100 Blocks in a Year

I have found an awesome new blog! (purely by chance) about quilting! The ingenious author of this blog is a talented foreign quilter who is going to challenge herself by quilting 100 blocks in 2010! In case you blockheads (that was my mother's phraseology, she is sitting like a slug here beside me/reading intellectually, another of my mother's phraseologies... though still like a slug) don't know what a block is (you see, it was rather punny) a block is a part of a quilt--so in the end she'll have made 100 quilt parts, or the equivalent of 5 quilts, each unique, and then she'll give them to her quilting guild and they'll make quilts for charity. All very upright and honorable work here, you see. You all should definitely follow her, to catch up on her progress! (and bother her about her neice, who is me)

See you all in the New Year!
~Lucy :)

I really do cry!!!

The cheese guy is gone!!!!!

Tonight was his last night at Whole Foods. We'll probably never see him again. :(

Me and mommy went to pick up some kettle chips (the only bag of chips I have ever been able to eat in entirety, in one sitting) and while we were there Mommy went over to get some cheese, but there was only one left of the cranberry-brei variety, and another lady had almost gotten to it too, so of course they had to fight over which one of them wanted it the least. The other lady won, though, and so we had to take it. We felt very guilty.

But during that exchange we'd asked the cheese guy a question, but we were still trying to convince the lady that we really didn't want the cheese we had been reaching for at the same time as she had, so we were rather preoccupied--and I waved once, but Mommy didn't notice when he waved back, and it was rather saddening.

So we went away awkwardly figuring we'd get to say hi next time, as he looked rather busy with a cheese grater by the time we'd lost the fight and gained our cranberry cheese. But then, when we were checking out, he came over to say he was sorry if he'd sounded too brisk; he'd been busy at the moment, but wanted to say hi to us.

And then he said that it was actually his last thirty minutes there. And he looked rather sad--you know, that funny thing that happens where a person's eyes are just a little suspiciously red and wet (although he was the cheese man, so he did have naturally watery eyes). and I thought that he meant, before he got to go home for the weekend, and so I was like "Oh great!" because of course I must miss the point at the most crucial of junctures.

But he explained that actually it hadn't worked out ("oh no!" *ackward grimace at misinterpretation*) and this was his last thirty minutes in the store; but it had just been a little too big--and he either got there at five in the morning or left at midnight; which did sound HORRIBLE! So we asked him what he was going to do, and he said he didn't know, but he might crop up somewhere else randomly, you never know. We said he should take one of those round the world vacations, and he said he would love to, if only he could convince his wife to quit her job too--and we said we certainly were glad he'd come over to say hello (although really it was more to say goodbye), and then he had to duck back to close up his cheese counter, and we had to sign the grocery check. And that's the last I'm ever going to see of the cheese guy!!!!!

However, I do hope he can go on that world vacation. And I thought of a great job he could take up--he could be a cheese caitorer (Spelling???)!! (only I didn't know whether or not I should mention anything about cheese, as I know he's really into it, but I don't know if being into cheese is the kind of thing you point out about a person) to like weddings and things, and he could advise people on what kind of cheese went with what--and he'd easily get the market, because he'd know just how to arrange it and what it would go best with and stuff.

But still!!!!! Our cheese guy!!!!!!!!!!!! And there can never be a more perfect cheese guy! *how I cry*!!! Not even kidding!

Good luck cheese man!! (retire early and live in glorious cheese happiness!!!) 

The Magical Potato Man (yes, these exist)

The Great Potato Itself!!! (no, I'm not even kidding, this is really it)

