Microwaveable Jewelry

I hope most of you know that I do stained glass. If you don't you can't properly call me a friend. I do stained glass, but I also do fused glass (where you put glass in designs in a giant-cylinder-oven-thing to roast at 1500 degrees). The kiln (the giant-cylinder-oven-thing) I have is about 2 feet in diameter, but recently, I just got a tiny, microwave kiln. You heat up the kiln not through electricity or gas, but with the microwave, hence the name. Here's the process: first, you make a design, approximately fifteen to twenty minutes. Then, you stick it in the microwave kiln and microwave it for three minutes. Upon taking it out, you have to let it sit for about half an hour, to let the glass cool, while it is bright hot orange. Then, you can take it out, but have to leave the kiln to sit for another half hour. This process of one and a half hours is much more convenient than an eight hour excursion. Then, voila!!! You have whatever you made, a necklace, earrings, whatever fit inside there. Hah, who would've known, jewelry baked in a microwave!

Who would've know that garfield and Jon were such pranksters...

     Hi, this is my first post, and... uh... yeah. 

     So here I go, everybody knows that Halloween is coming up, so I thought I would just get us all into the "Halloween mood" with a few funny cartoons.  After all, there's nothing wrong with a few jokes, right?  (I hope you find these funny... :P) 

Now, you tell me, WERE THOSE FUNNY OR WHAT!  (I really hope you could see them... or did I paste them in wrong...)

Living Life Lively

      When someone asks you definition of life, how would one answer?Would one explode in a full scientific spiel?Noun:1.The condition that distinguishes animals and plants from inorganic matter, including the capacity for growth, reproduction, functional... Or would you prefer something softer such as: The time one spends on planet earth as an active organism. Still, you could single yourself in on religion and try: the time on land before God takes you home. How ever you define life, has  much to do with how you live life... or so I think. The scientific definer would in my eyes appear as an intelligent human with knowledge of the world, possible a doctor or scientist who cares about living with a surplus, or maybe one who simply reaps knowledge and does not wish for money or fame. The middlest choice might as well be a doctor or researcher, just it might not seem as likely... do you see know how much one can assume and interpret from an indivduals definition of live... imagine what one could grasp from definition of love. It all has to do with attentivenes... Don't YOU think?

Bobby the blobby.. A story about a guy that you might form unnecissary conclusions about, when they are always true.

    There once was a boy named Bob. Now, as soon as you read that sentence, you most likely pictured Bob as an extremely boring and normal guy. I am very sorry to disappoint you, but he is not, definitely NOT an ordinary boy. In fact, he is so out of the ordinary, that he didn't even deserve that first sentence.
     You might ask why Bob was named Bob, after all, he is a complex guy, and the simplest name does not quite fit him. Well, for one thing, Bob was the first name that popped into my mind, and for another, it would be hard for me to remember any other name.
     Before I start the story of Bob the insane, I am going to put myself in your position. Okay, if I was a reader reading this post, I would be asking myself what makes this "Bob" so extraordinary. I am the author, so it it probably my job to answer that question right away. Any sane author would so that. However, much like Bob, I am insane. So there is my excuse--I wont tell you what makes Bob so different, you'll have to figure it out yourself.   But I guess it is my job to answer that buzzing question. To rid yourselves from the pain, the annoyance, the angry bee in your mind. Well, here goes. You are now thinking (especially alexandra) that bob is some sort of mutant. Just like the numerous literature pieces that have been focused on mutated children. (X-men, Obernewtyn, ...)
     Sorry to tell you, but you are wrong, or if you want, you are right. Bob is merely a figment of your imagination. You could picture him as a blob. A slushy, deformed piece of nothing that has the power to evade all laws of physics and of life. He can float in mid air, he can live forever, he can not have any body, but still be alive. Bob is someone for you to play around with. He can be anybody you choose, and does not even have to be a person. He can be a nothing, a death, a space. Anything.................
       Feel free to comment about your bob the blob. How possibly awesome can you make him, or how utterly defying can he be?
       Dun, dun , dun, dunnnn..............

School

It has come to my attention that no one has posted in awhile. I'm guessing it's since school started (aren't I so smart?). And the tons of homework. I mean, we go to school for 6 hrs and 40 min. Then we come home and have at least 2 more hrs of schoolwork. Is it fair? No. Just like boy-girl sitting. And it's definitely not fun.

People who take geometry (or latin, I guess, but you were the ones who decided to choose it) have it the worst. And I'm sure next year you will have even more homework when you take geometry. But is it fair that since we lose 4 days of school we get 20 extra problems each night? I mean, at the rate we're going, a section per night, I'm sure we'll finish the whole book before the school year has even ended. We're already halfway through chapter 2 and it's still september!

Did I just complain about school for two long paragraphs? Sorry about that. I guess I'm talented. But I'm sure everybody agrees about this too...

AAAAAAHHHHHHHH

I lost my geometry textbook during primetime somewhere. I don't even know how. AAAHHHHHHHH

Wedding

We went to this family friend's wedding in Irvine at the Ritz Carlton, and there was an awesome ocean view. And there was expensive valet parking. And an awesome menu. And an awesome cake. Anyway, we stayed overnight (they had really comfy beds) and walked down to the beach, but there were way too many people.

