My Mid-Life Crisis

Hey guys, look - it's me!

No, really! Allow me to explain.

Fun fact about me: I'm a sucker for online personality quizzes. Since I have no hope of ever understanding me on my own, it's only natural that I should resort to the omniscient Internet for assistance.

There's only one problem.

Those quizzes are grossly inaccurate.

Oh sure, I was pretty thrilled with the results of the "What's the Color of Your Aura?" one (pink) and the "What Kind of Guy Will You Fall For?" one (the gentleman - naturally).

But then I decided to take a risk. I did something so hugely unprecedented that...well, it was so unprecedented that there is no way for me to even describe the unprecedentedness of this unprecedented event.

There's been this one quiz popping up all over Facebook the last couple of days, taunting and teasing me, tempting and tantalizing. And I just couldn't resist.

"Can We Guess Who You Are in Only 20 Questions?"

Now I was pretty curious about this one. How specific was this thing going to get?

Would it know my name?

My age?

My favorite color?

My deepest, darkest secrets?

So I set out on a quest to figure out who I am.

The website asked me deep, personal questions like, "How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?" and "Do you prefer beef or chicken?" (Chicken, in case you were wondering)

I pressed on through question after question, determined to discover who I am. Sweat dripped from my brow, my head ached from the extreme mental strain, my hand cramped until I thought I could never let go of the computer mouse ever again, I almost gave up hope, and then...

It ended.

The quiz was over.

My quest to find myself was complete. I breathed a sigh of relief, wiped tears of joy from my cheek, and eagerly began to read:

Here is our best guess at who you are:
1. You are female.
2. You are currently in your mid 40's.
3. You are raising a beautiful family, you have a career you're quite pleased with.
4. You've recently started volunteering in your community. 
5. You are taller than average, you have gorgeous dark hair and beautiful brown eyes.

...

Sayeth what?

Either I'm having a mid-life crisis, or....or....this quiz is wrong. Very, VERY wrong!

(I double checked on my Facebook page, and I'm still an average height, blonde-haired, hazel-eyed teenager with no children or career who likes to sleep instead of volunteering.)

So guys, I think I learned a valuable lesson today: The Internet has no idea what it's talking about 80% of the time (because they at least got the female part right).

And neither do I.

Adieu.

NOT BREAKING NEWS

I realized something a while ago.

To my understanding, you read my blog because, for some reason unbeknownst to me, you are interested in me/my life/my thoughts and opinions.

But while I've been very busy not keeping you all up to date on my life, things have been merrily chugging along in Meredithworld.

That should really be a theme park... Or maybe we can just go with this:

But I digress.

Anyway. Since you guys are interested in my life (and if you really aren't, please remember that ignorance is bliss and don't inform me otherwise) I decided to get you caught up on some of the majorer things that I've done or been up to, supplemented of course with tons of pictures and GIFs because hellurrrrr I just really like them and they suit my motives.

1. I finished school and passed another semester of college with my dignity mostly intact.

2. I turned in my final English assignment, a big research paper that pretty much killed my brain. When I turned it in I was all like

and when I got it back the teacher was all like "ONE HUNDRED AND THREE" so I was pretty happy.

3. I got a cute little coffeemaker and now I can make hot tea in my room whenever I want to.

4. I apparently signed up to work in our church nursery with Mom over the summer. I'll be a regular old Mary Poppins, I just know it.

 

5. I went to my first opera. And had a blast. And went to the second showing. And fangirled a leetle.

6. I wore heels to the aforementioned opera, unwillingly.

7. I signed up for music camp in the summer. And another music camp. And I found out that apparently my summer is going to busy. Yay.

8. I went to a lot of lectures and concerts and such and felt very classy and cosmopolitan and sophisticated.

9. Mom and I watched two seasons of Call the Midwife. It's a totally cute show, but I don't recommend it for...anyone, really.

10. I entered a few things in the homeschool art show and won a few prizes. And I also painted and did other various artsy things.

Like a boss.

11. I went to the beach with mi familia. The water is finally getting warm and swimmy.

12. I got rid of my textbooks from this past semester and emptied out my school bag for the last time.

13. I took the SAT again. And had a terrifying proctor. Again. I think they should just do this at the beginning of the test

because really. Let's talk real to each other like grown-ups, shall we?

