This is real, this is me, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be

Kudos to you if you recognized that lyric. It's a relic of a reference... a decrepit piece of modern popculture.
It's Camp Rock...
Not generally a well remembered movie...

So lately, I've been doing LOTS of thinking.
Thinking about people...
Thinking about the 'identity crisis' that people face...
Thinking about confidence...

and the other day, I put away my laundry--a feat in and of itself--I realized something about this.

as I hung my last shirt on the rack and looked over to admire my work, I noticed something...

 

I was looking at a wall of t-shirts.
They were all different colors and all had different designs, pictures, and motifs that I'd graciously bestowed upon them. (this is obviously NOT from my closet)
now most people in my area who are my age and of the female persuasion don't quite have a closet like that. They normally have an assortment of fun different shirts that are all very stylish and classy.
As for me: I have my own class.

I wear a t-shirt and jeans pretty much every day, all of my t-shirts are different, and most of them have a touch of my creativity embellishing them to greatness. I wear my hair down and I usually wear tennis shoes.
hum.
That's interesting, eh?
Not quite your typical chick. Everyone's jealous, it's just not quite trending yet.
And it's not like I don't have that frilly nonsense, I just choose not to wear it.
This being said, to all of you out there who wear or enjoy that fru-fru, go right on, I'm not 'hating on' it at all, I'm just saying it's not me. Then again, from my stats it really doesn't look like anyone will ever read this at all anyway, so who cares? #iwantyoutochangeintosomethingmorefemininebeforelunch... but only one or two people would even get that...

My point here is,
Be yourself.
"imitation is suicide"
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

The world has enough of those stupid people who all try to fit in and be the same, the greats are always the people who stand out:
Galileo
Thoreau (I mean the kid dropped out of Harvard and moved to a shack by a pond...)
Einstein
Poe
Dickinson
Yours truly... (well obviously...)

All of these people have taken the risk to stand for something else; they were unconventional. They didn't follow the norm.

So my point here is that you've got to be yourself, not so much stand out, because sometimes, you do fit with the crowd, but always know why you believe in what you're supporting. Don't be hasty.

#jealouswoman
and none of you will ever get that either.

Night, all.
Mmhmm.

Life with Siblings... Thanks, Mom.

This pretty much sums up the way I was raised...

Isn't it amazing what these two photos can do for you and your depiction of me as a person?

I've always (well...  for the past few years...) considered myself amazingly lucky to have the family that I do.  I think about it often, but because of recent events-- now more than ever.  I love my family soooo much.  We're all perfect for each other and I absolutely adore my siblings.
I grew up in (am still growing up in) a primarily happy house in which anything other than benevolent intentions did (/does) not fly.
It still blows my mind as to how my mom managed to do that so perfectly.

In all my years of observations, I've concluded that siblings typically magnify each other in public, which to an effect means that siblings bring out the best and the worst in each other.  ESPECIALLY IN PUBLIC.

Some of my siblings make me seem much smarter or much more sarcastic, others make me seem like a total stickler and a boring dweeb.  It all depends on who we're with.

Today, I fed some llamas with my youngest sister (as per the norm) and I really truly love her.  She's adorable in every way--even when she's not.

'Those Who've Seen Us Know that not a Thing Could Come Between Us"
~Irving Berlin

My sisters are THE GREATEST.  
'nuff said.

I come from probably the best family ever.  We're witty, hilarious, brilliant, artistic, musical, and Extremely humble.  Especially me.
[Right now I'm pretty much going crazy (as you can probably tell by the way that this is just weird and doesn't make much sense/is plausibly not at all interesting) because I've temporarily (in a sense) lost my brothers!  I have no one to stay up late and talk things through with...  which is why  this post is so meandering in content--I can't talk through it!]

All things considered this week, I've actually questioned some of my resolves.  My mom has been so stupendous that I want to be as cool as her too.  I'm considering abandoning a college career in music composition and going for sociology instead.  The field itself fascinates me and I think it would be even more applicable to life... after all, it's sort of all about life...

Ya, that's pretty much it.
I love my family. we're a great bunch.

Wanna know some of what makes us so fantastic?


Humor.

