Sunday, December 30, 2007

What should the name of Pastor's dishwasher be?

It is no longer Nick-Ig. Note: ours is Charlie, and the one at Anan's house is Igor.

I would say that you may give many many suggestions and i'll pick one, but i think it would probably be better to let Pastor pick. Suggest away!

Also note: Scrubby-do Sue is also taken.

Monday, December 24, 2007

Fröhliche Weinachten

Fröhliche Weinachten!

And that's about it for now.

Friday, December 21, 2007


|Times 6| TT6 | b i | T1 | b | = = = = | 1= •= " | ABCa | M | H | / |

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Reading extremely old e-mails

There are places that have giant fans that blow people into the air so that they can really fly.
Agent Delta

I had a dream something like that once. We (Dad, Mom, Naomi, Nick, Nat, me) all visited a space station for Nathaniel's birthday, and they used the jet engines to blow us up in the air, and you have to go straight up or you'll get out of the flow and fall and die. It was pretty hard. Then we played a game where it was put at an angle, and when we were blown we had to fall into the windshield of Nick's new car and catch the yellow crayon there. It was a great game till Nathaniel crashed and died. Then Nick died. Dad and Mom and Naomi didn't want to play any more, but they let me, only they drove away in the late Nick's car, and i had to catch the yellow crayon in midair (i think it floated), and do an air-flip and land on my feet. After that i don't remember.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Throwing things away

I clutched the small piece of paper closely to my chest, running hard and fast away from the group of people. I slowed down just enough to look back a time or two. They were giving me strange looks, and i trembled and picked up my pace. I slowed again a little later, this time to a stop: I had reached where i was going.

I took a deep breath - and entered. Walk slowly, i told myself. Be respectful. My feet were unusually quiet upon the floor, as i was walking toe-heel, toe-heel, always bringing the latter down carefully.

I stopped, just two feet away from the Heirloom Box. It was a lovely thing, all dark subtle green, like the color of a dark pine, just ready for you to decorate for Christmas, full of promise and mystique. There was a black plastic bag inside, to protect the Box itself, and to package up the heirlooms to make room for more. The bag was also a thing of beauty; both Box and bag were made of the finest plastic, picked from the rare and hushed-up plastic trees way up in the Himalayas. A special group of monks, snipers, and upholsterers went to pick and choose the very finest for Heirloom Boxes and bags, and also to nourish and prune all the plastic trees and saplings, in hopes that someday there will be more.

I gazed lovingly at the Heirloom Box, but i was still thinking of the group of people back in the hall, and it would be terrible to approach the Box with angry or frightened thoughts.

Involuntarily, i remembered what had happened…

We (the youth group) were putting Christmas cookie platters together for the bake sale, and we had just finished. I was taking one last plate in to the room where two people were putting plastic wrap (made of cheap, discount synthetic plastic) on them, and when i came back, everybody else was gathered in a sort of group, laughing. I wedged my way in to see what was up, and there it was: the paper. The poor little thing was frightened beyond its wits, and was fluttering at every movement of the plastic-gloved (also cheap plastic) people. At a quarter the size of most papers, the paper was already too tiny to be out on its own, not to mention crumpled up to be made smaller. When i was still for a moment, i saw the holes in one shoulder where it had been stapled to its fellows.

Quicker than i would have thought i could, before i could think at all, i crouched down and scooped it up. It struggled feebly for a moment, but it was only paper, and i held it carefully so as not to spook it further, if possible. Then i ran.

And now here i was. My heart was steady now. I was calm.

I almost took a step right then. When i look back at it, i still shiver a little. How could i have not thought? I forget things sometimes, but this is the most important, memorized from the first. I sat for a moment and pulled off my shoes, then my socks. A small clod of dirt fell from the crevices of my shoe's sole, and after a moment's thought, i collected that along with the paper. It, too, was an heirloom.

Then i stepped. One, two, two and a half steps altogether, taking baby steps. I kneeled to the Heirloom Box and pressed my free hand, my left, to its side, asking permission. I kept it there for the count of six Hippopotami, and as it was still there and intact after the last one, i stood once more, hugging the - my - heirlooms one last time. Carefully, though. That dirt clod could break pretty easily.

