Well, let's go in chronological order, yes?
*takes a deep breath*
Tomorrow my dad is having his bone marrow transplant, I hope I remember to call him. I emailed him tonight a little short message, so I should remember. Also, the higher up girls decided on running crew for costumes today, and so I'm sure it'll be posted sometime this week. I'm anxious! Running crew means I get to do hair and makeup too! If I make it, that is.
Wednesday is gonna be Trunk or Treat at...some church. I love Trunk or Treat, should be fun :D
I think we were gonna go to an auction on Thursday, but I don't think we are anymore. I'm sure there'll be something to do that day.
On Friday I'm goin' to a bonfire. At which I hope that guy from homecoming will come. We shall see, he might have a football game to go to, as he is in fact a football player.
On Saturday morning is a Halloween Parade, it's in a town over. But the weather should be nice, so I'm looking forward to it.
So we're doing a group research project in English. We were in the computer lab for 2 days last week, and when we got in there she told us that she did not want us sitting by our group members. I was baffled at this, it didn't make any sense! She told us that she wanted us doing individual work. Ahem, for a group project. Now, this resulted in us getting the exact same information! Argh.
Buh BUY!
Monday, October 24, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Whoops, Somebody Hates Me!
To the title: Ah well, you can't control everything, can you?
Anywho, I'm working on what's going to be an absolutely fabulous shirt right now. Cut up the side, made it rainbow, added buttons...it's lookin' pretty nice ;)
Man, I had a long day of shopping yesterday. We went to Party City, Marshals (where I got some purple rain boots!), and Hobby Lobby. In between Marshals and Hobby Lobby we ate at...some steakhouse. I always get their names mixed up. Eeet was goood :) We were gonna go to the Sculpture Garden, but Steph had to go out later and she wanted to take a nap.
Then 3/4 of us sisters went to the hospital to visit our daddio. Instead of being in the Leukemia and Lymphoma Ward he is in the Transplant Ward. The Transplant Ward is much nicer, it even has wood floors! It looks a little like a hotel, except for the antibacterial foams and yellow masks and blue gloves outside every door. Other than that, very much like a hotel.
Me and the Morgs ended up playing cards in the fancy Family Lounge, though, because he was feelin' bad from the chemo. So we played cards and watched the baseball game.
Aaaaand that's it folks! Expect a rant about a certain English teacher's research project tomorrow!
Anywho, I'm working on what's going to be an absolutely fabulous shirt right now. Cut up the side, made it rainbow, added buttons...it's lookin' pretty nice ;)
Man, I had a long day of shopping yesterday. We went to Party City, Marshals (where I got some purple rain boots!), and Hobby Lobby. In between Marshals and Hobby Lobby we ate at...some steakhouse. I always get their names mixed up. Eeet was goood :) We were gonna go to the Sculpture Garden, but Steph had to go out later and she wanted to take a nap.
Then 3/4 of us sisters went to the hospital to visit our daddio. Instead of being in the Leukemia and Lymphoma Ward he is in the Transplant Ward. The Transplant Ward is much nicer, it even has wood floors! It looks a little like a hotel, except for the antibacterial foams and yellow masks and blue gloves outside every door. Other than that, very much like a hotel.
Me and the Morgs ended up playing cards in the fancy Family Lounge, though, because he was feelin' bad from the chemo. So we played cards and watched the baseball game.
Aaaaand that's it folks! Expect a rant about a certain English teacher's research project tomorrow!
Sunday, October 16, 2011
What Time Is It? Rant Time!
“If I worked at McDonalds I would hire all old people.” This was said to me a couple of hours ago. I asked her why, and she answered that old people work harder. This is where I rolled my eyes and asked her how did she know that? She answered by saying that it was proven.
This whole rant is gonna go back to the whole ‘this generation is so lazy, blah blah blah’. Well, let me start by saying that your great generation raised my generation. As I personally think that there is absolutely nothing wrong with my generation that wasn’t wrong in earlier ones, I say kudos to the people who raised us. They did an average job.
Saying that old people work harder came as an insult to me. Because us teenagers, or those people in their twenties, they just don’t get it. They’re so lazy. What went wrong? If some people really feel this way, they should feel ashamed of how they raised their kids.. You can blame yourself for how the world is turning out, right? Right.
I don’t think you should say that old people work harder than younger people because I think that a person should be judged on their individual work ability and work ethic. It might be true than in a study more old people work harder than the younger people, but that isn’t to say that you should hire all old people. There are so many hard-working people out there, so many intelligent people, so many geniuses! So If I were to work at a McDonalds, I would hire hard-working, friendly, people-pleasing people.
