Most of my favorite memories involve orange, tablecloths, and nillas. And then there was the Skittle Wars, which were some of the weirdest things ever. I'd like to say that we actually ate the skittles, but they ended to be used as projectiles, mostly. We would load the skittle gun and have pitched battles between who ruled the Skittle-world. Or we'd just fight over the skittles. I rarely had to lift a finger in those battles. My friends always supported me. We were crazed, certainly, but it was a good kind of insanity. Thank you guys.
It's so easy to talk for hours about what frustrates you the most. That scares me. I'm not a grateful person, but I want to be. So can I talk about the reverse of frustration and talk about what envigorates and encourages me? I suppose so, I mean, it is my blog. And I've just stared at this doc for a full thirty seconds trying to figure out what encourages me. Uh oh. I guess I need to work harder, neh? I'll get better. It'll get easier. And that thought keeps me going. Yay.
Cheesecake and mushrooms. My brother loves cheesecakes and hate mushrooms. I hate cheesecakes and love mushrooms. Bob and I are so different and yet so similar to each other that it's almost unfathonable. We're not the most peculiar pair of siblings, besides for the fact that we were constantly around each other that most siblings don't have to deal with. I just... I don't get him. I love the kid, I do. But it's hard to relate. I wish that wasn't so peculiar. He also doesn't like paprika. HOW?! How can anyone not like paprika?
If I look out the window into the yard across the street from one of the houses, there's a little miniature garden in yard, and a rock in the garden. I don't like that rock. It looks like a dead baby turkey. And yes, I've checked. It's not an actual dead baby turkey. Why are there rocks shaped like such? Is God just setting stuff up to be mistaken for something else? Is that what God does with people? Because I feel so misunderstood sometimes, and I really don't want to be seen as the ugly dead turkey rock.
There's so many wonderful things about gadgets. And then there's the History channel special that listed duct tape as the number 100 as a countdown of the most important gadgets in history. 100! Duct tape should have been like... number five. Guess what number five was. The lightbulb. Yes. Seriously. The number one most important gadget in history and they rate it at number five. Rated as more important than the light bulb were the alarm clock and syringes. Seriously. History channel just doesn't know it's gadgets. But Doctor Who does: “Gadget. Gadget.”
If there's one thing to say about shoes, it would be that they aren't uniform. They just... aren't. I used to sleep with shoes. I used to love shoes. I'd never know a person's face, but I know what kind of shoes they were wearing. That aspect of me faded away after awhile, but it rekindled over last school year, especially because I'd walk though the school ways looking at people shoe's and not their faces, because while shoes may not be uniform, they're more uniform than people's faces. More uniform. More forgiving. People scare me. Shoes don't.