I took the lid off the Box and took it smoothly to the floor. And gently, ever so gently, i placed the heirlooms in their Box. I could almost hear them getting happier. They were in their place now, and if i wanted i could go visit them at the Heirloomyard. Oh to be an Heirloomgirl, the glamor! Like the Heirloomman in Dilbert. One of the few who appreciates it openly. I hear they have strict tests for Heirloompeople, though. They have to.

I put the lid back on the Heirloom Box and backed away a few feet, back to my shoes and socks, put them back on, and exited silently. My work here was done.

Thursday, December 13, 2007


Ah, the Seminary is a great place. In the chapel i can sing as loud as i can and not be heard, at the library i can check my e-mail or read terrifyingly thick books, and this time i spent a lot of time at the clothing bank, shopping. I got three pairs of jeans (i've been marveling ever since at how warm they keep my legs), six skirts (hehe), and four sewing patterns. Blouse, skirt, skirt, jumper.

I got asked today again if i'm a Sem-wife. I don't look that old, do i?

Yesterday at Grandma's i helped move a bunch of furniture. She was having the carpet in one of the upstairs bedrooms re-stretched to get rid of the forming mountains, so we moved out two chairs, a floor lamb, several stacks of books, three large boxes, a nightstand, two mattresses, two boxsprings, and various other bits of stuff. The other things, three dressers and two bedframes, the carpet people were able to work around.

And i got to pick my first Christmas tree. Every year we use the fake one in the attic. But i went with Grandma (and cousin Ben, two years old) to the place, and they were looking at trees with my Uncle Dave, who was proving every one to have gaping holes or rabies or something, and i just picked a tall-looking tree (always a plus) and showed it to them, and it was a good tree. Grandma and Aunt Amy and cousin Brandon (Ben's family) and i had to move a little furniture in the living room for the tree, but it wasn't that much.

Benjamin has bright red hair, bright red eyebrows, and even bright red eyelashes. He's pretty big for his age, and doesn't say much. He said Dindin for Brandon, barn which is exactly right, tthurt for church, and tree, once again right. He might've said Maggie once, but it's doubtful, as he wasn't sure if i could be trusted. Oh yes, and we played a game involving shooting little metal balls across a board, and he kept saying something that Grandma was convinced was guy, but i'm pretty sure he was saying, die, die, die! Also he half-screamed when i dared to pick him up of the couch. Which he was standing on.

Monday, December 10, 2007

La, a note to follow So

First singing lesson this morning. Did various warm-ups and exercises to, well, warm up and exercise, and find my range. I have one piece for practicing, Come and trip it by i think Handel. A minor, originally C minor. I can't put the whole thing on here for copyright reasons, but i can say that the entire lyrics are: "Come, and trip it as you go, on the light fantastic toe," put in different ways. It's really neat, three medium-sized pages long. I'm also supposed to get a book, Mezzo Soprano (Moderately Soprano, which is the high range)(it's Italian). There are two volumes and i'm not sure if i should get the second also, but i probably will.

I've wanted to have voice lessons or be in a more advanced choir since July, when the For You choir sang a Bach cantata. I've been in church choirs since i was probably six, when i learned to read. I won't say my age, but that means i've been singing officially for more than half my life. I was pretty sure i'm an Alto, except for the last couple months. The ranges go from high to low Soprano, Alto, Tenor, Bass, with generally the top two for women and children, the bottom two for men.

Going with Mom to Concordia tonight. Everything was covered in a thin layer of ice this morning. Storm tonight.

So tired. Not been sleeping well since Naomi's. First my schedule was just off, with going to bed and getting up late, but now it's getting to sleep latelate and waking up regular. Two mugs of warm milk and honey last night, with a headache and a stomachache, the kind i get when i need sleep. Still have that stomachache.

Saturday, December 08, 2007


Need. Tonight was the Candle Walk (candles are placed in paper bags all along both sides of both sidewalks of a fairly short street, and people walk up and down and get emotional and runny-nosed, the second accidental), so Fuzzy and Squishy and Juicy and i walked and got emotional and runny-nosed. And cold in other ways: by the time we got back, i couldn't feel my legs. I probably shouldn't wear skirts (as opposed to pants, not opposed to nothing) for walking outside in December, but it's not really an option for me anymore. Here is probably where i sigh.

