(no subject)
Today was very awesome.
People = presents!
YAY!!!
Well, here's my day in an egg shell:
Woken up by dad and he said we are going to the mall for CHRISTMAS SHOPPING!! All my years of being Samta Claus have not been ruined this year! That made me happy. Yep, pretty darn happy.
Tomorrow I will be rushed with completing my homework assignment, because, yet again, all I did was think about how I would do it, instead of just doing it. I could, right now, just go and fix my paper because Mr. Ogle seemed to find a lot wrong with it. Whatever. 'Sall good.
I practiced today. But no one's prolly surprised because I do that a lot. And my music's here . . . and so is my instrument. And there's nothing else besides homework to do. So why not? And I did manage to actually find things to work on.
I am so tired, and it's kinda upsetting to hear that I won't get a chance for a long night's sleep for another week. I need one of those.
And I absolutely have to go to church tomorrow. Which sucks. Kinda. I mean, I'm happy about going and stuff, I guess, but I really don't wanna sit through a service.
And I might have to go with my own church to ressurection. If that's the case, I'm not going because I'm not sharing a cabin with Hunter or Nick or anybody because they are as annoying as a mo.
Mom will sway because she has to understand the whole "GO WITH PEOPLE I LIKE" vs. "DON'T GO AT ALL" thing.
Things would be easier if Mark weren't stupid.
And Chrissy. She's pretty darn stupid.
And I bet that whole Christmas band church thing will not work out too well. I hope it does, but how do you expect a sax, two flutes and two trumpets to sound the least bit exciting?
Jennifer and Chris: DO IT!
The band thing, that is. We don't want any incest stories, thanks.
But anyway.
I went to an antique store and actually found the most awesomest present ever. SO I got it and it will be an awesome present. Funny how things work out.
That also reminds me.
I found an actual bed chinchilla. It's the scary kind, too. The kind that dresses up like Indians. It was at this one stand in the mall, with carvings and stuff. It's this rabbity-looking thing, but it's called a bed-chinchilla because it was doing some sort of war dance and it reminded me of it. So there ya go. I have to draw a picture from memory. I shoulda taken a picture. I shoulda gotten it, but it was $20, and it was only about 7 inches high. It didn't look like it as worth that much.
Sigh . . .
It was a really awesome bed-chinchilla too.
That reminds me of the one time I got stung by a scorpion in my own bed.
Remember that?
If ya don't, I'll tell you the story again.
Story:
There I was, in the middle of the night . . . sleeping. All of a sudden, I woke up. And then I thought for a second and realized that my hand was kinda warm under my pillow. That's how I sleep. My hands under my pillow. I pulled it out and it was all sweaty. And there was a sharp pain coming from the ring finger. Left hand. I inspected it . . . saw nothing. Thought nothing of it, and stuck my hand back under the pillow. There it was again. So I sat up, yoinked my pillow away, and there it was . . . A SCORPION!! GAH!! My own friends that I have vowed not to kill . . . turned against me. So I got really pissed and decided that I shall never sleep in my bed again. So I got up and slept in my blue chair. Or, at least, attempted to. I couldn't. SO I turned on the TV, and that was the first time I ever saw O*Grady.
So yeah. it's funny how one story can lead to another. I also forgot to mention that this was the ending of eighth grade, and I still hadn't had my surgery yet. I remember that because I remember having to move the foot bath outta the way before I could recline in the chair.
And the bug man hadn't come yet, so there were centipedes in my room. I hate those . . . They are the worst. And that night I killed two of those, and three scorpions. And also, keep in mind that I had just moved into my new basement room of joy. The place that used to be my holy place. But ever since Vincent started walking, it's become the off-limits room. When I'm in trouble, I'm upstairs and with the family. Isn't that weird?
Usually it's the . . . other way . . . around.
Yeah.
Okay, so I think I may have taken up enough of your time. Well, maybe not because if you didn't wanna read it, you wouldn't be, but that's okay.
I'm going to work on stuff before I go to bed.
Good night, and don't let the bed-chinchillas bite.
