Gracious me, I haven't posted in a wildly long time. I guess if you count my last post which is about that I am going to Japan, than it's only been about three weeks. Only that was simply a teaser post that was meant to inform my three religious blog checkers of my good news, except for that two of them already knew. I got out of school last Friday, and I attended a school dance against my will, and apparenltly my will was a thinker when it protested my attending this dance because it was a lousy bomb. I have gone to a dance twice before and I know the nature of these demons, except for that two of my friends didn't and they signed up for one and I really couldn't do any activity independently obviously, so my last resort was to sign up as well. I had no idea that when someone asks you to dance they are expecting to dance the entire song with you, and it was a particularly slow moving dud of a song so I mumbled a silly excuse two and a half minutes in and scored an escape. This scored few points with any of my dance partners which created an "I told you so" moment for my will, who, if you will remember, protested my attending this dance in the first place.
Today I went to a white elephant party, to which I brought three cans of Friskies canned cat food and two lucious blocks of Toblerone. Since I was the first to open a present I was also the last, and just when I thought I was stuck with an attractive husky G.I. Joe character forever I betrayed him and snatched back my cat food and delectable swiss chocolate. It was overall clever thinking on my part and I'd regail you with another one of my numerous accomplishments except for that I am going to go and experience the Thai culture at a local exotic resteraunt.

I AM GOING TO JAPAN!!!

I mowed the lawn today for the very first time. And I have to say I love it. We have a cranky lawn mower that you have to jolt into action. You pull this funky lever ten or twenty times and BOOM! You're in business. Only sometimes, after six or seven tugs, it's suspects that I'm trying to rev it up and it rebels. I get into such a pattern, about two or three seconds in between each attempt, that it quickly catches on. I have a feeling that, if the lawnmower were a cat, it would be clenching it's teeth together and maybe it's ears would be flat and unattractive and fierce. And maybe if it were a dog, it would have set it's buttocks on the ground and shifted all it's weight in such a way that it's impossible to budge. Sometimes I have to sneak up on it; like, I'll do nothing at all for four or five seconds, like make it think that I've forgotton all about trying to start the lawn mower today. And then, BAM! I'm at it with all my strength and it never knew what hit it.

Except for that it's hard to sneak up on a lawn mower. And this being my first time, I didn't know the little tricks that veteran mowers learn from experience. Like, it's better to start on a flat surface. Which, I guess, get's the lawn mower in a good mood or something. And also, it better have gas in it because if there isn't then the mower isn't even inclined to start. Little things like this should be looked into when trying to start a lawn mower.

Coffee and I go way back. I remember fondly the days of italian sodas and cremosas and other naive beverages from the cottage. I would step up to the cashier in wide-eyed sincerity and order a lemon italion soda, or a limi or kiwi if I was feeling particularly spicy, because that was the closest it got to 7up when you lived a soda pop-deprived childhood. On those sweltering 75 degree days of summer, I enjoyed $1 granitas, which consist of fruit juice with added sugar and blended ice, while curiously eyeing my brother's less innocent coffee beverage. That was forbidden for those under ten- the caffine would keep us up til God knows what hour.

I guess my mother and father knew it was bound to happen eventually, but that didn't stop the experience from being excruciatingly painful the first time I asked for my juice glass to be filled with coffee. I crept into the kitchen and grabbed one of the macho 12 oz juice glasses, knowing all the while that when my mother had reluctantly said yes, that it would be okay for me to fill a glass, she had been referring to the tamer 80z variety. Five sips in and the rest was history- I was lost to coffee, the vicious cycle starting right then and there in my own kitchen in my own house, in my own eight year old innocence. The only hope for me would have been to be slowly weened off with church coffee, which isn't really coffee but more like a strong tea. But I'd heard talk of church coffee and steered clear of it- the first sign of coffee snobbery.

Now coffee is a habit, a hobby if you will. I reckon our family gives the cottage more business then the rest of our town put together. I've moved on from drip coffee with cream and sugar, and now experiment with soy and interesting flavors and the dreaded extra shot. I spend twice as much allowance on coffee as I do clothes in a month, and my brother recently counted nearly two hundred dolllars out in change from the year's coffee spendings. Is this right? Are there better things for us to spend our earnings on? Ponder this, and in the meantime, answer this question for a while:

What is the most money you've ever spent on a single beverage and what was it?

