To answer your question, Melissa, no I did not learn my lesson the first time this happened, so yet a again I am stuck at home, wick, from overexhaustion and about 6 1/2 hours of sleep a night. (At least its more than Lauren K's 5). I over did my voice, so naturally I don't have one today. I have that raspy cough that sounds like there's a little pool of goo in the back of your throat....
And sick on Halloween! How lame. Good thing I'm staying in tonight anyway. I hadn't planned on going out at all. I did have the weirdest dream today while I took my 3 hour nap after lunch, though.
It was about me and a couple of friends, and we were in a hotel somewhere and the power kept going out. There was serious construction going on next to us, so the hotel owner thought that was why we were losing electricity. He asked my friends and I to go across the street to this restaurant, and to ask them to flip this switch that would turn the power back on. We went over there, and we got totally lost. This restaurant was five-star, painted completely white with velvet purple couches on skinny black supports, marble stairs...the whole shabang. We walked in and started looking for this lever that we were supposed to pull to get electricity running to the hotel, but we couldn't find it. We were there for hours and hours and hours, just walking around looking for this red switch. We finally got back to the front of the restaurant and asked the owner where it was. He took us over into the middle of the restaurant and flipped the little plastic case up and flipped it. We had passed that spot about 7 times, and never EVER seen it. We were so frustrated with ourselves, but we walked back to the hotel and there was power. A little bit later, the power went out again. We ran back across the street and went back to that spot of the restaurant. But we couldn't find it. ANYWHERE! Aghhh...it was so frustrating and humiliating.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
Touch Football INFO
If anyone was at all curious, this story is only about 25% false. I said before that it was completly fictional, but...not really.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Touch Football Part III
It's Sunday again! My new favorite day of the week. (It used to be Thursday...but I'll talk about that another time.) I came up with the next installment of this story on Tuesday, and I've been itching to get it all written down so I don't forget it. All of the other SOS stories sound great, and I love the idea of guest hosts. Here's the link to the wonderful Brillig blog and home of Soap Opera Sunday.
When I was a boy, my family held biannual celebrations on Memorial Day and Labor Day at our second home in Western Massachusetts. This was the first year I was allowed to invite my own guests, along with my parents', to this big party. Naturally, I invited Melissa, and naturally I invited Chase.
Chase was in my small branch, north of Scarsdale where we were the only two boys in our age group, 14-15. He was the only one for a long time, but when I turned 14 last week, we became the largest group in the young men classes. We were getting closer, but before my birthday, I didn't really know him all that well. He was an Aussie, and came to this country only a year ago. I already knew what the powers of his wonderfully accented voice did to girls at church, and I only prayed I could entertain Melissa long enough so she would never need to hear his pleasent croon. He seemed pleased enough that he was invited, and we decided to have a sleepover and carpool to the festival. Melissa also was excited about the next weekend, but preoccupied about the earth science exam we would have the following Monday - It amazed me at how fun-loving, hard-working, bright-smiling she was every day.
The day of the party was quite an interesting one. For me, things turned for the worst the second she asked me,
"Hey who's that guy over there in the corner listenening to his iPod?"
Of course, she was referring to Chase, and of course, I jsut about fell apart right then and there. This was my party and they were both my friends. How come she had to notice what he was doing and what he was wearing, and not my new sweater and jacket I had bought for the occasion. Besides, what did she know about him?
"Wait a minute", I remember thinking. "Maybe I'm overreacting. She was just making a comment." "She could have said that about any other guy in the room though", I argued back. "That doesn't mean she likes him. Does it?" This was another one of those female apprehensions that I was cursed with at birth. I hated being self-concious about what girls thought about me, and worse, what they thought about other boys. I just needed to get control of myself and get my mind off of it.
EUREKA!
I would start a game of football. Football was an all guy sport, and I would get a chance to show Melissa my hidden talent. I was always too small to try out for the school team, but I had loved this sport my whole life.