People = presents!
YAY!!!
Well, here's my day in an egg shell:
Woken up by dad and he said we are going to the mall for CHRISTMAS SHOPPING!! All my years of being Samta Claus have not been ruined this year! That made me happy. Yep, pretty darn happy.
Tomorrow I will be rushed with completing my homework assignment, because, yet again, all I did was think about how I would do it, instead of just doing it. I could, right now, just go and fix my paper because Mr. Ogle seemed to find a lot wrong with it. Whatever. 'Sall good.
I practiced today. But no one's prolly surprised because I do that a lot. And my music's here . . . and so is my instrument. And there's nothing else besides homework to do. So why not? And I did manage to actually find things to work on.
I am so tired, and it's kinda upsetting to hear that I won't get a chance for a long night's sleep for another week. I need one of those.
And I absolutely have to go to church tomorrow. Which sucks. Kinda. I mean, I'm happy about going and stuff, I guess, but I really don't wanna sit through a service.
And I might have to go with my own church to ressurection. If that's the case, I'm not going because I'm not sharing a cabin with Hunter or Nick or anybody because they are as annoying as a mo.
Mom will sway because she has to understand the whole "GO WITH PEOPLE I LIKE" vs. "DON'T GO AT ALL" thing.
Things would be easier if Mark weren't stupid.
And Chrissy. She's pretty darn stupid.
And I bet that whole Christmas band church thing will not work out too well. I hope it does, but how do you expect a sax, two flutes and two trumpets to sound the least bit exciting?
Jennifer and Chris: DO IT!
The band thing, that is. We don't want any incest stories, thanks.
But anyway.
I went to an antique store and actually found the most awesomest present ever. SO I got it and it will be an awesome present. Funny how things work out.
That also reminds me.
I found an actual bed chinchilla. It's the scary kind, too. The kind that dresses up like Indians. It was at this one stand in the mall, with carvings and stuff. It's this rabbity-looking thing, but it's called a bed-chinchilla because it was doing some sort of war dance and it reminded me of it. So there ya go. I have to draw a picture from memory. I shoulda taken a picture. I shoulda gotten it, but it was $20, and it was only about 7 inches high. It didn't look like it as worth that much.
Sigh . . .
It was a really awesome bed-chinchilla too.
That reminds me of the one time I got stung by a scorpion in my own bed.
Remember that?
If ya don't, I'll tell you the story again.
Story:
There I was, in the middle of the night . . . sleeping. All of a sudden, I woke up. And then I thought for a second and realized that my hand was kinda warm under my pillow. That's how I sleep. My hands under my pillow. I pulled it out and it was all sweaty. And there was a sharp pain coming from the ring finger. Left hand. I inspected it . . . saw nothing. Thought nothing of it, and stuck my hand back under the pillow. There it was again. So I sat up, yoinked my pillow away, and there it was . . . A SCORPION!! GAH!! My own friends that I have vowed not to kill . . . turned against me. So I got really pissed and decided that I shall never sleep in my bed again. So I got up and slept in my blue chair. Or, at least, attempted to. I couldn't. SO I turned on the TV, and that was the first time I ever saw O*Grady.
So yeah. it's funny how one story can lead to another. I also forgot to mention that this was the ending of eighth grade, and I still hadn't had my surgery yet. I remember that because I remember having to move the foot bath outta the way before I could recline in the chair.
And the bug man hadn't come yet, so there were centipedes in my room. I hate those . . . They are the worst. And that night I killed two of those, and three scorpions. And also, keep in mind that I had just moved into my new basement room of joy. The place that used to be my holy place. But ever since Vincent started walking, it's become the off-limits room. When I'm in trouble, I'm upstairs and with the family. Isn't that weird?
Usually it's the . . . other way . . . around.
Yeah.
Okay, so I think I may have taken up enough of your time. Well, maybe not because if you didn't wanna read it, you wouldn't be, but that's okay.
I'm going to work on stuff before I go to bed.
Good night, and don't let the bed-chinchillas bite.