I learned a lot in Disney World. I have a lot of blog topics floating around. When I say a lot, I mean it. Debate over whether a cold bus is better than a hot one, my fear of fireworks, my aversion to rollercoasters, my sister's adventures, my extreme cheapness, slipping through crowds, and going from a pushover to a pushy are all topics that I mean to address. Let's try my fear of fireworks.
Fireworks just don't agree with me for three reason.
Reason Number 1: It's too loud. I don't like loud noises at all. Disney is FULL of loud noises, and I didn't like it. I plugged my ears for some things. The fireworks have this huge BOOM that makes me jump.
Reason Number 2: There is fire involved. Call me a sissy, but fire's not my thing. It's hot. I cringe every time the fireworks start to make their way down. It doesn't help that there is usually a tree nearby. At Disney, we were standing under a tree while watching.
Reason Number 3: Fireworks are relatively unpredictable. If I knew exactly when fireworks made the loud boom, and exactly when they would be shot out, I would feel better about them. But they don't. I don't know when to brace myself, and it makes them enjoyable.
Those are my trio of reasons that I dislike fireworks.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Eat, Facebook, Music. Repeat.
I do three things with my life. Eat, Facebook, music. Repeat. Ok, not really, but you get the idea.
I love food. Yep, it's true. I'm not the biggest person you'll ever meet, but I'm not the smallest. I"m normal. Whoah, normal? It can't be true. What? Me, normal in any respect? Anyway, it doesn't matter what my size is. I still love food.
My latest passion are peanuts. I'm eating them now. Not the Planters, but the kind you have to get out of shell-thing. Yep, that's a word. Shell-thing. These peanuts are just the right mix of salty and peanutty. OK, the PSATT- Post-SAT-Trauma- is getting to me.
I think the reason I love eating so much is it's always something to do. I am a bored eater, which is really bad. Really really bad. On the bright side, I can share some of my mom's clothes.
Facebook is an addiction. I'm blaming it on Moose Man and Tishmeister, but I spend more time on Facebook than's good for me. But those two people make my day on Facebook. Often. And occasionally, texting. But Facebook is mostly what I do. I love checking out people's profiles, posting stati(that's the plural of status, ya know!), looking at stati, commenting, checking out pictures- the list goes on! I am planning on going to Facebook Anonymous one of these days- Moose Man said he'd go with me, and I can look on Facebook on his fancy phone to make sure I don't miss any notifications. The horror!
Now, of course, I do lots of musicy stuff. Piano, choir, voice. Takes practice, ya know? Not much explanation needed there. Lots of piano bangin' and yodelin' goes on at our house.
Eat, Facebook, music. Repeat.
I love food. Yep, it's true. I'm not the biggest person you'll ever meet, but I'm not the smallest. I"m normal. Whoah, normal? It can't be true. What? Me, normal in any respect? Anyway, it doesn't matter what my size is. I still love food.
My latest passion are peanuts. I'm eating them now. Not the Planters, but the kind you have to get out of shell-thing. Yep, that's a word. Shell-thing. These peanuts are just the right mix of salty and peanutty. OK, the PSATT- Post-SAT-Trauma- is getting to me.
I think the reason I love eating so much is it's always something to do. I am a bored eater, which is really bad. Really really bad. On the bright side, I can share some of my mom's clothes.
Facebook is an addiction. I'm blaming it on Moose Man and Tishmeister, but I spend more time on Facebook than's good for me. But those two people make my day on Facebook. Often. And occasionally, texting. But Facebook is mostly what I do. I love checking out people's profiles, posting stati(that's the plural of status, ya know!), looking at stati, commenting, checking out pictures- the list goes on! I am planning on going to Facebook Anonymous one of these days- Moose Man said he'd go with me, and I can look on Facebook on his fancy phone to make sure I don't miss any notifications. The horror!
Now, of course, I do lots of musicy stuff. Piano, choir, voice. Takes practice, ya know? Not much explanation needed there. Lots of piano bangin' and yodelin' goes on at our house.
Eat, Facebook, music. Repeat.
SAT Today- Rambling About Nothing in my SAT Exhaustion
I took the SAT today- it was my second time. I've taken the ACT three times. Anyway, I feel really great about how I scored. Which probably means that I did awfully, but I'm happy. I don't dare to guess what I made. I just hope for the best.
The testing was rather uneventful. I think this one guy across from me was secretly laughing at my test taking technique and focus. I can be f-o-c-u-s-e-d when I want to. And have to. I'm not sure what to blog about. This isn't turning into anything.
Well, maybe if I ramble on long enough this will turn into a real blog post. The math sections were easier than I remembered- I did a crash course refresher yesterday in the math, and it helped bunches. Me being the grammar nazi made the Englilsh sections a breeze. It was like doing Facebook, except with less errors.
Oh, I see a window of opportunity! Let's rant and rave about the grammar of America! No, I'll save it for a more inspired day. I'm exhausted. I had my post-test pig-out- ICEE with powdered donuts. A mild pig-out, but a pig-out nonetheless.
