Did you know....that blogger gives you a way to track who is looking at your blog?
Eh, me neither. Then I found it. You know who's been reading my blog??? Me neither. But some of them live in Finland and Malaysia and Russia, and some of them found me under the google search "ski pants", or a google image of my bed tent, or through a Russian gaming site. First thought, "Wow, I'm popular." Second thought, "CREEPY???" ...Now I've set it so I can't be googled anymore. I hope.
But here I still am, throwing myself out to the internet.
I also have a confession to make. Most women who adore celebrities have romantic fantasies about them--walking on the beach, going on a picnic, doing...other...things. I have different fantasies. When I was in love with Jesse McCartney, I wanted to begin a correspondence with him in which I explained why I loved his uplifting messages to women with beautiful souls. When I loved Daniel Ratcliffe, I was going to persuade him to become a Christian. Now I have fantasies of playing checkers with Justin Bieber and riding on his segway.
Classes began this week. First day, I was jazzed. Now there is a state of oh, classes. On the first day of Ethics class, my professor paused in the roll and said, "Laura Love...What a great name! You should never get married!" Wonderful. First day of Ethics and I'm already labeled as a future celibate.
Babysitting has kicked up again too. What does this mean for me? Weekly doses of Disney Princess, dancing, and snacktime.
Baba Larve made a reappearance last night with "The Tale of theYeti and the Cactus". The Yeti wins. She has so much wisdom.
Because it's January and summer is so close, naturally the question of "what will I do this summer?" is buzzing in my brain. So is the question of "where will I live next year?" and "when can I finally get a cat?"
Time to switch OUT of planner mode and enjoy my last semester of The Fritz. Wait? Last?!?! NOO!!!
The other day, I caught my roommate looking at herself in the webcam. Her response? "I'm playing peek-a-boo with myself!" The next day we played humpbacks. Yesterday she became the Thigh Master, and I am the Thigh Apprentice. There is no END to entertainment in this room!
Musical Artist of this Week: Taylor Swift (not Justin Bieber. Shocking?)
Friday, January 21, 2011
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Happy Fun Times Snow Camp
We are watching Salt. Last time I watched this movie, I felt sick and didn't finish it. Apparently, it's awesome or something. My opportunity has been redeemed.
My first week of spring semester 2011 has actually been a solid week of Happy Fun Times Snow Camp. Events as follows.
My first week of spring semester 2011 has actually been a solid week of Happy Fun Times Snow Camp. Events as follows.
Snow trek.
Fort building.
Snowball blitzkrieg on the boys (we won).
Karaoke games.
Baba Larve storytime.
Dress up dance party.
Ke$ha dance party.
Reading.
Snow cream making.
Tent time.
Guitar Hero.
Mall time.
Textbook madness.
Zumba with Imani.
Food.
Free Art Museum.
No classes.
Not in that order.
Baba Larve
Karaoke time.
JB & me at the mall.
Art museums are cool.
Ew. I hate the beginning of this movie. Blood and torture.
This week, I have badly wanted to leave the country. Destination? No idea. I want to go to Italy. Ireland. Greece. Africa. Canada. Mexico. Russia. Ukraine. Kazakhstan. It's weird--once you've spent extensive time in more than one culture, it's hard to fit back into your original culture. I want to go somewhere.
Want, want, want. This week has been full of too much self-indulgence and thinking about what I want. After a while, one begins to feel dusty and stale. A shift of focus needs to happen here.
Song of the day: The World Spins Madly On by the Weepies.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Sometimes, Snow is OK.
Our room is completely dark. It's weird. Lisa, why aren't any lights on?
....She didn't answer me.
So, first full day back to school and there is no school. Not to say that the school is invisible, but the campus is closed until Wednesday due to the "blizzard". What does this mean? I get to spend some extra quality time horsing around and participating in general tomfoolery. Excellent. For now, I have set aside my hatred of snow.