That's it for ya, folks.
For example, there was once an entire family road trip over which my two brothers decided to call me 'meg' not because it's my name, but because they had come up with some delusional idea to make it all interesting through making the trip into a documentary. They based in on a documentary I'd recently seen about wolves. I was the omega of the pack apparently, so that's what they called me. No hard feelings, really, I mean they did it to me because I'm good at reacting just right, and actually, I quite liked the attention of it...

ya, I could really talk about this forever, but I'd use up all of your precious time... and all of the commas known to man.

mmhmm.

HEROINE!

No, my dear readers, I've not been giving myself nasty injections and doing what I shouldn't have, I can assure you, I'm doing perfectly fine.
That's 'Heroin' and that's BAD.

So recently, I've been quite busy, as anyone who's been anxiously reading and waiting for any new posts could tell you (except that they don't actually exist... bummer...)

But I've done quite a lot that needs to be properly documented.
Like this lovely legend of my heroic awesomeness:

The Day I Saved my Entire Family from a Fiery Death:
Once upon a time, there existed such nasty things as online calculus classes. Children, that's what we call torture. Anyway, there was once a happier time in which I, being a very ambitious adolescent, decided that because of school scheduling difficulties, would take this route of self-education. That is what we call a mistake.
*clears throat as if to begin telling some awe-inspiring story* oh wait... that's exactly what I am doing... huh.

So! I was using this very same computer at which I sit now, finding derivatives and anti derivatives of equations (very fun stuff) and lo and behold, my dog walked in, pushing open the door. The room immediately filled with a most befouling stench. Somewhat troubled by the thought of my own home smelling so, I walked out into the hallway and into the kitchen, following a good deal of smoke. 
Just a side note here, smoke is almost always a bad sign... in your house anyway, I mean campfires emit smoke and those are cool, but that's completely different....
So I follow the smoke and find that it's billowing out of the oven.
(Oh ya, and by the way, at this point, I was in a spanish imersion block... so I wasn't really supposed to speak any english... to anyone... at all...)
I threw open the oven and found my dear mother's pumpkin seeds (probably my favorite snack item ever) on fire. In that moment, I decided to abandon the use of spanish temporarily and I ran to my parents. I informed my mother of the fire and she was a little bit panicked... as people should rightly be at this point.
My parents rushed in and I'd like to say that I smartly doused the flames with baking soda myself, but I can't(as that would be lying, and we all know where liars go--into politics [just kidding, please nobody come and egg my house.])
My ingenious father grabbed the baking soda and poured it over the flaming seeds of fiery wrath and my frazzled mother took the pan outside.

So there's the story, I single handedly (more or less) saved potentially my entire house--maybe neighborhood--possibly even city from the dangers of fire. You can just call me smokey the bear, fireman sam, girl of your dreams, etc... the list goes on and on.

I'm sure that was probably the most exciting read of the day for you, possibly even the whole month if you're not all that literate...

You're welcome.
____________ (signature in invisible ink)

My Muse

I'm struggling with coming up with things to talk about.  It's a serious problem for me because...  well I'm a talker.

Let's make a list of my life events this past month or so:
-School
-Family (my brother got engaged!)
-llama herding
-utter and complete boredom
-MUSIC
-cowboy
-more boredom
-orchestra

So really not that much.  You know why?  It's because SCHOOL.  Yup.  it's dumb that way.  School makes all my friends super busy with homework so even though I'm not busy, I can't ever do anything with them.  It drives me nuts.  I'm a very extroverted person.  I NEED PEOPLE.

So because I have no one to talk to, I have nothing to talk about!  My brother who just left was great because we'd just sit up at nights and talk about the coolest stuff and I loved it!  now it's just me and two little sisters.  I love them, but I hate it.

Now you've finally had me rant to you.  How do you like it?  Do you hate me yet?  I'm going to assume you said no.  Thanks for lying to me.

So!  What do you wanna hear about?  Llama Herding?

ok then!

Llama Herding it is!

Let it be known!  I'm a llama sitter.
I feed llamas and cats (and I used to feed peacocks) and they all love me because of my sparkling, sunshine-y personality.  You can tell just by looking at this guy's face that he absolutely adores me.  You've never seen such a look of longing as the one this sad llama currently sports, I know.