Ok, so we've all been to Linux right? Yes? No? Never heard of it? Whatever, it's like twelve o'clock at night and I had too many sweet teas. Ok, so, all the restaurants in the food court at Linux have turned into ones that you see really often right? Like, they've got Sbarro's and Chick-fil-a, and California Pizza Kitchen is kinda a one off, but it's also kinda separated from the food court, so it doesn't really count. But there's this one little place called 'The Steak and Potato Factory' and I've literally never seen anything quite like it in my life. For one thing, it's genuine retro, like, not Johnny Rockets retro, but my grandma's kitchen retro. I mean, the sign is, that's really the only thing. But it's neon (baby pink and baby blue--why for potatoes and steak? I don't know), and it's got the wording for 'Steak and Potato Factory' in those bubbly Steak and Shake letters, and of course the neon kinda flickers from time to time, and the glass casing is distressingly cracked, etc. There's this long off-white counter that kind of barracades the workers in. They're stuck in this little three foot long space that contains these posters that are kind of decaying, that show the pictures of the different foot types you can eat--only it's mostly, you guessed it, Potatoes and Steaks (variated, of course). And there's this little Korean guy behind the checkout who's memorized my order by now, and he's about sixty years old and he always smiles and acts really friendly when you approach cuz no one goes within three feet of the place. (I know that doesn't seem like a lot, but there's only so much room to walk around in in that food court). Anyways, he's the only Korean in the place, and the rest are Mexican, which is kinda weird, because usually it's always one type of race in a certain restaurant right? But I guess potatoes and steaks are generic enough so that it doesn't really matter. Anyways, the older guys always kinda disgusted with his Mexican counterparts because they're always chatting with each other in spanish or texting or fiddling with their crosses or something (they all have crosses, I swear this isn't a cultural predujice, although this post is really starting to sound like that huh? Don't worry, I'll cut it out--I just think older Korean men are cute... the aww! kind of cute, by the way, like Rebecca's grandfather...) but as soon as he gets your order and yells it at them they all snap into attention and start making the potato. I always get a king potato by the way (that's what they're called), and it comes with melted cheese and whipped creme and chives and bacon and it's the best thing in the world--and they serve it to you to go or eat in in exactly the same way--only if you get it to go they won't give you the tray :P ok, so, you kinda slide your tray (if you're eating in) down the off-white countertop towards the other end where there's this greasy little lamenated sign that says 'pick up here', which really has no point in existance, because the counter space is so small you could really stand anywhere to wait for your order. But still, it just adds to everything, and besides, it's fun to slide your tray down. So the guy who's fixing the potato is always really friendly, and he always smiles when he hands it over the radiator like thing they've got that blocks the customers off from the employees. And then you've got your potato! Now, the only thing is, the little Korean guy who takes your order always drops his smile as soon as you go away and starts looking kind of sad again. I think it's cuz he's the only one in the place that speaks Korean and not Spainish (and none of them speak English by the way--which is extra fun, you know, like how they do it on purpose at Willies? Except not on purpose! haha!) anyways, so I got to thinking one night, that he's really not all that lonely because you see, he only LOOKS like a sad little old guy who sells potatoes. Actually, when he goes back into the kitchen he can go through this special little door and go back to the world he comes from (because you can do that in big malls like Linux) and in the world where he comes from he's actually a potentate--very important and all, and everyone gives him a lot of respect right? Cuz they know how wise he is, and he wears a scarlet robe that's embroidered all over with gold (and it must be scarlet--but it doesn't look a thing like a komono, because we're not being racist here, and I would never mix up my races or anything horrible like that) no, it kind of looks like the robes in World of Warcraft that the undead wear, except more colorful. Anyways, he's got command over this whole valley back there, but every once in a while he has to pop back up and smile at someone who's looking at his decayed potato charts and ask if they want anything. But he's happy to do it because he knows that really he's just pulling the wool over all these suckers, and that he's really NOT a potato seller-he only looks like it. I'm sure he has magical powers as well. That's why the potatoes taste so good :) and they really do y'all--go to a 'Steak and Potato Factory' if there's one near you and get a potato--you might have a magical potato man too!!

Woooah...

if you click the 'next blog' botton at the top of my page, it goes to this all black background with spanish writing!! *creepy...*

you should try it!!!!

on second thought--it changes each time you click the button. But try anyways! (you might get lucky!)

Posts I have to Write!!

The Great Potato (and the subsequent Mexicans and Korean)

The Greatest part of the Great Gatsby (how many greats can you use?)

My Haircut

The Duck Pond

The Running Through History Informational Meeting

oh! And sorry for missing Frances awesome lynx signing party!!! it was me mommy's birthday, so I went shopping with her--Lillian, Annsley, and Ashley--that is not the last good-bye party y'all will be having!! And I promise I'll be at the other ones, hope y'all understand :)