But now back to the generation issue. I believe that how you’re raised affects how you will turn out to be as a person, but only, say, half of what ultimately goes into it. The other half is formed by your experiences outside of the family home. The places you travel, the people you look up to, the things you do. All of those things change you, and mold you, until you come out a very different person than you were at age 1, or age 11, or age 18. So I guess what I’m saying is that how you’re raised gives you a good foundation to build your character off of, if you want to build off of it. You can always choose not to, you know.
This whole rant is gonna go back to the whole ‘this generation is so lazy, blah blah blah’. Well, let me start by saying that your great generation raised my generation. As I personally think that there is absolutely nothing wrong with my generation that wasn’t wrong in earlier ones, I say kudos to the people who raised us. They did an average job.
Saying that old people work harder came as an insult to me. Because us teenagers, or those people in their twenties, they just don’t get it. They’re so lazy. What went wrong? If some people really feel this way, they should feel ashamed of how they raised their kids.. You can blame yourself for how the world is turning out, right? Right.
I don’t think you should say that old people work harder than younger people because I think that a person should be judged on their individual work ability and work ethic. It might be true than in a study more old people work harder than the younger people, but that isn’t to say that you should hire all old people. There are so many hard-working people out there, so many intelligent people, so many geniuses! So If I were to work at a McDonalds, I would hire hard-working, friendly, people-pleasing people.
But now back to the generation issue. I believe that how you’re raised affects how you will turn out to be as a person, but only, say, half of what ultimately goes into it. The other half is formed by your experiences outside of the family home. The places you travel, the people you look up to, the things you do. All of those things change you, and mold you, until you come out a very different person than you were at age 1, or age 11, or age 18. So I guess what I’m saying is that how you’re raised gives you a good foundation to build your character off of, if you want to build off of it. You can always choose not to, you know.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Too Stubborn For a Cane, Opts For Army Crawl
Just came back from a 2 hour long orchestra benefit concert. That could translate into 'too long' instead of '2 long'.
I'm really tired so this post might not come out quite as coherent as I'd like it to be.
Current event: IT'S HAPPENING RIGHT NOW! The Cardinals are losing 2 to 4 last time I checked. Grr, they were doing so well! Ah well, all good things must come to an end. Whoever said that must've been clinically depressed. Or a realist.
I really need to pack. My dad is getting a bone marrow transplant soon (like next week soon?) and so we're spending the weekend at his house down at the lake. Also, half day of school tomorrow. This means us high schoolers actually get out at 10:20. Isn't it sad that they call that a half day? Yes folks, that IS how early we get up. Also, in the 'dictionary' schoolers is not a word. I just added it, so now it is.
Aaaaaaaaand that's it, folks! Check back tomorrow at the earliest for new and most likely more exciting post!
I'm really tired so this post might not come out quite as coherent as I'd like it to be.
Current event: IT'S HAPPENING RIGHT NOW! The Cardinals are losing 2 to 4 last time I checked. Grr, they were doing so well! Ah well, all good things must come to an end. Whoever said that must've been clinically depressed. Or a realist.
I really need to pack. My dad is getting a bone marrow transplant soon (like next week soon?) and so we're spending the weekend at his house down at the lake. Also, half day of school tomorrow. This means us high schoolers actually get out at 10:20. Isn't it sad that they call that a half day? Yes folks, that IS how early we get up. Also, in the 'dictionary' schoolers is not a word. I just added it, so now it is.
Aaaaaaaaand that's it, folks! Check back tomorrow at the earliest for new and most likely more exciting post!
Monday, October 10, 2011
Full Moons Are For Shiny Happy People
There are two types of full moons:
1) The romantic kind, where you want to sit on a sweet smelling flower-ridden hill with your lover and just stare at it forever (man have I got it bad?!) or
2) The creepy kind, where the werewolves come out and the vampires stay inside because they'd just make moving targets of themselves. Why? The light is just so bright, they'd sparkle!
Anyway, tonight's a full moon and incidentally it's neither of those examples for me. Well, not at the moment anyway. Who knows what could happen? I could sneak out, find a random dude, sit on a hill, and then be caught in the middle of a herd of stampeding sparkly vampires with werewolves with a craving for sparkly vampire chasing after them. Hey, you never do know.
That's really all I have to say tonight. I just wanted to get another post in, because I really love full moons and I would love one full moon to end up like the first one.