14. After vegging out a little to reward myself for surviving a pretty brutal semester, I realized that I'm officially a high school senior now. Which means the next year is going to be full of college stuff, GPA's, transcripts, senior photos, graduation gowns, stress, and did I mention stress?

So yeah. There's a brief summary-ish of the past month or so. Now for the future, to sum up my feelings going into this summer...

Let's hope I get one.

I Don't Volunteer

One of the latest developing fandoms is the Hunger Games fandom. And even though I wouldn't say I'm a member of the fandom, I did read the books and I've been watching the movies. And I am kind of a fan of the whole shebang. But not a member of the fandom. A fan, but not a fangirl. Get it?

But I was thinking last night while I was methodically raising and lowering heavy objects to develop muscular strength (because "lifting weights" sounds so terribly unladylike) and I arrived at a sobering conclusion.

I would die immediately if I was a Hunger Games tribute.

Here's why.

Reasons I wouldn't stand a chance in the Hunger Games

1. I lack a sense of self-preservation.

I honestly don't know what's wrong with me, but I just have this tendency to forget to look both ways when I cross the street, or to not think that the math building bathrooms at school are pretty terrifying. Example: the other day we were at the park and I was climbing on the playground (naturally) and Cam wanted me to come join him on one of the other platforms. Rather than climb down the stairs and up the ladder, I decided to work my way across the elevated labyrinth of doom, and only when I was nearly finished did I realize that 1) I don't have a good sense of balance, 2) I was about ten feet off the ground, and 3) I would have hurt myself pretty badly if I fell.

Genius.

2. I don't have any survival skills.

If you've watched either of the Hunger Games movies, you'll remember that the tributes train for some time before the actual games to develop their skills for surviving in the arena. 

But I have no skills whatsoever.

Camouflage - nope. Brute strength - definitely not. Stealth - LOL you're funny. Hunting - no. Traps - no. Super cool knowledge of electricity and all things technology so you can attach copper wire to a tree so that when it gets struck by lightning Katniss can shoot an arrow into the arena dome and basically break the Hunger Games (oops spoiler) - uhhh.

3. I would have no sponsors whatsoever.

I can't think on my feet or be adorable or anything like that when I'm under pressure. So when I was being interviewed by the weird smiley guy for all of Panem to watch LIVE...

I would just totally freeze up and not be charming or anything and nobody would be plugging for me. And then I would be sitting there in the arena trying to Instagram a picture of the nightlock I found ("Gonna make a berry smoothie!! LOL #happyhungergames") and then my phone would die and I would need a charger cable.

And I would have no one to float me a charger cable in one of those magical silver balloons. Because I was uncharming.

4. I have not a lot of pain tolerance.

I can remember probably six different times that Katniss was basically mortally wounded in the arena and just gritted her teeth and survived. Meanwhile, I kicked a dumbbell last night by accident and I cried for ten minutes while cradling my poor toes.

My dad has a bunch of cactus plants in our backyard (because what could possibly go wrong?) and one time I got one of the spikes stuck in my foot. We spent probably thirty minutes sitting in the kitchen with me crying and screaming like I was being murdered (because I sure thought I was) and Dad getting gradually more and more frustrated until he finally ripped the thing out of my foot. And it didn't even hurt that much. I just don't like pain.

5. I can't climb a tree or jump over logs or swim or do anything in a non-clumsy way.

Rather than try to explain this one to you, I'll just show you a few images that should help you understand the extent of my clumsiness and why this would contribute to my ultimate demise.

My first comment when the movie showed the opening of the games where the tributes are all surveying the arena while standing on their little pedestal things that blow up if you move off of them before the official start was, "I would fall off and get blown up before I even had a chance to be brutally murdered..."

6. I'm too polite.

It's a little difficult to kill people when you wouldn't even call them a bad name or cut in front of them in line.

And so yeah. That's why the Hunger Games is not the game for me.

So as far is this is concerned...

Yeah, no. No thanks. I do NOT volunteer as tribute.

Frozen

Okay, I'm as sick of Frozen stuff as the next person (I mean, just LET IT GO people!) 

BUT

Please watch this anyway. It made my life a little better.

On College Professors

I'm like actually giggling just thinking about writing this post... It's going to be too much fun.