Today was magnificent. I woke up in my bed tent (at LAST!) and everything was glowing pink and snuggly warm. A few of us decided to venture outside into the foot+ of untouched snow and soil it by galloping/running/skipping/falling in it. A short trek turned into at least a mile hike in the treacherous woods through shin-deep snow. Mercler, the clumsy ginger with a heart problem, was not pleased. The rest of the afternoon was spent watching Gilmore Girls and eating processed foods that had been sitting in our rooms for the last month. Tonight we had a celebratory Ke$ha dance party. And tomorrow, we get a whole nother DAY. Sledding, anyone?
I was sad, of course, to leave home. I spent three days with Morgan--bridesmaid dress shopping, going to the movies, ice skating {with Jordan "the wolverine" in tow}, sitting, more sitting--another day with my friend Lacey that I haven't seen in a year, and several hours of good reading time. Right before I left the house, we had a family dance party to some of mom's sweet oldies tunes. All in all, I'd say the break was splendid, and very much a break.
I also found that fathers make good shopping partners because they are willing to buy things that moms are not, and that I despise cell phone shopping. My phone of three months broke. I went and got a new one. The new one was not a good phone. I didn't know what to do. I asked dad. Dad say, "We go get you smartphone." I say, "REALLY?!?!" Then I drooled a little bit. So, I am officially the proud new owner of a Droid, the appliance that is more giving than a boyfriend and more entertaining than my roommate {not true, Lisa, I am joking with you...maybe...}.
Oh! Lights! Thanks, Lisa!
Anyway, alien status: slowly dying...? I think...? It's hard to tell. I don't really remember the "before the alien implants" times. Fortunately, THE CLAW has not made a reappearance.
Song of the day: Cannibal by Ke$ha. In this song, she eats boys that she doesn't like. That's right--EATS them. Fortunately, I don't model all of my ways after Ke$ha.
And a few pictures...for fun.
....She didn't answer me.
So, first full day back to school and there is no school. Not to say that the school is invisible, but the campus is closed until Wednesday due to the "blizzard". What does this mean? I get to spend some extra quality time horsing around and participating in general tomfoolery. Excellent. For now, I have set aside my hatred of snow.
Today was magnificent. I woke up in my bed tent (at LAST!) and everything was glowing pink and snuggly warm. A few of us decided to venture outside into the foot+ of untouched snow and soil it by galloping/running/skipping/falling in it. A short trek turned into at least a mile hike in the treacherous woods through shin-deep snow. Mercler, the clumsy ginger with a heart problem, was not pleased. The rest of the afternoon was spent watching Gilmore Girls and eating processed foods that had been sitting in our rooms for the last month. Tonight we had a celebratory Ke$ha dance party. And tomorrow, we get a whole nother DAY. Sledding, anyone?
I was sad, of course, to leave home. I spent three days with Morgan--bridesmaid dress shopping, going to the movies, ice skating {with Jordan "the wolverine" in tow}, sitting, more sitting--another day with my friend Lacey that I haven't seen in a year, and several hours of good reading time. Right before I left the house, we had a family dance party to some of mom's sweet oldies tunes. All in all, I'd say the break was splendid, and very much a break.
I also found that fathers make good shopping partners because they are willing to buy things that moms are not, and that I despise cell phone shopping. My phone of three months broke. I went and got a new one. The new one was not a good phone. I didn't know what to do. I asked dad. Dad say, "We go get you smartphone." I say, "REALLY?!?!" Then I drooled a little bit. So, I am officially the proud new owner of a Droid, the appliance that is more giving than a boyfriend and more entertaining than my roommate {not true, Lisa, I am joking with you...maybe...}.
Oh! Lights! Thanks, Lisa!
Anyway, alien status: slowly dying...? I think...? It's hard to tell. I don't really remember the "before the alien implants" times. Fortunately, THE CLAW has not made a reappearance.
Song of the day: Cannibal by Ke$ha. In this song, she eats boys that she doesn't like. That's right--EATS them. Fortunately, I don't model all of my ways after Ke$ha.
And a few pictures...for fun.