I could really get in to living on my own. I possibly might try it for a living. It's 100% stress free, on account of no one is breathing down your neck to do chores or clean something up or accomplish anything at all. Take yesterday, for example- I spent way more time then anyone ever should on a crossword puzzle, esspeically a puzzle of the "Super Fun 'n Easy" variety. I laid down in the hammok, while simotaneously beginning another crossword, and ate a cliff bar for lunch. Nobody asked "That's all your eating for lunch? There's some vegetables in the fridge. I'm making a salad, and then maybe I'll go work out and lift weights or run 10 miles and then complete an abs routine. Then I'll probably cancel all the sugar and fatty foods from my diet and eat nothing but herbs and ice water. Ice water burns calories, you know." Nobody whined about how there were dishes left out. I hate a mess of dishes as much as the next person- that's why, eventually, I'll get around to cleaning them up. And today? I scattered a mess of song chords all over the floor and left three guitars and a music stand out in the back room. And I STILL haven't cleaned them up! I also cooked shrimp and pasta without anyone reminding me that the shrimp was for spagetti sauce sometime and probably shouldn't have been halfway emptied and then refrozen. Which I did, in fact, and nothing has exploded. And I also emptied some icecream on to a cutting board and made a mess with grahm crackers and chocolate chips and blueberries. It was completely awesome and rewarding, and I'll probably do it again next time. That is, unless mother and father read this post, in which case there probably won't be a next time.

Today, I swatted a fly that was hovering over our kitchen stove. It flattened and fell into a boiling basin of whole wheat linguine. I fished it out with a wooden spoon and tossed it in the sink. Then I ate the linguine.

I'm usually pretty okay when it comes to being a planet friendly tree hugging vegetarians. I usually recycle (unless, of coarse, the paper bin is over 20 feet away- I mean, seriously) and I use both sides of my college ruled paper before tossing it, unless I've written with .5 lead, in which case I've pushed so hard that the opposite side of the paper is bumpy and therefore not available for future usage. But there's this new contraption that some other, more dedicated planet friendly tree hugging vegetarian has thought up, that I hate with a blind, vicious fury, comparable to Lord Voldemort after being yet again outsmarted by Harry in number four, or the White Witch spotting Aslan when she was so sure she'd done away with him on the stone table. But in this case, Aslan came in the form of the undoubtedly economical but extremely tedious blow-dry hand-dryers that are rapidly replacing every paper towel dispenser in the country. Now, after a good solid void a thorough hand washing is recommended, which would include lathering up with any variation of a St. Ives soap dispenser and cleansing your hands with lots and lots of water. Which, inevitably, would leave them dripping, begging tearfully for a cozy, dry paper towel of sorts to dry and warm them.

Enter a useless automatic hand dryer. Which leaves them unsatisfied and semi-sticky. And still wet.

And also, these things take a decade or two. Which is great if your a lonely grunting cavemen that has nothing else to do but make rabbit stew and dry his hands. But a happening teen, especially a teen in an airport bathroom five minutes before her plane blasts off really has no time for such nonsense. Especially if this teen is BRUSHING HER TEETH, in which case she is forced to dry her toothbrush under an automatic hand dryer before tossing it in her bag and hot footing it down to C4.

Above is a mugshot I picked up off google images.

Thriller!

Ever since I saw 13 Going On 30 I have longed to learn the thrilller dance. So I started out by typing "Thriller" into Amazon Music Downloads. And got zero perfect matches, and a whole bunch that weren't related. And then I went to launch.yahoo.com. The video is over thirteen minutes long, and they don't start dancing until eight minutes in. And there's no fasforward button. Then I visited a whole bunch of sites that wanted me to buy the video, which is a terrible deal and I will not shake on it because of it's free at Yahoo. Finally I've found a version that only includes the section of the thirteen minute production where Michael and a few hideous beasts (featuring terribly old-fashioned computer graphics) dance in the graveyard. And, bless my kind heart, I've given you the link. I expect most of you will probably want to learn this dance, too. The first link is for the just-dancing video but if you go to launch.yahoo.com, you can find the entire movie.

http://www.grouper.com/GlobalMedia/MediaDetails.aspx?id=663747&st=0&s=7&q=thriller

6:32

The fact that I haven't posted since April Somethingth has been weighing heavily on my conscience these last few days. I tried to post yesterday. I really did. Only I got caught up in trying to alter my template, and you know how it is: you spend years deleting and resetting and gong insane and by the time you've given up you're so sick of the computer you're considering going Amish. Atleast, that's the way it was with me.

