New Year's Resolutions and my "brand of heroin"

So I gave up on caps halfway through the title. I'm only human.

I have a problem. I think I may just be addicted to Gmail. Now, I'm sure my fellow Gmailer friends are rolling their eyes and thinking, "no really?" But seriously guys. Sometimes I feel like what I do in everyday life doesn't matter at all. Getting into Gmail drama, or just spending time (hours and hours) online answering weird/clever/flirtaeous questions on Yahoo Answers, chatting with people, going on YouTube or Facebook. I mean, it feels shallow. But then, I can't let it go. This shallow pool of so called hobbies is my life. What else am I going to do? I'm trying to figure out what kind of person I am. It's not like I can go out and run for president or volunteer for Peace Corp or Red Cross or quit school and join the circus. The last result is the most plausible. How sad it that? At the moment, I am writing this so I don't go back to my "brand of heroin", which you may have figured out is Gmail. Pitiful. And don't I know it.

Another difficulty is that if I try and not become involved in the large portion of my world which happens on the WWW, I may seem like I'm trying to put myself above others. I mean, who cares what your friends think of you, right? Wrong. It's not like I feel like I'm wasting my time by talking to these people. It's more..the amount of time, and the content of a majority of the conversations, and the method of communication...and all that stuff. I'm bored with virtual crap. And I know some people must be too. Maybe.

Course, (okay, I know I'm starting to ramble) sometimes virtual is all you get (I'll stop before it gets depressing.)

Of course I have other stuff to do. Chores. Homework. Work work work. I'd rather blow my time in the cyberworld then face reality in the real one. And that is the problem.

My New Year's Resolutions

Not to eat in front of the Tv/Computer

Not to say I see as much (only people I chat with a lot on...you guessed it, Gmail know what I'm talking about. And now the blog with two readers becomes exclusive? Who does she think she is?)

Too actually answer (besides not much/nothing) when people ask what's up. That may get annoying.

And those are my public NYRs.
Blog later.

The fire

Sometimes I just need to write something down and i feel something really strongly. But it'll go away if I don't capture it in the moment and keep it with me. Like Hermione with her jar of fire in Harry Potter.

So, I'm sad to tell you this epiphany happened to me on Facebook. I was just messing around, when suddenly and very abruptly an obvious truth about myself hit me. Well, a series of them. First of all, I'm very liberal. I think sometimes people are just born being that way. Or, you know, they expand from the environment they grew up in or whatever. And you can change, sure. But no one taught me to be liberal. I mean, I don't have a conservative family, but no one said, this is the right way to be, to me. Which is in a sense, being liberal. So maybe I did learn it.

These are good.






You go, Glen Coco. Haha.

Annoyance 1.5

me:

12:12 PMyou know what i have a problem with?

Anthony: i know some things, but what were you specifically planning to tell me at this moment

me: the lack of blue foods

12:13 PM blueberries arent even really blue

Anthony: yeah

me: theyre...indiago

that was spelled wrong

Anthony: yeah

me: and then

they have blue raspberry flavors

i like blue raspberry flavors

Anthony: yeah

me: but blue raspberries arent real

12:14 PM they are no naturally blue foods

if you want a blue food, you have to take a food and add blue to it

how wrong is that?

Anthony: so wrong

12:15 PM me: exactly

of all the things not to have in this world

why have is be blue foods?

is = it

i would have rather had them take away laugh boxes

12:16 PM hey

can i copy and paste this

on my blog

for an annoyance?

Anthony: shoore

My Strange Personality

yesterday for christmas eve we all got these great robes that are fuzzy and fleecy and have - you guessed it - pockets! Now, I've never been someone whose life revoled around whether clothing has pockets or not, but if a robe like that has pockets, you know it's quality.

see now, i don't even know why I mentioned pockets. Which is what this entry is about. Yesterday I told my dad he looked sexy in his robe. I was being sarcastic of course, I haven't gotten that out of control, but there's a sure fire way to make a nice family gathering have a right awkward moment, if you were looking for a way. I wonder what's happening to me.

In Paper Towns, Margo says that planning for someone (in her case she was talking about pranks) is always a lot more fun than actually doing it. It's over fast. It's not unpleasant, but anticipation made it into more than it was. This relates to Christmas. You wait and get super excited and buy all this food and sing christmas songs and put up decorations and buy presents and feel very happy, and then it passes real quickly and you have to wait another year. but I still love it. favorite holiday. and this year was the most excited I'd ever been for Christmas.

Exception to Annoyances no. 1

Amelia Diehl is not to be held responsible for any annoyances. She is not annoying. She doesn't need to work out anything, except maybe self forgiveness. That is all. Ga' night, folks.

Annoyance 1.4

1.4: People giving me other people's chat to read. The other people don't know I'm reading their words to someone else. I'm sick of getting chats throw at me that aren't any of my business. Don't say sorry. It's not just you. It's just annoying.

the world

friendship should be easy, but it isnt always. everything is going so wrong. i cant make it right. everything i say is taken the wrong way. everything i say is thrown back at me differently then i expected. why is life throwing me curveballs? and so close to christmas.

i cant talk anymore. i cant say what i feel. it just ruins things. staying neutral is safe. but im not neutral. i have a non neutral opinion. people hear me how they want to hear me. they dont listen. well some do. but the people who listen arent the ones i cant talk to. theyre the ones who listen. who so selflessly listen. maybe the fighting is about listening.

i feel selfish. everything i say is about me. but i have to speak for me, who else? i hate being told i dont care, and i just want to fight. i hate fighting. i hate fighting and pretending like nothing happened. i hate ranting about things i hate. i wish i could pinpoint what was wrong and throw it out the window and forget. but problems dont resolve themselves.

i wish i could be strong for amelia, and not get caught up in drama. she hates it, i think. so do i. do i want to be in this? do i know what i want? i dont know anything anymore. my priorities are all in the wrong order. everything is bad and twisted and wrong on the inside. im so shallow. i act like its ok.

i feel like a drama queen. i act like its the worst. people are starving out there. people are dying. people are in countries that have war going on around them. so many worse things, and middle school drama is throwing me flat on my face. im weak. im selfish. im bad. its horrible. its the worst. i need to realize itll be fine in the long run. maybe even tomorrow. its just hard to be in the present sometimes. sometimes the present doesnt feel like a present. maybe its a blessing in disguise.

Re: Horton Hears a Who

Instead of being social and going out on a Saturday night, I watched Horton Hears a Who with my family. And loved it. It's tied with Finding Nemo as my favorite animated movie. Gosh. that was so good.

I'm clumsy. I eat a lot sometimes when I'm upset. I'm self conscious. I get jealous. I think mean thoughts. I watch Disney Channel.

Sometimes I give up on homework. I know it's bad and I should be preparing for upcoming homework loads now, but I slack off. I don't care. I decide the story problem isn't important enough to get an equation. Who am I to decide that?

I overuse sarcasm. I'm a hypocrite. When I have bad days sometimes I'm not rational about it and take it out on other people. I get mad too easily. I yell at my parents too much.