THE CHEESE MAN

Ok, so, as a lot of y'all know, my family has this... kinda strange obsession with cheese. We get our cheese at this place called Alons (which I was just describing to Emily an Frances this Friday--was it this Friday?) Anyways, the cool thing about getting your cheese there was that, initially, the guy who gave you your cheese legitimately looked like a mouse. And he had this guy working under him who also looked like a mouse, only the Checloslovachian kind because he couldn't speak any English. Anyways, so this guy knew EVERYTHING there is to know about Cheese. Like, he would go on and on about how they would let the cheese get ripe, and what kind of animals they got it from, and all the different laws about importing cheese into the country--it was great! But then one day he disappeared. We didn't see him for a couple of months except once when he was explaining something to his counterpart. After that the Checlooslovachian mouse took over. What's even sadder is eventually the Checloslovachian mouse went away too, and now we're stuck with a markedly un-mouse like woman who looks like she's more interested in the peircing at the tip of her nose than in her customers. It was a very sad time for us, as you can imagine. Being cheese freaks, we like our cheese to be given to us by people who are as freaky about it as we are. Well, this weekend, about a year after Cheese Man's last appearance, I decided that I didn't want to get any of my homework done (bad idea), and that instead of studyng for a Latin AP (piff! Who needs to do that??) me and my mom should go picnicing at the duck pond!! (which is, by the way, another blog entry for another day). On our way there my mom had a stroke of genius in suggesting that we step into Whole Foods and get a snack to go along with our books we recently purchased at Barnes and Noble (so... Frances was entirely right when she said my family is obsessed with books and cheese). So we go into the place, and we're looking around, mostly at all the macaroni and cheese, and all the sudden we stumble on their sad excuse of a cheese isle, and we're trying this grotesque cheese, when there's this voice behind us that's like, 'hey I know you--you used to shop at Alon's a lot didn't you?' AND IT'S THE CHEESE GUY!!!! yay! So, we asked him how he was doing--and he said he was doing pretty good, that he'd left Alons because it was a change that needed to be made (they wouldn't make him a partner even though he was like the smartest/oldest guy they had in there), but that he got paid more anyways at Whole Foods although the days were longer (they work until ten o'clock at night!). He said h did miss Alon's though, the way it used to get pretty insane in there on Saturdays. We said we'd missed him, and that we hoped we'd seen him again sometime, and then cheese man went off again to do something more with cheese. It was so weird to see him in a different outfit though! Cheese man has this kind of fuzzy look about him (like a mouse) with whiskers hat come out of his ears, and he used to wear this white smock at Alons and a white hat. Well, at Whole Foods he was wearing a red jacket and a red hat--which was totally different in the extreme. Anyways, it was really cool to see him again!

My Dentist Appointment...

dumdumdum...

So, why I'm writing about my dentist appointment is because my dentist, being rather old and getting on in years (he used to service my dad when he was a little kid--and he hasn't aged... at all... we suspect black magic), decided that he should become only a part time dentist and spend the rest of his life with his troublesome grandchildren, who usually come in and yank at the chords while he's trying to brush your teeth (very disconcerting). So he had to move from his old place in Peachtree Battle Shopping Center (since the rates went up and any place that's any good has had to move!! stupid Peachtree Battle people...) to a new place downtown in this ugly mechanical looking buildling. Talk about the little guy getting pushed out! *how I cry* (my title!! ooh, what now!) Anyways, so, I was in his office, and it's all grey and cold, and the nurse who'd been with him ever since I was a baby wasn't doing my teeth--it was some other lady, who was all grumpy cuz she wanted to go home. And I missed the other nurse so badly because I've never had anyone else do my teeth for me except for the last time when I came in and someone else did it that time too--only they were nice! Anyways, this lady ended up being nice too, she just needed to get out of there, because if she didn't in time her day care center would charge her A BUCK A MINUTE to keep her kids! Can you believe that??? Anyways, so, I was sitting there on the chair, thinking about the old dentist office and how nice it used to be, and I remember my language arts teacher in sixth grade saying that he told us all these stories (because he told a lot of stories) about random people because he wanted to keep their memory alive forever, so that they'd never die, and that we should do that too with the things we really liked, kind of immortalizing them, you know? So, the old dentist office: (I shall describe it, to your great sagrin (is that how you spell that?))