SCHOOL

Either a tiresome dreadfully boring unstimulated environment filled with potatoes and other species or a beautiful joyous communitry creating written pieces and laughing over math problems unpopulated of potatoes and species like so.

Guilty as Charged

       Yes, I know, I'm guilty of not posting in a very long time. That's because I've been busy with my new video game which will only be shown to you when I'm done. And now you will be mad at me again for posting about such a depressing subject, school. Well, we can't avoid it forever. I thought maybe I might help some of you guys by posting my own list of school supplies up here.

five star notebooks (3)
graph paper notebook
binders (2)
pencil pouch (highlighters, sharpener, eraser, pencils)
scientific calculator
lock
lined paper
spiral notebook
clip for water bottle

See you guys soon at school!!!!
Beccajandro the Great Blogger

Love

 Love is a complicated matter, it entwines in problems not related to romance. It helps you see your goals, but it also veils them from view. Love makes you do things; you might not have done, unless you felt love. Love is a strong emotion, far from any other. Love makes us noticed happy things and depressing things. Love is always a helper and an enemy. Love blinds us, but also opens our eyes.  Love can make us sin. Love can also make us realize these things. Love is a mysterious matter. Love is a field of very, very long grass that no one has ever cut. And when we feel love, or love we walk through that field, unsure of direction. Love appears in hatred and in scorn, it shows in anguish and in frustration, love opens its window everywhere. Love makes you feel anger, it makes you feel sad, it makes you walk the field of very, very long grass very, very helpless. But it also pushes you forward. Love truly is a mysterious matter.

I Need to Contribute a Post

     So, since there has been a lack of posts (oh no!), well Lex and Bex have been helping, I thought, darn, I guess I have to htink of something to post so I can say, "I helped." So now I have to think of something to type, I guess I can just write what I am thinking...
     So my dad and Gloria are doing this 40 minute workout thing that I did earlyer today, and I notice that my dad is sweating like buckets of sweat (that is where I get my sweating genes come from) and he breathes quite loudly... Well my train ended... Hmmm, oh yeah! I got from the library Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 1 and part 2, so I can watch them now!!!!! But I can only watch when Gloria is not watching because she hasn't finished the 5, 6, and 7th books. Wait, have you guys seen the Harry Potter 7 movies? Because if not, maybe we can see it together, naybe, or just get it from the library...
     Wow, I am not good at thinking of stuff, oh wait I have something... So last night we went to my dad's friends, son's wedding reception. There Allison and I helped set up, run the refreshments, and clean up. We met the bride and re-met the groom, and the dad of the groom who was my dad's childhood friend. Well, I like I think college or highschool friend... This is the guy who has three sons, the youngest son (also the tallest son) is 6 foot 8 inches, tall... Well I have like nothing else to say...

My Problem: I want everything Awesome to be Real

   Right now I really want to be a mutant pirate from Lorien who happens to go to Hogwarts School or Witchcraft and Wizardry and at the same time I want to be a member of the Jedi order. Am I the only person who over-imagines to awesome stories they read? I hope not. I watched Xmen 2 once, and my fantasies are suddenly littered with the extreme adventurous danger of being a mutant. Out of the blue, I want it to be real, I want it to happen to me. I obviously noticed that I am not physically mutant, but can I be mentally? I invented...no, I discovered... that we Seminar, are the forefathers of the mutant race, the early mutants, the beings who came early in the mutant evolution. That describes why I want to be a mutant pirate, all though it does not explain why I want to be a pirate.
    I saw Pirates of the Caribbean at Summer Pops and was strastruck with the awesome danger and adventure created when being a 1600, 1700's pirate, Awr! Seeing as there is no way to (yet) go back into the past, I decided that seeing as the Vikings (who were technically early pirates) are my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great (etc..) grandparents, I have a drip of ancient pirate blood in my vines.
    Lorien. I have not been able to make this true yet...hmm. For those of you who have read I am Number Four, The Power of Six, and The Rise of Nine, know what Lorien is. A planet far, far away in another galaxy where people are technically mutant they have awesome powers known as Loric powers. In the books 10 were sent to Earth when their planet was attacked by another fellow planet, Mogador.
    Hogwarts. My hope is that the millions of letter addressed to me were actually lost in the mail. AY! Those of you who have read Harry Potter as much as I have, would know that the American school for witches and wizards is actually Salem Witches School... but to make it easier for you who have simply watched the movies or not read the series 49 times through (yes, exactly 49 times) I will still call the Americna school Hogwarts. Since 2nd grade when I started reading the series I have come up with magical reasons for everything to happen the way it does.
   Jedi. Starwars, I am addicted. Who would guess that someone as you know, as me, would actually like Starwars? For those millions of people who haven't seen it and the billion who has, it is soooo good. I drown in its awesomeness. Darth Vaders voice, the Sith, Tatooine, the Death Star, the Jedi, all of it!I want to be brave and fight with a light saber, I want to defeat an enemy. (P.S I have watched Star Trek too, but Star Wars is way better...)

  You must think I am crazy...