It's six thirty two a.m. right now. Contrary to public opinion, Veget is not a chipper sparrow in the early hours of the morning, nor is she ever a chipper sparrow. The fact that it is before nine o clock only adds to my dull, lifeles quality at the moment. It's six thirty four, now. It took me two minutes to write like three sentences, and that's typing about sixty words per minute. The receptors in my fingers are currently receiving nada from my brain.

I stared out my window for inspiration a second ago. Artists and musicians are inspired from simple stuffs (the song "Yesterday" came to Paul McCartney in a dream, you know). I only wish everything came to me in a dream; that would be a brilliant excuse to sleep all day.

whats she doing? the lazy bum, she's been sleeping for thirty nine hours!

shhh!!! don't wake her! veget is being creatively inspired right now. she'll wake up and paint the Sistine chapel!

whoever said that is dumb. the chapel has already been dealt with. the only fault in my plan is that people would catch on once i started waking up only to do something uniquely human such as feed the cats or watch tv or something. Then again, type a few random words and throw in sporadic spacing and I could create a beautiful free verse. That might be a better bet because even if no one understands it the majority of the world like to say they do.

Definitely a Smoothie Day

The outlandish temp today peaked at a marvelous 82 degrees, according to the cottage parking lot. I would know because, having been in the cottage at the time, I had sunk a front row seat, and purchased a decadent wildberry jet tea smoothie. That particular barista was feeling generous at the time (probably delirious from the scorching heat), and I was far from shorted of whipped cream. Whipped cream should be frozen pre-spray like ice cream, therefore scoring casually gourmet appeal.

After returning from the cottage, I was justifiably sweaty and needed to take an icy shower to cool down. Have you ever noticed (I am speaking only to freezing shower veterans- back off you childish amateur) that when you are exposed to freezing water directly to your head that you gasp freakishly? Sort of like a frog who's been dunked unwillingly in a puddle- your eyes pop and you wriggle, possibly omitting an insane hoot from time to time.


I'm feeling sort of wildly wordy right now. Seems as if i'm been squeezing in unnecessary adjectives. They're crowding my sentences and suffocating my nouns, but when I try to delete the poor guys I feel cruel.

+

Has it been gorgeous out or what? I for one have been appreciating this weather to the fullest! on sunday, i took a long nap directly in the sun. Of coarse, I woke up with a headache soon after, but it was so dreamily picturesque while it lasted. Today i was crammed into a contaminated desk for 4 hours, but i took a run in the blazing sun when I arrived home to make up for lost time. Still panting, I gazed at myself in the bathroom mirror and tried hard to decide if I was sunburnt. Last August I bought an expensive bottle of aloe vera and haven't had much chance to use it on account of this loathesome forty degree nonsense. As I furrowed my brows at my tomato red cheeks, I decided that under no means would I take any chances; rushing to my closet, I grabbed the aloe and slathered all over my face. And now I smell a little weird.

Lemon Shreds & Coconut Failures

i haven't posted lately, but not for a lack of things to post about. far from it, in fact. I only post about food and primarily what i've been doing is food. On thursday i made whole wheat cranberry walnut granola bars, and they were delicious. On friday I tried to make them again, only healthier, and it was a flop. The final product resembled a bowl of sweetened oats. I hid them in my room, ashamed. Today I made coconut macaroon bars and lemon squares. The coconut macaroon bars were gorgeous until the recipe (unwisely) told me to spread chocolate chips on top of them. They're completely hideous now, but I can only hope that it's what's inside that counts. The lemon bars required grated lemon peels, which is a pain when your lemon is squishy and your grater dull. I am completely unsatisfied right now, but, luckily, i did enough homework while they were in the oven to have something even more negative to compare it to. And they're seeming might fine.