The waiting room was entirely done in pink, save the fake palm tree leaning lopsidedly against the corner next to the doorway down the hallway. The hallway was where all the dentist rooms were, there were only three, filled with little green easy chairs with headrests on them, and lots and lots of wires poking everywhere. The cielings, which were made out of the cardboard our school's cielings are made out of, were rotting slightly, and they gave off a nice musty smell that dampened the overall affect of listerine that the place had gradually come to accumulate.
Behind the welcome desk was a lady named Tracy. She doesn't work with them anymore now that they've moved to the bigger office cuz she got fired. She was always in a bad mood, but that's only because she'd been in a crash and gotten wip lash that'd never fixed right, so she had to get a steel plate in her back and constantly be on pain killers for five years straight. But when you got her on a good-pain killer day, she was very nice, and she used to keep little pictures drawn by her children all around her little walk in cubicle, that you could see as you took different forms to fillout from her through the opening from the cubicle into the waiting room. The waiting room always had little baby books mixed in with People magazines, but you never had to wait long, because Sherry, the nurse I was so used to seeing, would come and get you after a few minutes, and take you down the long hallway. You would pass, on your way to the seat of green doom, this little cupboard which was their form of an employee's lounge. It had a little cylinder filled with instant creme for coffee, and a microwave that looked like it'd been unplugged since the 1980's. Then she'd sit you down in the green chair. The chairs were all tinged green, and the light she pulled over your head to look into your mouth was really cracked, but tinged yellow. There were always landscapes on the walls, really bad ones that you couldn't quite make out but which were somehow comforting when you were getting a root canal (though that might have just been the laughing gas). My mom usually came in with me though, when I was little, to get her teeth done first to show me that it wasn't scary. And I would wait with her in the room, instead of the waiting room, because there was only one nurse in the room and she didn't mind, and of course Dr. Bodner (that's my dentist's name) didn't mind either, and Tracey probably didn't really care much. While I was waiting for my mom, I would sit in this little alcove underneath the white countertop that the dentist used to put x-rays of your teeth on and models of teeth and stuff like that, and always little pamphlets about how gengivitis was bad. The little alcove had one side, the side the patient could see, whitewashed, but the otherside, the side no one could see unless they were in the alcove, was still wooden, and had little creases in it from where the fake wood had been fitted together. I had this little pouch of cars I kept with me, and I used to drive these miniature cars up and down these cracks in the wood until it was my turn to get my teeth done. Sometimes I would play with beanie babies too, or fiddle in my mom's purse. They were the same cars I would play with in the cracks of the sidewalk outside La Madeliene's before it went out of business, and I still have them :)

Then they would clean my teeth and tell me (usually) that I had some sort of problem and should come and see them again. And I remember one time they let me take home a Mr. Sippy (the thing that sucks all the drool out of your mouth, in case your dentist was particularly unimaginative and never gave it a name--you do have to name things, you know, when you're about to stick them inside a kids mouth--just don't name green beans, like my dad did--I would get to attached to them and he'd make them dance, and then I was like, "like hell I'm going to eat that!")

They were always very nice and now the place's gonna be turned into some fancy restaurant, but I figured I had better write down that little alcove before I forget all about it. I don't want to forget about it, you see. Even if I do hate the dentists.

The Easter Guy

A ukulele! (that's how you spell it dammit!!)

So, on Easter day, me, my aunt, and my mom decided to go and visit the statue of liberty--cuz what else do you do on easter day? And it was thirty degrees out, but I'd promised myself that I'd wear nothing but dresses for new york--so I wore my little strawberry one. It's blue, does up in the back, and has... yeah, strawberries on it. (don't think of Desdemona's handkerchief). The only problem is, as I said before, it was thirty degrees out and we had to wait in this long line right next to the sea, with that wonderful sea breeze wipping us about at like a million miles an hour for like... twenty minutes before the next ferry came to take us over to the statue of liberty. The wind was so bad it kept on blowing my dress up so I had to hold it down, but I refused to zip up my jacket because it was springtime and I wanted to look springy and not emo like all the smarter New Yorkers around me. We were in a long, windy line, you know, one of those with the ropes that twist you round in circles until you come to the end. and next to this line there was this druggy guy, and he had this little lucalali (spelling?) with him and looked like he hadn't showered in about eighteen months and slept in the open bathrooms at central park. But, he was totally drugged so he didn't really know the difference, he just kinda kept on singing. My aunt said she'd seen him there the last time she'd come (about six months ago). he'd been in the same spot (apparently she likes visiting the statue of liberty even though she's from Canada). So... we were sitting there, me freezing my butt off while trying to hold my dress down (I don't know if I've been calling it a skirt or a dress this whole time, but it was a dress, I just get those two confused, sorry). So the guy stopped singing and was like, "look at that girl there in line--she makes it look like it's summer, I'm gonna sing about summer," and I was like, "who me?" cuz the barriers for the line were kinda thin so even though we were two rows into the line we were still close to the little wall at the beginning of it, where he was sitting. And he was like, "yeah!" and so, he sang about summer, with his little yucalali (notice the spelling keeps changing), and then he was like, "where are you from?" and I was like, "Georgia," in this horrible southern accent that made people turn around. You can picture it in your head right now... or, hear it. Yeah, it was that bad. and he was like, "allright! Now I'm gonna sing about comin from Georgia!" (and note, I was the only person in the line he picked on... why... why me?) so he sang about Georgia, "whether comin from Savannah or the Stone Mountain land..." it was a great little song for coming up with it on the spurr of the moment, and he seemed to know a lot about Georgia's geography, which was kinda creepy. Anyways, it actually kinda made my day, seeing as I was freezing my butt of and scared my dress would flow away, but at least I got two songs written for me out of it :) Yay! Thanks easter guy!!