I don't know how I feel. Sometimes I don't give myself time to organize my thoughts. Sometimes I don't think before I speak. I have problems with time management. I don't pay attention sometimes. I make harsh judgements. I butt in to things that don't concern me, then get mad at other people for doing the same. I don't do things when I say I will. I complain. I'm a wimp. I'm obsessed with Twilight even though I'm sick of it. I talk in inanimate objects sometimes. Not seriously, but I mutter at them under my breath. I worry worry worry about what other people say about me.

I'm not perfect - not that anyone said I was. I'm just not.

99th Post and Annoyance 1.3

1.3: People fighting over the stupidest things.

Annoyances 1.1 and 1.2

I can't stop.

1.1: This one will take some explaining. In movies or books, when a couple are together and one of them is meeting with someone else of the opposite sex or somehow they end up somewhere with someone of the oppposite sex of...appeal that isn't who they're with, and then they kiss. And then the other person in the relationship pops in there out of no where and throws a silent hissy fit and breaks off the wedding/breaks up/slaps the person when they follow them/cries (well, this usually happens)/takes the dog and/or kids and goes to stay with a friend/just runs off to who knows where.
Here's what annoys me about this.
1.) That person shouldn't even be kissing that other person. Call me an unfeeling insensitive jerk who has never felt the power of true love, but I don't care what you're feeling. You're in a relationship and if you want to make out with someone else break up with the person you're with. One night stands aren't any better than having a long lasting affair.
2.) Sometimes the person just walks in when their 'hubby' or whatever is talking with someone of the opposite sex. Sure, most of the time they're kissing. Talking isn't a common occurance. Either way, when the culprit dude runs after Mr/Mrs "I've been betrayed so I must get outta here." and the culprit is like, "Please, please, let me explain!" Why don't they let them? What harm will it do? At least listen to the story. Feel free to make noises of disgust throughout. Feel free to yell at them after. But you don't even know why you're running. You walked in in the middle of something that looked bad to you. You don't know anything but that and that you feel like crap.


Hump.


Oh yeah.


1.2: Being sick.

Agony and Annoyance 1.0

I saw the Dark Knight today.

All those expectations.

All those wonderful ratings.

All those months waiting to see it.

My review, you ask? Or maybe you don't - but here it is either way. It sucked. I hated that. I was so confused, and it's not even one of those instances where I shoulda been paying attention. What was that? 94% on the Tomatometer on Rotten Tomatoes. Ridikulus. Are those people insane? I couldn't figure out who had died, Batman didn't live up to standards, and just when you started to seriously get angry at the lack of progress made in the movie there would be some explosion. Okay, so I'm not with the masses on this one. Dare to be different, right? Amelia was right. I didn't even finish the movie (we got it via Netflix). Yeesh.

So after a serious whining round you're probably all sick of listening to some super blessed spoiled brat complain, and an Annoyance is probably over the top. I promise it's not to do with DK. Dark Knight, you know.

Annoyance 1.0: Apple Skins.




They give me the willies.

Annoyances 0.8 and 0.9

o.8
Hitting or getting hit or accidentally hurting or somehow harming your lip or mouth. It hurts. And then you start crying even though you're not even bleeding. Ow.

o.9
Being judged based on stereotypes.

Okay so just some newsflashes.
I love Jasper Hale, Danny Tieger, Fang, and Jim Halpert. I can't decide if I'm serious about that. Either way, those aren't in order. I think I may be falling in love with Craig Deering as well. I'm hopeless.

I still have Rupert to fall back on.
But hey, don't go thinking I'm boy crazy.

I've started watching Julia Nunes on YouTube. She's always so happy all the time. That's how I discovered Danny Tieger too. All because of Rennie and Amelia of course. And also the Allen and Craig Show. I watched the whole thing today. And it was Hill Air Eeee Ous(t [you know, like the air freshener]).

Britney Spears at no. 1? Gas prices at 1.75 a gallon? Times are changing, my friends.

No Long Enough For a Title.

It was Annoyance 0.7. I didn't feel like going back and editing it.

Memory Loss

I'm contemplating whether I have a fully developed and capable brain. I mean, I'm not calling myself stupid. If I did that I'd be opening myself up for everyone else to do that too.

I just don't remember a lot. The farthest back I remember is first grade the first day of school. I had a baloney sandwich. Not real baloney...it was like...tofuoney. It was green. I loved it. Sandwich had mustard on it. Anyway, I can see pictures in my head of farther back, but it's just homevideos replaying in my head. I'm not seeing out of my eyes, I'm seeing it from the camera lenses. Just like how everyone else sees me. Also, is a camera like a mirror? Everything seen in reverse?

That's a little strange actually. That people never really see themselves as everyone else does. They see it backward. I think in a fair world, people would at least be able to see themselves like how other's did. This world isn't fair though.

Anyway, I am worried about my memory. I don't remember much of anything. I don't remember Europe, except these random tid bits, and only of the most recent year. I don't remember being 6 or 7 or 8. Except I do remember that one time Noah telling me he liked me in 2nd grade and flashing an 'I love you' in sign language at me at recess. I was petrified. Does saying that thing about Noah sound like bragging? Am I bragging? Does anything make sense anymore?

I can't figure it out. Me and Karina were both normal before we met each other. Then we got to know each other and look at us today. I guess that means that the answer to the last question in the last...I was going to say paragraph but word block is a better term...is no.

Annoyance....what number am I on?

Whatever. Wanting to say something but not knowing how. Also, losing instructions to your new clock so you can't set it.

Me: So when's your birthday?
Amelia: December 31st
Me: Psh...yeah right.
Amelia: No seriously!


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Nathan and my mom after his first day of kindergarten~

Nathan: Mom! I got a sticker that says 'I'm a Winner' from my teacher because she said that I did everything perfectly my first day!
Mom: That's great bud.
Nathan: But....I think everyone got a sticker. And not everyone did everything right....they couldn't have.
*he wanders off and comes back an hour later
Nathan: Mom, I figured it out.
Mom: Oh?
Nathan: Everyone got a sticker. Everyone who did everything right got a sticker that said 'I'm a Winner' and everyone who did some stuff wrong got stickers that said 'I'm a Loser'


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Mom: I'm worried about you taking that iPod of your's to school. What if someone steals it?
Me: I won't let anyone steal it mom. I will be Edward and the iPod will be my...Bella..

Oh GOSH.

Hmm. Today.

I got an iPod touch for my b-day! And this nail thing and this...well it's hard to describe. But it's cool. Two of my best friends are coming over tomorrow. My only concern is that if we spend too much time together we'll get sick of each other. And it's seriously a concern.

I got to talk to Amelia today. Though neither of us is the most natural at talking on the phone (well, sorry if that's offensive Amelia) it was still great. How...to say this without sounding creepy. I missed the sound of her voice....? Well, she'll know what I mean, either way.

I read Tina's blog. That's....I have to think about that.


(returning to the family room where my cousin Laura was watching my brothers and cousin play SSBB)
Laura: So is there a time limit?
Josh: No, there's no time limit.
Me: You can take as long as you want to kill them.
Laura: Kill them slowly.
Me: Make it painful.
Branden: I'm tired of watching you fight this guy. Pick someone else to kill.

Sadistic, right? It was funny, if you were there.