Sorry, bloggers. I've been wretchedly out-of-touch. When a gourmet chef, such as myself, gets into one of those zones (you know what i mean- then again, maybe you dont), it's hard for us to concentrate on much else. Suffice to say, I have been making plenty of biscotti, possibly my favorite of which was the cranberry/almond 1/2 whole wheat batch I made yesterday. Today Happy and myself produced delicious double-chocolate chip cookies. Although she might have a significant lack of experience, comparitively (but let's be fair-look who she's up against!), she made an expemplary cooking partner. Her wide smiles and charming wit matched with my staggering talent are explosively succesful in the fieldof gourmet cooking.

Goddess's Lucious Chai

Goddess suggested a lucious recipe of chai that has me raving. First, you need a box of black spice chai tea bags. Except for only use one of them because otherwise you'd have crazily strong chai, like coffee. Place the tea bag and 8 oz of milk (soy milk, if you have it) in a cup, preferabley your mother's finest china. Nuke it in the microwave for a minute and thirty seconds or so, or until the milk is really hot. Test it with your finger unless it's really really hot, in which case you just hope and prey. Then, add 1/2 teaspoon of brown sugar to the cup and a sprinkling of cinamon and nutmeg. Grab a picturesque cinamon stick and place it at a diagonal in your chai. Grab your mother's finest china plate and unwrap a savory chai tea luna bar, take a picture, and digest.

Biscotti

So recently I have been whipping up batches of divine biscotti. On Wednesday I produced a fine Chocolate Chip/Almond biscotti, and just yesterday I experimented with Cranberry/Almond. There is a batch of Espresso/Choc Chip cooling right now, and i just nibbled on a bit and it was absolutely disgusting. It was a terrible recipe and I urge you to stear clear of any recipe calling for strong brewed coffee. I added hazelnuts to our shopping list in the hopes that my next batch might be more sucessful. For now I shall fall to my knees and sob in a corner.

SEATTLE!

Seattle was fabulous. Our hotel, Best Western, was far more glamorous then any other Best Western I've ever seen. There was a doorman who sprang to attention whenever you were within fifteen feet of the door, even if your arms weren't full. Of coarse, he was board as anything and I couldn't blame him for wanting some excitement, even if it did consist of something as pittily as a door. Since we arrived three hours earlier then check-in time, we desperately needed somebody to unload us of our baggage. Not to worry! A cheerful young employee relieved us of our burdens, and informed us he'd bring them up to our rooms. Of coarse, what he didn't inform us of is that we'd be expected to leave him a tip. Which made it sound a lot more appealing to just take up our own bags.

As I mentioned, we arrived three hours early. So we roamed Pikes Market for three hours or so. It was a fabolous experience because of the samples, in particular. I covered a cheese factory, a truffle shop, and lots of little French Bakeries and Starbucks', which are the predominant species in Seattle. I sampled a luscious orange chocolate truffle, except for it wasn't as tacky as orange. No, it was pegged someting sophisticated and charismatic such as, ladamalencias, or the essence of that, anyway. I also stabbed a cheesecurd with a small, menacing harpoon (aka toothpick), and savored it's squeeky crumbles in my pearly whites.

The next day, we rode a fairy to Banbride Island, experienced an Underground Tour, and visited Ye Old Curiousity Shop. Except for what I really just wanted to talk about was the food.

Are Luna Bars an aquired taste? I didn't think so. I have brought one to lunch every day for about two weeks. Kids peer sadly down at their greasy dominoes pizza and snapple and gaze longingly at my own delectable entre. I shrug my shoulders and raise my eyebrows at them in an, "oh-well, that's-just-the-way-it-is" manner," and then proceed to carefully unwrap my succulent luncheon. However, last Tuesday Happy unwrapped a Chocolate Peppermint Stick and wrinkled her nose disgustedly. Just minutes ago, I unwrapped a Chai Tea (my own personal favorite) for her, and after three bites she set it down. Now, I had only just poured myself a bowl of granola with quaker oats when I realized there was no milk, and was already suffering my own tradgedy. Happy, looking doubtfully at snack, offered it to me saying, "I don't like it, but I don't want to waste it." The prospect of cereal having been dashed, I accepted her offering, therebye lifting a great load off her chest. I am such a mench.

if i could delete all these dumb posts i would i'd like to just start over. unfortuantely i'm going to go watch a movie now (good night and good luck) and i decided to write the review after i've seen it this time so sit tight.