The Over-active Imagination of Under-stimulated Students

So far, Rebecca is the only one who has contributed to the changing of our blog name. Good job Bex. Bad job everyone else. Except Alexandra recently submitted four titles, which I ask her to post down below.
So far we have three ideas (plus Lex's):
1. The Over-active Imagination of Under-stimulated Students
2. The Life of soon-to-be Teenage Mutant Ninja Tortoises
3. Mutants in the form of highly intelligent middle schoolers.

please comment your favorites, or your create your own.
Lex please post yours:)

Sanely Insane

MWAHAHAHA...as Rebecca foresaw in the previous post, I am posting, I just have not gotten insane enough to do so yet. You must think, "Would it not be better to be sane while posting versus insane?" I think not. Take for example journalists, to do a job as crazy as that you must be half-witted or very smart just a tad... you know... loco. Any person who can write a fully-fledged essay without boring the reader has to be crazy (since the reader has to be crazy to want to read it.) I...cough, cough... find myself crazy in two senses, well actually 1 1/2. I am crazy as a reader to want to read all these essays and also crazy as a writer to be able to write these essays or books or articles or blah blah blah. You must doubt my insanity (hahaha... caught you there, shouldn't you be doubting my sanity, but no I am insane so you can't (???) you must be doubting why I am not in a mental institute for crazy (yet hopefully literate) people) since I have not explained why I am crazy in only 1 1/2 senses... So be it... I will bring myself to explain. The bare truth is.... (DRUMROLL) I do not know if people enjoy my writing so I can't claim that they do by saying I am good at writing, thus I give myself merely 1/2 the value of being literary gifted as a writer.

Please comment below....

A Story That I Felt Compelled To Tell

         I have felt compelled to tell the story of a person. Of course, this story may or may not be offensive, so I legally needed to change her name to avoid lawsuits. This is the story of Suzzana. Specifically, Stupid Suzzana who Seriously Sucks at Soccer.

         Now, this girl, Suzzana, decided to try out for Impact two years ago. She was under the impression that she was good at soccer. She was wrong. For example, she thought that anytime you kicked the ball in the air it was called punting. She toe-poked, she couldn't control the ball, and she just had no clue about anything called tactics. In fact, she would have probably hurt rather than helped any team she played on. Once she asked what are team name should be. Everyone said, duhh its Impact. She was like, 'what, we don't get to choose are own team names? Last year my team was called the Lightning (that is once again a false name just as a precaution.) We had to explain that when you play for a serious competitive club you have to take there name.

         Anyway, you might be wondering why I'm telling you this. The truth of the matter is, I played this girls' camp in dodgeball this very day. (she wasn't too good at that either.) She was in tennis camp, and let me tell you, she wasn't too great at that. I took extreme pleasure in pegging her hard with the ball, and when she threw her ball across in frustration, I caught it. She had no idea who I was, but the memory of her had scarred me. Someone said her name, and I recognized her. And I remembered it all.

          So, if you are still clueless about the message here, let me tell you. The moral of the story is, If you stink at sports, don't pretend your good. Know where the bar is.


P.S. Why isn't anyone else posting??? Except for the awesome Alexandra the Great???

So Much to Say... Well, Acctually, Not much at All...

1. I have found that I am a biggish influence to my cousins, mostly the younger ones... So the two youngest are Evelyn (8) and Carla (5). So anywhay, the came up with the idea that they wanted to cut their hair so it was like mine, and they persisted and got their mom, and my aunt (Aunty Anna) to cut their hair.
2. I have also found that all of them like to get piggyback rides from me whenever they can, this is mostly Evelyn... Soo, durring the time we spent there, my back and, now that I think of it, hands (hand holding) were normally being held, or jumped on...
3. I have grown a lot since the last time we visited, because, now I am a bit taller than my aunt...(and Oma, or Grandmother, Oma is German for grandma, and she requested that we call her that, and my cousins call her Lao-lao, Chinese for grandma...) (on another note, Opa is German for grandpa, but we call our grandfather grandpa... Yeh-yeh is what they call him, which is Chinese for grandpa).
4. I have put hena in my hair, so it is tinted orangish, reddish, in the light (I love it).
5. I AM BACK FROM CANADA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Brain Association Game

This is a brain association game. Have a piece of paper ready when you start. This is how it works. Read the word on the screen and write down the first thing that pops into your head when you see it. Then post it as a comment. You can do an explanation if you want. I will post mine in a couple days.

1. apples
2. kitchen
3. cat
4. water
5. soccer
6. legos
7. seminar
8. seagulls
9. abnormal
10. crazy

(Bonus: 11. Alexandra)

Have fun
Beccajandro

Tidal Waves Kill hundreds of people in La Jolla

Tidal Waves Kill hundreds of people in La Jolla

At the Wind'n'sea beach in La Jolla Hermosa, on August 11th 2:44 PM,  huge waves terrified and murdered several individuals enjoying their stay at the sunny, white-sanded beach. Among these unlucky (some of which managed to escape) persons, were our own two reporters: Grace Dessert and Alexandra Backlund. They were enjoying a calm stay in the warm waters and under the blue skies when terror struck the beach. Caught in an under pull and rip current they barely go out of the water when the 17 ft. waves haunted the previously-glorious day. The tidal waves struck five at a time and after hours in between of calmness many people thought they were over... they were not. Grace Dessert and Alexandra Backlund are proud survivors of La Jolla's  personal tsunamis.