Adios!
The testing was rather uneventful. I think this one guy across from me was secretly laughing at my test taking technique and focus. I can be f-o-c-u-s-e-d when I want to. And have to. I'm not sure what to blog about. This isn't turning into anything.
Well, maybe if I ramble on long enough this will turn into a real blog post. The math sections were easier than I remembered- I did a crash course refresher yesterday in the math, and it helped bunches. Me being the grammar nazi made the Englilsh sections a breeze. It was like doing Facebook, except with less errors.
Oh, I see a window of opportunity! Let's rant and rave about the grammar of America! No, I'll save it for a more inspired day. I'm exhausted. I had my post-test pig-out- ICEE with powdered donuts. A mild pig-out, but a pig-out nonetheless.
Adios!
Friday, June 3, 2011
Grecian Girl
Grecian Girl(see post about names) would make a great door-to-door saleswoman. She can approach anyone and say or ask anything. While we were in an opera together, we went to get everyone to sign our program. It's no problem for her to approach anyone and ask or say anything. The only time she gets shy is with our choir director. "You ask her, please." And I usually do. I don't know why she is hesitant. But I can be bold.
I'm going to Disney World on tour with the ERT choir. I'm not a ride-rider, and neither is GG. So, we will probably be in Epcot. And guess what we'll be doing? I plan on taking lots of pictures with random people. Yep. In front of random objects. Yep. It's gonna be great!
Grecian Girl has boosted my boldness- a lot. Next year, I'll be without her. I think I'll still be crazy without her, but it won't be the same. No one is going to push me into the guy whose autograph I wanted. No one is going approach with the dumbest, funniest question ever and ask the violinist just to find out his name. No one is going to make me spill my water bottle all over the carpet. No one is going to call me a crazy loud soprano. No one is going to punch me when I am not paying attention. No one is going to make fun of my operatic self. No one is going to tease me about voice lessons. No one is going to be able to sing higher than me.
I didn't mean for this to be a post about how I"ll miss GG. But I will. We've done so much crazy stuff together, and I plan on making Disney World a memorable time with her. I can't wait, but at the same time, I can.
I'm going to Disney World on tour with the ERT choir. I'm not a ride-rider, and neither is GG. So, we will probably be in Epcot. And guess what we'll be doing? I plan on taking lots of pictures with random people. Yep. In front of random objects. Yep. It's gonna be great!
Grecian Girl has boosted my boldness- a lot. Next year, I'll be without her. I think I'll still be crazy without her, but it won't be the same. No one is going to push me into the guy whose autograph I wanted. No one is going approach with the dumbest, funniest question ever and ask the violinist just to find out his name. No one is going to make me spill my water bottle all over the carpet. No one is going to call me a crazy loud soprano. No one is going to punch me when I am not paying attention. No one is going to make fun of my operatic self. No one is going to tease me about voice lessons. No one is going to be able to sing higher than me.
I didn't mean for this to be a post about how I"ll miss GG. But I will. We've done so much crazy stuff together, and I plan on making Disney World a memorable time with her. I can't wait, but at the same time, I can.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Confessions of a Cow Hypochondriac
That's right. Cow hypochondriac. In case you didn't know, a hypochondriac is someone who thinks that every little physical or mental problem is the result of some big illness. Well, I'm a cow hypochodriac.
I guess I'm scarred. After Lil' Bit, the Jersey heifer, had a whole round of sickness that included Milk Fever(a calcium definciency) and ketosis(expending more energy than one consumes- this nearly killed her). Neither were our fault- it was her post-birth round of sickness.
Whenever one of our cows is not completely herself, I start to worry. I check to see if their ears are cold, and check for trembling. I watch the way they lie down, and carefully note how they walk. I check the level of water, and check to see how full their rumen(sp?) is. I will stay to make sure that they are not walking in circles. It's what I do.
I would guess that I know more about cows than the average person. Actually, I'm sure of it. I'm hardly a vet, but I know a good bit about cows. It's been so hot lately, and milk production has been down. I hope that's why Lil' Bit is less excited about her food- it's hot in there. I'm a cow hypochondriac.
I guess I'm scarred. After Lil' Bit, the Jersey heifer, had a whole round of sickness that included Milk Fever(a calcium definciency) and ketosis(expending more energy than one consumes- this nearly killed her). Neither were our fault- it was her post-birth round of sickness.
Whenever one of our cows is not completely herself, I start to worry. I check to see if their ears are cold, and check for trembling. I watch the way they lie down, and carefully note how they walk. I check the level of water, and check to see how full their rumen(sp?) is. I will stay to make sure that they are not walking in circles. It's what I do.
I would guess that I know more about cows than the average person. Actually, I'm sure of it. I'm hardly a vet, but I know a good bit about cows. It's been so hot lately, and milk production has been down. I hope that's why Lil' Bit is less excited about her food- it's hot in there. I'm a cow hypochondriac.