the succesful persuit of happiness (part 1)

what a fantastic day...*sighs dreamily. eyelids flutter seductively.* i traipsed into the library, unaware of the good fortune soon to rain down apon my unsuspecting noggin. as i made my way over to the rack of used magazines, i said a little prayer: lord, please let there be a recent readers digest, perhaps with a gripping headline such as '100 ways to fight influenza'. please let there be a prevention previously unseen by mortal eyes, preferabley with a laughing, fit model in a chic ensamble. this is all i ask of you (except for this last bit is sung in a manly tenor as it is in the phantom of the opera). imagine my astonishment as my eyes snapped open to behold a pack of 10 or so old readers digests, and TWO recent prevention magazines with TWO laughing models in ONE chic ensamble! not the same chic ensamble, you sick minded villian!there was just this one model who was dressed without thought or style. But i quickly forgave her for choosing all-white when i spotted 'skincare treatments' in the lower left hand corner. and here's the kicker of the whole shebang: i snagged the whole shinanagag for fourty-five cents, a sensational deal! i am decent enough to wait atleast four to five days before i begin to butcher these magazines, but after that, they're history. i will artiscially create nosensical but undoubtebly inspirational collages and paste them to my wall along with my shiny golden medallion (aka cheep green ribbon) which, as you all know, reperesents supreme genious and unceasing strength and courage.

when a cliff bar just won't cut it...

Cliff Bars are for husky thirty-four year old male mountain climbers, and not at all suitable for your average gorgeous jc penny model such as myself. No, a champion bibble quizzer and guitar virtuoso deserves the whole nutrition only the company that makes cliff bars can deliver. Luna Bars balance me hormonaly, and urge me into striking positions such as lady on the logo (she's the one dancing in front of the moon). Although I couldn't make it to the moon in time, I did give the twinkling Venus a visit just yesterday and i practiced the bloated lizzard and the pouncing cougar and nuked whole soy milk in the microwave. My eyes flutter in an aroused sleeping-beauty like manner, almost as if my darling prince had laid a sweeping kiss apon my rosebud lips. But not quite. The goddess athena has granted me the oppurtunity to try carmel nut brownie, nutz over chocolate, and something else i can't remember, and on friday i shall flap my muscular wings and raid the traider joes stock of whole nutrition bars for women.

of the week

joke of the week is selected by randomly choosing a page in "the 901 best jokes there ever was" book so yeah it's not my fault if they suck and go get mad somewhere else.

song of the week: posters- jacky j

food of the week: licorice jelly bean

drink of the week: hot chocolate chai

song veggie's learning on guitar of the week: lancelot- dave carter

joke of the week: wait...the first one i saw was dirty...let me look again...these do not make any sense..."i can pick a face out of a crowd just like that!" "so why did you pick that one?"

rude offensive and witless. score three.

poem of the week: 'sneaky sue' by jack perlutsky

book of the week: 'why friends are friends' by jack willcuts. SCREAM!

i'm done. bovver.

junor high jamboree

hoh geez i wish i was still at junior high jam. i miss the grumpy cafeteria lady who yelled at me for getting hot cocoa after breakfast. and i miss the stinky girl's bathroom and room 201. that wasn't the room we were in i just miss it. and plus i miss room 202 with the rotting chocolate cake on the windowsill. and i miss our feeble attempts to air out that place. and i miss british bulldog and almost getting my pants pulled down cause i didn't have a belt on. only not that much. plus also i miss setting up for lunch and putting two mayonaises on the same table.


sigh.

movie reviews: elizabeth town

a fantastic film concerning the meaning of 'making do with what you have' and different family beliefs clashing together unexpectedly making for a rioutous result. kirsten dunst plays a spunky, quick-witted character, who is secretly in love with orlando, a boxer-clad tortured artist with a distinctice jaw line going for him. the basic outline is that orlando wants to go to greece to take art lessons and kirsten thinks it's a complete waste of money. growing up, kirsten's family had always been penny-pinchers, wheras orlando grew up in ritzy LA, where risking outragous sums in casinos and bars was a daily activity. the only stink was when kirsten...

ok nevermind i have to eat supper. i haven't seen the film yet, btw.