On Second Thought

Apparently a lot of esoteric stuff is Hindu.

Anjali...

Arcaneness is Scary!!

Frances, what are you trying to do to me? Screw my mind over???

The Little Baseball People Below

They really creep me out!!
What the hell is that??
aaah...

ARCANE???

This is me being arcane!! And... it has something to do with baseball? Oh well, it was the first thing that popped up on google (and I like to illustrate my posts)

According to Frances I am arcane. Only, I didn't know what it meant, and Frances was being reluctant, so we both looked it up on Webster's Dictionary. Apparently, Frances things I'm esoteric... which is really exciting!!! Other examples include: mysterious, confusing, hard to understand. Hear it people! I AM MYSTERIOUS! This will be probably the last time any one calls me anything even remotely as exciting as that. Be happy for me. Frances says she just 'felt' like calling me arcane, but I'm sure she actually meant I'm mysterious! Isn't that exciting! I'm mysterious... I know I do have a weird laugh sometimes. And I bought a book about druids this weekend--the new ones, not the old ones. Oh they're so cute! (talking about mysterious) there's this one picture of this guy with a whole lot of zits and a really bulbous nose and little flabby eyes and he's wearing this fake plastic laurel on his head and holding a harp. It's really hilarious!! That is definitely what I think of whenever I think of mysterious. Officially, as of now. Though I'm going to say my kind of mysterious is definitely different, because I don't want to think of myself as bulbous and zitty (though this description is probably true)

Please Note: I probably sound like Frances right now, it's because I've been reading her blog for like the last thirty minutes with her in the computer lab (I know, I realize I have no life, but you must admit--Frances is pretty exciting). Have y'all ever had that thing where you hang around with someone too much, or read something for too long, and then you kinda think and sound like that person for a while? It's really creepy--I guess it means I have a susceptible subconcious (that means I'm prone to hypnosis and fantasies!! Again, Mysterious people!!) Anyways, sorry if I do sound like Frances. I wouldn't want to steal her unique voice, especially after she wrote about how unique mine was!

P.S. YOU CAN CHANGE THE COLOR!!!???!?!?!?!?!?!? THAT'S AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Hopper Tingley Feud

Root for the Hoppers! (They're me!) (This is not them, this is a picture of Tingleys I got off of google--could it really be the right ones?!?!?)

Ok, so we all make jokes about Canadians. Most people picture them as big muffler-wearing folk with deer hide for a collar around their fuzzy black coats, huge boots, and red, striped, hunting cap, complete with a gun from the civil war period, when guns still jerked back about thirty feet after they went off. Picture that.

Ok, so, we've got a few of them, say, about five. Only two of them, they win the lottery and get landed with 45 million dollars. These, are my mothers cousins. They're freckled and fat and look like human versions of rollie-pollies that smoke and wear heinous scarves.

Now, these two go in to some drug deal (hm... now you know where I get it) with some other fellows, only somehow they back out... lots of legal mumbo jumbo... the judge scratches his chin and ponders... the result was that someone didn't get the backing they wanted. These were the Tingleys. These Tingleys, well, they (and keep in mind the beginning picture) decide to get even, so they go about it in the only civilized way you can get even--which is to burn down the barn.

Yes. This is what you do when you want to get even (and if they don't have a barn, look for an outdoor shed, those are great too). So, the barn gets burned down...

A few months later they're having 'drive-by harrassments' and these may sound kinda dull... but again--picture above (most notibly the gun, cocked and ready... and possibly the smelly hunting hat. You might want to emphasis that as well).