Night :)
1) The romantic kind, where you want to sit on a sweet smelling flower-ridden hill with your lover and just stare at it forever (man have I got it bad?!) or
2) The creepy kind, where the werewolves come out and the vampires stay inside because they'd just make moving targets of themselves. Why? The light is just so bright, they'd sparkle!
Anyway, tonight's a full moon and incidentally it's neither of those examples for me. Well, not at the moment anyway. Who knows what could happen? I could sneak out, find a random dude, sit on a hill, and then be caught in the middle of a herd of stampeding sparkly vampires with werewolves with a craving for sparkly vampire chasing after them. Hey, you never do know.
That's really all I have to say tonight. I just wanted to get another post in, because I really love full moons and I would love one full moon to end up like the first one.
Night :)
Sunday, October 9, 2011
The Circle of Life
So, last night was homecoming. First I would like to state that my friend Maggie did a post on this very same homecoming, and that post will look a lot like mine. So click here if you would like to read it.
Yesterday, after going shoe shopping to cheer up my older sister, I went to Emily's house. Maggie was there too, and Maddie came later. Maggie, Emily, and I got ready there, while Maddie just came ready. (You see, Maggie, Emily, and I are the home cooked meal while Maddle is the hot-and-ready Little Caesars pizza.) However, Emily hurt herself in the process. She did a kick, fell flat on her back, and it sounded like the couch had fallen over - to quote her mother. Unfortunately later we decided against sticking an extra ibuprofen in her clutch for the 3 hours in heels that lay ahead for her.
And so commenced the hair-doing, pizza-eating (coincidentally Little Caesars), and almost bursting into tears on Emily's part. Let's skip ahead to the dance, shall we?
The four of us walk in, all looking fabulous. We not only looked fabulous but felt smashing. And we were. Emily's ibuprofen had kicked in, my shoes were not yet killing me slowly but surely, and Maggie had not yet felt a little depressed. But that's all later, I'm getting ahead of myself.
We walked into the dance, and I must say it was very well decorated. The theme was 'Taj Mahal Ball'. The paper path on the floor was all ripped up from all the idiots who can't walk in heels correctly. I am not one of those idiots, thankfully. And so we walk into the gym, which no longer looks like the gym it's so decorated, and we see The Circle.
Now, I'm sure most of you reading this post have been to a dance. However, I'll describe what happens just in case. We start outside of The Circle. People stand in groups nearer the walls than The Circle. On the outside of The Circle there's just dancing, only dancing at this thing is more like a bounce-sway thing. Just gotta get into the beat, man. Go a little farther into The Circle and you find mostly harmless grinding. Farther, more serious grinding. So the closer you get to the inside of The Circle, the closer you get to where the sex is happening.
So at one point in this fine night before anything really went down and we were super bored, we stood and looked at that giant Circle of gyrating people. Emily named it The Circle of Life - I readily agreed - and then wondered why they weren't caught. And so I promptly said, 'Just gotta go with the beat!'
Later one of my other friends decided she wanted a guy to dance with. She had been told (probably by her older sister) that there was this one corner in particular. So we stood in that very corner, and we waited. Albeit awkwardly. Sure enough Anna walks up with her crush Kyle with another guy in tow. Anna asked who wanted to dance with him, and so I promptly volunteered.
We went to the grinding part of the circle (Anna and Kyle too) and we were awkward. It was awkward for a while, and then Emily came with this one Catholic kid she had told her Jesus theory to earlier. We all dance, except for Kyle and Anna who just stand there and made out. So when they finally pulled away from each other (for breathing purposes no doubt) Kyle waggled his eyebrows at Jake. (Jake being the guy I danced with.) The eyebrow waggle was promptly understood by all of us. And so, after a seriously awkward hesitation, I kissed the guy. After that I kissed him multiple times more.
Eventually I left, and Emily took it upon herself to have him give me his number. So today we texted for a good two hours, and I learned a lot about the guy. His last name, for example. Also: he's a football player.
This is when I freaked out. I freaked out it a good way, not a bad way. Never did I ever think in my whole entire life that I would kiss a football player! Ever!
I'm going to end this ridiculously long blog post with telling you people how thrilled I am!
Yesterday, after going shoe shopping to cheer up my older sister, I went to Emily's house. Maggie was there too, and Maddie came later. Maggie, Emily, and I got ready there, while Maddie just came ready. (You see, Maggie, Emily, and I are the home cooked meal while Maddle is the hot-and-ready Little Caesars pizza.) However, Emily hurt herself in the process. She did a kick, fell flat on her back, and it sounded like the couch had fallen over - to quote her mother. Unfortunately later we decided against sticking an extra ibuprofen in her clutch for the 3 hours in heels that lay ahead for her.
