and some baked Doritos, you're bound to feel like a lazy slob who really needs some excersise. So I put on a hoodie and my jean jacket (which I got for $12 at Kohls, possibly my best purchase of all time), grabbed my labrador and my camera, and headed out the door. My original plan had been to cross the street and the following train tracks to the little creek that's back there. However, I saw some lady on the path and decided to go the other direction, as it's yet to be determined if that little creek area is private property or not. So I started on my usual dog-walking route, down by my old elementary school that is now a tech school for 8th and 9th graders. When I passed that, with the usual sentimental sigh, I decided to walk through the neighborhood of pretty houses. I couldn't tell if they were rich houses, necessarily, but they're pretty: all sprawling lawns and gardens and brick and big picture windows and bright trim. I kept pausing to take out my camera and snap pictures and it occurred to me that while my original intent was to find a peaceful place of nature and I'd had to go the other way, I'd found it anyway. This residential neighborhood was just as peaceful and full of beauty as the creek. As a matter of fact, the very same creek ran through this neighborhood. My dog seemed perfectly content to be outside and exploring the sounds and smells of the new spring. Eventually, we looped back around and crossed the train tracks. I had to hold my breath as we basically crossed someone else's lawn, all the while dreaming up excuses of why I was on their property should anyone come and yell at me. Finally, the hill that led down to the creek appeared and I let my dog off the leash.
--A word about my dog. He's a dork. Dorky the Dog. His name's Fergus, and he turned 10 on St. Patrick's day. He refuses to believe he's 10, because he still acts like he's 3. Currently, he's kinda chilling out on my feet, but when he's not sprawling on the couch or eating, he's running around the house, chewing on his headless giraffe (that's a different story). So he's young at heart. And questionably intelligent. But he's the most loyal, adorable, goofy dog anyone could ever want.--
He was confused at my leash taking off at first and sort of hung out by my side, looking at me like "Wait, I can...I can run around? Really? You sure? Well...ok!" and then took off. It was amusing to watch him hate on the tiny bridge that I crossed. He splashed down into the creek and appeared to be very confused and anxious as to getting out, as both sides of exit were steep. Finally, he took an impressive leap onto the shore and seemed to be very proud of himself for doing so. He was wagging his tail, all excited. We moved on down the path to the part of the creek with the small waterfall, and Fergus plunged right into the water up to his stomach. The water was shlooping around him, and I plopped down on the concrete shore and took pictures of him shaking off droplets of water. When he emerged from the water, he was so excited that he took off galloping down the path, which was highly amusing and made for some good pictures. He came trotting around my legs, panting and wagging his tail so hard I was afraid it would fall off. I took off running, and he followed me, matching his stride to mine. We got back to the bridge, and he impressed me again by crossing on a ledge of a piece of concrete. I told him he was surprisingly agile for such an old man, and he panted in my face. Then, the leash had to go back on. We ran up the hill and back to the path, waited to cross the busy street, and headed down the home stretch of sidewalk.
It occurs to me that I never explained my title. As I said, Fergus is very excitable. This made for some tough leashing on my part, always having to yell at him to "HEEL!". So by barking at him, I don't mean like "woof woof", but rather a sharp command sort of bark. Also, this post is sort of giving him a shout-out. Not like he'll read it. He is a dog, after all.
--A word about my dog. He's a dork. Dorky the Dog. His name's Fergus, and he turned 10 on St. Patrick's day. He refuses to believe he's 10, because he still acts like he's 3. Currently, he's kinda chilling out on my feet, but when he's not sprawling on the couch or eating, he's running around the house, chewing on his headless giraffe (that's a different story). So he's young at heart. And questionably intelligent. But he's the most loyal, adorable, goofy dog anyone could ever want.--
He was confused at my leash taking off at first and sort of hung out by my side, looking at me like "Wait, I can...I can run around? Really? You sure? Well...ok!" and then took off. It was amusing to watch him hate on the tiny bridge that I crossed. He splashed down into the creek and appeared to be very confused and anxious as to getting out, as both sides of exit were steep. Finally, he took an impressive leap onto the shore and seemed to be very proud of himself for doing so. He was wagging his tail, all excited. We moved on down the path to the part of the creek with the small waterfall, and Fergus plunged right into the water up to his stomach. The water was shlooping around him, and I plopped down on the concrete shore and took pictures of him shaking off droplets of water. When he emerged from the water, he was so excited that he took off galloping down the path, which was highly amusing and made for some good pictures. He came trotting around my legs, panting and wagging his tail so hard I was afraid it would fall off. I took off running, and he followed me, matching his stride to mine. We got back to the bridge, and he impressed me again by crossing on a ledge of a piece of concrete. I told him he was surprisingly agile for such an old man, and he panted in my face. Then, the leash had to go back on. We ran up the hill and back to the path, waited to cross the busy street, and headed down the home stretch of sidewalk.
It occurs to me that I never explained my title. As I said, Fergus is very excitable. This made for some tough leashing on my part, always having to yell at him to "HEEL!". So by barking at him, I don't mean like "woof woof", but rather a sharp command sort of bark. Also, this post is sort of giving him a shout-out. Not like he'll read it. He is a dog, after all.
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