I jumped out of my seat and started the hunt. I needed at least 5 boys to start a 3 on 3 game, and maybe if I was desperate I could ask my dad to play with us. I told Melissa about our plans, and that I wanted her to be there. She agreed whole-heartedly, sending me into another frenzy of worries. "What if I drop the ball? What if one of the guys I find is better than me? What if Melissa falls for one of them?" I ran into (literally RAN into) Chase on my way to the backyard, so I asked him to join me. He said that he would, and helped me recruite more people. At the end of 30 minutes, we had me, Chase, Chase's dad, Melissa's brother Hank, and her dad. An odd number. Great! This wasn't the greatest group of people to play with anyways. Two dads and someone's little brother. It wasn't exactly my idea of fun until, wouldn't you know it, Melissa walks over and offers herself to be the tird player on her brother and father's team. This was not going at all as planned. I'm playing against her? I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate with ehr watching, but her playing too. I looked up at her face smiling brilliantly against the otherwise cold, dark day, and thought that mayube this would work out.
Our team started (me, Chase, and his dad), and we kicked a long punt out the back end of the "endzone". Melissa bounded over the ball and took it back to the 20 yard line where the next play would begin. She whipped her hair around in the wind till all of it sat on one shoulder and bent down to toss the quarterback the ball. Hank caught it, and ran around Chase, going down the whole length of the field to score the first touchdown of the field. Melissa laughed and ran down to congratulate her brother. As we walked past them to recieve the next kick, Melissa yelled,
"Just couldn't get in front of him fast enough, huh?"
Chase was quite annoyed with himself, so in his irrestistible accent responded, "You see, I haven't started playing yet mate."
I could tell Melissa was not expecting that response from him, and especially not in that accent, because she flushed pink and put her head down supressing a smile and giggle. We countinued the play, and after about 5 minutes, we scored another touchdown. Melissa was quite pleased again, and when Chase passed her on the field, he simply whispered, "No comments, please." She started laughing, and I could tell Chase was laughing too. I remember thinking how lucky Chase was that he didn't even have to try, and he made her laugh at the silliest things.
Chase's team had the ball, and he was the quarterback. Melissa planted herself right in front of him, so when he started running, she was hot on his tail. She was about an arm's distance away when he stuck his foot out behind him and tripped her on to the ground. I could see his wild grin as he continued running down to the endzone, scoring for the first time. I, of course, ran right over to Melissa to see that she was okay. I reached my hand out, and at the same time saw another hand reach out. Melissa looked up and grabbed Chase's fingers, and he wrapped the rest of his palm into her grip. She let out a sigh and brushed herself off.
"Look at that. Good as new."
"I'm glad you're okay," he said, playfully.
"Yup. I'm fine."
"Next time you better watch your feet," he cautioned in that same playful tone.
Melissa laughed her happy laugh and the game begun again.
Our team was winning, 5-3, after playing for about 45 minutes. We weren't really keeping track of time or rules, although Hank and his dad were getting quite caught up in it. Chase and his dad weren't that accustomed to all the rules of "fake rugby" as he called it, so I had to go through alot of it with them. That gave me a sense of control and power, which I liked, and it made Chase seem like the greenie who had to be taught everything, which I liked too.
We were just about to finish up, as it was getting very dark and very cold, when Melissa ran the play that would make her team the victors. Her brother tossed her a side lateral right after she hiked it to him, and she bolted up the sideline. Right after Hank passed it, I could tell that she wasn't going to make it. She was too far back when she started the run, and Chase was making for her at top speed. He was a faster runner than her, but not by much, so laughing wickedly toward her, he reached for the ball that she had a tight grip on. He couldn't wrench it loose from her while they were running, so he swept her into his arms and forced her to run the opposite way. The two struggled with each other, laughing hopelessly. His arm was around her waist trying to fight her to the ground, and she was trying to run, but unable to due to Chase's strong hold on her. He decided to stop trying so hard, to give her a chance I imagined at the time, but when he stopped the down ward momentum, they ended up in a posture close to that of the beginning of a waltz, his hands around her waist and her hands around his neck. Time seemed to freeze for me. There she was, completely engrossed and intoxicated by his very presence, when I was right there watching all of this. Their parents had dissappeared, and all that existed was those two and me. I had never felt so alone in my whole life.