Would you like to hear a TOTALLY TRUE story about these fantastic llamas?  I knew you would!

here goes it:
Once upon the childhood of a certain teenager, there existed such things as torturous and dreaded piano lessons.  Said young child was practicing piano, really diggin' into the old ivories when she suddenly heard a car horn from behind her.
She spun around to see for herself the grandeurous calamity that had caused the poor driver to sound the alarm.  To her surprise, a llama was coming straight at her, crossing the road in front of a car.  Heroically, the small child answered the call to action and corralled the disoriented camelid back through his swinging, open gate, all by herself.  Then, simply because she was bored of the awe-inspiring task, the fantastic child fetched her older brother and had him retrieve the other two with his friends.

The truth of the matter:
The llama really did cross the street, just like I told you, but all the child did was laugh, gasp for air, scream for her brother, and 'assisted' as he and his much-burlier-than-I-am friends scared the creatures back into their pen.  They're really quite skittish animals.  It's not that hard.  The peacocks also got loose several times, but I was always too small to help catch them.

I'm sure you loved the story.
You're so very welcome,
_________________#yourfavorite

The Silver Lining

A few days ago, I had a day that would not be considered by most standards to have been all that great.
To set the stage:
It was (and still is) the first week of school.  I have an excellent schedule and was at school when...
I realized that I was practically Starving to death!
I was SOOOOO hungry, and it was only 2nd period!
I reached for my backpack, resolving to eat a part of my lunch early, which is what I usually do, when, to my utter disappointment, it was brought to my attention that I'd foregone my lunch preparations.  Simply put: it wasn't there.
Devastated, I set out upon the rest of my day.  Still, life went on, I had a spectacular day, and all was (more or less) well.
By the time lunch rolled around, though I'd resigned myself to a day of hunger, I couldn't help but to look around at everyone else's lunches.  I had nothing better to do, they were all busy eating, I wasn't.  I looked at my 'self's' lunch, and I realized that I'd forgotten another crucial detail on the day in question.
It was my very best friend's birthday!
Sheepishly, I apologized.
She was very sympathetic and kind.  I felt like a lethargic fool.
Still, the day wore on.
It got better and better, as my days usually do, though I still couldn't forgive myself for all of my forgetfulness in the morning...  neither could my poor tummy.  It was angry at me, but I ignored it.
When I got home, I made a lovely cake and brownies.  I bought a balloon and a unicorn (yup, a real-life unicorn!) and I brought them over.
Turns out she wasn't home...  ah dang.
So I went home (but obviously left all of the stuff with her marvelous parents)...
A few hours later, I decided to go to a large-scale pool party/luau.  Once I found the elusive party, it quickly rose to my attention that I did not know anyone there.  Not well anyway.  I determined that I would have to either socialize with relative strangers or die.  I did not choose the latter (*cough cough* obviously! *cough cough*).
After a good while of doing absolutely nothing (but of course bonding with random people) we actually got to go into the pool...
Only 15 minutes in, we began to see lightning.  25 minutes in, we were told to get out.  I then stood in the middle of the parking lot, all by myself, in a horrendous, torrential down-pour for nearly half an hour.  My parents had elected it to be safer and more convenient for them to drive me there instead of myself...  The issue was that there was roadwork or something and they had to take a detour...  and they went to the wrong parking lot because it's hard to understand people over the roaring resonance of the rain.

yes.  Doesn't that sound like a Fabulous day to you?

Really though, it was!
When you shift your perspective, you can see an entirely different world.
TRUE STORY!

You're so very welcome,

_____________________

8 Days Old and Still Living With my Parents #embarrassing

Embarrassing moments...

We all have them.

I've recently had some pretty funny ones that I really just feel like putting on the internet...

no really, that's the plan.

Embarrassment...
Just a little while ago, I had THE FUNNIEST EXPERIENCE OF MY ENTIRE LIFE...  At the expense of others, of course.