Made cookies today. Frosted them with the Peach Slaves.*

I picked my CHRISTmass "recital" pieces just now, which is sad, since the "recital" is in exactly a week. Ah well. Wading through Advent, CHRISTmass and Epiphany pieces is fun, especially when i play so much pedal the heel of my foot goes to sleep.

The reason it's a "recital" and not just a plain recital is that the "recital" is done at the mall. They hook the piano up to the speaker system and sell hours of time to whoever will perform. It's what we've done the last two years for December recitals.

And now for my slightly-edited-for-those-who-know-me-ish CHRISTmass wishlist, just in case… ;D

  1. Pants!
  2. A long stapler, that can staple a regular-sized piece of paper in the middle
  3. "Tintenblut" by Cornelia Funke, in German (not "Tintenherz")
  4. Or perhaps "Tintentod" by the same author
  5. ‘Willow Run’ by Patricia Reilly Giff
  6. "Enna Burning" by Shannon Hale
  7. A wallet (full if possible)
  8. Who What Where (game)
  9. Killer Bunnies (game)
  10. The New Yorker Cartoon Caption game
  11. Something orange
  12. $1,000,000 (not going to stop trying)
If you must get me jewelry (that sounds conceited), red would be appreciated.

*(not to Fuzzy or Squishy or Denim) Do you know who the Peach Slaves are?

Wednesday, December 05, 2007

My excerpt

If nobody says anything about the excerpt, i'm going to scream and give up editing the story and nobody will ever see any more of it.

Saturday, December 01, 2007


I won. I won i won i won. Ha. Hahahahahahahha.
An excerpt:
Laudo couldn't sleep sometimes, and he often passed hours by watching people in the streets go by. The third time he found Amala going by at midnight he got up and went outside to meet her.
"Are you okay?" She jumped.

"Yes, yes… i'm looking for Altu, you know, one of those flowers best picked at night." She had no gathering basket.

"Amala, about the King," he started.

"What? I'm fine, you know that."

"But not just the king, about the Prince," he said. Small pause. "Edmund."

One sniff. Two. Then came torrents of tears, soaking his sweater. He let her weep for a while, moving them to a small grove of trees.

When her face was relatively dry, he gently asked, "What happened?"

She thought a moment, then: "You know the Queen was barren for many a year? Her husband came to me in the middle of the night to ask for a child. And Queen Snow-White asked for - what else? - golden-yellow hair that grows fast for her child. Who asks for that? Mostly i get requests for healthy children! And hair. What importance is hair? She could've asked that the child will have good eyesight or an unbloodiable nose or- or- something useful. Growing fast. That just makes it worse! You want to trim it each week? What if she wants short hair? And what are you going to do with all that hair, make a ladder?" Laudo positioned himself to hear a lot more of this. "But ask for hair she did, and being a fool, i tried. Not hard, but i tried. Of course she sent but a single hair, probably from her endless trimmings, as she couldn't stand pulling a fresh one. Do you know how hard it is to make a baby from two hairs? It's pretty hard. With most people I'd've demanded a lock more if they want a child, but the King said this was to be secret, and I thought not of this outcome.
"You know Michael was called away urgently the day after Zel- Ed was born? Well, the third day, Her Vain Self came with the Princess and soldiers. She complained of the lack of hair, as though the baby wasn't absolutely beautiful anyway, and she thought greedily of my Edmund. Oh, Ed," and she cried a few minutes more. "I missed him so, after they were switched. I didn't dare do anyting without Michael, and he never came back. The new baby was nothing like Ed. She cried too much and she didn't have a lovely fluffy head and those eyes- but now, now she's my own dear, i'm afraid i love her more than my true child.

"But what am i saying? She is my true child, i wouldn't give her up for anything, not even… not even Ed. He should be happy where he is. They have fresh food to eat at every meal, and never worn-out shoes, and no one dares point and glare. Oh how i wish," she sighed, and stared into space. After a minute or so Laudo cleared his throat and she continued.

