bliggity blogger wriggity writer's blockity block.

What do you do when you have absolutely nothing to talk about? I feel like I haven't touched my blog in ages, so should write, yet I have nothing to say. Blogger's block? I think so.

I'm tired.

I dig shoe art

Think you'd be safe in this baby?

I'm Strange and You're Strange, Alraghhhht?

So my sister just commented on 2 posts ago telling me that I am strange. Yeah, I'm a little quirky. Everyone is a bit weird (that or boring).
I'm kinda proud of my weirdness, but it is definitely going to take someone just as strange to fall in love with me ;) not that I'm really concerned about that right now...anyways, chew on this:

True literature can exist only where it is created, not by diligent and trustworthy officials, but by madmen, hermits, heretics, dreamers, rebels, and skeptics.~Yevgeny Zamyatin

I'd probably take more comfort in this quote if I were aspiring to be a writer...put my madwoman ways to good use, yeah?

I do love literature and I think there can be a general consensus that much, if not most, of great literature has been written by madmen, hermits, dreamers, skeptics, etc.
So maybe I'm on the right path. I should brush up on my grammatik skills.

Silver hair

I'm in that in-between stage with my nail polish where I really need to take it all off then put a fresh coat on. Right now it's just half off and gross-looking. Even better, I looked in the bathroom mirror and found a little chipped nail polish in my hair. From scratching my head, perhaps?
Time to rid myself of this chaos.

Some people like a little silver/blue/purple in their hair...

And triangular haircuts, for that matter.

Frozen...Scissors?

Yesterday I was in charge of bringing a treat for Family Home Evening, so naturally, I bring my favorite: popsicles!! I had a huge box of 100 that I took over and I even provided scissors. After FHE I threw the scissors in the box and took it home. Not thinking, I threw the box in the freezer.
Today, as I reached to get my daily popsicle, I found something a little sharper and not meant to be swallowed -- my scissors. They were frozen shut. (They have since been thawed and able to cut things again).
People deep-fry everything (like these here dill pickles...weird) so why not freeze stuff too?
Like scissors? Yum.

Numero 6

I just dripped orange popsicle on my white shirt

Mmmm well that's self-explanatory. Basically, the following happened:
My shirt was white.
My popsicle was orange.
It is too hot.
My popsicle melted a little.
Melted popsicle drips.
Onto white shirts.
White shirt is now white with orange.

And now my white shirt has been washed and is currently residing in my dryer.

Ok so there is more about this confession than meets the eye. As unfortunate as it is, I frequently drip/spill/drop/smear food onto my clothing. Especially the white ones for some reason. And the food spilled must contain tomato or grape, otherwise it does not qualify for a spot. My mother likes to laugh at this misfortune. Or make me wear a cloth over my shirt.

Another Little Lesson from Astronomy

Apparently, when you do sudoku or crosswords in class, you miss things.

Go figure.

Ah, to be stubborn! (Confession #5)

On Confession #5:

The truth is, it is very hard to get me to do something that I've made up my mind against.
I am stubborn.
It is both my greatest weakness and my greatest strength.
It comes in handy for reaching goals and standing my ground over certain issues.
It can be detrimental to relationships.

Apparently, when I was a young lass, young enough to be in a toddler car seat, I already showed signs of this characteristic. According to me father, there was a day when I decided I did not want to be in my car seat. So I asked my Dad to let me out. His reply? "No." I proceeded to ask my Mom...and my eldest sister...and my 3 other siblings at the time.

I guess they all said "no" because I'm still alive.

Which reminds me -
Salesmen be warned: I am good at saying "no" and letting you know I mean it.

Let me just put a little plug in here: some responsibilities (school, work, family, etc.) you should probably do even if you don't want to. But when it comes to social things it's OK to say you don't want to. Why do something you don't want and be lame, when you can do something that you want to and love it?

"A happy heart belongs to the master who does what he wants." -- Confucius (but not really. I just made that up)

The Puzzle

The puzzle

Pick up the pieces,
then you organize:
arrange the color,
separate the sides.
Sit at the kitchen table,
ready to start.
And realize
you no longer have the heart.

How 'bout you chew on my fist?! - Kung Fu Panda

I once smashed a little scorpion with the palm of my hand. And that, my friends, is a true story.

Follow-up for my curious readers

You know that one misadventurous day I reported a little while ago?

Well, in case you were wondering:

I am far more careful when I wear those shoes now.

I took the corner into class very slow.

Also, I didn't get the job. So in my sleep I curse G-mail/my stupidity. But really G-mail's been good to me. My stupidity, on the other hand, has never been a handy asset.

#4 - the whole height thing

You probably wish this were a discussion on the "height issue" when it comes to dating. Unfortunately, this is not the case. (Though that could be a future post??)

The height thing is a reference to my fourth confession:

I'm afraid of heights.

Or maybe it's just the whole lying upside down on a cliff thing that gets to me. Which I did a few weekends ago and freaked out a little. We'll have to see if I'm actually terrified of other heights.

I always thought I was immune. But maybe it's old age and weak joints that make me a little nervous around those edges...

But the best way to combat fear is to face it right? (Or if possible, avoid it entirely...) So I'll just go on all the high rides and high hikes and I'll be fine. Kinda like how I have decided to conquer my fear/utter hatred for spiders by killing them myself instead of calling in recruits.

The only sad thing is, I still hate spiders. And by hate I mean they freak me out.

Yes, scared.



Poor Calvin. I feel for ya, man.

PS Calvin is short.