Gah. I love my friends.

Oh gosh.

The best thing about living in a house of seven plus pets is that you're rarely alone. It's also the worst thing.

Ever wonder why people seem to care about everything except the planet they live on?


Ever get sick of yourself?





Saltines is my word of the day.


Did you know that the first product to have a bar code was Wrigleys Gum?

L.i.f.e. (parts one and two)

Part 1;

It's not fair. It's irrational. It's sick. It's twisted. It's gruesome. It's surprising. It's painful. It's complex. It's too simple. It's horrible. It's redundant. It's shocking. It's drama-filled. It's annoying. It's aggravating. It's hard. It's romantic. It's depressing. It's unpredictable. It's....crucial. It's life.







Sheesh, life.

_______________________________________________________________
Part Two;


Dear Life,

I realize you're not an object, but more like everything. I just hope you know how much you're doing here in my..life. The trouble you're rousing. The friendships you're sealing. The stupid jokes occuring. What the heck is going on over there? I mean, it's never been crystal clear of course. You're like the opposite of Hollywood. Like the pirate ship appearing on the horizon in the middle of a romantic outing to the beach. You're the plot twists - the climax is all you, and the problem solving (which can sometimes be waiting it out - time heals all wounds right. sometimes time passes so slowly though. I'm not even...healing. I'm just remembering.) and then it starts all over again. You never see it coming, and on the impossible occasions when you do, it's either everything or insignificant. Yeesh. You're....making life....well, what it should be.

-That Crazed Teenage Soul (well, I'm sane. So far).

Colors

Okay, so I'm on my mom's laptop and should probably keep this fast. We're reading the Giver in my English class at school and the people living in the community in The Giver don't see in color - along with not doing many other things. The point is, I've been thinking.

What if we all see colors differently. Like one person's green is another person's orange, or something. But it would work because if someone said, 'hey! look at that yellow dress over there!' or something, each person would see the dress as they saw yellow. There's no way to test if this is true because you would, in essence, have to be another person and see things as they saw things to prove your point. Then, of course, it would only be proving it to yourself. You'd have to transport yourself back to your body and then after convincing your colleagues you weren't insane, proceed to tell a story that invoke feelings of 'oh - they're crazy after all' from said colleagues.

So colors look different to each person, but they can't tell if it's true without being another person. Just a thought.

The Night The Colleagues Came Over For Dinner

I love them colleagues. They're so good. So funny. So laid back.
It was good.
As you can tell, my mood has changed a lot. From reading The Host, I've discovered humans are like that - usually our emotions control us, unless we're focused on controlling them. Those dang hormones.

Families

Argh. Today is just....I don't even know. I miss my friends, two birds hit the window, all the crying, and now this dumb magazine sale.

My happiness should not depend on whether or not I've finished the address book for the magazine sale. But I guess you have to do it for Chicago. Whatever. Me being in a bad mood, I've decided I will go to Chicago, and I will not turn in the address booklet things. If I participate in a magazine sale I won't be able to hold myself in high regards ever again. It's just not something I would do. I've tried out being a walking endorsement (yes, I went through the Hollister phase) and it's not fun.

I miss Karina and Amelia. I'm sick of Anthony being mean to me. I hate all these expectations. I hate ACE. I hate obligations that are stupid, like, hey I don't know, maybe the MAGAZINE SALE. Dang it. Just Dang It.

OMG
I LOVE YOU AMELIA.

you're just great, is all.

Alien Headache

An alien headache is a headache on the top of your head. It is called so because when said headache is massaged it looks like you've been posessed with an alien who is driving to you to suck out your own brain.

I knew I had one when I was getting out the camera to take a picture of the first accumulating snow of the year and found myself seeing that it was snowing in the kid's office. Well, I knew I had the headache before then. I realized how delusional they can make you when I saw snow on the inside. I had tomato with lime soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner. And mini chocolate chip cookies. It was great.

We talked about chasity and sexual purity for both of my lessons in church. In each one, I said, 'euu' (pronounced noise of disgust or grossedoutedness). The first time was when one teacher said, 'It is wrong to have sexual relations at age 14'. The other was when a leader was telling us how she went to a party at age 14 and it was a make out party AND the parents were upstairs allowing all these 14 year old kids to intertwine in the dark and spread herpes...through...the mouth, luckily. But still. The world these days.

Leader: The wise man saw a figure making dance - like movements by the sea...
Hannah: A finger?
Me: Figure.


I just keep picturing a finger dancing on the seashore. What's more, later in the story it said, the figure appeared to be that of a young man. Insert finger where it's needed. I just thought it was funny. And we sang How Can I Keep From Singing? in YW. I thought it was a good or a dream at first. I thought we were done with it. It always catches up with you. But in two weeks....well, if you didn't know (actually, you wouldn't know probably) HCIKFS is what we sang at our choir concert. And I hate that song. And now we're singing it. Again. Ahh, life, though doest (doest?...its pronounced dust, either way) grant surprises (unquestionably).

The Crash

A bird hit our window. It hurt it's wing badly. My mom used to work with birds, and she says it isn't broken. I was very worried about....4 seconds ago I'd say. Pretty upset. Then it flew away. But seriously. Us dumb humans, making houses and thinking we're so safe in them, with so many windows to see the world we're populating. And then we cut down all the non-native plants and chop down all the rose bushes and thistle and make moles leave by driving stakes in the ground that send out less than pleasant noises to them. We scare them to death every week mowing the lawn, we've driven deer out of their homes to make houses no one can afford with the economy like this. It's kind of pointless. Kind of rudimentary and...resentmentful (new word) to do stuff like this. At the same time, what can we do? We can't remove ourselves. We just keep living, and with our lives comes causing damage to there's. a harsh reality.

Forgive me for stealing your song Amelia.


The August Rush one.

Annoyance 0.6

These are taking over my blog.

Annoyance 0.6: Spending all day cleaning and turning around to see it being messed up. But you can't be mad because THEY spent all day cleaning and you probably unintentionally messed up what they cleaned.

Annoyance 0.4 and 0.5

Annoyance 0.4: walking to your room, totally exhausted and flipping the switch to find an exhausting amount of stuff waiting to be cleared off the bed. By. You.

Annoyance 0.5: Forgetting to add music to my list of things to help me through the hard times.

Math.

Okay, so I've considered. Math is...not...well it's good. Just not easy. And I've also discovered what I need to get through tough times.

Gingerale.
Anthony.
Clare.
Sam.
Amelia.
Delaney.
Karina.
Gmail.
Chocolate.

Who needs anything else? They're the best. And of course all my other friends. Of course you guys. Of course. Not...being sarcastic.

Dang It. And double dang it because titles can't have italics.

me: did you do the additional practice too?

8:17 PM Sam: yes

me: do you have it?

Sam: yes

me: do you want to try and explain it

to a slow learner?

8:18 PM Sam: which one?

me: 6b

Sam: whats the question?

8:19 PM me: If the pattern continues, what is the total # of squash that would be produced by day 22? By day 26?

Sam: yeah?

how do you not get that

wich word

whcih

which

me: no

8:20 PM im trying the cross multiplication

Sam: why?

me: but i keep getting like

.4 squash

Sam: that makes no sense!

me: i dunno

is there a different way?