Imagine, if you will, a gorgeous summer day.  The sun shining, the sky beautiful, and warm with a nice breeze.
I was riding my bike, parallel to a somewhat busier road.  Minding my own business and in deep thought, I was awakened from my apparent stupor by a flirtatious 'Hey!'.  I turned my head to see what on earth was going on as well as to see who was talking to whom.  I realized that a teenaged boy, in a car full of his (presumably) friends (whom he was driving) was waving at me with half of his body outside of his car.  I responded politely with a bewildered 'Hey' back.  He (I'm pretty sure) was still formulating his next sentence when he accidentally swerved and drove halfway over the median before getting stuck.
I could not keep myself from laughing ferociously.  It was probably the funniest thing I've ever seen.  His friends in the back were all laughing too...  
Shocked--and (more than) slightly embarrassed, the poor boy said, 'You didn't see that, did you?'
all I could do (because I was laughing so dang hard) was nod my head as if to say yes as I peddled away.
I can only imagine that it was a very embarrassing moment for this young man (and I wish him the best of luck in explaining this latest faux paux to his parents, the cops, and the insurance agency), but that's just what you get for not staying inside of your car when driving it...  It was quite the pickle.

Speaking of Pickles...
Last night was another funny and embarrassing moment...  this time for myself.

as background: my wonderful family has a fantastic sense of humor and we all tease each other to some extent because we love each other.

So anyway, my littlest sister is adorable and I like to call her 'Pickle', a name of which she approves.  Last night, as I walked past her in the hall that connects our bedrooms, I treated her to a wet willie.  After squealing, she tried to get me back.  I didn't allow it (that's what little siblings do, ok?  They're supposed to be teased and they can't do too much about it.).  I went back into my room and locked the door.  About 10 minutes later, when I emerged, she was waiting around the corner and surprised me with an attempt at a tickle.  I laughed and she seized the moment to pin me to the ground.
With her plan working like a well oiled machine, me being pinned beneath her to the floor and I laughing hysterically, she commenced work on her real  object in the operation: repaying my wet willie.
So there we were, in the middle of the entryway, myself dying of laughter and my sister administrating rapid-fire wet willies as if there were no tomorrow when my brother and his dear friend walked in the door.  They couldn't do anything but join into my laughter at the bizarre sight.  It was pretty great.  
For the rest of the night we were laughing and marveling at how someone half my size had tackled me to the floor to wet my ears with saliva (delicious, eh?) as I watched Megamind (hence the title)...
And that's pretty much the end of the story.

So now that I've got that off my chest,
Sayonara, mis amigos!
______________
(signed, your worst nightmare)

Lifetime Achievements

You know how there are just some things that you can never let yourself forget?  Those things you do that you're so proud of that you have to hang it on the wall or fridge as soon as you get home?  Ya, those.  Well, I have a veritable rainbow of those...
Lifetime Achievements...
My lifetime achievements are very scattered in nature, including (as of my childhood) storytelling awards, science fair placements, drawing contest awards...  and not much else, actually...  but I do have a couple more to add to the list, now that I'm all through with Girls' Camp... (actually, it was a week or two ago... but that's ok.)
I WASHED MY HAIR IN A RIVER!!!
so this may come as a shock to some of you, but at Girls' Camp this year, we went-pause for effect-camping.  yup.  
Now normally when I go camping, I just kind of 'rough it' for the whole trip... which really only means that i don't shower...  because there aren't any showers to partake of... but over the course of the week--actually on the first day--some of the girls and leaders announced that they were heading down to the 'river' to wash their hair.  At first, my only reaction was slight amusement that they would think that to be a good idea, but as they walked away, I had an amazing epiphany:
This was the chance of a lifetime!  It was a bragging right.  I had to partake in the ritual.
So without further ado, I left my comfy camping chair by the fire and ran after my fellow adventurers.  When I came upon a suitable location, I knelt down (IN A TREE!) and dunked my head into the water.
IT WAS FRIGID.
My fingers and scalp quickly became numb as I lathered the shampoo and conditioner through my frozen, golden blond mop.
After completing the siberian-esque task, I beamingly walked back to camp and with soaking wet... everything... informed them of my lifetime achievement.  They were obviously jealous.

As I ponder this event, I can't help but wonder...  What is it that makes these experiences so memorable and extraordinary?  Is it the victorious conquering?  Is it the recognition?  Is it the distinctive barrier created between yourself and the run-of-the-mill American?  Are you even American?