I have been dual enrolling at Pensacola State for about a month now, so I've gotten pretty used to the way my teachers teach, test, and grade. And even better than all that businessy jazz, being me, I've found something humorous about each of them.

(I'm also going to use Rate my Professor to help me write this post, simply because I think that it's absolutely hysterical what other people say about my current teachers. I shan't name names, but maybe you'll know some of them anyway.)

I shall now tell you about my algebra teacher.

First of all, just understand that he is awesome. He's like the coolest ever (for a math teacher). He somehow manages to make his class fun, which boggles my mind, and I just sit there like

Yeah. It's pretty legit. Plus, he has an awesome beard and looks like Jeffery Dallas.

Next I think I'll talk about my American government professor. He comes to class every day decked out like he's heading off to Hawaii. He starts talking, and an hour and fifteen minutes later, he stops talking, and you'd better have written everything he said down. One student said that he "has a script of the entire history of the world memorized."

Next is my music appreciation teacher. At first glance, she looks like a sweet, kind old lady who plays the piano for her sad little Baptist church. But then she starts talking, and you learn that she is a past Navy officer with zero tolerance for rule breakers and high expectations. And when she sits down at the piano, she plays funky spunky chunky monkey jazz with high energy. So for her I say simply this: looks can be deceiving.

And now my English Comp I teacher.

He's super cool.

He's like fifteen minutes late to class all the time, which is fine by me because I get to sit and read and laugh inwardly at my apelike classmates. 

He never lets out less than twenty minutes early. 

I was really expecting to hate him, namely because of this review: "omg professor [name deleted to protect the innocent and also because this genius spelled it incorrectly] is a horrible teacher he is very confusing when he assigns papers then he turns around and grades like a nazi. i didnt learn anything and he needs to help the students that ask for it. i would never suggest taking him unless u love to write and can write super well right off the bat because otherwise u will b in the hole :("

Ooh, and here's another good one: "I would tell anyone that like the subject english not to take Mr. [Goodness people, his name is not that difficult to spell] He does not explain things to you well. I will say that he is a pretty funny man, but thats all I could say about him."

I don't know why I listened to those reviews in the first place, since they were obviously from very credible sources who would do well in an English class and know the difference between a "Nazi" teacher and someone who has expectations of his students... Totally.

This is my favorite class now.

My conclusion: College professors are an odd, widely-varied species which will never be fully understood or explained.

Engines

In my Drivers Ed course.

Which mechanical part or feature listed in Module 9 do you think is most important?
I think the most important part is the engine.
Why is that particular part or feature so important?
The car can't be driven if the engine is not functioning properly.
How do you benefit from that part or feature?
If the engine is working right, I can drive the car, which is always a plus when driving.

I pity the person who has to grade my work...

Youth Group Games

I've been looking at group games for teenagers.

It has been an entertaining experience.
I've found a couple that have been particularly interesting, and I thought I'd share them with you.

Top Ten Worst Group Games EVER.

1. Ultimate Cantaloupe - Ultimate Frisbee, but with a cantaloupe. Please tell me you see that this is dangerous, potentially very messy, somewhat wrong according to the laws of physics, and very, very stupid.
2. Slip 'n' Slide Kickball - Kickball, but with Slip 'n' Slides in between the bases. The game description even recommends keeping a first aid kit on hand during play. Is this not an obvious enough clue that THIS IS A BAD IDEA?
3. The Human Knot - Now, I have heard stories from some of you about the notorious untangling game...and this sounds pretty similar. Really. "Let's have all these hormonal teenagers with low standards and no sense of personal space link hands, arms, legs, and who knows what else and then try to get apart from everyone else! That sounds like a fun, wholesome, safe activity!"