experiments

superbowl sunday. a perfect day to avoid the tv and bake up a storm while keeping an ear perked for the score. which is what chat and i did. while other less advanced lifeforms flopped themselves in front of the 45 inch plasma, chat and i experimented. MEANING WE MADE UP OUR VERY OWN COOKIE RECIPE.


we weren't even sorta going off a recipe, sorta not. we weren't even looking. betty crocker missed chat and i that day, as we rifled through her cupoard and pulled out APROXIMATELY the following:

a stick of butter
some white sugar
some brown sugar
some vanilla
some salt
some flour
some oats
some chocolate chips
some melted truffles
some dark chocolate cocoa powder
some baking soda
some baking powder


and some other stuff, and mixed it all up. then we cooked it in the oven on 350 for 8 minutes and 30 seconds, except for that one time where we forgot they were in there and so while they wore out there welcomes in that sizzling furnace we ate sunchips and watched arrested development.

good luck making those cookies, all! they're called stealers, btw, in support of the winning team.

guurown.

i rolled my eyes in fury when i glanced at our spice rack. for one thing, the butter seasoning (used to produce utterly delicious corn pop) is sitting right by the rosemarry, which is tacky of it. i don't know what fred meyers was even thinking, but it was a dumb think, when they colored the plastic container yellow. like as if they didn't know that it would go next to the rosemerry. cause excuse me but the rosemerry is in a glass antique vase which gives the entire kitchen a rustic down home feel which is completely DESTROYED by the shabby shoddy presence of that PLASTIC WHATCHAMUCOLIT THAT HOSTS OUR BUTTER SEASONING USED TO PRODCUE UTTERLY DELICIOUS CORN POP!

quiz: are you hyper, lazy, or both?

answer a, b, or c for the following questions.

your alarm clock goes off at 3:30 am, two hours early! you...
a) freak out
b) nod off
c) freak out, then nod off.

you drop your cereal bowl by accident and it smashes to the floor into a thosand pieces. you...
a) freak out
b) nod off
c) freak out, then nod off.

you prance outdoors to find that, in the middle of the night, someone stole the reverent old maple that loomed forbodingly over your house on particulary dark and stormy nights. you...
a) freak out
b) nod off
c) freak out, then nod off.

you arrive at school only to find that a arsonist exploded your school long after visiting hours were over. you...
a)freak out
b)nod off
c)freak out, then nod off.

you dash to the local hardware store for some glue and nails to piece your school back together, only to find that, in the middle of the night, long after it was acceptible to explode things, a 747 smashed into the hardware store and upset the nail display. you...
a) freak out
b) nod off
c) freak out, then nod off.

you bewilderdly stumble through town only to find that a mediorite crashed through town smooshing everyone else and narrowly missing you by inches in the middle of the night. you...
a) freak out
b) nod off
c) freak out, then nod off

mostly a's

you're a wild hyper crazy freak and you need to learn to settle down. try yoga or some breathing excercises once or twice a day, and take baths in lavender syrup and mock-oatmeal flakes.

mostly b's

you're a lazy bum and you watch football. try a quad shot cappichino to kick off your day, or, if you'd like a more disgusting approach, drink some red bull.

mostly c's
order a quad shot cappichino and then take a lavender bath.

Topic Sentence: The Cottage is refreshing in the morning.

Supporting Facts:

• There aren't as many people
• The regular cottage-blend coffee is fresh

Paragraph 1: Because it was early (8:00 a.m.), it was understandable that there weren't hardly any people. I admit, I felt a little out of place, being the only ___ year old, sweaty and red-faced, and wearing kinda cruddy looking sweat pants and a sweatshirt, but I got over myself. I had Leslie's and my notebook with me, and it was so much easier to write when there wasn't music playing or a ton of people chattering or baby's screaming or buildings exploding.

Paragraph 2: Ok, I don't know zactly how long I can talk about fresh coffee, but I'll shoot for roughly 69 words.

I would like to begin by saying that cottage has a fantastic taste for coffee. that should be a given (that coffee shops have a nice coffee taste, i mean), but it's NOT. STARBUCKS tastes a little watery, sometimes. sometimes always. Cottage, on the other hand, which is NOT a billion dollar business, makes a strong, but not TOO strong, perfectly ballanced mixture of water and finely ground bean.