When I was a boy, my family held biannual celebrations on Memorial Day and Labor Day at our second home in Western Massachusetts. This was the first year I was allowed to invite my own guests, along with my parents', to this big party. Naturally, I invited Melissa, and naturally I invited Chase.
Chase was in my small branch, north of Scarsdale where we were the only two boys in our age group, 14-15. He was the only one for a long time, but when I turned 14 last week, we became the largest group in the young men classes. We were getting closer, but before my birthday, I didn't really know him all that well. He was an Aussie, and came to this country only a year ago. I already knew what the powers of his wonderfully accented voice did to girls at church, and I only prayed I could entertain Melissa long enough so she would never need to hear his pleasent croon. He seemed pleased enough that he was invited, and we decided to have a sleepover and carpool to the festival. Melissa also was excited about the next weekend, but preoccupied about the earth science exam we would have the following Monday - It amazed me at how fun-loving, hard-working, bright-smiling she was every day.
The day of the party was quite an interesting one. For me, things turned for the worst the second she asked me,
"Hey who's that guy over there in the corner listenening to his iPod?"
Of course, she was referring to Chase, and of course, I jsut about fell apart right then and there. This was my party and they were both my friends. How come she had to notice what he was doing and what he was wearing, and not my new sweater and jacket I had bought for the occasion. Besides, what did she know about him?
"Wait a minute", I remember thinking. "Maybe I'm overreacting. She was just making a comment." "She could have said that about any other guy in the room though", I argued back. "That doesn't mean she likes him. Does it?" This was another one of those female apprehensions that I was cursed with at birth. I hated being self-concious about what girls thought about me, and worse, what they thought about other boys. I just needed to get control of myself and get my mind off of it.
EUREKA!
I would start a game of football. Football was an all guy sport, and I would get a chance to show Melissa my hidden talent. I was always too small to try out for the school team, but I had loved this sport my whole life.
I jumped out of my seat and started the hunt. I needed at least 5 boys to start a 3 on 3 game, and maybe if I was desperate I could ask my dad to play with us. I told Melissa about our plans, and that I wanted her to be there. She agreed whole-heartedly, sending me into another frenzy of worries. "What if I drop the ball? What if one of the guys I find is better than me? What if Melissa falls for one of them?" I ran into (literally RAN into) Chase on my way to the backyard, so I asked him to join me. He said that he would, and helped me recruite more people. At the end of 30 minutes, we had me, Chase, Chase's dad, Melissa's brother Hank, and her dad. An odd number. Great! This wasn't the greatest group of people to play with anyways. Two dads and someone's little brother. It wasn't exactly my idea of fun until, wouldn't you know it, Melissa walks over and offers herself to be the tird player on her brother and father's team. This was not going at all as planned. I'm playing against her? I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate with ehr watching, but her playing too. I looked up at her face smiling brilliantly against the otherwise cold, dark day, and thought that mayube this would work out.
Our team started (me, Chase, and his dad), and we kicked a long punt out the back end of the "endzone". Melissa bounded over the ball and took it back to the 20 yard line where the next play would begin. She whipped her hair around in the wind till all of it sat on one shoulder and bent down to toss the quarterback the ball. Hank caught it, and ran around Chase, going down the whole length of the field to score the first touchdown of the field. Melissa laughed and ran down to congratulate her brother. As we walked past them to recieve the next kick, Melissa yelled,
"Just couldn't get in front of him fast enough, huh?"
Chase was quite annoyed with himself, so in his irrestistible accent responded, "You see, I haven't started playing yet mate."
