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.