"But i was always afraid the Queen would do something, except the King wouldn't let her, surely. But he let her switch the babies. What was she thinking? The fool. He has magic blood in him, likely he'll be a Warlock. And he looks nothing like either Royal Family with their pale skin. He must feel so out of place. But poor Zel, she has not hair. Of course she doesn't, that's what caused so much of this trouble. Hair! I hate hair." And she grabbed handfuls of her own deep brown locks, as though she would tear it out then and there. Laudo said nothing.

"Why Marizel?" He interrupted her thoughts at last.
"I made it up on the spot. Mari- was from Marik, Ed's middle name, and -zel, well… i didn't want her to lose that enirely." She was silent a moment or two.

"How obvious was it? That Zella's not mine. By blood."

"Not very to those who don't know you. We always suspected something, but we're well brought up about those who don't look like family." Laudo had three boys who looked nothing like him.

The sun started to come up over the horizon.

"I best be off," said Laudo. "The bread needs put in the oven."

"And i had better get back before the Princess Rapunzel wakes."

"The Princess…"

"The Princess."

Friday, November 30, 2007

Saturday, November 10, 2007


This is a test. If you are able, please comment. Thank you.

Thursday, November 08, 2007

Color coordination? What's that?

Purple striped shirt, grey skirt, blue socks, brown belt.

Brown belt. And not in the buckle way.

Today after Jujutsu (Martial Art) Shihan (that's teacher) Rick told me to come upstairs and join the adult class for five minutes. We went upstairs, but had to wait five minutes already for the weight-lifting people to get out. I commented that it looked boring, just lifting heavy stuff.

Now i've been a blue belt for quite a while. The belts go white, blue, green, three degrees of brown, ten degrees of black. I know why i wasn't getting a green belt, or at least i'm reasonably positive i know. It's because of this one type of roll i couldn't get, because every time i tried it, without fail, i'd hurt my back. (This may sound funny at my age, but i have a badish back. I hurt it often enough in Jujutsu. I hurt it last Thursday. We were doing flying kicks and i landed wrong, my ankle kind of twisted underneath me - it's fine now - and i landed hard and probably jarred my spine or something. Ugh.) But i finally got the roll a few weeks ago. I'm sure i'm a first degree brown belt.

I'm listening to "random" songs. Hehe.

Friday, November 02, 2007

can't stop smiling

So guess who had almost half a glass of wine to celebrate Mom's birthday and the S.s' new house?

Thursday, November 01, 2007

All Hallow's Eve

Ah, what a Lutheran Feast Day that is. Yes, i know that was yesterday. Did you know Martin Luther put them up on October 31 because the next day was All Saints' Day (used to be All Hallows' Day) and he know everybody was going to be in church the next day? (i can almost hear all of you nodding Yes, I know, but of course i can't hear you because i'm writing this now you and you will read this later, or in your case, the current now)

To a couple candy-givers (i still Trick-or-Treat) i said, "Happy Reformation Day!" My favorite reaction was the lady who said "oh," quietly and backed up slightly.

But as Pastor G. pointed out in his sermon last night, we don't celebrate Reformation Day. We don't say, "Ha, we know the truth and those Roman Catholics don't!" We never rejoice that people don't know the right things. We're happy for our knowing, but we mourn for those who don't. We pray for them (Yes, M, i pray for you and L, and your family), and try to preach the Gospel, and in the meantime sing several hymns.

On that note, there's no feeling like the one you get when you've just received your Lord and Saviour's Body and Blood, and you're kneeling up there in the Sacrestry (spelcheck says Tapestrying), and Pastor says, "The body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ strengthen and preserve you in body and soul to life everlasting. Depart † in peace." (LSB 199) while 31 people somewhere behind you are singing At the Lamb's High Feast We Sing in tune. And loudly, in a good way. (that one's LSB 633)

And don't be surprised i listened to the sermon. It's insulting.

And somebody please comment!