And so commenced the hair-doing, pizza-eating (coincidentally Little Caesars), and almost bursting into tears on Emily's part. Let's skip ahead to the dance, shall we?
The four of us walk in, all looking fabulous. We not only looked fabulous but felt smashing. And we were. Emily's ibuprofen had kicked in, my shoes were not yet killing me slowly but surely, and Maggie had not yet felt a little depressed. But that's all later, I'm getting ahead of myself.
We walked into the dance, and I must say it was very well decorated. The theme was 'Taj Mahal Ball'. The paper path on the floor was all ripped up from all the idiots who can't walk in heels correctly. I am not one of those idiots, thankfully. And so we walk into the gym, which no longer looks like the gym it's so decorated, and we see The Circle.
Now, I'm sure most of you reading this post have been to a dance. However, I'll describe what happens just in case. We start outside of The Circle. People stand in groups nearer the walls than The Circle. On the outside of The Circle there's just dancing, only dancing at this thing is more like a bounce-sway thing. Just gotta get into the beat, man. Go a little farther into The Circle and you find mostly harmless grinding. Farther, more serious grinding. So the closer you get to the inside of The Circle, the closer you get to where the sex is happening.
So at one point in this fine night before anything really went down and we were super bored, we stood and looked at that giant Circle of gyrating people. Emily named it The Circle of Life - I readily agreed - and then wondered why they weren't caught. And so I promptly said, 'Just gotta go with the beat!'
Later one of my other friends decided she wanted a guy to dance with. She had been told (probably by her older sister) that there was this one corner in particular. So we stood in that very corner, and we waited. Albeit awkwardly. Sure enough Anna walks up with her crush Kyle with another guy in tow. Anna asked who wanted to dance with him, and so I promptly volunteered.
We went to the grinding part of the circle (Anna and Kyle too) and we were awkward. It was awkward for a while, and then Emily came with this one Catholic kid she had told her Jesus theory to earlier. We all dance, except for Kyle and Anna who just stand there and made out. So when they finally pulled away from each other (for breathing purposes no doubt) Kyle waggled his eyebrows at Jake. (Jake being the guy I danced with.) The eyebrow waggle was promptly understood by all of us. And so, after a seriously awkward hesitation, I kissed the guy. After that I kissed him multiple times more.
Eventually I left, and Emily took it upon herself to have him give me his number. So today we texted for a good two hours, and I learned a lot about the guy. His last name, for example. Also: he's a football player.
This is when I freaked out. I freaked out it a good way, not a bad way. Never did I ever think in my whole entire life that I would kiss a football player! Ever!
I'm going to end this ridiculously long blog post with telling you people how thrilled I am!
If a man's kiss is his signature, this guy has a sloppy signature.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
I'll Syrup Your Pancakes...;)
Sooo, NaNoWriMo is coming in a month. I'm excited, but kind of terrified.
If you don't know what NaNoWriMo is, I'll explain it. NaNoWriMo = National November Writing Month. In November you have to write 50k words on your novel. The point is to just get those 50k words out, no matter how much they need to be edited! Just get them all out in November, and in December you can edit. So in summary: NaNoWriMo is where you write 50,000 words in one single month.
So back to me being excited, but kind of terrified. I'm excited because, hey! What if I can actually do this?! I'll get a fabulous jump on a novel! The terrified part, however, is because I don't really know what I should write about. I'd like to go with romance. I love to write romance, always have. Though, I think it's just okay. I want more than just okay. I want smashing!
But I don't know what to write about. And that, that would be the problem.
If you don't know what NaNoWriMo is, I'll explain it. NaNoWriMo = National November Writing Month. In November you have to write 50k words on your novel. The point is to just get those 50k words out, no matter how much they need to be edited! Just get them all out in November, and in December you can edit. So in summary: NaNoWriMo is where you write 50,000 words in one single month.
So back to me being excited, but kind of terrified. I'm excited because, hey! What if I can actually do this?! I'll get a fabulous jump on a novel! The terrified part, however, is because I don't really know what I should write about. I'd like to go with romance. I love to write romance, always have. Though, I think it's just okay. I want more than just okay. I want smashing!
But I don't know what to write about. And that, that would be the problem.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Is a Piner as Bad as A Whiner?