Sisters.
My cousin Jenny.
Wolverine and Baba Larve
The ice awaits us.
When Lisa and I return, everyone flocks to our room. I'm beginning to suspect that it has something to do with the couch.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
THE CLAW.
Three things run through my head at the moment.
1) This week was really not all that interesting.
2) I really should come up with some New Year's resolutions.
3) My stomach is angry with me. Still.
The biggest thing that happened this week: we went to a big mom's-side-of-the-family Christmas gathering. How was it? Eh. There was a lot of talking and awkward pauses because nobody's seen each other in a year. "How are you? How's school? What year are you again?....Um, I ran out of questions. My bad." I texted Lisa about it and she suggested I tell everyone I was pregnant just to get a conversation going, but I figured that wouldn't be very productive.
A big perk, however, was getting The Hunger Games trilogy for my one-family-member-buys-you-something gift. I spent the next 3 1/2 days locked in those books. Any moment one of the books wasn't in my hands, I was nervous and all my thoughts were being narrated in the writing style of the book. When I finished, I had to stare at a wall for a few minutes and then watch a mindless movie. Two days later, I am still thinking about them, dreaming about them, and living in paranoia--well, only sort of. They were AWESOME.
I do have one New Year's resolution, actually: get rid of the alien implants. Yes, over a month and they still won't leave. Rather than me hating someone else's guts, my guts hate me. I thought I was getting better again until Wednesday, when suddenly my innards were on fire and my belly was saying FEED ME and I HATE FOOD at the same time. What a dandy day to go on a 3-hour car ride home. When I got there, I finally put my foot down and said, "Dr. Dad, I need some more meds. Alien meds." <--not my exact words.
The theory is that, hiding in the walls of my belly, I may have a lovely bacteria called H. Pylori, also known as Helicobacter Pylori, which sounds like "Helicopter Pie". Left untreated, this can be--gross. So, yesterday I got medicine for this thing that I might have. Guess what the medicine does? Makes me feel worse. HOORAY! I went to bed last night (after ditching my friends on New Year's) hoping it would go away. Nope, at 5 this morning, my dog heard thunder, had a panic attack, and woke me up. A few minutes later, my belly thought it was time to join in the fun and it tried to run out to fight the thunder while all it really ran into was all of my other innards, who were not pleased. I knew one of the pills was the culprit--but which?
Fast forward this afternoon, an hour or so after I took one of the pills, my stomach felt like it was in the clutches of a dragon. Actually, I imagined it looking like it was stuck in the claw of one of those arcade machines. (and then I immediately imagined all the little green aliens from Toy Story inside of me as well, going "Ooo, The CLAW!") At the time, we were also at my grandmother's house and she had requested that I help her finish cooking lunch, so, screaming stomach or not, I had to comply.
Fast forward to now. I think I have discovered which pill does what. One tastes like fish and garbage and makes me somewhat nauseous. The other is THE CLAW. I think. I hope I'm right and that a switch in the medicine makes THE CLAW stop--though I'd still have to take the garbage pill. And that, when the 14 days of pills are over, the helicopter pie diagnosis will be correct, meaning that the little aliens will be dead.
Then I can drink coffee and eat whatever I want.
Sadly, after a month of eating less because of my angry innards, I have not lost a pound. I suppose this means I'll actually have to exercise after all!
My belly wants to go to bed now so that when it wakes up before the sun tomorrow morning, it will have at least gotten some sleep.
1) This week was really not all that interesting.
2) I really should come up with some New Year's resolutions.
3) My stomach is angry with me. Still.
The biggest thing that happened this week: we went to a big mom's-side-of-the-family Christmas gathering. How was it? Eh. There was a lot of talking and awkward pauses because nobody's seen each other in a year. "How are you? How's school? What year are you again?....Um, I ran out of questions. My bad." I texted Lisa about it and she suggested I tell everyone I was pregnant just to get a conversation going, but I figured that wouldn't be very productive.