Yellow fingers and missing hairbands

          My basketball team (The Waves) had a beach party today and it was awesome. It was my first time going to the beach all summer and we had an inflatable raft that we used as a boogie board and rode the waves in. I got completely soaked and dumped many times (inflatable rafts are not exactly very stable vehicles). I also lost the two hairbands at the bottom of my braids and my hair went kinda crazy as it made the transition for straight to wavy (because I had a relaxer in it didn't totally freak out.) I then managed to lose my second favorite (and second) scrunchy to the powerful ocean. It was tragic but enjoyable.
          When we got out of the water we began tie-dying socks (something very fun which I can describe in more detail later). Anyway, are hands became clammy after we dried them and we couldn't get the latex gloves on. So we decided to just not use the gloves. We ended up getting dye all over our hands and it doesn't come off easily, so my hands are tinted watermelon colors, pink, yellow, and green.
          I came home covered in massive amounts of sand, and when wondering how I got into this state, I figured.... it was just the power of Waves.

Olympic Traitors

          I hope everyone here is cheering for the United States and praying that we get more medals than China (maybe not that last part). Wouldn't you be ashamed to cheer against your own country? Well everyone, I would like to say that my mom is a traitor. A traitor, I know, how shocking. She cheers rigorously for every Jamaican in the track and field races. In one instance, there were no Jamaicans in the qualifier. "Yes," I exclaimed, "You can finally cheer for the Americans." "Oh no," she said, "I must cheer for Trinidad and Tobago. Root for our other Caribbean Island friends." But of course, in everything else where there only the major countries compete (swimming, diving, gymnastics...), she wants the Americans to win. Now, don't you agree that she must be a traitor. You can't cheer against us, then for us. It doesn't work that way. USA all the WAY.

            Also, just in is the fact that so far Jamaica is in second with medals per capita which means that she gets even more bragging rights. You can check out this cool website for more per capita facts.

 http://sports.yahoo.com/blogs/olympics-fourth-place-medal/jamaica-grenada-lead-per-capita-medal-count-152102598--oly.html

Beccajandro

The Life of Soon-To-Be Teenage Mutant Ninja Tortoises

     As you all know, school is approaching quicker than we would have expected it to. For some people, this is a good thing, for others it is not. But there is one thing that has to happen when school starts. This blog will need a new name. It can no longer be: The Summer Fun Normally Abnormal Blog, because, as I have just brought to your attention, summer is ending. We have exactly 3 weeks and 4 days until the first day of school, and that many days to pick the new title of this blog. Here are a couple ideas for a new name:
1. The Normally Abnormal Blog
2. Normally Abnormal Friends
3. The Normally Abnormal School Blog
4. The Normally Abnormal School Year
5. School, Fun, and normally Abnormal Friends
6. School - The tragic but exciting truth
7. Rubber Ducks, Giraffes, Bananas, and Posts
8. The Life of soon-to-be Teenage Mutant Ninja Tortoises
9. The Blog where Pigs Fly, and Red Riding Hood eats the Wolf
10. ........................
     As you can see, there are endless possibilities. Feel free to comment which ones you like, or make up your own ideas. In a little while, I will set up a vote with the top blog names. Good Luck!

Seven Years Old for A Day

     It all started at the San Diego Tennis and Racquet club. My sister, my dad, and I were walking past tennis courts to get to #9, the court that we reserved. This court happened to be right next to the kid's playground. It was not one of those plastic toddler playgrounds, it was more like an old-fashioned, all steel playground. There was a balance beam, a swing set, a slide, and of course, monkey bars. Memories came flooding back to me. Me when I was seven, swinging, running, jumping, playing on a playground much like this one.
     I first tried out the balance beam. Wow, I didn't remember it being so easy. The swings I couldn't exactly try out. There were only the baby swings--the diaper-shaped ones. The slide was surprisingly short, and i didn't really slide down it--I kept on trying to scoot my self down, but I never  really slid. How could something so fun only 5 years ago be so boring and disappointing now? My heart was broken.
     I pouted the whole ten steps to the tennis court, but soon lost interest in finding out if I would become 7 again if I acted like a seven year old. Time to play tennis.
     The ball came whizzing past me as soon as my sister served. Oops, I didn't move. Oh well, maybe I'll move next time. I waddled like a penguin to go get the ball behind me. Bending down like a robot, I picked up the ball, and looked straight ahead through the odd green fence cover. THE PLAYGROUND WAS CALLING ME!
     I could go right after I finished the game. Time to become 12 again! The serve whizzed to me again, and I pulled my arm back. I hit it. Yes, in! Oops, I forgot my sister could hit the ball too. Oh well. I ended up losing the game. No surprise there.
     I dropped my racket, and sprinted to the playground. There was one thing I had not tried yet. THE MONKEY BARS! Dun, Dun, Dun, Dun, .... 
     I climbed up the ladder. I placed my left hand on the first bar. And I swung, and placed my right hand on the fourth bar. I can skip two bars!, I thought to myself.  I let go of the first bar, and reached for the eighth bar in my left hand. I grabbed it. And my hand slid off. Poop, I fell to the ground, and landed in the sand. How will I ever complete my goal? ...... The sand, I can be like a gymnast! I rubbed sand in between my hands, and got up off the ground. I set a goal in my mind. There back, There back. No stopping for more sand, and no two hands on the same bar at one time.
     The sand helped a lot. I went there and back, skipping two bars, swinging. Halfway done. I looked down at my hands. They were covered in dark dirt. My sweat mixed with the sand. I soon realized they hurt. Oh Well. I've go to complete my goal.
     I barely made it to the other side. I looked down at my hands. Ouch! I had a blister in the middle of my left, and it had already popped. Ew. But I could not stop, I was determined.
    The last part of the journey was the hardest. My hands stinging, my blister already popped. I tried to avoid hurting my blister more, and finally, I made it! I was the champion!
    I suddenly felt an unpleasant stinging sensation in my left hand. I looked down! AHHH! I had 2 blisters now! And they both had already popped! I was about to cry, but I decided I didn't like trying to be 7 anymore. It came with consequences. At least I did the monkey bars, I thought to myself.