Sam: wait

me: sorry sorry

Sam: ok

so

at 15

you have 1

me: mhm

Sam: and then at 16

you have 3

and then you have 5

me: yeah

Sam: then7

then 9

then 11

me: ok

Sam: etc

me: sure

yeah

8:21 PM Sam: its really not that complicated

just continue the pattern

me: well okay

that seems....too easy

Sam: it isnt

you are over thinking it

all they want to do

is make you continue the pattern

me: patterns

ok

8:22 PM so scratch the one over 360 equals x over 880 hours?

Sam: huh?

8:23 PM me: i coulda sworn i was onto something

Sam: uh...

i hate to say this

but

my opinion of you

sort of dropped slightly

me: okay

8:24 PM 1) ouch

2) doesnt everyone overanalyze sometimes?

Sam: well

not that far

me: it was because

a squash would grow every 12 hours

since each day there are two more

and a day is 24 hours

8:25 PM Sam: only after

15

me: no i know

Sam: and the equation is

me: i had incorporated that in there

Sam: y=(x-15)2-1

me: ok

well i didnt get that equation

because i was

8:26 PM multiplying 22 by 24

to do is in hours

Sam: right

me: *it

i know it was wrong, okay?

im not dumb

well, i kinda feel that way right now

maybe i am

8:27 PM but it made....there was a chance it could have led...it felt like i was onto something at the time

Sam: just

leets talk about something else

me: ok

8:28 PM Sam: i g2g

The Issue.

P
R
O
C
R
A
S
T
I
N
A
T
I
O
N


Not even that. Just blowing things off. I get bored or frustrated and quit. I say to myself, "Becca, you're going to fail if you never do your work." and then I say back, in a bored and irritated voice, "College Schmollege. I can work at a Quiznos or something." And then I sigh and say, "You should be ambitious." And I snap back, "Shut up!"



Please don't win McCain. I'll love you for the rest of your life (I don't want to get myself into too-deep-a situation). (Cruel? Sorry.)

Twilight

Okay, teaser trailer time.
The funny thing is, it actually made me laugh. I wasn't even bursting out laughing, but I was crying but the end of it. Emotional Becca, right? Either way, this'll be entertaining. They're trying, sure. It's a kind of humorous trying attempt. The tears were tears of amusement, for clarification.

Post-Armadillo Ramblings

I just had to have one more title with the word armadillo on it. Blogs are great for that kind of stuff. Update: I'm obsessed with Losing Lisa by Ben Folds.

We got Burger King again today. My mom said no Subway because she said, and I quote, "I don't like sub sandwiches because they taste bad." Yick. Taste bad my eye. This is Subway. Five dollar foot longs. Subway. But moms...or well, just me revise. My mom will be my mom. I'm sure other moms would probably object to Burger King instead of Subway.

I will move to Canada if McCain wins. Okay, fine. I will not. I wish. But, I will be unsatisfied, and lash out at anyone who tries to rub it in my face. I will be disheartened. I will not be at my best. If Obama wins, I'll be on top of the world. Gosh. He better win. I'll probably slide into depression if he doesn't. Well, no. Maybe. Most likely not.

So I kinda want my room to be done. We're not making much progress. I need my headboard, which is like the essence of room in this scenario. It's like, if the headboard isn't there, it's a Oreo without the cream...and one of the cookies for good measure.

Yup. Not in the best mood today. It's been boring, been anxious about the election, been kind of annoyed and then more annoyed because I shouldn't allow myself to get annoyed at what I'm becoing annoyed at.

-Scissors

Armadillo 101 (my new obsession?) & Annoyance 0.3

I keep pressing (well, this only happened on this and the last post) publish post right as I'm typing the title of the post. And on this last one, I muttered to myself "Edit Post" as if reminding my brain what to click. Haha...ha...ha. Anyways,

Did you guys know that armadillo is Spanish for little armored one?


Oh wait. Before we move on to what will inevitably be a long information-filled post that probably no one will care about except perhaps myself and my future self looking back on it as a resource. Let me just get an annoyance in there, for good measure. Annoyance 0.3: when people don't care about something someone else is doing, but watch/read/participate in the whole thing, complaining the entire length of however long the activity takes, then informs you how no one cares, and gives everyone who asks them about it a scathing review. If you don't care, don't be a part of it.


Get this. I always thought of armadillos as little tykes, but really they're usually about 30 inches in length. Which is about....2 and a half feet. Man. I always thought they were like half a foot long. So that was a culture shock. I don't know what culture, but I definitely felt culture shock.

Oh. So some armadillos can be 5 feet long, some can be four inches long. But the average is as listed above. The 'armor' is made of these little scales called scutes. (Good to bear in mind in case you're ever in dire need of a creative random fact).

The South American three-banded armadillos are the only ones that can actually roll up into a ball. Other have too many plates (You can have too many plates? That's a bummer).

Aha. Okay, so the North American nine-banded dude jumps straight up when surprised, collides with car fenders, yada yada, thus the 'armadillo on road' collection of photos. They can stay underwater for six minutes and will sink unless they blow up their stomach (with air, not explode it) which can double in size.

So there's some armadillo info, which will no doubt probably be of no help to you or me....ever.


But ya never know.

Armadillos

Today in German we started working on Journal Entry No. 2 for our Character Journals. My original character proved to be harder to work with then imagined. It's hard to figure out ten things Squirtle the Pokemon likes to do. So I swapped to a turtle named Nora. I had to pick a friend for her, so naturally it was Binky the Armadillo. I've always known I liked armadillos, and thought they were pretty much phenomenal, but I've never known what armadillos actually are; or what they look like for that matter. I do recall a few hazy El Dorado memories, but nothing to be consider a resource. Right there, my friends, is your armadillo. Pretty cool, right? Actually, that's a bit scary. Just a tad. When I was searching for the image, a lot of the photographs of the armadillo were them lying on their backs. They looked....almost furry on their stomachs. Are these armadillos dead? Are they playing dead? Are they just chilling? Is this a ritual? Do they have to do this to get into certain "cool" armadillo clans? And I'm talking, lying on their backs in the road. Guess I shoulda mentioned that earlier. So more to come on uncovering the mysterious armadillion way of life.

