vague recollections

-I have an absolute ton to write about today, so if you don't have time for this, please refrain from reading this, since I don't want to be responsible for anything bad(actually, I don't really feel like being responsible for anything in my tired, jet-lagged, sorry state- I very much would like to go to bed, especially after I almost fell asleep where I stood while passing the sacrament and had to regain what was left of my composure in front of what I'm sure were many mental "boo, kid- BOO!"'s.). As you can see, this might also prove to be too weighty and dull for anyone to read.

-On that cheerful note, I would like to continue going through the motions. Thanks for all your comments, by the way- it's always been a little frustrating to hear that someone read your blog,but didn't know what to say, hence obliterating all proof that they actually took anything in after all. Even if you have nothing to say or think you might have something to say but fear that it might be terribly insulting, you can always just give it a try and see just what my reaction is. And, even if I am terribly insulted, chances are that I appreciate it anyway and do not quite want to throttle you, even if I do tell you that I'm never talking to you again.

-I know you've all been waiting for an editorial on my trip with Uncle nige(or at least everyone I've seen lately wants to hear)Also, keep in mind that I haven't written much for a long time, so this is really just me getting it all out of my system. Here goes:

On Thursday, I get home needing to do the route, homework, and also having not thought a single bit about packing or preparing for the trip. I rushed through the route, my homework, and then got to the packing. I had to copy an entire chapter out of my health book, and another 20 or so pages of Saxon math. I then proceeded to find all of my clothes, toiletries, and miscellaneous junk. I had been talking to mom earlier and she had told me that luggage that you checked was likely to dissipate, so I packed my homework, my books, the contents of my underwear/sock drawer, all my toiletry stuff, and my suit into my little backpack- I didn't know that suits wrinkled prior to leaving and Uncle Nigel let out a gasp of horror at what I had done(luckily, the suit is pure polyester and almost bulletproof) to my poor suit. The suit was fine, and I am sure that that was the least of it's overall ordeals. I then stuffed all my clothes that were fit to wear in public into the little suitcase that I got from Grandma when I was just turning 3. I had to jump on it to get my Sunday shoes in. Then Dad puts my vacuum-packed baggage into the car, and we zoom over to Grandma's. Grandma, Grandpa, and I take the Highlander to Spokane for the night and get a hotel room there. We wait throughout the night for 4:45 A.M. to come around.
On Friday, I go to the airport, register along with the long line of grumpy people, take all my stuff off, get patted down by a groggy-yet-gruff customs official, and...sit for half an hour. Then, I fly to Rochester. I'm skipping an entire day here, so I will tell you the most interesting part of the day, this being when an elderly African-American man took me to the basement. I sat in the basement while two other elderly people chatted with him in an unrecognizable language. Then they took me to an abandoned bus on the flight ground and drove us all to my gate. It was a strange experience, being on the flight ground, although it did not make me want to work there- it looked extremely boring. Come to think of it, it also looked like there was nothing actually going on, just a bunch of people driving around and yelling at nobody in particular about nothing in particular. When I got to Rochester, it was just having it's first snow and looked pretty, especially from the airplane when we were on the final approach. Uncle Nigel, gillian, and Jonathan were waiting for me at the airport. We drove to Aunt Gillian's, and I thought they had a great apartment, according to my experience with apartments, which is closer to nil than I'm usually willing to admit. I slept on the couch.
On Saturday, we went to all the church history sites. I don't really have much to say on this topic, except for that I wondered how there could be any sweet birds singing in the sacred grove- it's pretty darn cold there. Otherwise, the only things that they don't all talk about s the printer's shop. They made me realize there that printing just one book was extremely tedious, painstaking work to be doing- especially in the hot summer hours.
On Sunday, we realized that we needed to get out on the roads ASAP to beat the snow. We do, and listen to the first Saturday session of last General Conference on the way to Vermont. I really don't remember what we did after that, so I'll skip to the next day.
On Monday, I waited at home while Uncle Nige did his interview at Dartmouth. Then, we went to the Dartmouth campus, looked at where he interviewed, and then went to a chocolate store nestled into the side of a mini mall. It turned out that the lady's family had been running chocolate stores in England for generations. We got some chocolate, then went to Ben & Jerry's. Then, we went to go find an art school to see if there was an attached museum- there wasn't. after that, we went to this rather enticing store called the Price Chopper. It lived up to it's name, selling seafood dip for only 99 cents and shrimp for only six bucks a dish. We bought up to half our limits, then brought it all home and chowed down while watching half of Gettysburg. I was too full to eat my shrimp, but otherwise we had a great time.
On Tuesday, we drove to Portland. We went to the hotel, which had a marginal view of the sea, among many other perks. We went outside to case the joint, walked stiffly around, and then went back inside. After that, we simply crashed onto our beds for the night.
On Wednesday, we went to the art museum right next to our hotel. It had a variety of things, including Picasso and a little Monet. When we were done there,we walked again out into the wild dirty white yonder. We walked all the way to the waterfront, then walk(again, very stiffly because of overpowering wind and cold) into the restaurant. It was a great place, with plenty of business even in the off season. I named the lobster Bob, after our server. Our server was very friendly, and was the one who showed us how to eat lobster. I ordered shrimp, and Uncle Nige got two lobsters, one Bob and the other remaining anonymous as it was the one I had to eat. We ate the lobster, which I'm sure was the freshest lobster you can get. I liked it and the shrimp, although it's hard not to look at poor Bob as you're chewing. Afterwards, we were walking home and happened upon a Cold Stone Creamery, one of those places where they add in all the condiments right in front of you. It was great ice cream, even if it did taste like Bob. After eating our monster-sized Bob-flavored ice creams, we walked home in the slush and fell asleep.
On Thursday, we drove to Burlington, Vermont after Uncle Nigel's interview at Maine Medical center. We also went to dinner with the current residents in Burlington. I learned much in the way of residency that night, and also found out that I like Cajun spices on chicken.
On Friday, Uncle Nige went to his interview. By the time he was done, it was already the afternoon.We started out driving at about noon, visited the Joseph Smith Birthplace-did you know that the largest polished pillar of granite in the world is located there as a monument? And that they put it up in 1904?- we then drove for a while more, ate, and drove again to Rochester. On the way, we saw a city sign labeled, "Scott's Sweets" and "Stewart's candy". We laughed a bit about that once we got to the Bowman's house, then I said goodbye and went to bed.
On Saturday, I got up at four and went over the whole ordeal once again. My parents picked me up, zoomed me over to Pullman, gathered all the kids together, attended Eric's baptism, then rushed to Moscow to make potatoes for the Ward Christmas Party. We went to the party, dragged ourselves back while half asleep, and whit the sack completely exhausted.