FRIK! that's 68.

There is no paragraph 3. Now I'm just going to talk.

So anyway, this was supposed to be sort of a mind-clearing excersize, and it was in a way. The thing is, I have so much trouble with clearing my thoughts. Which was kind of why silent meeting was unsuccesful for me. If God was telling me something, I guess she was probably whispering whereas any other thing i might have thought was screaming in comparison. So I still need to work on that.

See what kind of things evolve when you skip a day of school?

between two and three, dang it.

dang it. i'm in between two and three. three feels a little tight and two feels a little lose. they practically slide the whole entire way down on two. and on three it isn't, like, WOW THAT'S REALLY SQUEEZED but not like WOW THAT'S REALLY NOT SQUEEZED, either. so you see where i'm stuck here? i'm thinking of just punching in another hole, but i'm afraid that at some inoppurtune moment they're gonna break and i'll have to use a peice of string.

oh yeah i was talking about my belt, by the way.


and plus, guitar for dummies, which i picked up from the library, turned out to be a hugo dissapointment. like, first of all, it requires reading NOTES. which i can't do. and then plus the chords they taught were ones that i (ever the chord-savvy musician) already knew! plus, to top it all off, put the icing on the cake, and be the last straw ALL AT ONCE the whole entire stupid book was for ELECTTIC guitar. and never once anywhere did it mention that little detail. some clueless doof would havd taken the ELECTRIC GUTAIR on the cover of the book for a sign. but i knew better. i knew better then to actually READ THE REVIEWS before i requested it. glance offhandedly at the cover. or the inside cover. or the first or second page.

so now i just have a DVD of guitar for dummies. then again, the guy on the cover had an inviting aura and a warm smile, so i should be in pretty good shape.

how bout them seahawks

so what happened yesterday, anyway? at school, everyone was trudging around muttering 'how bout them seahawks', grunting and gaffawing stupidly. i mean, yeah! my thought's exactly! what about the seahawks?

now i admit, my eyes weren't glued to the screen, like, 24/7. ok, so, i wasn't in the tv room. ok, i don't think the tv was even on. but anyway, i coudln't exactly follow what was going on. like, the score for one thing? refresh my memory?

now, you would think it'd be simple easy to tell what happened just by the looksa things. not true! i mean, yeah, they either won or they lost. the question is, which was it? i mean, everyone says the same thing either way. it's either, 'huh, huh, how bout them seahawks?", or "ha, ha, how bout them seahawks?"

'huh' and 'ha'. don't even think i didin't try. it's all a matter of where you put the emphasis. like, if they said, hhhhhhhuh, forcefully, with much emphasis on the 'h', not only would it sound trollish, but also like they were trying to take a dump. and if they said, haaaaaaaaaa!, it would sound victorious, like maybe they'd won at fooseball after being continually pummled with harsh, discouring words, or maybe when your mom says ah there's no toothpaste left and you smirk wisely and squeeze and squeeze and squeeze and a drop comes out. like that.

ok, so decide for yourself. whether they won or not it doesn't really matter cause i wasn't there to see it.

sigh...

ahh....i can breath! i'm finished, and here is the final product:

ok now you're gonna have to scroll around.

it's 10:01 pm, i just got back from the first quiz meet. i've gotten over the initial dissapointment of NOT having made it into the top eight, and i'm in a semi-optimistic mood. i've completed 'hallelujah' on my guitar, and i was thinking of moving on to 'i will follow you into the dark' by death cab for cutie. except for that i can't find the chords anywhere. so if anyone has a handy site that basically dolls out death cab lyrics, i'd like the web address. 'guitar for dummies' (both the book and the video recording) are waiting for me at the library, and i'm excited to see if i'll be able to understand any of it. if i can, it'll be a first.

good night. it's 10:04 and i'm beginning to droop. i've sank a few inches from the perky stance i started off in.

tRANSFORMATIONS...

sorry this blog'll look like crap til i fix it.

hard to read...

yes, i know this is hard to read. but i love it anyway. it's weird, the backround is a comic in spanish. and then it's just some patterned paper i found on google. anyway, i'm about ready to start up blogging again. i know i know we've tried this over and over but this time i'm really, really ready to start again. and if you couldn't read this, here you go:

start blogging!