4. Thread the Spoon - Take a frozen spoon, tie yarn to it, and thread it through your shirt and pants. Pass the spoon to the next player, who will also thread the spoon through their clothing. This one is just gross.
5. Duct Tape Head - Two players compete at once. Mummify the players' heads with duct tape, sticky side out. Dump a box of plastic spoons on the floor in front of them and have them roll their head in the spoons. Whoever picks up the most spoons in a minute, wins. Yeah. Cuz I LOVE rolling in spoons while my head is wrapped in duct tape.
6. Kill Ball - Players stand in a circle with a volleyball. They start a volley. The first person to miss goes and sits in the middle of the circle. The other players start a new volley, hitting the ball three times. After the third hit, the next player must kill the ball into the middle, trying to hit the player in the middle. If they succeed, play continues. If they miss, they must go to the middle. (Honestly I'm not sure if this is one of the worst games ever or one of the best.....)
7. Frisbee Dodgeball - Dodgeball, but with Frisbees instead of balls. Last time I checked, I prefer NOT getting hit with the Frisbee, don't you?
8. Silent Telephone - Like the game of Telephone, but instead of whispering the word to the player next you, you write it with your finger on their back. Be sure to gently trace the word while laying your soft, warm hand on the other player's arm (to be sure they hold steady). When you finish the word, let your hand linger just a little....it helps the game, really.
9. Trust Fall - No explanation necessary, right? Okay, good.
10. Anything involving chocolate syrup, marshmallows, or toilet paper.

Avoid these games at all costs. Please.

I wrote a haiku

Nothing good to say.
But I said it anyway.
So I guess I win.

I have issues

I was signing up for camp earlier and one of the things I had to fill in was this section.

"Does the camper have any emotional or behavioral issues?"

Oh yes, I have many, many emotional and behavioral issues. I will list just the most potentially dangerous ones here for sake of time - I know you have a lot of applications to go through.
For starters, sometimes I truly believe that I am a tree. I like to stand perfectly still in one spot and feel my branches and leaves blow in the wind. Sometimes I grow to twenty times my normal size and turn green when I get angry. I always run with scissors. I go ballistic whenever I hear the word "milkshake". Occasionally I will curl up into a fetal position and not move until I have recited the entire dictionary inside my head. I suffer from blennophobia, phobophobia, consecotaleophobia, and I am a kleptomaniac. There are many more things I feel I should list, but I have run out of room on the application.

Yep. I'm really excited to go to camp. x)

Dealing with Dudes

In order for this post to be appreciated to its maximum capacity, there's a few things I should make sure you all know about me first.

1. I'm homeschooled.

2. We go to a homeschool co-op with a bunch of other homeschool families.

3. I like to be in charge of everything.

4. I am kind of a stickler for spelling and good handwriting.

Anyway. 

I'm taking a world literature class at co-op this year and currently we're reading The Count of Monte Cristo. (An excellent book, by the way) Our teacher assigned us a project where we have to either defend or prosecute the main character. There are about twelve or so kids in the class, so we had to divide into teams. And I got a team full of guys.

Don't get me wrong, I love them and all, but goodness...this project is going to be a test of my patience (which is limited). So here are some lessons learned from my literature group thus far.

When dealing with dudes, you must NEVER...

NEVER EVER mention bacon. Or meatloaf. Or cheeseburgers. They will never shut up about it.

NEVER EVER let them write stuff down. Unless you are different from me and can abide abominable spelling, capitalization, punctuation, and handwriting.

NEVER EVER allow yourself to be the only girl on a team of guys. 

When dealing with dudes, you must ALWAYS...

ALWAYS manage to sneakily be the boss. (Although I know I'm the boss of all those boys anyway.)

ALWAYS throw an elbow once in a while to keep them in check.

ALWAYS stand up or sit on your knees or something so you're bigger than they are. It earns you instant respect.

Stuff I will never understand when dealing with dudes...

They like to argue. About everything. And if you're not currently arguing about anything, they will create something to argue about.

Pretty much everything about them actually. This is going to be an interesting project.

It's a good thing that I'm friends with all of my teammates, cuz otherwise someone might get hurt.

On swag bro

So you think you've got swag?
Indeed...people like to get all up in my face with t-shirts, bracelets, and hats telling me all about their swag.
Which is fine, of course...but I must ask :
Do you even know what that means or where it came from?
Since obviously you DON'T, please allow me to educate your face.

Definition of Swag
Noun
An ornamental festoon of flowers, fruit, and greenery: "ribbon-tied swags of flowers".
Verb
Arrange in or decorate with a swag or swags of fabric.

Let me get this straight...you've got an ornamental festoon of flowers, fruit, and greenery?
Well...to each his own, I suppose.
What's that you say? Swag is but an abbreviation of a more appropriate term - swagger?