A big perk, however, was getting The Hunger Games trilogy for my one-family-member-buys-you-something gift. I spent the next 3 1/2 days locked in those books. Any moment one of the books wasn't in my hands, I was nervous and all my thoughts were being narrated in the writing style of the book. When I finished, I had to stare at a wall for a few minutes and then watch a mindless movie. Two days later, I am still thinking about them, dreaming about them, and living in paranoia--well, only sort of. They were AWESOME.
I do have one New Year's resolution, actually: get rid of the alien implants. Yes, over a month and they still won't leave. Rather than me hating someone else's guts, my guts hate me. I thought I was getting better again until Wednesday, when suddenly my innards were on fire and my belly was saying FEED ME and I HATE FOOD at the same time. What a dandy day to go on a 3-hour car ride home. When I got there, I finally put my foot down and said, "Dr. Dad, I need some more meds. Alien meds." <--not my exact words.
The theory is that, hiding in the walls of my belly, I may have a lovely bacteria called H. Pylori, also known as Helicobacter Pylori, which sounds like "Helicopter Pie". Left untreated, this can be--gross. So, yesterday I got medicine for this thing that I might have. Guess what the medicine does? Makes me feel worse. HOORAY! I went to bed last night (after ditching my friends on New Year's) hoping it would go away. Nope, at 5 this morning, my dog heard thunder, had a panic attack, and woke me up. A few minutes later, my belly thought it was time to join in the fun and it tried to run out to fight the thunder while all it really ran into was all of my other innards, who were not pleased. I knew one of the pills was the culprit--but which?
Fast forward this afternoon, an hour or so after I took one of the pills, my stomach felt like it was in the clutches of a dragon. Actually, I imagined it looking like it was stuck in the claw of one of those arcade machines. (and then I immediately imagined all the little green aliens from Toy Story inside of me as well, going "Ooo, The CLAW!") At the time, we were also at my grandmother's house and she had requested that I help her finish cooking lunch, so, screaming stomach or not, I had to comply.
Fast forward to now. I think I have discovered which pill does what. One tastes like fish and garbage and makes me somewhat nauseous. The other is THE CLAW. I think. I hope I'm right and that a switch in the medicine makes THE CLAW stop--though I'd still have to take the garbage pill. And that, when the 14 days of pills are over, the helicopter pie diagnosis will be correct, meaning that the little aliens will be dead.
Then I can drink coffee and eat whatever I want.
Sadly, after a month of eating less because of my angry innards, I have not lost a pound. I suppose this means I'll actually have to exercise after all!
My belly wants to go to bed now so that when it wakes up before the sun tomorrow morning, it will have at least gotten some sleep.
Lack of good food turns me into Negative Nancy.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
A Bum-derful Holiday
Did you know....?
-that Reese's makes bell-shaped candy too?? (Weird.)
-that my bed is covered in filth, except for the patch on which I sleep?
-that Japanese food is still good the seventh time around? (..excuse me, my brain said "second" and my fingers typed "seventh". I'd throw that stuff out before the seventh time)
-that if you opened my stomach right now, you would only find Japanese food and sugar (along with the alien implants)
-that it's actually Saturday, even though my body says it's Friday?
-that I would really like to have a treehouse?
-that Christmas is the day Santa was born? <--that's a total lie.
Song of the day: Mary Did You Know? (inspired by the above paragraph)
Actual song of the day: White Christmas
Song I'm listening to right now: Christmas Don't Be Late by Alvin and the Chipmunks. Don't worry, it came right on time.
This week I was a total BUM. Bum, bum, bum. It was glorious. Most of my time was spent reading books I wanted to read, eating, wearing pajamas, and making a clay nativity for mom. In my spare time, I took Daniel cologne shopping (I'm afraid that this may become a yearly tradition), went to the bank, read Christmas stories to Audrey in a Russian accent, made cookies, and spent time with three friends.