Why does summer always mean computer games?

When I have free time during the summer, I always find myself on the computer. It's weird, even when I don't have anything particular that I want to use it for. I suspect some of you might be in this same position. I recently discovered some games that I like to play. The best part about these games is that the walkthroughs are all over the internet and youtube (which is on the internet, I know).

1. Covert Front (series)
2. Riddle School (series)
3. Submachine (series)
4. Jack French (series)
5. Nick Bounty (series)
6. Stickman Murder Mysteries (google it)
7. Detective Grimoire (series)
8. High School Detective (series)
9. flophone (series)
10. flopad (series)

If you like these games you should try searching online for Room Escape games. A good ones is the Speed Escape series.

There is also a very good website (www.flonga.com) that if you search room escape games in its search bar you will get very good results. I hope this can keep you entertained for a little while.

Gamemaster (beccajandro)

P.S. If you find any other good games please comment and let me know.

I'm Sorry to Say It

It is sad to have to finally think about school. Not that I haven't been thinking about it, I have, but now, I am FORCED to think about it and accept the fact that it starts in about a month. Also, I don't have any more camps. Just free weeks spent worrying and getting ready for school.
I am so not used to getting up at 6:00, in fact, when I don't have camp I end up sleeping until 8:00. And after school I will have to do homework! Homework! That hasn't been done since last school year, in 6th grade! But this year is 7th grade, and there will be even more! AHHHHH!
And don't even get me started on classes! Ms. Shockly, Ms. Brown, Mr. Martin, and then of course PE, Science, and History (as 7th graders call it) I got stuck with the scariest teachers in the world!
Just thinking about the school year gives me the jitters. But there is always an up side i guess. It is sorta exciting to be big 7th graders, not puny 11 year olds anymore. There will be new people, and new classes, and new textbooks, and even new lockers (I really hope I don't get one in the dark and scary hallway!)
So thats all I really want to say about school, and still, these next few weeks will be spent trying to avoid the topic.

Octopus and Giraffe

     Although the title may sound like a story (fictional) this passage is not.  So, now to adress the first topic, the octopus. Today we went to the beach and Allison and I were in the water. She saw a blob of purple and I had soon identified it to be an octopus, later we saw a ripped-off peice of the octopus, making it clear that t was, an octopus...
     Next the iraffe, this toppic includes other things related to it. So anyway, I am almost done crocheting a demented giraffe, it is white and blue and has big feel and a big head, and... no tail (the pattern didn't have me make one). Well that wraps this post up, oh and, on Sunday, when I leave for Canada, I leave to go to the airport around 10, 10:30...

Canada and Cousins

AHHH!!!! I am leaving to Canada on Sunday! I don't know what time o if I can go to the farmers market, but we are leaving on Sunday! I don't know if I can contact you, but I think I can, Alexandra can. So I will tell you all about my trip, maybe, if my cousins don't take up all of my time, which they normally do, especially Evelyn (Gloria's age) and Carla (umm, younger than Gloria) and Ada (a year younger than me). Wait, thats all of them, oh yeah because they all love me too much. Oh well. Hmm, that was short, well there isn't much to tell so oh well. <^o^>

5 year old soccer

If you don't understand why going to soccer camp with your five year old stepbrother is a, to say the least, frustrating experience, let me break it down for you. Besides the normal five year old drama, this is what they display to there clueless parents, who (shockingly) reward this terrible performance.

Offense: (random toe poking in the goal's general direction)---When questioned,  "What are positions?" they say.

Defense: (very uncontrolled kicking at the ball with strong potential of missing and hitting persons in sensitive areas, tackles from behind, hand balls) -- When questioned, "I was just trying to get the ball," they say

Transition: (slow running not even toward the ball occasionally, much tripping and random kicking) -- When questioned, "Bwaaa... I ..want ....my..mommmmmmyyyyyyy." they cry uncontrollably.

Trash Talk: "That's cheating, goalies can't come off the line.  Cheater Cheater.  Yes, I scored (you were actually offside but that doesn't exist). Whaaaaa. Teacher, he's being mean."

5 year oldness: Cheating, not finishing the whole drill, not listening or following directions, randomly chasing you around, a lot of crying, and a lot of lying, and a heaping amount of yellow cards (which conveniently don't exist.)

Now please, tell me that not all soccer players start off this..well.... abstract.