Saturday, October 20, 2007


Mrs. H, who in the bloggerworld goes by *gasp* Karin tagged me

The rules of this are:

  1. Link the person who has tagged you.
  2. Tell seven truths about yourself.
  3. Tag seven new people.
  4. Leave a message with the person you have tagged so they know about it.
Seven truths about myself:
  1. Cary Grant is sitting not four feet away from me
  2. I cannot stand ants
  3. I like avocados and canned mushrooms partly for their slimy feel
  4. I know how say at least two words in Japanese, owing to a Japanese ex-neighbor
  5. I believe the number 5 is cursed, or at least not a good number
  6. I have seen a live Broadway production of Chicago and liked it
  7. My eyes are the worst of anybody i know, excluding my Dad, and they're worse than his were when he was my age, and i'm proud of it

I tag Lydia, Light Sucker, Ethan, Paul, Zeke, Rebekah (if she decides to update), and

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Set of time-consuming, worthless quizes

You are 53% English.

Getting there. You may wish to pay attention to the world around you.

"And did those feet
In ancient times,
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
In England's pleasant pastures seen?"

Well, no, but it's a cracking good tune.

How English are you?
Create a Quiz

Oh well. But the funny thing is, in real life i'm only about 6% English. Or something.

Which Incredibles Character Are You?

Ha, didn't you know it?

Am I cool or uncool? [CLICK]
You are Super-Cool!
Woah! Step back - the future's so bright for you it's blinding me! You are the coolest of the cool. Everyone looks up to you as the benchmark for being coooool. The fonze was your grandfather. Any cooler and you'd freeze! WOO it's chilly in here.
Cool quizzes at

And i knew that one.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

A born teacher?

Maybe he is growing up… a little…

First of all, did you know i teach piano lessons? Sort of. (i don't get paid, but it's fun.) I started August 31. Teaching Oly'Anna S..* First of all, she's smrt.** You know fingerings and ups*** and downs**** and all that? She got that, no problem. (Some [nobody who reads my blog or related to one who does] of my Mom's students have trouble with that, and i have no idea how! It's just not as hard as all that!)

But anyway, the fact is that i teach weekly.

And then last Monday we had our usual church schedule, which began with Children's Choir (i'm still in it - for the sake of the choir, i say) practice. But Mom had opened the garage door when we were leaving, and forgot that that would set off the alarm. She ran home to tell the police that it's all right, and i started choir practice. Hm. Well. I don't think i'm all that ready for teaching a choir yet. I'd rather sit in the back and know all the answers. All i could do was open to the hymn***** and get them to sign the first two stanzas. Them Mom got back and took over, which made it a lot better, though everybody else said i did a wonderful job.

My last teaching position was yesterday. At the H.'s, doing biology (with Erik H., Matthew H., and Nick S.), Mrs. S. (teacher) had to take most of her kids home, and Matthew and i were the only one who'd done the On Your Own 3.1, and i'm older.****** So i showed The Icks (Erik and Nick [IckIck and NickIck]) how it was done, and today Mrs. S. was telling me all about how NickIck was praising my good job, calling me a "born teacher."

A born teacher? I don't think there is such a thing. You could be a born bossy person. But teaching isn't an instinct. But it is a talent… and both my parents are teachers. But i was raised by them. So is it inherited or did i learn by watching my parents? I'm inclined (partially from my choir experience) to say it was watching my parents. Is that how i got musical too? And my love of reading? And obscure facts?******* I've also been told to lead JuJitsu once in a while when Mr. H. (different one) is busy, and when Scottie isn't there, since he's older and higher ranked than me. Though shorter. And oh so annoying. Worse than zAaron AND the Icks!

But i digress. The teaching thing is part of learning JuJitsu, so that isn't singling me out.

I guess i never really thought of Nick as getting older. Except now he's almost as tall as me. Which, by the way, is wrong. People don't grow taller than me. I grow taller than them sometimes. That's just the way everything works. However, Erik recently grew taller than me, but i let it slide since he's technically a little older.

Digression again.

So maybe Nick is getting more mature too… that would be interesting.

The plot thickens!

*Pastor's sixth
**S-M-R-T smrt!
***NOT United Parcel Service
****NOT Demented Orthodontist Whacks Nick S.
*****TLH 25
******These things are fun to use!
*******That one is just my Dad.