Spending time with one of these friends in particular was very special--necessary, even. After thirteen years of friendship, we were due for a disagreement...and in September, conflict rushed in like a bad thunderstorm. We didn't talk for months after that and it was a constant shadow looming in the back of my mind. Then, on Christmas Eve, we finally took the plunge--that awful, terrible confrontation conversation that nobody on earth really likes--and after half and hour or so, the tension disappeared like it had never been there in the first place. It was amazing. Everything returned to the way it should be, and that evening I found myself sitting in their family living room opening little Christmas presents like I had on Christmas Eves before. I think this was the best kind of Christmas present I could have asked for.
Alright, now let's talk about actual Christmas Day. I get fascinated by other people's Christmas morning traditions, which are all pretty much the same as well as completely different. They go like this: everyone wakes up, some meaningful things are said, someone is "Santa" and hands out presents to everyone, and turns are taken so that it makes a kind of show. (and if you don't open your present with enthusiasm, everyone will stare daggers at you!) Then, when presents are open, everyone eats something delicious for breakfast. After that, there's a lot of hanging out.
WELL. This morning I was not woken up by pretty Christmas music, as per usual. Instead, my sister threw open my door (BEFORE nine o' clock) and huffed "Get up," before turning around and leaving me alone to figure out what day it was. I squinted at the clock, brushed my hair, tripped down the stairs, got some eggnog, and sat down on the couch. Then we had a family Christmas devotional with my ever-enthusiastic mother for about half an hour and even sang some carols (which sounded a bit croaky). Then puffy-faced, just-had-her-wisdom-teeth-out-and-is-a-total-grouch-because-of-it Audrey acted as Santa. And, as usual, I got what I asked for, with the added bonus of Baby Bottle Pops and Reese's bells. After that--yup, you guessed it--special breakfast with once-a-year sausageballs. Nothing much happened after that until lunch, when we had Japanese hibachi, a Christmas tradition because mom doesn't want to cook and the Japanese places are the only ones open on Christmas. The rest of the day was spent watching movies and eating food. BUMMING.
Oh yeah, and for once we actually had a decent snow on Christmas. It was perfect!
It was a lovely, bum-derful day. Now I am preparing to be afflicted with post-Christmas blues. Farewell, Nat King Cole. I'll miss you.
-that Reese's makes bell-shaped candy too?? (Weird.)
-that my bed is covered in filth, except for the patch on which I sleep?
-that Japanese food is still good the seventh time around? (..excuse me, my brain said "second" and my fingers typed "seventh". I'd throw that stuff out before the seventh time)
-that if you opened my stomach right now, you would only find Japanese food and sugar (along with the alien implants)
-that it's actually Saturday, even though my body says it's Friday?
-that I would really like to have a treehouse?
-that Christmas is the day Santa was born? <--that's a total lie.
Song of the day: Mary Did You Know? (inspired by the above paragraph)
Actual song of the day: White Christmas
Song I'm listening to right now: Christmas Don't Be Late by Alvin and the Chipmunks. Don't worry, it came right on time.
This week I was a total BUM. Bum, bum, bum. It was glorious. Most of my time was spent reading books I wanted to read, eating, wearing pajamas, and making a clay nativity for mom. In my spare time, I took Daniel cologne shopping (I'm afraid that this may become a yearly tradition), went to the bank, read Christmas stories to Audrey in a Russian accent, made cookies, and spent time with three friends.
Spending time with one of these friends in particular was very special--necessary, even. After thirteen years of friendship, we were due for a disagreement...and in September, conflict rushed in like a bad thunderstorm. We didn't talk for months after that and it was a constant shadow looming in the back of my mind. Then, on Christmas Eve, we finally took the plunge--that awful, terrible confrontation conversation that nobody on earth really likes--and after half and hour or so, the tension disappeared like it had never been there in the first place. It was amazing. Everything returned to the way it should be, and that evening I found myself sitting in their family living room opening little Christmas presents like I had on Christmas Eves before. I think this was the best kind of Christmas present I could have asked for.
Hurray!