Clothes Shopping
There are so many things I"d like to blog about now, including texting, America's view on relationships, and the morning ritual around here. But those will take a while to write. So, I turn your attention towards my next topic: clothes shopping.
Yes, I am a girl. Yes, I like having more than one outfit. No, I don't like shopping. I hate it, actually.
It doesn't help that I'm 8 feet tall. When I find a pair of jeans that fit, I buy about fifty pair. It's hard to find jeans. The "tall" jeans are in juniors sizes. I DON'T AND CAN'T WEAR JUNIOR SIZES. Never have, never will. Plus, all jeans seem to have holes in them. I can make my own holes in jeans- that's why I'm buying new ones! Don't rip my jeans, people! And faded with writing. I don't want faded jeans. That's another reason I'm buying new ones! Geesh, do they take old jeans and sell those? And don't forget the tears and sweat that go into finding jean shorts. I don't want Daisy Dukes, but I don't want the old-lady kind. That rules out about 90 percent of jeans, and 9 percent of the 10 left are too short. I am in the lonely 1 percent.
Shirts are basically impossible to find. Women's sizes tend to be a little large, but the juniors tend to be ridiculously small and written on. So, I go with the women's sizes. It's tough finding shirts that are a balance between cute and modest. Really hard. Super hard.
Don't get me started on bathing suits.
Yes, I am a girl. Yes, I like having more than one outfit. No, I don't like shopping. I hate it, actually.
It doesn't help that I'm 8 feet tall. When I find a pair of jeans that fit, I buy about fifty pair. It's hard to find jeans. The "tall" jeans are in juniors sizes. I DON'T AND CAN'T WEAR JUNIOR SIZES. Never have, never will. Plus, all jeans seem to have holes in them. I can make my own holes in jeans- that's why I'm buying new ones! Don't rip my jeans, people! And faded with writing. I don't want faded jeans. That's another reason I'm buying new ones! Geesh, do they take old jeans and sell those? And don't forget the tears and sweat that go into finding jean shorts. I don't want Daisy Dukes, but I don't want the old-lady kind. That rules out about 90 percent of jeans, and 9 percent of the 10 left are too short. I am in the lonely 1 percent.
Shirts are basically impossible to find. Women's sizes tend to be a little large, but the juniors tend to be ridiculously small and written on. So, I go with the women's sizes. It's tough finding shirts that are a balance between cute and modest. Really hard. Super hard.
Don't get me started on bathing suits.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Strong Stomach and Semen Tank
For Tishmeister:
“Is this going to gross you out, because if it is, I won’t show it to you.” I laughed to myself. He has no idea what a strong stomach I have.
Mom butts in, “She’s felt a calf en utero.”
“What?? Was this for 4H or something?”
“No, it was at home.”
“For fun?”
Now I’m laughing super hard. “No, it was a pregnancy check on our cow.”
The rest of the conversation was about artificial insemination and such. Cool.
I have a very strong stomach; I can’t recall ever being grossed out at anything. Except the scene from Pride and Prejudice where the fat guy is eating like an animal. That is gross. But other than that, I’m pretty much unshakable. I thought dissecting a deer was fun.
Turns out, the videos he showed me were of vocal chords. Ones from normal people, from people with cancer, people with different diseases. I don’t know how anyone could consider this gross.
On a similar subject, we have a semen tank in our house. Yes, a semen tank. Guess where it is? No, not the kitchen. It’s in the piano room. Yep. I don’t really notice. It’s just there. From time to time, the semen tank company comes around to fill it up. I wish I could learn how to do AI(artificial insemination). The man who got us into all this cow business said that I have small arms that are perfect for AI. He is supposed to teach me one of these days. Mom is considering taking a class on it. No fair. I wanna come.
“Is this going to gross you out, because if it is, I won’t show it to you.” I laughed to myself. He has no idea what a strong stomach I have.
Mom butts in, “She’s felt a calf en utero.”
“What?? Was this for 4H or something?”
“No, it was at home.”
“For fun?”
Now I’m laughing super hard. “No, it was a pregnancy check on our cow.”
The rest of the conversation was about artificial insemination and such. Cool.
I have a very strong stomach; I can’t recall ever being grossed out at anything. Except the scene from Pride and Prejudice where the fat guy is eating like an animal. That is gross. But other than that, I’m pretty much unshakable. I thought dissecting a deer was fun.
Turns out, the videos he showed me were of vocal chords. Ones from normal people, from people with cancer, people with different diseases. I don’t know how anyone could consider this gross.
On a similar subject, we have a semen tank in our house. Yes, a semen tank. Guess where it is? No, not the kitchen. It’s in the piano room. Yep. I don’t really notice. It’s just there. From time to time, the semen tank company comes around to fill it up. I wish I could learn how to do AI(artificial insemination). The man who got us into all this cow business said that I have small arms that are perfect for AI. He is supposed to teach me one of these days. Mom is considering taking a class on it. No fair. I wanna come.
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