Eventually, they got into court, yelling at each other and stuff. The judge was relatively useless, and told them they should just get along as friends. The point being, of course, that they'd tried at that and kinda failed about three months ago (where were you judge? -- well i was actually at my mountain house (this is the judge talking in a squeaky voice)) anyways, so, the papers get ahold of it (remember, there are 45 million dollars that are kinda floating around in there somewhere, and it is Canada) and soon enough our cousins start appearing in the newspapers, you know, in those kinda mug shotty looking photos they use for terrorists and hardened criminals??

Now keep in mind, this recent describes the Tingleys--not the Hoppers. Tingley bad. Hopper good. You can just tell by the name. I mean, I might be biased but...

My grandmother is keeping the newspaper clippings and showing them to us on our regular intervels of visiting them up there. It's all very exciting.

So, my blog for the day, woohoo! (and now tis time for dinner!)

was Mayan civilization cannibalistic

Well was it?

(this just popped up randomly as a suggestion for my Title--I have no idea what it was doing there)

I love Grace Tribble!

Following People

This is a creeper title. Please ignore it.

How do you follow people???

Because I want to follow all of you (mmm...) but I don't know how!!!

It's really depressing--someone please tell me!!

Also, there's this lip piercing/nose piercing video that's really cool to watch on youtube, only I don't know what Rachel typed in to find it, but that's ok

Sorry Frances!!!

Ok, so, yesterday, or some day this week (i actually can't remember, isn't that extremely sad?) I had to sit by myself in English. See, our English class is situated so that all our friends can't squeeze into the number of seats between one clump and another clump of other people, so one of us always has to sit by theirself (I know this is confusing, it doesn't really matter anyways) so, some day this week I had to sit by myself and Frances came and sat next to me. but then today, Frances came in late so she had to sit by herself--only I didn't notice until the class had already begun and there was no way that I could go and sit with her!! So, she ended up looking lonely all class, and i felt bad because I didn't save her from the fate she'd saved me from the few days before!!! It was horrible. And Frances really knows how to look sad too--i dont know if she (or you, if your reading this Frances) was doing it on purpose--but omg i felt so bad!!!

Anyways, this is a little incoherent due to interruptions of Grace's funny quotes from math, and a game of knots, but just thought I'd elaborate on my jerkiness. Sorry Frances!!!

My Watchband

Because watchbands are a necessity of any post.

And because I don't think my mom's here yet.

Ok, so I got my watch about two years ago in Switzerland. this is actually an epic story--and it's legitimately true, even though I can't spell that word. See, I really wanted a swatz watch, but I already had a watch so my dad didn't let me get another one until the very last minute when we saw them at this booth in the airport and they were going for really cheap. So we got one--it's a tweetybird watch with little sparkles all around the face and a little heart in the middle, and the cool thing was--it had this awesome (still has) cloth band for my wrist, with tweety bird in his various poses all over it, coupled with hearts (which is really weird, if you think about it, because isn't tweety bird a boy? talk about emasculating) anyways, I think that's the right word. So then I started running. And so the stupid little sweatband kept on getting sweatier and sweatier until you could hardly see tweety bird and it was disgusting. I am sure you're recoiling from your screen at this very moment. Well, we went back to Switzerland (no i am not a freak, i swear to god, we just stalk swiss people, i mean, everyone has to do that once in their life, might as well get it over with at any early age, right?) so, we were over in Switzerland stalking Swiss people, cuz, you know, they make like, awesome coocoo clocks, and we saw this swatz watch place and we were like 'hey! A way to get rid of that smelly old watch band!' so we went in, and asked for a replacement, because the swiss are so cool their change the watch band for you, at least, that's what they're sign said. but actually, the lady couldn't do it! she didn't have any more tweety bird watchbands, and apparently picking out another watchband for the watch just wouldn't work (i never did find out why, but I think it's because she was one of those German speaking Swiss ladies, and Germans are of course, heriditarily unhelpful--JK!! I'm part German, well, French, but apparently we're related to Constantine, so he's kinda a three-in-one deal right?) anyways, so, as I was saying, we couldn't get a replacement for this stupid watchband because the lady was being all german about it, so we couldn't get a replacement and it's still smelly to this very day! In fact, getting smellier with each track practice I participate in (because I always forget to take it off) so this entire post has really (I know, surprise, it's like subliminal messaging) been an argument against my doing track, something that every good thing should be (meaning, every good thing should end in an argument against me doing track) because I really don't like doing track, and I think that if every good thing ended with an argument against it, then I wouldn't have to do it any more!! And that would make them even... gooder!