Loving Memories

                    Best horses ever, the pinto colored Connemara is named Ebony and the Warmblood is the best ever.... PEGASUS!

The Translation Challenge

     Felicidades, usted ha logrado traducir esta frase. No te preocupes, que no será esto la próxima vez fácil.
     Αυτή είναι μια ενδιαφέρουσα γλώσσα - Ελληνικά. Αναρωτιέμαι αν η Katie μπορεί να διαβάσει αυτό χωρίς μεταφραστή. Η επόμενη γλώσσα που έρχεται.
    Ir jābūt grūti iet caur katru valodu, lai noskaidrotu, kuras viens ir pareizs. Es domāju Jūs varētu izmantot clues, bet Jums ir jābūt saprātīgiem, darīt.
     Afiŝo estis amuza. Nu, por mi ĉiuokaze.
     Llongyfarchiadau, rydych wedi cwblhau'r her Cyfieithu!

- Grace Dessert (finally the right language)

Granny Squares!!!

     I have started (well resumed) learning how to make granny squares, I am planning to make a blanket, made of one huge square (granny style). It is christmas colors: green and red yarn that have gold in it (as if you guys didn't know the colors of christmas... Anyway, my little project is starting off splendidly, for I am on my third row.
     But alas! Doing all of the chains, slip stitched, and double chrochets is so tedious and it is getting very very very annoying, but practice makes perfect and mine is, like, perfect! (I say humbly)...

This, for those who don't know, is what a granny square looks like (a smaller one): 

Pee, Poo, Farting, and Inch-seals

     Yesterday I had a REALLY REALLY REALLY awkward day. Ish. Well, actually, really. I think. No, I don't think, I know. Well, I'll just get to the point.
     I went to Mazz's house and learned three things: Mazz is a really weird inch-seal; Gloria is actually six-hundred-and-a-half pounds, the amount of gas in her making her weigh only 58; and their neighbors are kinda freaky.
     First of all, Mazz. Mazz's hair looks like a palm tree, especially when she's about to get whacked on the head with a broom, also when she goes riding around on one like a witch. Also when she spits seven-up all over the grass in front of her house, she gets it all over her glasses as well. Mazz is also actually a thousand-pounds with enough gas to make her 100 something pounds instead. Like sister like ... other sister? Whatever, you get what I mean.
     Gloria farts a lot. Even her sister agrees with me. I think Gloria agrees with me too. But even she runs out of gas sometimes, and when that happens, she breaks the floor of her house and starts to poop. Or so she says, "I have little instants when I think of that!"
     Not only Gloria and Mazz, but their neigbors are weird too. There was this one lady, she wasn't really weird, but her dog was. She kept wiping her butt on Mazz's leg, and she shed too much. Also, when Gloria, Mazz, and I were casually conversing in the middle of the street, one guy was driving up the street, so we had to quickly scram. Then he parked his car a few houses ahead of us, and as we walked past his house, he got out of his car and started to walk down the sidewalk towards us. So, like perfectly normal people, we started to walk faster, spitting into each others' cups, spilling all over the neighbors' grass, and eating cubes of ice off the ground (actually, that was all Gloria and Mazz's doing, I was just an innocent bystander).
     Now, you peeps all have read the title, and I haven't covered any of those. So first, I'll start with peeing and pooing. Like perfectly normal people, Gloria, Mazz, and I were climbing trees, laying on the driveway, and spitting seven-up all over the grass. Triggered by some innocent joke, we all started cracking up, leading to Gloria saying, "Stop making me laugh, or else I'm going to pee!" That, of course, made us all laugh more. Soon enough, Gloria said, "If you make me laugh any more, I'm going to poo!" Or something more or less like that. Then it led to farting, where Mazz commented how Gloria farted too much, and on our stroll around the neighborhood, when we were taking a break in the middle of the sidewalk, Mazz started to do the worm towards Gloria and me. She said she was like an inch-worm, inching forward, and I disagreed, saying she was more like a seal inching forward. That created the word, inch-worm. Don't understand? Just think of the definition of an "inch-worm" as "Mazz, high on soda."

Bloody Me

          I have realized that blood appears frequently in my life. Whether it's on the TV shows I watch, or on my own person, it always seems to appear. For example, yesterday I had a nosebleed and blood got on my sheets. I was so busy washing those that I didn't notice there was blood on my leg. When I went to put on my shin guards for soccer, there was a big clump of dried blood all matted in with the hair which I had to wash out. The very night before, I had been watching CSI, where there was a lot of blood on the walls of a contaminated building. Because of my great experience with blood, I decided to make a list of the times when I have found blood in strange places.

 • on my leg
 • on my jacket
 • on my lamp
• on the floor
 • on my socks
 • on my elbow

Please, if you have ever found your blood in a strange place, feel free to comment on it.

P.S. Since only Hannah has answered my previous post I am tempted to say that she won, but will give you guys a bonus few days to come up with something. It better be extra good.