Definition of Swagger
Verb
Walk or behave in a very confident and typically arrogant or aggressive way: "he swaggered along the corridor".
Noun
A very confident and typically arrogant or aggressive gait or manner.
Adjective
Denoting a coat or jacket cut with a loose flare from the shoulders.

(Thank you, Google)

Seriously? You want to be "arrogant" and "aggressive"?
Since I assume that when you tell me you've got swag, you are not referring to your jacket, I must believe that you wish to be arrogant and aggressive.
Now comes the fun part.
I have heard several things about when the word "swag" came into use these days, and I have decided to ignore all of them.
I don't care how it came about. It's awesome because William Shakespeare invented it.
Yes, Shakespeare made up the word swagger, along with over 1700 other words.
And my dear readers, I must say it.
Yes, I got swag.
Shakespeare swag.

A Story by Geoffrey

Roger never spoke with punctuation.

“Makin’ a sandwich?”

“Hhrg”

“What kind?”

“Human pancreas”

Not much to say to that. Pliny crossed the room to their imperious sofa and jackknifed backwards into its pompous folds, spreading his arms companionably over the couch back and whistling loud and hearty.

“Do not” Roger turned from his nascent sandwich and used flamethrower eyes on Pliny. Pliny raised his eyebrows and the pitch of his whistling.

Roger left the kitchen, crossed the room to Pliny and threatened him with a mayonnaisey spatula. “Stop yourself and your whistling or I will stop yourself and your whistling and then of our faces yours will be the more shredded”

Pliny furrowed his forehead, which suddenly felt imperiled. “Mr Kapt took from me my badge,” feeling in the sofa for a pen, “so I must lift my spirit from the muds somehow.” He removed an encruddened pen.

Roger felt pity but didn’t recognize it. So he chose rather to be witty. “Maybe the muds would be a better place for your whistling than for your spirit”

Pliny did not like Roger’s wit. “I think the muds should be removed from the picture entirely and replaced by properly fertilized potting soil, wherein could grow the velvety velvet blooms of opportunity and joyings.” He waved his excavated pen around.

Pliny got very boring to Roger when he said things like this, so Roger returned to his sandwich while Pliny was still speaking. He had been trying to cut the sandwich lengthwise, holding it up on its end and sawing at it with the spatula, but he now saw what he had to do. He got out a sharper knife, impaled the sandwich through the center, and walked over to the sofa. He stabbed the ensemble into the couch near Pliny, and mayo squished sickeningly. Pliny recoiled, violently spasming over one arm of the sofa.

“My spirit nearly departed me!” he yelled at the sandwich-knife. Then he turned on Roger. “EXPLAIN?”

“I wondered if that would raise your spirit from the muds wherein it is beprisoned”

“NO.” Pliny reclaimed his bum’s own and resettled in the sofa. He tried to remove Roger’s sandwich-knife, which the sofa refused to give up. So Pliny gave up. “Anyway, now to talk about: me.”

Roger bespoke his disapproval without words; Pliny did not hear the words that Roger did not say.

“Mr Kapt has little Consideration for Those Beneath Him,” began Pliny, prepared to continue for hours, “and those beneath him have little consideration for him. So my opinion is: that we should replace all positions of authority in the organ-I-zation” (That’s the nominative case of the first-person pronoun in there, which speaks eloquently of Pliny.) “with positions of impotence and leave ourselves to our own demises.”

“I agree completely Pliny” Roger’s wit made him feel more intelligent than Pliny. This is why he exercised it so often.

“Furtherfore, I don’t know why there are so many small departments in our large company. It seems unto myself that a large company should have somewhat large departments, in order to preserve its prosthetic unitication.”

It was about at this point that Roger realized Pliny had no idea what Pliny was saying. He tried to guide Pliny back to the narrow path which Roger perceived that Pliny had left. “Should a small mind be paired with a small mouth because that would be very pleasing and convenient to others”

Pliny thought about this, but not very hard and not very long. “Yessolutely.”

It was about at this point that Roger realized Pliny had no idea what Roger was saying. So he stole his sandwich back from the couch and began to eat. Pliny finally heard Roger’s unsaid words; he unsaid a few of his own.

I need company in the muds, Pliny thought to himself; it is lonely here. So I will attempt to submerge Roger also, and then it will be equally bad for each of us therefore I will be less relatiftly unglad.