I think it must be a combination that depends on how conceded one is.  A more weak person might be proud of their victory, a lonely person might relish the recognition, a conceded person might fancy the the distinction.
I decided that for my amazing self(and by that I mean __________, not self), it was clearly the latter.  There's just something about being more than human.

and on that bombshell, it's time to end.
You're so very welcome for this great enlightenment,
__________

Grumpy Trigger

I don't know about you, but sometimes I get grumpy.  True story, and I'll admit to it.  This usually occurs when I have no one to talk to and I have some dreary, pathetic task placed before me...
Today, for example, I was grumpy.  I got up in the morning with a huge headache and that was enough to do the trick, so I became grumpy.  It was a conscious decision, however quietly it may have been made.
For some reason, whenever I get grumpy, I simply must do something counter-intuitively productive...  That doesn't really make sense, but I mean that I do something that would be productive, except I have much more important things to do.  Usually these 'something productive' things involve hobbies.
So this morning, when I slumped out of bed at around 10:30 with a pounding migraine, I decided to do something.
Grumpy Trigger
I walked down the hallway, turned right, turned right again, walked down the stairs, turned left, walked down another hallway, and turned right.  I entered the 'craft room'.  This room holds many memories for me, reaching all the way back to the year my family moved into our house when I was 5.  I've always had some sort of crazy project going on down there.
As I entered this time, I had a plan forming in my head, a very loose plan mind you as it only had to do with the colors I would like to use...  I walked over to the wall of cabinets and began pulling out and examining fabric.  
All of it came from my grandmother, who was a seamstress.  It's all very old and some of it certainly looks that way.
After a few moments of scrutiny, searching for perfection, I tossed a few denim scraps from  old jeans onto the table.  I just started throwing them together in a jigsaw type manner, finding whatever would fit together neatly.  Without a thought in my head as to what the heck I was going to make with this, I sewed and sewed.  Eventually my sisters came into the room:
_________, What are you making?
I don't know.  Go away.

They just kept pestering me, berating me over and over with questions as to what on this sweet smelling earth I was constructing.  Having no idea myself and being grouchy-as well as in 'the zone', I reacted with blunt rudeness.  I'm sorry for that, by the way, my dears Pickle and Maydie.

So after a few hours of hard concentration, I came out satisfied with a sturdy backpack, which is all I've really made in the past forever, aside from various and peculiar other things...

It was rather stress relieving though.  You should try it some time...  It just takes like an entire day...  and there you have it, something new and... hopefully... useful.

These are the times I wonder though...

What do Normal People do When They're Grumpy?

I honestly have no idea.  In all of my conceded brilliance, I just cannot figure it out.  Obviously, as we have all been told time and time again, there is no real Normal person, but what does the average Joe do to cope with his own frustrations?  Read?  Eat?  Couch potat-ify?  Exercise? Those all seem rather dull.

As I sit here, in my comfy roll-y chair, reflecting on the concept of normal-ness, I can't help but think of my dreams over the past few nights.  To sum it all up quickly, The one dream was all about convincing 'self's' dad that he needed to buy more bananas and the other was all about 'the Lion King'...  I have a very abnormal subconscious, or so I've been repeatedly told...  So now I have a question for you, my lovely reader:

In what ways do you consider yourself to be normal/abnormal?  

You don't have to actually respond if you don't wish to, but ponder that for a moment.

...

now that you've had your moment, in what ways are you Really normal/abnormal?  Are you being a fat old Dursley and fancying yourself to be some level of normal that you are not?  

just something to think about...

Grumpy and Bored,

____________

You've got a friend in me

Somehow, one post, one day, once a week is just not satisfying.
So instead I've elected to do two posts in one day, once a week-ish...
also, I've decided that I should make a very basic
characer list for you:
__________ -typically means insert my (as in the author) name here.
self-my very best friend who has become a part of me.
cowboy/bf^2-a friend of mine...  actually my best friend squared...  sups tots adorbs yo.
math buddy-a fabulous friend I met in math this past school year, she's also great friends with cowboy.
thief-a friend of mine who is very good friends with self...  sometimes drives everyone crazy, but he knows we all love him.
So as you may have guessed, I was planning on talking about
FRIENDS [cue the music]
Everyone's gotta have 'em, no one can survive without 'em.