I could tell Melissa was not expecting that response from him, and especially not in that accent, because she flushed pink and put her head down supressing a smile and giggle. We countinued the play, and after about 5 minutes, we scored another touchdown. Melissa was quite pleased again, and when Chase passed her on the field, he simply whispered, "No comments, please." She started laughing, and I could tell Chase was laughing too. I remember thinking how lucky Chase was that he didn't even have to try, and he made her laugh at the silliest things.
Chase's team had the ball, and he was the quarterback. Melissa planted herself right in front of him, so when he started running, she was hot on his tail. She was about an arm's distance away when he stuck his foot out behind him and tripped her on to the ground. I could see his wild grin as he continued running down to the endzone, scoring for the first time. I, of course, ran right over to Melissa to see that she was okay. I reached my hand out, and at the same time saw another hand reach out. Melissa looked up and grabbed Chase's fingers, and he wrapped the rest of his palm into her grip. She let out a sigh and brushed herself off.
"Look at that. Good as new."
"I'm glad you're okay," he said, playfully.
"Yup. I'm fine."
"Next time you better watch your feet," he cautioned in that same playful tone.
Melissa laughed her happy laugh and the game begun again.
Our team was winning, 5-3, after playing for about 45 minutes. We weren't really keeping track of time or rules, although Hank and his dad were getting quite caught up in it. Chase and his dad weren't that accustomed to all the rules of "fake rugby" as he called it, so I had to go through alot of it with them. That gave me a sense of control and power, which I liked, and it made Chase seem like the greenie who had to be taught everything, which I liked too.
We were just about to finish up, as it was getting very dark and very cold, when Melissa ran the play that would make her team the victors. Her brother tossed her a side lateral right after she hiked it to him, and she bolted up the sideline. Right after Hank passed it, I could tell that she wasn't going to make it. She was too far back when she started the run, and Chase was making for her at top speed. He was a faster runner than her, but not by much, so laughing wickedly toward her, he reached for the ball that she had a tight grip on. He couldn't wrench it loose from her while they were running, so he swept her into his arms and forced her to run the opposite way. The two struggled with each other, laughing hopelessly. His arm was around her waist trying to fight her to the ground, and she was trying to run, but unable to due to Chase's strong hold on her. He decided to stop trying so hard, to give her a chance I imagined at the time, but when he stopped the down ward momentum, they ended up in a posture close to that of the beginning of a waltz, his hands around her waist and her hands around his neck. Time seemed to freeze for me. There she was, completely engrossed and intoxicated by his very presence, when I was right there watching all of this. Their parents had dissappeared, and all that existed was those two and me. I had never felt so alone in my whole life.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Jam or Jelly?
I know I am new to the cyber world of Radioactive Jam, so please, for my sake explain to me the relationship between RaJam and jelly.
Is ?he/she/he? jelly? Or jam? Hence Radioactive Jam...I am so very confused.
Could someone explain to me the deep complexity of internet blogging. It is all too much for me to handle.
Thank you.
Is ?he/she/he? jelly? Or jam? Hence Radioactive Jam...I am so very confused.
Could someone explain to me the deep complexity of internet blogging. It is all too much for me to handle.