Saturday

I went home and started to do my chores, and got a call to babysit. So I accepted because I need to moola for Chicago, and got picked up at 11:30 to babysit til 3 for a 3-4 year old and a 12-18 month old. It was....okay. Well, at first I couldn't get Aviva out of her highchair, because you put the tray on top of the seat and then have to remove it to get the baby out. But surprisingly, saying 'It's okay' and playing peek-a-boo worked like a charm while I attempted to figure out one of my life's mysteries - how to remove the stupid tray from the high chair. So I did, then we went off to find Max, who had been playing in the basement. Not surprisingly, they have a problem with sharing with each other, which I should have seen coming but I didn't. I realized that it seemed like I was taking Aviva's side and I always hated when my parents did that to me and my brothers, so I suggested playing on of Max's favorite games - hide and go seek. After that, Max played 'let's see what will happen if I do everything my mom told the babysitter I couldn't do'. He started playing with this microphone thing and turned it up really loud and got Aviva crying, and tried watching TV and we played the 'you push the on button I'll push it again to turn it off' game, until he finally gave up. Then it was time for his nap, and he wouldn't sit up on the bed, he wanted to sit up his headboard. Since Max was doing it, Aviva of course wanted to. I read them some stories, then for his last story he picked on of those things were it's not a real story, just these flaps you lift up and slide to see more of the picture. Aviva was all over that. Then Aviva wanted to leave, but I couldn't let her wander the house alone while I tried to passively force Max into sleepy-land. So then Max declares he'll open the door for her. I told him Aviva needed her nap too, so I brought her downstairs and got her a bottle and milk, and found Max just sitting on the stairs when I started to go up them. I told him Aviva needed to be rocked (which was true, I wasn't improvising) and that he needed to at least be in his room reading or playing or something. So I took my time rocking Aviva to sleep, just like she took her time getting tired, and then she started crying, but her mom had said she would and that she would lie down and be asleep in a couple minutes. And then Max was missing. This was not a good situation. There was a lake in the backyard, a million hiding spots, an accessible stove and fride, the garage door was open. I called my mom in a panic, and he did show himself, and then of course refused to take a nap. We talked about Halloween, he brushed his teeth for about 40 minutes, had me pick him up while he was wrapped in a blanket and take him to pre-assigned destinations, and then went on youtube typing in gibberish and looking it up. But, I made 30 bucks - so all's well that end's well.

Annoyance 0.2

2) When people tell you you're not done with something, then list everything you have left to do.
I'm not done. Okay. Leave me alone so I can get done.

I wanna be one of those people who stays up the whole night obsessively working on a collage that's not for a class or for any purpose but to be obsessed over until satisfied with, singing myself hoarse all the way.

One of those people who can be realistically abstract, and spends most of her time doing work in Starbucks.

Sort of crafty, sort of artsy, sort of unique.
There should be a word for it. But there isn't. Always words you never need to use, but the useful things go unnamed.

Huh.

Branden: Becca?
me: Yeah?
Branden: I don't know who to vote for.
me: Uh-huh.
Branden: I want to take a turn changing the world, but I want everything to change instantly.



I know man, I know.

Annoyance (more coming soon, no doubt)

1) When people come up and just grab something out of your hand. Like, I had this pencil grip with a squishy hold, and I adjusted it to fit the way I hold my pencil, and someone comes up to me, removes the pencil from my hand while I'm trying to write, readjusts my pencil holder, hands the pencil back to me and says, "Sorry, that was just bugging me."

Helpfulness

1: I need help.
2: Okay, what do you need?
1: The answer I got doesn't make sense..
2: What is the question asking?
1: To find the min. and max. for Barry's walkie talkie's range.
2: I see. Barry.
1: But somewhere in the equation I messed up.
2: Well, where did you mess up?
1: I don't know.
2: Your answer is impossible. Take it out, it doesn't fit.
1: (stares blankly)
2: Do you understand?
1: No.
2: Do you need help?
1: Yes, that would be nice.

Strangeness

I'm finding my life to be rather entertaining. Everything all of a sudden just appears to be so weird. It's humorous in a totally bizarre, unintentional, not even realistic way. I kinda love it.

I checked out maximumride.blogspot.com, and to my insane relief it was the 'real' Fang's Blog. Not one of those crummy 'learn about the books' things that were something totally different (and meaningful) in the real story.

Do you wear make-up (Amelia, my only visitor)?

Confessional No. 2

These confessionals will probably turn out to be like Amelia's blue ink things. Only more self-absorbed and not as entertaining.

Sometimes I act different around my friends as I do alone. I don't make an effort, and they don't try to change me. It's just like, my mind swaps...gears and I'm still me, but I'm not "Becca by herself with time to rattle on in her blog and play around with how she feels about the Twilight series and time and time and time to just think" Becca. I'm the more social version. Whatever being social when you're me is. I think I'm the same person...but also part of me is different.

Also, I can't decide about the Twilight thing. On the one hand, it's horridly mainstream. Well, that's an exaggeration, but still. And also, the amount of Flair on Facebook having to do with Twilight is grating my patience to powder. Edward is great, sure, I like him in Midnight Sun a lot, because I can understand where he's coming from. He's a very intense individual. But characters in books are never truly like real life characters. Sure, everyone wishes Jim on the Office was real, and Max was real, and Hogwarts was a real school. Well, I have. Call me hopeless. I say it's having an imagination. All right. With a touch of hopelessness. Due to naught but the abstract, slow-learning persona I have. And now people are hoping to death Edward is real. Sure, it might liven things up (ha, like the world hasn't been having as much action as to keep everyone's attention lately).

Also, I took a political test to see where...I stand I guess. According to the results, I was a Libertarian edging toward the left side, which was liberal. I know the little separate things that I see as right, but I've never really gotten into politics before.

Confessional

Fine, fine. I admit it. Windex infuriates me. There's a secret to using it that the world is aware of but has been kept from me. Streak-free shine my eye. I feel like I'm attacking the window, not cleaning it. Horrible.

Tatters

The blog title is titled as such because my mind is always scattered - in tatters, per say. I'm not the most logical, I'm not the faster learner, I'm not the most keen - but when something clicks, I run with it.

So, 6 hours (roughly) after picking up a bunch of movies, The Golden Compass, and the second and third Maximum Ride (4th wasn't there) I've completely done with numero dos. I like Max. And her name. And how comebacks and strength seem to seep out of her.

Fillers (Ink Formation)

Somedays I just feel full of words.

I finished Maximum Ride : The Angel Experiment. I am rapidly becoming obsessed with the series, instead of counting sheep, I lay in bed waiting for sleep to overcome my overactive brain, I try to predict the next plot twist, the next Eraser attack, or just fantasize about Max and Fang and the gang. In truth, I don't count sheep. Never tried.

Today during the MEAP we had our Science round of boredom thrown at us. It was the worst. Usually the MEAP is ok, I just speed through it without a care and try to get more reading time. This was just - blech habba noshna wabba. Yeah; that bad. There was one totally-out-there question that asked for metric tools of measurement and metric units of measurement for length, mass, and volume. Actually, the order was mass, length, volume. So, for mass I put a scale and grams. Then it gets tricky. The first thing that came to mind for length was a ruler, so I jotted that down, eager to be rid of this stupid quest to bring more money into the school. Then I put kilometers for the unit. Thing is, you need a pretty big ruler to measure kilometers. Literally, a ruler that long and ginormous could slice a nursing home to bits. Then, here it comes - volume. I've never been good with volume, always seen it as sort of an abstract concept. So I had no clue when it came to volume - measuring tools. For units, I put kilograms. And then -get this- I made up a word for the tool. Totally serious. Raxometer.

On the bus, I was finishing Max Ride and it was dark, so I brought a flashlight. And this kid Luke said, Becca, what's up with the flashlight? Sticking to the basics, I replied, Well see, I can't see in the dark.

My locker buddy has proved that you can fold a paper in half 7 times. The seventh fold was achieved by him carefully placing in under the leg of his chair and sitting on it. For three hours of the day. He's miraculous.