(First off, before I get into too much trouble, my dear friends, if you were not on that basic character list, please do not be offended!  These are simply the people that will probably come up most, because I deal with them the most.  I have many people I could've put on the list, but the names are incredibly hard to come up with [as you can tell by my level of creativity there...] and even harder to keep track of.  I love you all just as much though, I promise.)

As someone very famous{William Butler Yeats} once said:
"there are no strangers here; only friends you haven't met"
(obviously, mr. Yeats had never heard of the so-called 'stranger danger', but the message is still valuable)

Over the past few months I've given this topic quite a bit of thought.  Some of my dearest friends feel like they have none at all, and they couldn't be more wrong.  

A considerably more famous{C.S. Lewis}(at least to the younger generation and christian society) man once said:

“It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which,if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship... All day long we are, in some degree helping each other to one or the other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilites, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all of our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - These are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors.” 

I believe what this beloved author stated to be so very true.  These people we all interact with are so spectacular, so amazing, and yet some still choose to cast them aside as naught but a nuisance.  I find it an incredulous folly to let anyone be pushed aside.  If people only took the time to know them, they might find a treasure, but instead, they discard them as trash.  
Not cool.
so on that very different note, 
adios!
sayonara!
and You're so very welcome,
___________________

Summer! Peachy as Ever...

This last week was a veritable rainbow of events and activities...
My family celebrated my father's birthday, one brother coming home after a very LONG time away, another brother leaving...  and not to mention all of the spontaneous other occurrences that have taken place throughout the week.
It has also hovered at around 100*F all week...  ya, not so much fun there...
Throughout the week, however, there has been one common theme...
SLOW MORNINGS...
For the past few years, my inner clock has been beaten and abused.  It no longer has any influence on the time I wake up at all...
I typically just sleep until something wakes me up...
(now don't get me wrong, I'm a very light sleeper and will wake up to just about everything, but unless it's something worthwhile, I just return myself to a colorful dreamland[see my other post from last month, A dream is a wish your heart makes...].)
Yesterday morning, for example,
I woke up to my mother's velvety voice at about 9 am.  I filled the car up with folding chairs and returned them to my dear grandmother's house.  As I returned home, I stifled a yawn.  When I reached my bedroom, I immediately went back to bed until my mother again woke me...  this time at 1:30 pm...  
"_______, are you really still asleep?"
"maybe..."
"you need to get up and start calculus."
"okay..."
and then I got out of bed to start working on my online calculus class.  bleh.

Most mornings start out in a similar way, but usually around 11:30.  The only reason I got out of bed today was one delightful thought...
BREAKFAST.  yum.
From the earliest summer memories I have, smoothies and milkshakes have kind of been the real summer breakfast.  We never really had them every day, but they were an occasional breakfast treat.  I have always been...  how can I say this nicely... HORRIBLE at making them.  I simply have no talent for making good tasting beverages with a blender. My concoctions are typically too sour and overall disgusting, but last week I decided to change that...
so I cheated.  I went online and searched for a delicious strawberry smoothie recipe.  
After about a minute, I found one that looked promising...  So I made it.
It was heaven-sent.  Not exactly what I'd expected though... by the name 'Delicious Strawberry Smoothie' I had expected three things:
1. that it would be delectable.
2. that it would be strawberry flavored.
3. that it would be a smoothie.
as it turned out, it was delectable, it was strawberry-BANANA flavored, and it was in fact a milk shake.  
But that doesn't change the perfection level of it.
so now that your mouth is watering and you're entirely too jealous of my yummy drink(which I am currently sipping through a nice fat straw), I'll share this recipe with you.

ingredients:
1 cup strawberries (I've decided frozen are best for this)
1 cup nectar of the gods (more commonly known as 2% milk, but any percentage will work)
1 banana (I prefer frozen here as well)
1/4 cup sugar (the sweet kind)

directions:
blend.

and now that I've shared this recipe with you, hopefully you too can find adequate reason to get yourself out of bed.

You're so very welcome,
___________________

A dream is a wish your heart makes...