Thank you.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Touch Football Part II
I apologize to everyone for making you wait this long, but i honestly could not find any time yesterday to do my blogging. It was one of those days when I planned everything out, where I was going and when, I even scheduled in time for blogging, but time caught up with me and I wasn't even able to finish things I needed to. Nonetheless, Part II of my SOS story begins now:
If anyone ever wonders, I saw her first. She was my friend before she was anything else to anyone else. From the moment I saw her, I knew. I loved her. Her long beautiful brown hair would bound when she walked and swayed in the wind like amber waves of grain. She was always so happy, optimistic, and kind to those who were more than rude to her. She was the victim of practical jokes in the locker room and was followed constantly through the hallways. I believe it was because all of the other girls in our freshmen year were horribly jealous of her. None of them ever were interested in me, and I was okay with that. I was willing to wait and befriend Melissa. She was gracious, and enjoyed my company. After I began to talk to her and make her a part of my social group, other people began to accept her and stop treating her the way that they did. I distinctly remember asking one of my school friends what their problem with her was. Her answer was something like this. "She just thinks she's so cool. Who does she think she is? Taking over our school like that...". I, to this day, have no idea what she was talking about, but at least I know why Melissa was so poorly mistreated. By the sixth week of school, her story was history. Of course, her radiant presence and brilliant smile never ceased to blow the wind out of me, but I am sure mine was the only case like that. We grew to be best of teamates. Wherever she was, I followed. She would help me with my math while I helped her pass earth science. Her laugh whenever I told a humorless joke would ring in my ears for days. She left me woozy after catching my books when they fell in the hall. She reached down for my social studies binder with one hand, and with the other patted my collar on my shirt down. My stomach fluttered. I remember wondering whether any other guy could be any more lucky than I. I envied my fellow guy friends who always made their girlfriends feel light-headed and weak, and weren't the victims of their powerful spells. I won't say that Melissa and I were a couple, although every one thought that, because she seemed to be the only one who didn't know I was madly in love with her. She hadn't even met Chase, and yet he had more luck than I did in winning her heart.
If anyone ever wonders, I saw her first. She was my friend before she was anything else to anyone else. From the moment I saw her, I knew. I loved her. Her long beautiful brown hair would bound when she walked and swayed in the wind like amber waves of grain. She was always so happy, optimistic, and kind to those who were more than rude to her. She was the victim of practical jokes in the locker room and was followed constantly through the hallways. I believe it was because all of the other girls in our freshmen year were horribly jealous of her. None of them ever were interested in me, and I was okay with that. I was willing to wait and befriend Melissa. She was gracious, and enjoyed my company. After I began to talk to her and make her a part of my social group, other people began to accept her and stop treating her the way that they did. I distinctly remember asking one of my school friends what their problem with her was. Her answer was something like this. "She just thinks she's so cool. Who does she think she is? Taking over our school like that...". I, to this day, have no idea what she was talking about, but at least I know why Melissa was so poorly mistreated. By the sixth week of school, her story was history. Of course, her radiant presence and brilliant smile never ceased to blow the wind out of me, but I am sure mine was the only case like that. We grew to be best of teamates. Wherever she was, I followed. She would help me with my math while I helped her pass earth science. Her laugh whenever I told a humorless joke would ring in my ears for days. She left me woozy after catching my books when they fell in the hall. She reached down for my social studies binder with one hand, and with the other patted my collar on my shirt down. My stomach fluttered. I remember wondering whether any other guy could be any more lucky than I. I envied my fellow guy friends who always made their girlfriends feel light-headed and weak, and weren't the victims of their powerful spells. I won't say that Melissa and I were a couple, although every one thought that, because she seemed to be the only one who didn't know I was madly in love with her. She hadn't even met Chase, and yet he had more luck than I did in winning her heart.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Touch Football
I've just started playing Soap Opera Sunday, and I am very excited. Creative writing is one of my more strong points in writing, so I my story is going to be fictional (Well, not totally fictional). I am going to steal Luisa's idea and write it in sections. This is my story called "Touch Football".
This is one of my favorite stories to tell. It is a story of love at first sight, a favorite among all my audiences. The main characters in this timeless tale are a young boy and a young girl. About thirteen, they both were outisders in their communities and groups of friends. Both very outspoken and standard-oriented, they were not accepted as easily as others seemed to be. Chase, the boy of whom I speak, loved music. He also loved sports, mind games, and was exceptionally bright. He loved to sing, write songs, and dance. The latter of his talents never gained him any respect. Although a phenomenal performer, his peers never ceased to tease and jeer him about his dancing. He tried to hide it, conceal his extraordinary gift to prevent himself from commiting social suicide. He wasn't a bad person. He still played football, flirted with girls, nothing irregular from all the rest of the boys his age. But for some reason, no one could stop from making his life as miserable of possible. This is why when his father announced the move to America, he was only too eager to accept the new chapter of his life.