Chem Guy!

This is CHEMGUY.

Ok, so my Chemistry teacher, who is really awesome, has kind of given up on teaching my class, because no one really listens to her, so instead we watch these videos off of youtube called ChemGuy! He's this guy, and he lives in his basement in front of a whiteboard and a potted plant--and the really creepy thing is, he doesn't change his shirt! Like, it goes from episode to episode, right? Like, ChemGuy and Molecular Compounds! Or, ChemGuy and the Incredible World of ThermoEnergy! but in each one of them... he's always wearing this travel shirt with checkers all over it. It's kind of brownish and rumpled... matches his slightly-balding hair. Anyways, this guy talks in the exact same voice that Monique uses (again with the Monique--why do we always end up blogging about Monique? I mean, besides the fact that she's awesome... but she's probably getting pretty creeped out by now) anyways, he uses the exact same voice she uses for reading her chemistry problems out loud. And I'm not a stalker, I only know that because she's sitting here right next to me doing them. Anyways, i thought it would be interesting to note--ChemGuy is the official stereotypical creepy scientist dude. You should look him up on youtube--he's awesome!! And the thing is, he's actually really good at explaining stuff (sadly enough, I actually try to pay attention--i'm that desperate) and all through the show (which lasts about five minutes) everyones making bets as to how many Star Trek convensions this guys been to. It's pretty exciting.

Monique's Phone

Monique's phone is awesome, unlike mine, it doesn't run out of batteries right when I'm trying to call my mom so I can get picked up!!! Gr... also, it has that fun game where you push that ball down that shaft and try and not get it stuck in spikes--best game ever. Anyways, in conclusion, Monique's phone is awesome, so... yeah!!

My second post!!!

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My First Actual Post!!!!

I have absolutely nothing to write about! But this is my first offical post, I suppose, since the other ones were kinda practice. Anyways, I've just been looking at these really cute pictures from Monique--they were so ADORIBLE!! So bug her so she can forward them to you. (or dont bug her, but they really were cute). Anyways, and also, my math test got postponed and my latin test got postponed indefinitely (which is even better!) although everyone reading this will probably already know that (not that anyone is going to read this).

Let's see... what else? hm... my phone died, and got out of batteries... um... oh! Shelby Dover's phone has the coolest little game--you pop bubbles.

Anyways, I'll see y'all tomorrow I guess... blogs are, as I said before, only exciting when exciting things happen to you, and nothing ever happens to me! Only now my wrist hurts from writing so much (not much, but still, carple tunnel comes on surprisingly fast for some people) anyways...

Oh! Did I tell you--that actually happened to my aunt? She got sitting-at-computer syndrome and had to get all taped up into her correct position again by a doctor because she couldn't get out of her slouch.

Anyways. I'm going to New York in nine days! Only five more school days... (is that right) before Easter Break!!! But I hope my parents will let us celebrate easter early--we still go and look for eggs on easter cuz the eggs are so fun to find and we all like the candy inside (the easter bunny always gives us what we like).

Also, do y'all have that weird home page in your school email--it's at the very top of the right side, and you go there and get this organized website thing--it's kinda creepy. Anyways... yeah, Monique and me have it, so y'all should definitely join the club of having weird, nonsensical stuff on your emails. Also--do y'all get spammed by Speeddate? (if you don't, then this is really embarrassing)

Anyways, see y'all tomorrow (I guess Thursday) although I suppose I shouldn't address this to people I know--I suppose by some weird chance I might have picked up a cyber-stalker or whatever they're called. Besides Brian of course. (and Rebecca... beware the asian)... great, now someone's going to sue me for being racially unfeeling. Sorry!!

See y'all!!

Merhaha!!!

Hi!

I'm stuck in a never ending free--Mr. Bell has made the entire school time warp so that he'll be able to execute evil plan B (give us a math test Thursday--when he hasn't taught us the material!!!)

More on that later...

So... on something... intellegent and relevant... that rhymes

There one was a poodle who swallowed a noodle.

ooh!!!

I just got a whole bunch of Jelly Beans from Elizabeth--they're Starburst jelly beans... in a cup :) mmmmmmmmm soooooooooooooooooooo good....

i hope the librarians don't see me sucking them down...

That Time I saw an Alien

It said hi.