Today, I was all in a tizzy in my extreme excitement for this, my new blog.  I buzzingly texted my self(my best friend) and let her know how great it was...  and then she asked me the queerest question...
it went kind of like this...

me: "GUESS WHAT!?!"
her: "you flew to the moon?"
me: "no, silly!  I started a BLOG!!!"
her: "wow"
me: "ya, it's pretty exciting!  it's going to be grand!"
her: "what's it about?"--(that's the queer question I was referring to above...)
me: "...hmm...  I don't actually know... I have no idea."
her: "that's pretty great :)"
me: "yes, yes it is!  Smiley face!"

and so I realized...  this blog is going to be as roamingly unconnected as... well...  as my dreams.

so now to introduce you to the strangest part of my life...  (where else would we start, I mean seriously!?!)

MY DREAMS
I'm fairly well known among my friends as a very bizarre dreamer...
Usually, my nightly fantasies involve many colors and animals...  sometimes many-colored animals...
for example...

as a much younger individual, I had the same repeated dream for many nights in a row...

as the dream opens, I 'wake up'.  I don't physically wake up, that's just how my dream starts.    Then, I sit up, get out of bed, and stretch a little bit, getting myself nice and comfortable-an everyday occurrence...  next, I kneel down next to my low-to-the-ground bed and bend down to get something out from under it.
with my arms fully extended, I reach for whatever I can get my arms around and pull it all out...
I am not at all surprised that I have just scooped about a hundred various neon-colored hamsters out from under my bed.  I stand up with my arms in a big hoop-like shape, trying to carry them all and head down the hall to my brother's bed room.  I knock with my knee.
"'Clark', open up."
My brother opens his door.
"Are any of these your hamsters?"
"no," 'Clark' responds, "mine are brown."
"oh, ok"
He closes the door, I walk the iridescent rodents back to my room, and shove them all (gently) back under the bed.  Then I go back to sleep.

that's a classic example of one of my dreams.  There were circumstances leading up to this-four family pet hamsters that kept escaping...  but that's not the point.  The peculiarity of my dreams is.  They're generally pretty heavily influenced by my daily dessert of a small bowl of ice cream--sweet ambrosia from above.

So, for today's moral of the story:
sugar before bed always helps a child's imagination.

You're so very welcome,
Signed, (not you)

good morning, sunshine!

Hello!

I have recently been made aware of a whole new venue of artistic expression...
BLOGGING!!!
(I obviously always knew that it existed, but for quite some time I was convinced that only middle-aged people with far too many cats to be healthy had them...  but since then my mind has been changed.  Many of my friends and family have begun hosting rather intriguing blogs...)

(mostly unrelated mini backstory:)For the past eternity, I've really wanted someone to just steal my journal and read it until their eyes fall out...  just so that someone would read it and understand all of the inside jokes that journal and I have!  Now I have a better solution: this blog.
(side-note: please do not come to steal my journal... even though I just said I wanted someone to... at least, not without me knowing...)

I know that it probably doesn't sound very appealing to you to read this for my own narcissistic purposes, but...  I don't actually know... why are you reading this...?

ahem.
INTRODUCTION:
hmm...  lets see...  what would be some useful information to put here...?
ok, my likes:
I really love...
Ice cream
Friends
Family
Art
Sewing
Crafts
Jokes
the Soothing sound of my own voice
Word games-particularly Boggle
Board games
Card games
Cooking
Bike rides
Long naps
Staying up late
the A-team (tv show)
Star Trek
...(the list of tv shows is QUITE EXTENSIVE...)
and most of all-MUSIC!

also...

I love to ask people randomly based questions just to see how they react.  For example: I would ask something like... "What is the secret agent name of your left pinky toe?" and hopefully get a response like... "(surprised laughing) I don't know, I've never really considered that... maybe agent ... Stinky...?"  (subject offers a testing-the-waters type of curious smile, seeking acceptence)
and I would respond with something like...  "yes, yes, that's almost as good as mine: agent...(insert some really cool and witty name for a secret agent toe)..." (with a smug grin on my face, only going farther to prove that my toe has a much cooler name than theirs...)
and the conversation kicks off just like that.

and I love to make people smile!

... and I really love mis-using elipses...

That's pretty much all of the applicable knowledge I can possibly give you on the vastly astounding subject of myself.

You're so very welcome,
signed, (Not you)