Sunday, September 30, 2007


I wrote this (mostly) at the scene.

"The first thing we saw was smoke. Thick, black smoke fills the sky still. Huge and suffocating, I imagine, but - the building is mostly collapsed now - but the wind is taking it away.

It's still there, the fire. I know what they really mean by 'leaping flames' now. They're pouring water all over it, but the fire still goes higher than the buildings next to it. Now they're spraying those ones, so they don't catch it.

I'm about a block away, but I feel the heat on my face and arms, just like sitting close to the campfire, but not so happy.

It was a lumber yard. All that wood. Gone.

We got there before the fire trucks, even. I wonder how big the fire got before someone called it in. A lumber yard on Sunday morning, in a non-residential area, nobody was there, most likely. Well, that's a blessing. And it was only that one building that caught. Probably the smoke tipped whoever it was off. The black smoke of a fire left alone to burn."

[note: I would like to say the fire was red, reminiscent of blood (it's poetic), but it wasn't. It was orange, orange, beautiful and terrible and i couldn't keep my eyes off, sad though it was. We went back last night, Vati and me, but now it's just black things on the ground, and bits of broken glass, and two poles still standing up from the ground like the only survivors. Which they were. Why did i put a simile there? Hm.]

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Happy Birthday!!!

Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday dear Sita!
Happy birthday to you!

Yupyup, my first (and so far only) niece and Goddaughter turned a year old this morning at 5:03 AM, and we're still four and a half hours away from each other.

This is your birthday song!
It isn't very long!

Monday, September 17, 2007

Day of sun

I just got finished stuffing seven school subjects and a leisure book into my brand new, orange bookbag. That's science (biology), math (algebra), Deutsch (German), literature, writing, grammar and piano.

Why am i so quick to abuse my wonderfuzzly colored book transporter? Because i actually want to use it, and i'm going to the G.'s (Pr. G. is our Assistant Pastor) tomorrow, from 8-5, and that means all my school. Well, it's be a change. We're doing it so i won't be all alone all the time. They have only 5 children (all girls), names and ages will possibly be posted later, when spellings and such are confirmed.

So, after church yesterday, we had an RLA thing. Resurrection Lutheran Academy was opening a new school, and Mom and Dad and Nat and Anna and Erik and i were all in the adult choir for their "ceremony," and Prs. S. and G. were both there too, along with a couple other people from our congregation. They called it a ceremony, although it was technically a service. Even though they handed out "programs" instead of bulletins, and the sermon didn't have the Law or the Gospel, didn't hear Christ and Him crucified for me, only anecdotes, and the Old Testament and Epistle were read by kids, one of them a girl, and afterwards we all (excluding a few Emmausites) sang "Allelu, allelu, allelu, alleluia!" and then the new principal got up and talked forever.

Later Mom and i ran errends, and saw a world-class pianist live (So-and-so Svietske or something, very Russian) (maybe more on him later), and roadkill, and i got my bookbag.

Friday, September 14, 2007


I heard a… funny conversation the other day. I was at ICE, where we have Jujitsu, but they also have a lot of cheerleaders:

Two girls passed me. One was telling a story:

"Omygosh, like, omygosh! I can't believe she, like, said that! Omygosh. And she just said, like, "Omygosh!'"

Other girl:


No exaggeration. I wrote it down exactly as i heard it. I didn't look up. I was having trouble enough not laughing loud, i couldn't keep a straight face.

And then when i run into little eight-year-old cheerleaders/tumblers while i'm wearing my gi (Martial Arts uniform), they all say, "Woah!" with really wide eyes, and back away slowly.

How often do normal people cry?

This is a post a little late getting out (don't comment).

Last Friday i cried twice, but i'm not worried.

First i cut an onion.


I was in the kitchen, trying to make rice pilaf (it came out fine. It was the roast i had to worry about.), when i heard a loud THUMP and Sita's (she was visiting) crying.

I ran to the stairs, and she was standing on the landing, face screwed up and red, screaming hard. She took a tiny step. (She can hardly take anything else, her legs are pretty short.)