Melissa, too was different from the rest of her New York state of mind companions. She adored all of her close friends, but was never quite on the same page as the rest of them. She was born on a Texas ranch, but naturalized in California. She always had this idea that even though she never spent more than 13 months in the Lone Star state, she felt like she belonged in Texas. She belonged where all the girls got up early and did hard, back-breaking work. Where she could come home from school, let her hair down and go ride a horse till dark. California was relatively the same, but she was always so afraid that if she ever were to leave and go somewhere new, she would need to start from scratch, introducing herself in a new way and trying to become a completely different person. So when her father told her she was moving, Melissa just about exploded with fury. This wasn't her idea of fun, moving to a new place with new people to please. New York was going to be harsh.
So now our story can truly begin...
This is one of my favorite stories to tell. It is a story of love at first sight, a favorite among all my audiences. The main characters in this timeless tale are a young boy and a young girl. About thirteen, they both were outisders in their communities and groups of friends. Both very outspoken and standard-oriented, they were not accepted as easily as others seemed to be. Chase, the boy of whom I speak, loved music. He also loved sports, mind games, and was exceptionally bright. He loved to sing, write songs, and dance. The latter of his talents never gained him any respect. Although a phenomenal performer, his peers never ceased to tease and jeer him about his dancing. He tried to hide it, conceal his extraordinary gift to prevent himself from commiting social suicide. He wasn't a bad person. He still played football, flirted with girls, nothing irregular from all the rest of the boys his age. But for some reason, no one could stop from making his life as miserable of possible. This is why when his father announced the move to America, he was only too eager to accept the new chapter of his life.
Melissa, too was different from the rest of her New York state of mind companions. She adored all of her close friends, but was never quite on the same page as the rest of them. She was born on a Texas ranch, but naturalized in California. She always had this idea that even though she never spent more than 13 months in the Lone Star state, she felt like she belonged in Texas. She belonged where all the girls got up early and did hard, back-breaking work. Where she could come home from school, let her hair down and go ride a horse till dark. California was relatively the same, but she was always so afraid that if she ever were to leave and go somewhere new, she would need to start from scratch, introducing herself in a new way and trying to become a completely different person. So when her father told her she was moving, Melissa just about exploded with fury. This wasn't her idea of fun, moving to a new place with new people to please. New York was going to be harsh.
So now our story can truly begin...
Friday, October 12, 2007
Sydney White
Ok, tonight I went with my friends to go see Sydney White. It is pretty much the most awesome movie ever made by man hands. It is so good! I love it. If you haven't seen it, go see it right now. RIGHT NOW! Trust me, your life will feel complete when you walk out of that theater.
Now I don't want to give it all away, but it's mainly about this girl who gets kicked out of her serority, and decides to get back at them by getting a group of outcasts to run for student body president. There's also a cute boy (duh) who happens to be extra cute. His name is Matt Long and he's so cool. He pretty much made the movie for me. Amanda Bynes has too much makeup on, throughout the whole movie not just in one part, and the fake tan is not working for her. She's supposed to be this laid back, doesn't-care-what-people-think-about-her kind of person, yet she walks around with 12 pounds of makeup on. Other than that, my life is like i said pretty much complete.
Now I don't want to give it all away, but it's mainly about this girl who gets kicked out of her serority, and decides to get back at them by getting a group of outcasts to run for student body president. There's also a cute boy (duh) who happens to be extra cute. His name is Matt Long and he's so cool. He pretty much made the movie for me. Amanda Bynes has too much makeup on, throughout the whole movie not just in one part, and the fake tan is not working for her. She's supposed to be this laid back, doesn't-care-what-people-think-about-her kind of person, yet she walks around with 12 pounds of makeup on. Other than that, my life is like i said pretty much complete.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
MEME!
This is a super fun MEME game. I got tagged by Luisa so now i get to make a list of Eight Random things about me. I gotta think of some really good ones! Here goes:
1). Sometimes when I read books, I imagine myself as the villian of the story, and not neccessarily the heroine.