A Fish's Tail

     I am a simple fish, living in the realm of the underwater kingdom, my name was given to me by my Aunt, who raised me and my brothers when my mother went for a fishing hook, she was not the brightest ray of light in the sea, I was told. But she had a pure heart and soul. Now, back to the present, I have no clue how old I am, but I am an adult and living on my own. I have wandered the sea for a reason, a something to do with my life other than eat, poop, and sleep (you may think, oh this is one of those stories, a nobody who finds a quest and turns out to be a hero, but let me assure you, this is NOT one of those stories). I may start sounding like it, but really it does not end like that.
     I did, in fact, one day go looking for an adventure, and, indeed, I found one, but not the type you expect (maybe). -- Wait a second, maybe this IS that type of tale, well hmmmm, maybe I should just stop right now before I go further... A little more can't hurt. Right? Wait, I am a fish, who am I talking too... Hmmm, this whole story bussiness is confusing.-- One day, while I was swimming around, looking for some food, I wandered apon a crab trap, I had gone in, but realized it would snap closed with one disturbance, so I slipped out, almost. My tail got snapped in, the cage had closed on it, and I was in pain, BAD pain. It wass luck that brough my crab friend over to help me, he lifted the cage and let me free (we sea creatures are smarter than we appear, well the dumb ones are dumb, BUT the smart ones are smart). My body fell limp and I floated down, almost feather-like. But anyway, I couldn't swim, but my crab friend took me to his cave where he bandaged my tail and took care of me.
      All of this leads me to now, still healing.
__________________________________________________________________________________

Yeah yeah yeah, I know, what type of story was that! Well too bad, I was in the mood to tell my short tale of my tail, well that wasn't much of a story... so... HEY WHATS THAT!!!!!!!!!

(While your head was turned, I hid so you can't ask me anymore questions, hahahaha!)

THE END

Dying a Year Early With EXPERIENCE

Today Hannah may have just shortened my life. Why did I let her? Because, if my life is a year shorter, her life is WAY shorter. Like 20 years shorter. How did this all happen? I ask myself. I had decided to help Hannah with her stained glass coasters, getting to take a hammer to the very very breakable glass. The sound was satisfying as well as the psychological effect it had. I could picture BLANK's (<----- blank due to personal reasons) face among the glass as I brought the hammer down. HARD. The color also fit very well, as it was red. Bloody red. :) But that very effective stress reliever comes at a price, maybe. Probably. 99.9% likely. Why, may you ask? Now I have glass powder settling in my lungs. Maybe. Probably. Wait, I said this already, and you get what I mean. Maybe. But I already told her that I wouldn't get angry at her, unless I'm 99 and about to turn 100, and I die, like, a day before my birthday. That's when I'll blow my fuse. But, oh well. She'll probably be dead by then... :D

Connecting the Dots with a Purple, Sparkly Crayon

You know how sometimes, when you think of something, it leads to another thing, which leads to another thing, and so on and so on, until you reach a subject that had nothing to do with what started your train of thought in the first place? I think it is really annoying, especially when you forget how you got there in the first place. My dad was driving the car with his left hand, and he used that hand to scratch his nose, leaving the steering wheel unattended, reminding me of my uncle, who sometimes twisted the steering wheel back and forth, making the car rock and fishtail, also leading me to a book I read about an 80 year old old person who tail-gated the main character on a narrow road on a mountain, which reminded me of the time that my dad, mom, brother, and I went on a hiking trip to the top of the mountain and chucked grapes off the side, imagining gruesome and gory deaths for them all, which made me think of parachuting, especially the Planet Earth video about caves, and so on. I forget the rest. You get what I mean, right? You see how annoying it is? Exactly.
That's just connecting the dots, preferably with a purple, sparkly crayon.

Life - School = Lazy

Yep, you got it. The answers to the first equations were all good and I didn't feel like judging them so I have come up with a tie breaking round for the finals.
1. water - hot =
2. glasses - lenses =
3. knockout - bumping =
4. school - homework =
5. humans - noses =

Should I Wake up?

The reasons I get up in the morning are strictly for love. Is there a reason to step into the world if you surrounded yourself in hate? No, I think not. If you embrace the friendships and funny moments, you'll lazily get up laughing. If you bear-hug your bestest (it should be a word) of friends and all the lovely things you done together you'll walk out of bed with the world's biggest smile on your face. If you live the love your friends give you and remember the bloopers you committed with eachother you will truly run out of bed filled with excitement to meet them again. Here's who and what I love (as friends)

- Horses (Earny, Lady, Bella, Tom, Jerry, Rusty, Tin Tin etc...)
- All my bestest* of friends
- Dogs (Rio, Ned, Bo, Bob etc.)
- Chocolate
- Nature
- Laughing
- Books
- Writing
- Soccer

That's why I wake up...PLEASE SHARE YOUR LIST TOO!

*should still be a word

Chipotle Burrito Bag...

   "I remember it like it was yesterday... the question that changed my life. Black or Pinto?... Black or Pinto? I had no idea what to say. I was lost. Everybody else I was with knew exactly what they wanted... I was holding up the line, so I went for it. I went with my gut and I've never looked back.
   Black beans, you were delicious. I could taste the Cumin and Garlic. You were tender, but not mushy. You've made me the man I am today. You're the glue that holds my burritos together... day after day. Heck, you're probably the 3rd most important reason I get up every morning...
   Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I would've chosen pinto instead of you....."