"Sita, NO!" I yelled, and was halfway up when she took another step - and fell, face forward. The back of her head hit, and she flipped (like doing a somersault), and landed in my arms.

I held her tight and she screamed in my ear.

I walked up the stairs. (Why up? I don't know) I got to the top of the stairs when Mrs. Kavouras came out of Nat's room and took her. I went back down.

Naomi came running and said, "What happened?"

"Sita fell down the stairs,"

"What was she doing near the stairs?" She ran there.

I just shook my head. Or maybe i said that i didn't know. I don't remember. (Once again, don't comment.)

How often does this type of thing happen? How did she get up the stairs in the first place? Hm. And no, i wasn't slacking off in watching her.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

Friday, August 17, 2007


Old, but:
You Are Destined to Rule the World

You have the makings of a very evil dictator...
Which is both kind of cool and kind of scary!
Will you rule the world? Maybe. Maybe not.
But at least you know that you could.

And remember, i've never been there.
You Are 52% Texas

At first, you seem Texan... but just because a chicken has wings don't mean it can fly.

Sunday, August 12, 2007


Boys are a bit humorous sometimes.

Me: Your face!
Anna: Yeah? Well, your face!
Me: Both our faces!
Nick: Huh?

Cecilia: I know how to play Killer Bunnies!
Matthew, after explaining it quite inadequately to Bekah: But Cecilia learned from Martin, and sometimes Martin doesn't explain it very clearly.

Me: Martin, why did you write your name backwards on your cup?
Martin: Oh, nobody's supposed to notice. They'll just think it's the right way.

(A while ago, when husking corn)
Martin: Why can Maggie husk corn so much faster than me?
Maggie: Maybe i husk corn more often.
Martin: But I bike more!

Sunday, August 05, 2007

Why Anna should remain listless

4:31 PM FuzzyAnan*: Is it mini or nano?** I'm confuseded.