2). I think the world around me as I know it would disintegrate and completely pulverize if I ever lost my iPod. Pretty lame, I know, but I cannot tell a lie.
3). My brother and I learned the names of all of the states and their capitals on a long, 6 1/2 hour ride to Maine when we were banned from the TV by our parents for being bad, goofing off, and "saying mean words".
4). One of my life aspirations is to visit Egypt, see the Great Pyramids, and find some sort of lost artifact to take home and make millions off of.
5). I enjoy dipping my french fries in chocolate shakes. Especially into Red Rooster shakes. Those are pretty much the best things ever made by human hands.
6). I take pride in going on shopping trips with my dad. His expert fashion advice inspired by none other than Clinton Kelly himself never ceases to baffle my friends. Their faces when I say "I went shopping with my dad this weekend" are priceless.
7). Whenever my friends in band (they are only my friends for those 40 minutes of musical enrichment when we are seated in the back row as far away as possible from the director) and I get bored, we stick things down Andrew's euphonium and see if he can blow them out onto the ground. This like rubber bands, cotton balls, ipods, tympani mallets, and calculators have been shoved into the bell and forced out by air pressure onto the floor on countless occasions.
8). I am still discovering things I never knew about some of my dearest friends to this day. For example, my friend Lee apparently spends his free time composing an untitled piece of music in the back of his binder. He is transposing it into the all of the keys neccesary for our band to play it. Bravo, Lee. Man, I wish I was that talented. Don't we all.
Okay, now that I finished that, i'm gonna tag Parker cause he's the only person I know who hasn't already been tagged. If I did happen to forget you it is not out of neglect, and you can just tag yourself.
1). Sometimes when I read books, I imagine myself as the villian of the story, and not neccessarily the heroine.
2). I think the world around me as I know it would disintegrate and completely pulverize if I ever lost my iPod. Pretty lame, I know, but I cannot tell a lie.
3). My brother and I learned the names of all of the states and their capitals on a long, 6 1/2 hour ride to Maine when we were banned from the TV by our parents for being bad, goofing off, and "saying mean words".
4). One of my life aspirations is to visit Egypt, see the Great Pyramids, and find some sort of lost artifact to take home and make millions off of.
5). I enjoy dipping my french fries in chocolate shakes. Especially into Red Rooster shakes. Those are pretty much the best things ever made by human hands.
6). I take pride in going on shopping trips with my dad. His expert fashion advice inspired by none other than Clinton Kelly himself never ceases to baffle my friends. Their faces when I say "I went shopping with my dad this weekend" are priceless.
7). Whenever my friends in band (they are only my friends for those 40 minutes of musical enrichment when we are seated in the back row as far away as possible from the director) and I get bored, we stick things down Andrew's euphonium and see if he can blow them out onto the ground. This like rubber bands, cotton balls, ipods, tympani mallets, and calculators have been shoved into the bell and forced out by air pressure onto the floor on countless occasions.
8). I am still discovering things I never knew about some of my dearest friends to this day. For example, my friend Lee apparently spends his free time composing an untitled piece of music in the back of his binder. He is transposing it into the all of the keys neccesary for our band to play it. Bravo, Lee. Man, I wish I was that talented. Don't we all.
Okay, now that I finished that, i'm gonna tag Parker cause he's the only person I know who hasn't already been tagged. If I did happen to forget you it is not out of neglect, and you can just tag yourself.
Friday, October 5, 2007
Recooperating
I know what Sister Montez was talking about when she said "I would do everything i possibly had time for for about two months, then i would stay home from school for a week to recover." I feel like that right now. I have been totally running around with no time for homework and getting to bed at quarter to 11 since school started. And now, i am taking a sick day because i hurt my arm in a field hockey game and i am in no mood to further stretch my immune system. I seriously am going to drop dead in about 5 seconds and pass out for half an hour. Seeeeeee youuuuuu laaaaaattttttteeeeeeerrrrrr.
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