Alright, now let's talk about actual Christmas Day. I get fascinated by other people's Christmas morning traditions, which are all pretty much the same as well as completely different. They go like this: everyone wakes up, some meaningful things are said, someone is "Santa" and hands out presents to everyone, and turns are taken so that it makes a kind of show. (and if you don't open your present with enthusiasm, everyone will stare daggers at you!) Then, when presents are open, everyone eats something delicious for breakfast. After that, there's a lot of hanging out.
WELL. This morning I was not woken up by pretty Christmas music, as per usual. Instead, my sister threw open my door (BEFORE nine o' clock) and huffed "Get up," before turning around and leaving me alone to figure out what day it was. I squinted at the clock, brushed my hair, tripped down the stairs, got some eggnog, and sat down on the couch. Then we had a family Christmas devotional with my ever-enthusiastic mother for about half an hour and even sang some carols (which sounded a bit croaky). Then puffy-faced, just-had-her-wisdom-teeth-out-and-is-a-total-grouch-because-of-it Audrey acted as Santa. And, as usual, I got what I asked for, with the added bonus of Baby Bottle Pops and Reese's bells. After that--yup, you guessed it--special breakfast with once-a-year sausageballs. Nothing much happened after that until lunch, when we had Japanese hibachi, a Christmas tradition because mom doesn't want to cook and the Japanese places are the only ones open on Christmas. The rest of the day was spent watching movies and eating food. BUMMING.
Oh yeah, and for once we actually had a decent snow on Christmas. It was perfect!
It was a lovely, bum-derful day. Now I am preparing to be afflicted with post-Christmas blues. Farewell, Nat King Cole. I'll miss you.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
I'm Tired of Being Sick.
Well, that's a lovely title, isn't it?
I'll explain myself. Remember when I mentioned the alien implant that has been acting up over the last month? Well, it seems to have this nasty habit of not leaving. Last weekend, it was popping up a little here and there until I felt like death on Sunday night (at my pastor's house, no less...we'll talk about that later...) Nurse Barb gave me medicine on Monday that helped straighten things out for a few days--not completely, but mostly--and I went home thinking I was getting better. Hooray, hoorah, I woke up yesterday going crap. Not literally--well, kind of--*uhm*--what I mean is that I was not feeling well. My first reaction was to call downstairs to my doctor father, "Oh father, I am feeling unwell," (that was paraphrased) and within an hour he brought me LOTS of medicine and a plethora of soup cans from Walmart. Now, the next evening, I am finally feeling almost all the way better.
Theories:
-Alien abduction.
-Satan thinks I'm fat and put me on his weight loss program.
-Immaculate conception ('tis the season, after all).
-I am slowly turning into a werewolf. Next month, I will sprout hair...everywhere.
-My belly is jealous for attention.
-I'm becoming Mrs. Claus. Transformation will be complete on Christmas Eve!
Time to change the subject. What happened at your pastor's house?!?! is now everyone wants to know. Here's what happened. I decided to go to my church's Christmas concert on the night it was destined to snow something awful. This left me stranded down the mountain, so I stayed with my friend, the pastor's daughter--which means I stayed at my pastor's house. Then the three of us watched a movie together, and she conveniently left right before the--er--dirty part of the movie. So I was left watching this couple get it on onscreen while sitting next to my pastor.
....
Then I got sick.
Anyway, Wednesday night was interesting. Lisa, Kait, and I decided to walk back after dinner around 6:30. Walking soon turned into sliding and I was suddenly wishing that I'd asked for ice skates for Christmas. Ice was pouring from the sky and the ground was like glass. It was the first time I've ever had frozen hair, making it slightly more awesome than terrifying.
I learned a lesson on Thursday that I would like to share with everyone: a good night's sleep is necessary to your survival. Got it? I only got five hours of sleep on Wednesday night (the ice was too fascinating to let me sleep) and I was sure I was going to wreck on Thursday when I drove home. It was raining, I thought the car was rocking back and forth, every semi truck wanted to eat me, and the spray off of other vehicles was blinding. On top of this, I was feeling slightly sick and my brain was going ".............."