The other day in math Clare reached around and tapped the shoulder opposite of the shoulder of mine nearer to her. I mean....convoluted sentence alert. Whatever, you get it, I think. And I turned toward her and she was looking totally blank and almost dreamy, and she said in this abstract voice, What? Which made both of us crack up, naturally.

I miss Amelia Diehl.

Also, today in math, Becky and Clare were talking about graphing and equations and our teacher taking a medical leave, and I looked up from where I was sitting on the floor and said, Once when I was little, I got in a car wreck. Clare looked at me and started laughing, and then I added, But don't worry, I got out of it okay. in a voice that suggested otherwise.

I'm working on a collage.

Our concert! Ohmigosh. So, one of the basses can sing soprano. And my teacher won't let me sing alto. The guys sound good on whatever they sing. I blatantly refuse to accept that they are better singers, pinning it on gender. And they get to sing this awesome latin piece, on the balconey of the auditorium. It's the coolest song. I mean, not a "I need that on my iPod" kinda deal, but for a choir piece, it's pretty awesome. We're singing (yet another) song about singing. After El Ritmo De La Noche (The Rhythm of the Night), Oh Music Sweet Music, Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy - we are now faced with Sing We and Chant It and How Can I Keep From Singing? If you heard the song How Can I...., you'd be able to keep from singing along with no trouble. Also, she changed keys - moving upward. We're already singing a high E. And, not to seem arrogant as my current soprano status, but moving it up higher is not going easy on the altos. The sopranos don't sound all too put together either. It's going to be a sad concert day this coming Tuesday.

Nathan has been telling me what to do, and it's killing me. Of his annoying lines, the ones that get me most are:
Prove it!
Don't lie (occasionally he'll add 'Lying is bad!)
Don't tell lies! (sounds the same as the one directly above, but there are subtle differents in tone quality which he says them)
and then of course,
telling me what to do. Gotta hate that.

Ryan: Party at my house! Everyone's invited? (motions to me) You comin'?
Me: Hmmm...will there be Fresca?
Ryan: Everyone'll be there!
Me: (more determined now) Will there be Fresca?
Ryan: Yes, there will be Fresca.
Me: I'm in.
(the party, unfortunately was cancelled)

Did you know, by the way, all porcupines float in water?

there will be legos (the large little kid kind) and air hockey and mario kart and lemon ginger cookies and rice krispie bricks and corn chips and the office and tire swings and crab apples and bug repellant and hugs and jokes and pictures and...grass and gmail and perhaps even a touch of....something special.


you in or what?

I got

Maximum Ride : The Angel Experiment
by James Patterson

Olive's Ocean
by Kevin Henkes

and

An Abundance of Katherines
by John Green

What about the antelope?

I think sometimes, when you're telling a story and you don't include a last name, the person might think you're talking about another person with the same name. And then the story sounds different to that person, because different people say different things differently.

Jackpot

I wish that....

the things you lick on envelopes came in different flavors

you could have a record of all your gmail statuses

something stayed clean more than 24 hours after cleaning it

hair didn't need to be washed so often

instead of buying stuff in a billion different colors, you could change the color of one shirt

pencil erasers regenerated

Ephiphany?

Life is not necessarily about understanding people - It's about respecting them whether you understand them or not.

Yo Gabba Gabba

I LOVE THE HUSH SOUND

Before School Quandries

Wonder what quandries means...I'm too lazy to look it up. Hopefully it's none too explicit.

Yesterday was a half day. And Branden's birthday. I went to school, had a bad time in 1st hour, had an good time in 2nd hour and a pretty-ok 3rd hour, then rode home on the bus.

Ryan (whispering to me): Luke is like, inviting himself over to my house and trying to get me to make lunch for him
Me: How do you feel about that?
Ryan: I don't wanna make lunch for him.
(as he and Luke were getting off the bus)
Ryan: So, what are you gunna have for lunch?
Luke: ...Well, no one's at my house, and I don't really have any food...you have food right.

Then I hung out a couple hours with some friends, and I saw Rent for the first time, but I had no idea what happened after the movie because I was laughing a LOT yesterday. And I was sitting next to Anthony, so when you put two and two together (well, it makes four, but you know what it means). Then I had piano, and then opening Branden's presents (well, he opened them) and his birthday dinner and a church activity of making halloween gingerbread houses. Hannah was there! and I laughed a ton again. I also totally lost it at dinner and COULD NOT stop laughing. My parents just stared at me a little weird. It was a strange day.

So I guess I'll go kill time on Yahoo Answers now. See ya lata alligata (I feel like I've ended a blog post like that before - I don't want to be redundant.)

Of Course I'm Encouraging Her!

I think a lot of the time when people talk very surely about something, they're kidding themselves and don't have a clue. Just a thought. I had pizza for dinner.

Today I was on Yahoo Answers, which is just another aspect of my life, and there was a question in my favorite category that said:

So.Ladies, are you more of a girly-girl or a tom boy?
And an answer that said,

"im a girly girl and i love it!

girls are supposed to be femenine, not boyish"

That irritated me because I don't like when other people set the rules for other people like that. I mean, sure, leaders and teachers and stuff. But someone like a friend telling another friend how they're supposed to act if they want to stay friends. They're not your friend if you're like that. End.Of.Story. It doesn't have to be hard.

The Weekenders

There was a show called the Weekenders...I liked it. I wonder where it went. Yeah...I kinda liked it. Well, I don't remember it that well because I don't know where it went, but, you know.


Me: Is Stein around? Stein! Stein! Guess not
Nick: Stein! Nope, he isn't.
Me: (sarcastically, but of course Nick didn't recognize that) What makes you think he would respond to you instead of me?
Nick: He hardly knows you! He's my neighbor.
Me: Maybe that's exactly why he would have answered me. He knows you, so you guys have talked and probably argued and he's probably decided what he likes or doesn't like about you. With me, I'm just a person and we don't know each other so we don't have anything to disagree on. Maybe that's why he would answer me.
Nick: You just made no sense.
Me: You're not making sense!

Journalling (whatever that is)

What is journalling to you? Is it a recount of your day, a bunch of things you learned, and exercise or reading log, and joke sanctuary, a haven for secrets and boys and drama, a place to pour out all your emotion into so you can suppress feeling anything else for most of time, a place to complain, a place to gush, a place to record, a place to grow.

Hmm I like this song. I should make a new playlist, but I don't want to. It's Lights and Sounds by Yellowcard.

I started to read Olive's Ocean in L.A. today. It's good so far. I think I'm lapsing back into old routines. Like, let's chat then do hw. It's better to just get it over with.

My mom is taking me to a nutritional healing center. I'm kind of glad, even if they take me off wheat or sugar. It would be nice to resume breathing comfortably through my nose on a regular basis. I swear, I might use up my chapstick supply. And I have many Chapsticks.

Don't you just love when someone does something nice for you? It's pretty great.

My floor came today! It's hickory hardwood.

I'm working on learning to keep a straight face. It's going...okay I guess.

