Brought to you straight from the bottom of my "School Stuff" Box

For the last few days, I've been cleaning out my old school stuff box.

It's been fun.

And enlightening really.

For example, here are two template poems written 6 years apart--

"If I were in Charge of the World" - January 1998 (4th grade)

If I were in charge of the world

I'd cancel getting shots,

Tomatoes except for ketchup,

Violence

And also onions except for onion rings.

If I were in charge of the world

There'd be robots to clean for you and

Candy would be for free.

If I were in charge of the world

You wouldn't have spiders,

You wouldn't have scorpions,

You wouldn't have posin (poison??) snacks

Or sharks.

You wouldn't even have ants that bite.

If I were in charge of the world

A government would be fair.

All countries would be free.

And a person who sometimes forgot to turn off lights

And sometimes forgot to practice piano

Would still be allowed to be

In charge of the world.

"If I were in Charge of the World" - 2004 (10th grade)

If I were in charge of the world

I'd cancel early mornings,

Doctor appointments

Casserole

And stupid boys.

If I were in charge of the world

There'd be closer stars

Louder laughs

And more smiles.

If I were in charge of the world

You wouldn't have homework.

You wouldn't have bad hair days.

Or "don't stay out too late".

You wouldn't even have too late.

If I were in charge of the world

Dogs would be allowed to go everywhere with you.

All ice cream would be fat free.

And a person who sometimes was a little late

And sometimes tends to procrastinate

Would still be allowed to be in charge of the world.

After comparing these two poems, I have realized two things.

1. My general concern for politics and government disappeared upon exiting the fourth grade.

2. The only common string between 4th and 8th grade me, is my passion (read: strong feelings) for food. I mean, I devote entire stanzas to offing onions and casserole. And then five seconds later, I'm commanding free candy and fatless ice cream for all.

Not to mention, at 9 years old, I was very concerned about getting rid of those "poison snacks".

They just ruin it for everyone.

Somewhere along this journey called life I became a bad blogger

Lately, I can't think of anything to say.

Or at least I can't think of how to say it.

That could be because I only blog after 12 a.m.

Which, incidentally, is after my brain turns to mush, but before it turns brilliant from a combination of exhaustion and lack of inhibitions.

Just so you know, I use the term brilliant loosely.

In fact, I use all vocabulary loosely when my brain is mush.

Also just so you know, I wish my can of V8 Fusion juice was not empty.

And finally, just so you know, there is a giant spider somewhere near or under my chair. And so I am going to bed before it eats me.

I hope someday I find something to say.

And then I find how to say it.

Because I like saying things.

'Night.

In Honor of a Certain Someone Who I Think is Awesome

"At the coco, coco banana."

"Oh... that's not Alan."

Sort of like VH1, Except without the Comedians

I'm sort of a liar.

Due to a few not-exactly-technical difficulties, my so-called summer recap is coming not as soon as I previously planned.

But not to worry.

I have thought of a way to make it up to all of you who were fooled into excitement by my brilliant marketing campaign and are now feeling a little let down.

I now bring you--

I Love the 00's.

FLASHBACK!

Okay people, it's 2006.

Lost is on TV. And people's minds are already being blown by the cast of characters that crash landed on a mysterious island.

What they don't realize, is that this show is actually Gilligan's Island with time travel.

They also don't realize that (SPOILER ALERT!) after 6 seasons of confusing plot twists and TV induced headaches, all the characters are just going to die at the end.

When Lost goes to a commercial break--since DVR is nothing more than a distant desire of the general public's imagination and since the general public is tired of watching commercials featuring insurance-buying cavemen--the people of 2006 switch the channel to their second favorite network: MTV.

There, James Blunt is telling them they're beautiful in abnormally whiny vocals while he empties his pockets during his music video that is playing between episodes of My Super Sweet Sixteen and MADE.