But God thought I needed to live longer, so both Beulah and I are both here, unharmed. I think.
I was going to go ice skating today. I've wanted to go ice skating for a year. My belly said, "Not so fast, young one!" Therefore, I spent the afternoon reading my favorite book ever, ever, ever, ever....Ella Enchanted. This may be the sixth or seventh time I've read it, yet it never disappoints. It's cute, it's funny, it's substantial. I get emotionally tied up in it, burning with full-on hatred for Hattie, the evil stepsister, and falling head-over-heels in love with Char, the prince (who isn't real, I know. It's a problem.) It's an intelligent spin-off of Cinderella and, being a princess myself, I have to love it.
Did you know that Justin Bieber has three cds, and each has the words "My World" in the title? I know this because my sister just gave me "My Worlds Acoustic". There's no apostrophe in the title on purpose, I might add. It's a mixture of songs from the first two cds: "My World" and "My World 2.0", which makes for "My Worlds". This kid is more narcissistic than I am! I LOVE IT!
Now, two pictures I like. Number one: Lauramunch, Lisamunch, Fuzzymunch, and shower safety Brian Peppers.
Number two: Uno Stacko is one of the best, most nerve-racking games ever.
......What's that, belly? You say it's bedtime? Ok, that sounds good. Can I go see one of my friends tomorrow? Pleasepleaseplease?? ...We'll see? You'll get back to me in the morning? *huff* FINE.
I'll explain myself. Remember when I mentioned the alien implant that has been acting up over the last month? Well, it seems to have this nasty habit of not leaving. Last weekend, it was popping up a little here and there until I felt like death on Sunday night (at my pastor's house, no less...we'll talk about that later...) Nurse Barb gave me medicine on Monday that helped straighten things out for a few days--not completely, but mostly--and I went home thinking I was getting better. Hooray, hoorah, I woke up yesterday going crap. Not literally--well, kind of--*uhm*--what I mean is that I was not feeling well. My first reaction was to call downstairs to my doctor father, "Oh father, I am feeling unwell," (that was paraphrased) and within an hour he brought me LOTS of medicine and a plethora of soup cans from Walmart. Now, the next evening, I am finally feeling almost all the way better.
Theories:
-Alien abduction.
-Satan thinks I'm fat and put me on his weight loss program.
-Immaculate conception ('tis the season, after all).
-I am slowly turning into a werewolf. Next month, I will sprout hair...everywhere.
-My belly is jealous for attention.
-I'm becoming Mrs. Claus. Transformation will be complete on Christmas Eve!
Time to change the subject. What happened at your pastor's house?!?! is now everyone wants to know. Here's what happened. I decided to go to my church's Christmas concert on the night it was destined to snow something awful. This left me stranded down the mountain, so I stayed with my friend, the pastor's daughter--which means I stayed at my pastor's house. Then the three of us watched a movie together, and she conveniently left right before the--er--dirty part of the movie. So I was left watching this couple get it on onscreen while sitting next to my pastor.
....
Then I got sick.
Anyway, Wednesday night was interesting. Lisa, Kait, and I decided to walk back after dinner around 6:30. Walking soon turned into sliding and I was suddenly wishing that I'd asked for ice skates for Christmas. Ice was pouring from the sky and the ground was like glass. It was the first time I've ever had frozen hair, making it slightly more awesome than terrifying.
I learned a lesson on Thursday that I would like to share with everyone: a good night's sleep is necessary to your survival. Got it? I only got five hours of sleep on Wednesday night (the ice was too fascinating to let me sleep) and I was sure I was going to wreck on Thursday when I drove home. It was raining, I thought the car was rocking back and forth, every semi truck wanted to eat me, and the spray off of other vehicles was blinding. On top of this, I was feeling slightly sick and my brain was going ".............."
But God thought I needed to live longer, so both Beulah and I are both here, unharmed. I think.