My Wish List:

New iPod nano in orange (or to get my old one back)

5 by 5 rubik's cube

Flight of the Conchords poster

The Office poster

Dwight bobblehead

Tickets to Kansas for spring break

and, kind a little maybe - a North Face




I'm just sort of rambling. Don't got nothin to talk bout. D was sick today. BG has a 7th grade girlfriend and Rennie yelled at them for making out on the stairs. Nathan's friend is in my advanced math class. My science teacher does not like our class. And a new record - three big textbooks! History, Science and Math.

Listening to Dolla Dolla now. I guess it's technically called Sweetest Girl (Dollar Bill)

Wow. I'll be amazed if anyone can stand getting through this. I wish life were more interesting. It's just...wake up too early, go to school, be tired all day, come home, linger around not really doing anything at all, or karate or church stuff or family night or piano, eating too much food out of boredom, scraping up barely enough time and effort to complete the hw, going to bed, waking up too early the next day. Saturdays are cleaning the kitchen, dining room and three bathrooms and my room and my desk. And Sunday is church from 1-4.

Progressive Dinners

If you read my blog archive with just the titles you really have no idea what the blog entry is about. It's just a long convoluted phrase or a song stuck in my head or something that happened that day. It's not what the entry's content actually is. Tonight I did go to my first progressive dinner. And I guess I've found out a couple things in my life.

Guys don't like girls who try too hard. Well, I guess some guys do. But if you want to actually have guy friends you shouldn't giggle and twirl your hair at everything they say. Well, let me rephrase that. If giggling and twirling your hair is what comes naturally, sure, go ahead and giggle whilst twirling. Don't let me change who you are. And I know, now you say, well who says you're an expert? Why do you think you can share your knowledge of relationships with the world? Well imaginary protesters of my creative writing - I'm hardly sharing it with the world. Amelia will see it. And Anthony might if he looks at my blog in a week or two. But aside from that, it's no one. I hardly (there's that word again) need to explain at all. I don't think either of those two would care.

I don't want to be one of those people who leans too hard on others. Like, you can't go on dealing with problems yourself - you need them. There is no other way but to have them help you fix it. Because if you lean too hard on a friend they fall over, and it's almost like you pushed 'em down. No one wants a friend who abuses them like that, on top of being super needy. I want to be one of those people who likes having friends and values friendship highly, but who won't fall apart if a friend leaves them.

Just like...someone who can hold there own.

Still haven't started Brown's history thing.

I think my jellyfish Sniffly will be from the Sunken City of Atlantis

Hey guys. I dunno if you know this, but stuff is going on. The U.S. maybe just be on the brink of the second Great Depression. This is actually happening. To the U.S. In the U.S. The U.S. is involved in a lot of stuff. Most of it does not, however, drastically forfeit, change, or twist the lives of middle class ordinary teenage soon-to-be citizens trying to yank their grades up enough to make a living in adulthood. Because, see, people don't usually come here to wreak their havoc. "We" pack up and go to them. Under any conditions - invitations are definitely not necessary. We're kind of like that spoiled little kid who invites themself over to your house and plays with all your toys and eats all your food and pushes you around. But at the same time, whenever something happens to us, we take it so cooly I wonder if all the adults of the country have combined to either

a) pull an April Fool's prank on us - In September
b) try to disguise the fact that we may actually have to control our portions for more reasons than to prevent obesity

Anyway, yesterday the stock market took the biggest plummet in U.S. history - 707 points, was it? Danggg dawg. I dunno stocks, but that doesn't sound pleasant. Also, the war. And the war debt. And the innocent people dying. And the starving people dying. And the people dying of diseases because they can't pay for the shots or don't have doctors in their area. And the poor people in our area. And the homeless people. And Mad Cow Disease. And Bird Flu. And allergies. And hay fever. And money issues. And people not listening to one another. And population growth problems. And whaling. And nuclear waste dumping. And oil spills. And weak fingers like mine. And the hole in the o-zone. And he-said, she-said dating. And Juno plots turning into real life stories. And drugs, and alcohol, and sex, and life.

We got a lot on our plate.
And I'm not too hungry, are you?

Puffs Plus

For me, there's only one Kleenex. Well, on favorite. I still use other tissues. I'll use toilet paper, for pete sakes. I'm not the kind of person who says "It's my way or no way" because there are always multiple ways to do things. Anyway, my favorite tissue is Puffs Plus Lotion. It's very soft.

Becca, I do believe the expression is "For Pete's sake" not, as previously listed, for pete sakes. I do believe you're right Becca.

Yesterday I watched this show called Jesus Camp, about people who are extreme Evangelists. It was interesting, sure, but you have to keep an open mind watching it if you're not an extreme Evangelist yourself. It's very different - very intense. So brace yourself if you plan on watching it.

So in redoing my room one wall is green, and the rest are a white shade so artfully called Deep in Thought (fitting, for me, don't you think? Only jokin'). And this bedspread and then these weird shades. Hardwood floor, a cool rug, and huge headboard, and a custom closet. This is the first time redoing my room since I was about 6, and I had a fake phone that was pink and soft with polyster/plastic fake flowers and a itchy purple fluffy polyster thing wrapping around it sort of like a lion's mane-- sorry, you couldn't possibly have known I left, but I did. My brother gave me a birthday invitation to his party, so I had to go over and use my grandma's phone to RSVP. the family got a kick out of it - what else am I here for?-- and a barbie bedspread, and a giant desk (in my room at that point). But it'll be different now. I used to actually share a room with my brother, and I would always yell at him to be quiet. I couldn't pronounce his name at that point, so the 'th' became an 's'. But still - it was cool.

I'm very glad I found my kindred spirit in terms of weirdness. Me and H totally get each other and are really weird together. While I usually get confused looks from even the best of friends at my bizarre, mostly dry and sarcastic with of course, some strangeness thrown in for good measure, sense of humor, or inquiries like, "Is it a Becca thing?", H gets it. I hope we get to play ping pong again.

Yeah. That was fun.

I want to get an Office poster, and a Dwight bobblehead, and a Flight of the Conchords poster for my room. I was thinking about a Dundie award thing too. All available at the NBC Universal Store (which I guess means, as Steve said, if The Office was sent to other planets, if they have even the slightest bit of life possible, they would respond, even aliens get obsessed). But I was thinking, I don't want to looked totally hooked on Office, but at the same time I want people to know the truth up front. And I guess the best way to make an accurate first impression is to do it without words, because the verbal ones have tripped me up in the past.

And guess what? My fingers are very weak. So I have to exercise them with sticky tack. And strengthening balls. The works.

at one point in this blog it says on where it should say one - so if on doesnt make sense, it's probly supposed to be one. i just couldn't find it when I went back to look.

Rooms

I don't know what I want to be when I grow up, no clue
I honestly just speculate, how about you?
I'm going through a Dr. Seuss phase, starting five minutes past
As you can tell from this lively post it's really been a blast.
My room is being redecorated - re-done, re-excavated
It's all new to me but I believe interior design to be rather underrated.
You see, a lot of thought has gone into this process.
Paint colors, bedding, floor, closets, but none the less
I still don't know if being an interior designer is what I desire
It would be a crusher if my room burned down in a fire


and now when my brain goes dead.
i don't think i'll have an open room
sam is right, it's too self-centered.
and even thought my room is amazing to me, no one else will care as much as i do.
sometimes other people's opinions help your own out.