Meanwhile, I, a ((currently)) blond girl dressed in a pink polo, am standing in a long line of fame-seeking high schoolers who are all auditioning to be featured on that very TV show (MADE, that is).

Soon, I will try to convince the man who is somehow associated with MTV, that I am shy and insecure. And, furthermore, only learning to salsa dance and then performing at my school's next cultural assembly will cure me of my social awkwardness.*

When the MTV man asks me where the nearest drinking fountain is, I will consider it a test of how well I know my school, so I will try desperately to give him detailed directions to the hallway drinking spot, in an attempt to prove my sound school spirit.

As it will turn out, the MTV man is just thirsty.

Some students will later conclude that the MADE tryouts were just an elaborate senior prank.

But I know they were real.

Because I'm watching it on the news--MTV searching for MADE participants at local high schools makes the 6p.m. lineup.

Also in this year's news--this just in--Pluto is not a planet.

And so begins a new cultural divide. Are you for or against Pluto??

While scientists argue over the differences between dwarf planets and jupiter, I am struggling with my own scientific discoveries.

Specifically, I am looking for a broken refrigerator.

After begging the workers to let us into the dump, my group and I are standing in the middle of a landfill, wondering where to look for appliances.

The workers point us in the right direction, and soon we are videotaping somebody else's trash as we explain the complexities of thermal physics.**

We later show our fridge presentation in class. And get an A.

I do not fall asleep that day.

Speaking of things that are cold, my favorite movie, Eight Below, comes out this year.

I watch it, with my friend that I have known since first grade, on free pancake day at IHOP.

A few months later, I get lost on my way to IHOP.

All I can find is an International House of Pancakes, so I settle.

This is the day I realize that IHOP and International House of Pancakes are one in the same.***

Shortly thereafter, I graduate from high school.

Yay!

A few days before graduation, though, I ask people to sign my yearbook.

They write about MADE and about how I dyed my hair, about the length of time we have known each other and about how I sleep in class.

They don't know that four years later I will read what they wrote.

And I'll miss '06.

And I'll write a flashback on my blog (which is kind of like Live Journal, except, as far as I can tell, slightly less emo).

And I'll say it's to make up for the not-exactly-technical difficulties.

But really, it will be because...

I LOVE THE 00's!

FLASHBACK

* Yes, this really happened.

** True story.

*** I am not kidding. I was meeting friends at IHOP and almost called them to say I could only find the International House of Pancakes. I was just about to make the call when my brain finally made this connection... I-International, H- House, O-of, P-Pancakes!

Early Morning Mumbo Jumbo

It's 3 in the morning, and I am eating frozen pie and thinking it's a good thing that Netflix regularly adds new movies, because I am running out of romantic comedies to watch.

I am also thinking that I should seriously consider fixing my sleeping schedule, because it's weird that I wake up at 8 or 9 (p.m.), and then spend all night working on various projects that I like to pretend are worthwhile.

Anyway, weird or not, I can't fix my sleeping schedule. At least not tonight. On account of this pie is probably going to give me nightmares. And I prefer waking up from nightmares when it's light outside.

Besides, it's quieter at night.

Which is beneficial, especially when I'm watching romantic comedies made in the 70s and 80s on Netflix.

After all, I like to be able to hear what the talking babies are saying.

Anyway...

I'm writing mostly because I want to tell you that a real* update is COMING SOON**.

And giving you this information just so happens to have the fringe benefit of writing about frozen pie and talking babies.

Apparently.

Note:

If you're still confused regarding the purpose and meaning of this post, here's the picture version.

Disclaimer:

The picture version will probably not help with your confusion.

[Another Note: the pictures in column 1 are not mine and can be found here, here and here.)

Well, it's getting light outside.

And you know what that means.

It's time for me to fall asleep to the soothing sounds of 1980s romance streaming from my regularly updated Netflix instant play.

Good night!

* Real, as can generally be assumed on this blog, is a relative term here.

** I am working on my marketing skills, so I put this phrase in red and capital letters to excite you.