23 minutes
4:54 PM me***: Mini, i think.
FuzzyAnan: Why are you yelling about it?
4:55 PM me: I'm gloating.
FuzzyAnan: Where did you go during Bible study?
I see....
me: Home.
I didn't feel good.
4:56 PM FuzzyAnan: I don't/didn't feel good either.
me: Pooah you.
FuzzyAnan: To find the cow!****
4:57 PM To kill the giant!
me: To sell a friend!
FuzzyAnan: I don't think these are the words!
me: To go to the festival!
To Grandmother's house!
4:58 PM FuzzyAnan:
4:59 PM me: No, i don't think they actually say "Into the woods to sell a friend!", but i'm sure the others are said.
5:00 PM FuzzyAnan: So... whatcha been doin?
me: Watching Into the woods.
FuzzyAnan: Besides that. :-E
5:01 PM me: Checking my magnanimous e-mail.
5:02 PM Taking pies out of the oven.
FuzzyAnan: Wow! Action!
me: Trying to print Sita pictures.
FuzzyAnan: Wow! Not-so action!
me: Me headache.
5:03 PM FuzzyAnan: Me tummyache
me: Me tummyache too.
FuzzyAnan: We giggle hurt.
5:04 PM Me ickle brother crying.
Me has lot to clean.
me: So you're giggling at your four year old brother's misery?
FuzzyAnan: No.
5:05 PM me: I swept and swiffered the kitchen floor.
FuzzyAnan: Me in too much pain to react to teasing.
me: Thus assuring my place in heaven (JOKE).
FuzzyAnan: Self mortification!
5:06 PM me: Justification.
FuzzyAnan: Me doing self mortification.
5:07 PM Not having taken pain killer yet.
me: Oh.
Then i guess i am too.
Me no pain killed either.
5:08 PM FuzzyAnan: Me hope no one see what we say.*****
Me think scandalous we are.
me: Me think lazy we are.
5:09 PM FuzzyAnan: Me think we getting out of work we are.
Me think me Yoda-talk be really bad.
5:11 PM Me think you have to read Pastor's comment on my Life Planners post right away!
me: Me think me grammar ith terribler than it should be.
FuzzyAnan: Sorry if we overdid it, Anan, but I'm relieved to know that you're not cranky about it. Of course, planning your life for you would have been much simpler if Mrs. Stuckwisch and I had been given another son between Zachary and Nicholai. Alas, it was not to be. But never fear, we do just happen to have any number of good friends with sons of the appropriate age, and it's only a matter of time before the right match becomes obvious. Who knows, you may even get this figured out on your own before we do No sense taking chances, though. Since we have the advantage of knowing what an amazing young lady you are, it seems only right that we assist you by identifying well-suited young men from good homes and families. We're making a list and checking it twice.
5:13 PM me: That's terrifying!
You're listfull!******
FuzzyAnan: I know!
5:14 PM AaaahhhH!!!!!!!!
me: Ha, but you're two years older than i am.
My list won't come till 2009 or so.
FuzzyAnan: Wwaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!
5:15 PM
me: Nyaaa!
FuzzyAnan: Do you promise to help me survive?
5:16 PM NyaaaaaaaaaaaaAAA!!!!
me: How?
FuzzyAnan: I don't knwo if I can hold up on my own...
me: I could tell tales on you!
FuzzyAnan: Moral support.
me: And the boys would want to be off your list!
FuzzyAnan: Tales! Bad ones!
5:17 PM I'm only one girl!
me: It's okay Naan, they won't like you at all.
FuzzyAnan: Phew!
me: Let's see…
FuzzyAnan: I have a picture of me in a trash can! Would that help!
5:18 PM me: When you get frustrated, you throw eggs.
FuzzyAnan: LOG
me: That would help tons.
FuzzyAnan: LOG
me: Ooh!
You're scandalous!
FuzzyAnan: I grow horns out the sides of my head.
me: Self mortification and such!
FuzzyAnan: Yeah!
5:19 PM I treid to make my brother drink sunscreen!
me: You'll make him wake up at all hours of the night to take pictures of sunscreen!
FuzzyAnan: What?
me: Whoops.
FuzzyAnan: Yeah.
me: Or sunscreen. I could say that too.
5:20 PM FuzzyAnan: I really good at glaring.
me: Sunscreen dresses.
FuzzyAnan: Me face will get stuck that way...
Knife dresses!
me: Ooh, this is great material.
[Whatever he doesn't like] dresses!
FuzzyAnan: I might post this chat on me blog...
5:21 PM Hehehe. (as Aaroon would say)
me: And me on mine.
FuzzyAnan: I have five brothers and I know what boys are really like.
5:22 PM Anti-popularity publicity!
5:24 PM Jonathan Franck could be my brother if anything happened to my parents. Who would want to be related to him?
me: I'm going to see Pr. Stuckwisch tonight. Should i tell him some of this?
FuzzyAnan: If I post on my blog he'll read about it.
me: You write indulgences!
FuzzyAnan: I do!
me: Me too!
Me too!
5:25 PM FuzzyAnan: I make messes and laugh about them!
5:26 PM I'm O negative.
5:27 PM I don't cross myself for "for thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory".'
me: You laugh Lots Of Zaaroon Giggles!
5:28 PM I'm not a fan of Texas. Just to be contrary.
me: I been sent to spread the message - bum bum bum - God blessed Texas!
5:29 PM FuzzyAnan: I have wart scars all over my right hand...
me: You like to house vicious bunnies.
FuzzyAnan: My hair bites peeple.
me: You'll draw a picture of him as a misshapen peach.
FuzzyAnan: I call people names like "Peep" and "Bump Head".
5:30 PM LOG!
me: And "Untasty Pastry".*******
FuzzyAnan: And "Weenie!"
5:31 PM I've got a Bible, I'm born again, I got a shotgun ain't afraid to sin!
me: Well, it's time to go.
5:32 PM FuzzyAnan: I ain't got hardly no none grammar skills.
me: You keep thinking these.
FuzzyAnan: Ok.
Into the woods to kill the list!
me: 'excuses!

*FuzzyAnan = Anan (the Fuzzy).
**My "Custom Message" was "Ipod mini, ipod mini!"
***Me = Me.
****I had just changed it to "Into the woods!"
******Meaning she has a List of future husbands. As opposed to me, who remains (as far as i know), blissfully (no offense) Listless.
*******Untasty Pastry = Twinkie.