So, I have this person that pines for me. Shall we call them the Piner? Of course we will, this is my blog, after all. You see, I broke up with the Piner back a couple of months ago, mid August. And from the name 'Piner', you can guess what they're doing. Pining. And it's sad, and I wish they would just go be happy dating one of my friends. Because they are dating one of my friends, and it sucks that the friend is not really appreciated because Piner is still pining for me. That was all directed at you *points at Piner*
So, anyway. I was inspired by Maggie's rant/post thing, so go check it out! It's very true, even though you have to read it a couple of times to work out what she's trying to say: http://andtheyregettingstronger.blogspot.com/
I wish I could rant about something as great as that, but I'm a rantless freak at the moment. Well, it is the weekend. Usually I have rants about my English teacher. Argh, she makes me want to put her in a giant stained fish suit that it so discolored it looks grey when it started out salmon pink and beat her within an inch of her life. And then beat her half an inch more for good measure!
Maybe I do have a rant...
So you see, it's a woman. She's early-thirties most likely. I'm not that great at judging ages though. However, she wears teenager jeans and t-shirts and has thin brown hair cut into a shoulder length bob thing. Is it a bob if it's shoulder length? Oh well. She makes us journal almost every day. It's for ten minutes that we have to nonstop write, and we have to fill two pages, but you gotta double space it or you get no points for it. During this ten minutes she puts on classical music, because it does something to help you process, or concentrate, or some crap like that. You are expected to write the whole time.
Now, I've always been told it quality over quantity. You want to have a nice amount of good work rather than a shit load of well...shit. That has always made sense to me. She wants you to write lots, and have it all be really good. And so I am forced to w r i t e r e a l l y l a r g e a n d b o l d m y l e t t e r s a n d s p a c e t h e m a p a r t .
But that really isn't the worst part. The worst part is she has this want to instill morals into us. She gives us topics like 'is it always right to get revenge?' and 'do you think you should forgive? Why or why not?' And after that torturous ten minutes of writing she would like to discuss it with us. However, it isn't much of a discussion for long. She picks on a couple of us, asks what we wrote. And then when she finds the person who shares her views on it, she shoots off on how maybe we should all just give up revenge, after all: it's a terrible no good very bad thing to do! And you should always forgive people, no matter what they did! Killed my husband? Oh, it was an accident! Got it, got it. Yes, I forgive you, Mother.
Makes me angry. Everyday it's the same thing. However, when we get to 'freewrite' I take it upon myself to write about the bloating of cadavers, and how that is actually caused in some part by maggots. I hope she likes my two pages about that!
So, anyway. I was inspired by Maggie's rant/post thing, so go check it out! It's very true, even though you have to read it a couple of times to work out what she's trying to say: http://andtheyregettingstronger.blogspot.com/
I wish I could rant about something as great as that, but I'm a rantless freak at the moment. Well, it is the weekend. Usually I have rants about my English teacher. Argh, she makes me want to put her in a giant stained fish suit that it so discolored it looks grey when it started out salmon pink and beat her within an inch of her life. And then beat her half an inch more for good measure!
Maybe I do have a rant...
So you see, it's a woman. She's early-thirties most likely. I'm not that great at judging ages though. However, she wears teenager jeans and t-shirts and has thin brown hair cut into a shoulder length bob thing. Is it a bob if it's shoulder length? Oh well. She makes us journal almost every day. It's for ten minutes that we have to nonstop write, and we have to fill two pages, but you gotta double space it or you get no points for it. During this ten minutes she puts on classical music, because it does something to help you process, or concentrate, or some crap like that. You are expected to write the whole time.
Now, I've always been told it quality over quantity. You want to have a nice amount of good work rather than a shit load of well...shit. That has always made sense to me. She wants you to write lots, and have it all be really good. And so I am forced to w r i t e r e a l l y l a r g e a n d b o l d m y l e t t e r s a n d s p a c e t h e m a p a r t .
But that really isn't the worst part. The worst part is she has this want to instill morals into us. She gives us topics like 'is it always right to get revenge?' and 'do you think you should forgive? Why or why not?' And after that torturous ten minutes of writing she would like to discuss it with us. However, it isn't much of a discussion for long. She picks on a couple of us, asks what we wrote. And then when she finds the person who shares her views on it, she shoots off on how maybe we should all just give up revenge, after all: it's a terrible no good very bad thing to do! And you should always forgive people, no matter what they did! Killed my husband? Oh, it was an accident! Got it, got it. Yes, I forgive you, Mother.
Makes me angry. Everyday it's the same thing. However, when we get to 'freewrite' I take it upon myself to write about the bloating of cadavers, and how that is actually caused in some part by maggots. I hope she likes my two pages about that!
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