I was going to go ice skating today. I've wanted to go ice skating for a year. My belly said, "Not so fast, young one!" Therefore, I spent the afternoon reading my favorite book ever, ever, ever, ever....Ella Enchanted. This may be the sixth or seventh time I've read it, yet it never disappoints. It's cute, it's funny, it's substantial. I get emotionally tied up in it, burning with full-on hatred for Hattie, the evil stepsister, and falling head-over-heels in love with Char, the prince (who isn't real, I know. It's a problem.) It's an intelligent spin-off of Cinderella and, being a princess myself, I have to love it.
Did you know that Justin Bieber has three cds, and each has the words "My World" in the title? I know this because my sister just gave me "My Worlds Acoustic". There's no apostrophe in the title on purpose, I might add. It's a mixture of songs from the first two cds: "My World" and "My World 2.0", which makes for "My Worlds". This kid is more narcissistic than I am! I LOVE IT!
Now, two pictures I like. Number one: Lauramunch, Lisamunch, Fuzzymunch, and shower safety Brian Peppers.
Number two: Uno Stacko is one of the best, most nerve-racking games ever.
......What's that, belly? You say it's bedtime? Ok, that sounds good. Can I go see one of my friends tomorrow? Pleasepleaseplease?? ...We'll see? You'll get back to me in the morning? *huff* FINE.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Snow and Lisa Claus
I hate snow.
No, let me rephrase that. I actually like snow when I'm planning to stay inside to look at it, or when I have my ski pants and boots ready to go outside in it for about fifteen minutes. Newsflash, folks: snow is COLD. When I get cold, my skin dries right up and turns purple like a raisin. It's not cool. (ha--I just made a joke--snow isn't cool, it's cold...)
Here's something else I'm not a fan of: a sick stomach. The worst was after the Harry Potter premier (see "Alone in a Bathroom"), but I was sick again last weekend and then this weekend it's been sporadic. My roommate thinks it's all in my head. I think that aliens abducted me an put some funky implants in me. Soon fireworks will start shooting out of my belly and I'll be a superhero.
However, the alien implants couldn't stop me from going to see Tangled last weekend. My thoughts? I'm obsessed. The sickness made me miss the best part of the climax, but that gives me an excuse to go back.
The other night I babysat until about 9:45, and when I returned everyone was gone. Well, I moped about in my loneliness until about midnight, but right as I was going to bed the door burst open. (oohh!!! Santa?!!?! ....NO. BETTER THAN SANTA.) My roommate came in and threw something at me. I looked down at my lap and what sight did I behold? A DISNEY PRINCESS BED TENT. MY ROOMMATE IS THE BEST SANTA EVER. EVER. EVER. EVER. We assembled the tent and were up til 2 making shadow puppets.
My journal that day said, "This is stupendous."
I think my bed tent may be my favorite thing in the whole world right now.
On Friday I had to do a sociology project. Oh, I know what you're thinking. Sociology projects are the pits. Well, my friend, THIS sociology project was the bee's knees. Poor Laura and her assignment partner had to go downtown and eat donuts. Not just any donuts, mind you. A chocolate peppermint bark donut from Krispy Kreme and a key lime donut from Julie Darlin' Donuts--- "Making Chattanooga a sweeter place to be." I don't mind doing some free advertisement for Julie Darlin'. That place was the cat's meow.
Yesterday was cleaning day, a day that sounds worse than snow (even snow!) but is actually one of my favorite days of the semester. Lisa and I got up, turned on some Christmas music, and went to work. To make things more intense, we spoke to one another in Russian accents and called each other Helga and Greta. We even did pull-ups underneath the clean beds for added intensity. And no need for mops! Helga and Greta use the power in their muscular feet to clean the floor with wet rags. My roommate made me laugh so hard I almost wanted to pee my pants--but didn't, because that would be counter-productive to cleaning day.
Christmas is a time for lovers to hold one another tightly and stay safe from the cold (and snow. stupid snow.)You know what that means? Tis' the season for my snuggie.
It's still snowing. I hate snow.
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