Pliny began to be friendlier than normal. “Hello, Roger,” he said friendlily.

Roger looked at him, annoyed. “You have been here for several minutes Pliny that hello was massively superfluous”

Pliny was disappointed. His deceptive friendliness had not really deceived at all. “Well, I had not yet greeted you, and I wished to comedy that situation.”

“You cannot help doing that Pliny” Roger realized that he greatly preferred the company of his sandwich to that of Pliny, especially this new and eerily friendly one.

“Why, thank you, Roger!” Pliny exclaimed loudly. “How KIND OF YOU!”

Roger stared for a few seconds at Pliny, who smiled gleefully. Roger frowned very hard and got up to leave with his sandwich.

“Well, this is a tragedy!” said Pliny, pretending to be saddened by Roger’s departure. “We had just started having such a debilitating time!”

“Exhilarating is I believe your intended term and we really had not” Roger obviously wished to leave with his sandwich.

“Well, exhilarating is futile without inhilarating—and both are necessary to physical life’s continuity,” declaimed Pliny, kindly attempting to chat about something he knew nothing of. He also made a point of ignoring Roger’s idiotic slip of the tongue: Roger made them all the time, and Pliny had grown acrustomed to them.

“Ex or in”— Roger sounded tired— “hilarity will follow you wherever you go” He again began to walk toward the kitchen.

It is being successful, Pliny said to himself, he is starting to trust me. He remarked on and was impressed by my melisma! Soon I can befray his trust and catapult him headlong into the deepest towels of the muds—ha, ha, ha.

Dancing Elephants, Politics, and Masks

Today, I saw an elephant in a tutu.
I know, it's only nine in the morning, and already something crazy is happening.
But it is true. (Mom can vouch for me...and SURELY my dual-enrolled friends saw it too)
But not only was the elephant in the tutu real, somehow it related to politics.
Now, I'm no politician, but I know that the elephant represents one of the two main parties...I think the Republicans.
Which makes sense, because there were also two WOMEN out there wearing MITT ROMNEY MASKS.
I AM NOT EVEN KIDDING. (Please note that I did not call them "ladies". There is a difference, ladies.)
So there were about five things wrong with this scene...
1. An elephant.
2. The elephant was wearing a STINKING TUTU.
3. There were women wearing Mitt Romney masks.
4. Mitt Romney masks even exist. (seriously, why?)
5. One of the women was checking her phone WHILE holding her sign. (really committed, aren't we?)
I'm pretty sure they could have caused a car accident because you just have to stare at them. It's called "train-wreck syndrome". You know it's going to be awful but you can't tear your eyes away.
So yeah, actually kind of glad I was pulled out of bed at the very last minute at seven o' clock this morning in the cold weather without time to get ready at all or even put on shoes.
WORTH IT.

Gracie

0.
l6+555555

My dog can blog too. :)

Audrey: I feel like a waffle!
Cameron: Do you mean you have dents in your face?
Audrey: No...light and fluffy...

I was looking at my blog's stats, and apparently I've had people in all of these countries look at my blog: United States-5,390 views; Russia-64 views; Germany-10 views; Brazil-6 views; Canada-3 views; Argentina, Egypt, Latvia (I've never even heard of Latvia), the Philippines, Taiwan-2 views; Albania, France Bulgaria, Italy-1 view. How this happened I don't know, but it's kind of creepy. So if I don't blog at all for about six weeks, now you know why. (Just kidding! I'll keep blogging, but still! CREEEEEPY!)

I'm Pinky and the Brain

My younger siblings are learning about the brain and the nervous system and such in their anatomy and physiology class, and today they read about the left and right hemispheres of the brain. So we took a test to see if we were right dominant or left dominant. According to my test, I am fifty-one percent right and fifty percent left. How did that happen? Anyway, according to that test, these are some of my characteristics: holistic, random, concrete, intuitive, nonverbal, and fantasy-oriented. I rather like this description of my reality-based brain functions: You process information with a basis in reality, but are not limited to it. You may recognize the repercussions of your actions, but proceed to do something anyway, in the heat of the moment. You can complete projects to which you are emotionally attached as well as random tasks. As accurate as this may sound, it also told me that I am an average mathematician and speller, so obviously it can't be relied on for everything! :)

Hilarious!

from www.blimeycow.com