-Chipotle Burrito Bag

Live, Love, Laugh

♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺
At a point like this, one where I decide a large decision without help from anyone else, I conclude that even if we feel as though were aren't in depression over one thing or another, we probably are. So using the very statement Grace gave to me, I Want to ensure your very own
Happiness while promoting your Love for the world. So, take a minute (or 60) to relax on a little patch of grass somewhere, while reading a great book that inspires you to live, love, laugh, and smile. So fill with hope and laugh, laugh, laugh, it is summer after all!!!
♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺♥☺☺

Hello... or no hello?

hel·lo/həˈlō/

Exclamation:

Used as a greeting: "hello there, Katie!".
 Noun:

An utterance of “hello”; a greeting.

Hello, is a relatively simple term, one which I don't come close to thinking twice about when I use. There really is no inappropriate time , I once thought. But now I think back and there's a long list of
times in which I would not use the word, for example:

-During a lecture
-While watching a Sex-Ed video
-As I am sleeping(unless I sleep talk???)
-As I am praying...

Please add to the list!

Blisters& Solitary Confinement

Blisters have everything to do with solitary confinement... when you're in solitary confinement on the top of the world, you feel lonely, when you feel lonely you decide to do things that you think will help your depression cease, when you do things that you think will help...well... you spot your dad mowing the lawn, when you see your dad mowing the lawn you ask if you can try, when you ask if you can try, you try the easiest part (or so your dad didn't tell you) when you get tricked into believing that mowing the lawn is easy you volunteer to do it the next time, when you volunteer you end up doing it, when you end up doing it, you notice how hard it is the mow the lawn (except for the 3.2% that your dad let you try) when you notice how hard it is you try harder to prove that 12 year old girls can do it too, when you try to harder (pushing against the vibrating plastic while heavy-lifting a motor on four wheels over hundreds of yards of uneven land- due to wild swine digging up roots- and sweating) you get horrible blisters on your thumbs.

The Result of a Pondering About Armadillos, Dilophosauruses, and Armfuls of Work

     Today I was walking down the streets of some city, somewhere. It was quite an odd city, with odd people with odd hair, and after walking down the street for quite some time, I came across an interesting store. "Buy your Armadillo here," the sign said. As I peered inside, I saw about ten people with leashes in their hands, smiling. And even before I looked did I know what was on the other side of the leashes--puppies, no, I meant armadillos. 

     I then sat down on a nearby bench, listening to the overly-long lecture  the salesperson was giving to the newly petted people. I started to wonder how the armadillo got its name. Maybe armadillos are so much work that they are not just a handful, they are an armful. But then what about the "dillo" part? Oh! I know! Well if you look up dillo in the dictionary, you don't get any results. However, the closest thing to dillo it dilo, and if you look that up in the dictionary, ... you still get no results. On the contrary, I remembered a creatology I did a while back on dinosaurs, and the Dilophosaurus popped into my mind! Armadillos must be related to Dilophosauruses! I had completed my thesis--Armadillos are Dilophosauruses that are an armful of work!

Math Equations For The Bored

I know someone who says smart people never get bored. I highly disagree. Smart people get bored frequently, they just do something boring to make it seem as if they are occupied. I have decided to make an activity for you creative and unstimulated occasionally random folk. The most creative answers win. Imaginations ready? On your mark, get set, go!!!
1. 2+2=
2. pee + holes=
3. 10 pages + humor=
4. Caleb + TV=
5. Michael Jordan + Charles Barkley=
Everybody should try to answer. After 3 people have attempted I will post my answers and after 4 the winning answer. Beccajandro

Summer + Uni-Q =

The Summer Fun Normally Abnormal Blog As you can tell (ahhh i cant find the comma key) we are living in a strange time, (found it) where the general population believes its a good idea to allow children access to the internet (whoops, forgot we were tweens). In this case, I tend to agree with the general population. Time to take advantage of our freedom. ssjajdetywjajxbwjwiiakqjwjdclnggai. qirydhjbxvxnaajqoepfifhcvbxnajcegwyuaiqk. Anyway, since I am obviously unstimulated, I have decided to make a list of the 5 weirdest things people have made me do all summer. 5. take 100+ kids to belmont park for 3 hours but only let them do the lasermaze. 4. not take a shower because the toilet overflowed and denied me access to my room. 3. spill oobleck on the table because i was being attacked by oobleckified brothers. 2. teach 50+ kids the wrong way to spell yellow. 1. pretend I'm the hulk in a waterballoon fight. feel free to question, comment, and tell my ur weirdest things in ur replies. With much loving weirdness, Beccajandro typed from my kindle fire in the UCSD library

Average Fat People, and Normally Abnormal Friends

     Today we live in an era in which the supposed-to-be-consistent values are becoming inconsistent. In our eyes, fat people are fat, normal people are normal. There is just no other way to say it. However, as more and more people are becoming fat, overweight people are outnumbering average people. And if you are grading on a curve, then overweight people, or what we knew as overweight people, are now average people. See what I mean, our moral principals of life are becoming mixed up in front of our very eyes!
     However, before you come to any unnecessary conclusions, I have yet to give you one more example. In our little circle of friends, the summer happiness has taken over, and we are using our imaginations more than we used to. The result--random passages of random, unnecessary but funny text. Now, since more people are writing abnormally than normally, the normal thing has become abnormal. Now they are the exact same thing! But, what do we call what we used to call normal?!?! ...