I don't know what re-excavated means either.

Today was....(insert adjective)

Wow. Today. todaytodaytoday. I think I need a hug. Not a little brother hug, where's it's either paired with repeated...and repeated...and repeated pats on the back, or ends after a couple second, when they yell "freak!" and dart off to otherwise occupy themselves. Not a dad hug, where he says, "Hey Becca, thanks for the hug! I really love you!" after every time. Not a mom hug, where it's gentle and she rubs my back then lays out her strategy for banishing my stress or melancholyness. I guess, just a wordless, firm, helpful help. I don't need it of course. But they can help upon occasion. Sometimes a hug is all it takes.

When do you call it when The Office episodes are a disappointment? I thought I'd never see the day. I keep waiting for something to happen, and nothing does. How frustrating. I've started keeping a journal. I find it helps, and even thought I may not realize it (I'm sure you all have - well, the two of you) that I have a lot to say. It kind of helps, because I haven't really been as wild with my emotions as last year. Putting it out on paper helps me recognize the emotions are there, even if it doesn't include throwing tantrums and screaming my head off. And funnily enough, I don't remember ever losing my voice last year. I guess my esophagus saw the terrible preteen round coming and buffed up, giving me sort of a temporary immunity for the world of frog-in-throatness, which would have undoubtedly driven me up the wall last year. But now that I've decided to sort of control myself, whenever I get hyped up, my voice fails on me. A terrible thing.

What offends you? I don't get offended too easily. I don't like people hating on my family. I don't really care when B-H tells me Proactiv would really help, because my forehead had gotten so read over the summer. And I don't mind people informing me that they know more about something then me, as in "You don't really know anything about Halo, do you?" or whatever. Because, though it's probably rhetorical, it's simple enough to respond, "Nope."

Well, Imma go strengthen my pinky's. Seeyalateralligator.

What couldya do with a yoga mat?

I'm sick and tired of making lists.

I swapped to German! Yay! and Advisory too!
the only thing I feel bad about is that I'm leaving all my stuff in Spanish behind for everyone else to clean up and my partner is partnerless and me and Florian did that interview for nothing.

In choir (my voice was somewhat back - i lost it over the weekend), I realized, as I had before, that lower notes were much easier to sing. And as I'm a soprano (I had just finished singing a high scale and then jumped down to the alto part - you trip over one note and you're sentenced to life as an opera singer. No, I like being soprano. I just wish I coulda proved through my scale singing that I am capable of doing all alto, mezzo and soprano), it's been difficult to adjust to not being able to sing the part I'm in in a choir class.

hw.

Pop that....bub...ble

Let me just say, I do not hate Miley Cyrus or Hannah Montana. I just believe they/she/them/those two/you know...are overmarketed. N yeah.

We were going to get Burger King, but B wanted a Whopper and couldn't have one and yadda yadda yadda.

The problem is I start to make a point I care a little, if not nothing about. It's an undercurrent of competitive-ness, needing to get the final word in. More of a final word than, 'yeah. definitely. you are so right.'

I'm starting to speak like people in The Office. Minus the funny. I'm saying Absolutely and Definitely and when people talk I insert a few yeahs and ohs and uh huhs along the way for good measure.

And you know when you feel like you're writing something, and it just clicks as be THE TRUTH or THE RIGHT THING TO TYPE and almost like something in your conscious clicks and you leave the world where making typos is an easily caught plague and itching your cheek is a secret system in hope of stimulating your lagging thoughts and brain power. You fly, your innnr writer is unleashed and everything is crucial, you can't stop....and I just had to leave the computer to see who was calling on the phone.


Point
in
case.



i should do hw.

The History Channel

The History Channel is pretty gory. Today I was watching a program that originated from the very source mentioned earlier and they were talking about this guy with became famous from his being brutal and in general, brutality. He had a system called 'the ordeal' where he would stick (if you don't like gory some-may-say-disgusting tales of historical means of rooting good from bad, visit this blog for entertainment more entertaining awe inspiring and smile inducing then this one. Or this entry.) The ordeal was this guy sticking a pepper in a pot of boiling water and having the prisoners stick their hands in the pot and retrieve the pepper. They would get their hand all taped up, and a coupl days later a priest would see if the person's hand was healing. If it was, they were innocent. And if it wasn't they were guilty.
The History Channel is one of my least favorite channels. I have a spare few I really steer clear from - the sex channels, the country music video channels, MTV or VH1 when Shot at Love and Room Raiders and Rob and Big and Making the Band and all that are having marathons. I like The Paper and ANTM fine. But some shows I could do without.
Sometimes I wonder how much a person has to pay their employer to have the job they have. Now I'm not stupid - I know people work from employers so the employers can pay them. But I just cannot comprehend how certain people have the life situation they have. They have to be paying their moey providers with something pretty darn convincing, valuable, or unique. Pity only goes so far, especially in business, right?
How are some people paying the bills when they don't know how to operate with the career they've established for themselves?
I want a job, Besides the PTO thrift shop I mean.

Outside Seriousness with Cornflakes

A Miley Cyrus song has been stuck in my head for a couple hours. You don't know how that eats at you - unless you're a victim yourself. Nah, Miley's okay. It's just, I keep feeling like I'm going to wake up and realize with a so huge it's almost life threatening wave of relief that it was all a dream, a very surreal dream. I think people paying so much for gas is taking a toll on their sanity, because Miley and marketing are like Romeo and Juliet. Macoroni and Cheese. Batman and Robin. PB and J. Thunder and Lightning. Cherry and Passionfruit in the new ultimate favorite TicTac combo flavor of mine. Laughter and jokes. But at the same time...it's like Edward and Bella. Sure they're totally intertwined, but from the outside view, in all honesty, they shouldn't be. If Edward had just made one slip, she'd be toast. Well no, she'd be drained of blood because Edward would be unable to control the overpowering urge of desire that would drive him to the ends of the Earth just to...just yeah. I mean, she's so overmarketed I can't go on the computer for half an hour and go online without a like advertisment coming up saying 'Would you like to take the free MILEY CYRUS QUIZ? Find out how much you know about the legendary pop superstar teen!" I mean, Miley Cyrus has basically taking over the world. Kids in Make a Wish want to meet Miley. As their wish. They can have anything in the world. And then of course, the fact that you can't pick up a single magazine without her face being plastered either on the cover or on one of the inside pages. She's like...like...water for her fans. They've grown to a point where if Miley is taken away the world will erupt in chaos.

As if the world wasn't in bad enough shape already.

No but really, I'm rather undistressed. That whole thing was sarcastic. Well, except I do believe she's enormously overrmarketed and that the world isn't in the best position if something happens, but the rest was just fluff to support (what I think is the obvious) my theory (theories, you mean. You're never content with just one, are you?).

Huh. Guess I missed blogging. Can't stay away, can I? Stop asking them questions, you're asking enough of them already, to read what you've written. Isn't that torture enough? Now cut that out, I'm a good writer.

Haha...actually I am not crazy. Not in that way anyway. And I am sarcastic. Don't worry about me, I've been tired today.