-So there you have it- my entire week, laid out in front of you. It was all a bit hazy in my head, so it's not in perfect chronological order, but I'm sure you're too tired of my writing to really care. Thanks for reading my blog, and again, please comment!

The Uncle Nigel Trip: BOOM, BOOM, BOOM

-Sorry about that small(large) lapse in blogging- I've been working overtime for my mom, who has turned out to be an evil employer, hungry for poor boys that need money, in disguise. I've been having a great time during thanksgiving weekend, especially since we won the rose bowl. I also think we were all pretty happy when we found that the Campbells would be coming and that we would not, after all, have only 18 people attending the Thanksgiving feast at grandma's. We(Campbell kids, Mumford kids, & Dixon kids) are also proud to say that we unlocked 2 party games while waiting for the Apple Cup.

-I'm on what is known now as 'the big trip', and am having a good time so far. As it turns out, Delta has a program for unaccompanied minors that has people to escort you(rather forcibly) to the next gate. My mom thought that the personnel would be a bit too overloaded/stressed and might forget all about escorting somebody. They went against all doubts, however, and were there waiting for me, smiling their special tight-lipped airline attendant smiles and ready to go. It seemed like they weren't doing much of anything and the reason that they were stressed was nothing in particular, but since I'm just an ignorant layman, I'm sure I missed something. The Bowmans seem to be doing well over here in Rochester, and I'm having a good time, too. It looks like I'll be traveling more these three months than my mom has for quite some time. Well, I'm glad I've been able to blog right now, so hi from Rochester & I'll end with a jaunty tip of the hat. Toodledoo!

Winter

-Ah, winter, the season of Costco replacement snow tires, exploding pipes, frozen paperboys who forgot their coats at school and are consequently skidding down the Jones' hill at high speeds in their dad's old sweatshirt with holes in the pocket, collecting injuries & cops with ordinance fees as they go, and(sigh) it's also the time of year when we rush around in a frenzy, dumping our money into large pits(our friends, neighbors, & people with lots of money that we hate but would like to make a good impression on) in the name of spreading joy to people that don't even notice because they're too busy spreading joy to other people(or they're on vacation in Jamaica). After Christmas is my favorite time of year , since you can kick back & relax with all your Christmas stuff, with not a care in the world but going to whatever Wazzu basketball games there are, hoarding/eating/stealing candy, and planning cool things to do on New Year's Eve/the rest of the time we'll be staying at Gma & Gpa's house- which will be a whole lot less cramped with the banquet room, I'm excited to see what it will be like with it.

-On an entirely different note, Jared has now become closely acquainted with the feeling that comes- whatever that feeling may be- with having close to the same experiences as Donald Davis(if you've never heard his tapes, do so- they keep kids quiet & they are, at times, immensely funny.) which is to say that he had the words, 'he's gonna have to have... braces... save your money for...braces...' coming from tooth specialists all around. As it turns out, Jared is just one of a long line of class 2 bites- which means...braces...for Jared.

-Sorry I'm late to blog- it's just that I had strep throat yesterday and had to retire to the sack early.

- Today, I started Art(an elective that comes automatically with shop- I did it for the art half), and I think my art teacher would be third on the list that I posted earlier- though as John Bytheway says, sometimes they start nice and get meaner later on. I also am entering the second quarter, and am happy to report that so far in the quarter I have straight A's. I am so good!

Trunk-R-Treat: Halloween Game 1

-Well, I guess you could say this is a very up-and-down season for the Cougars, and I'm sorry I couldn't come to the Big Game- though this was, of course, due to all the LHWB(Long Hours of Work in the Backyard)- to supply a flash funding for what has become known here in the Dixon household as the Uncle Nigie Trip- and also due to the Trunk-R-Treat cardboard maze(more on that later). I also regret that I won't be there to watch the Cougs play the Dawgs in the Rose Bowl- though I will be doing the third best thing, which is listening to it on the radio.

- Just a random thought from the Seth department: Isn't it strange how all the bad stuff that happens to the Deacons while passing the sacrament that everybody seems bound to notice just slips right over your head when you're 1-11 years old? I think it is, anyway.

-Back on subject now. This All Hallows Eve(don't you love to say that?), the Deacon's Quorum carried out on something- a very rare thing, since most things on the calender actually happen a month later(I'm the secretary, I should know)- and made a 30 square foot cardboard maze complete with dead ends, flashing lights, strange gooshy things scattered around the maze, a Dummies' Grave(a passage that goes in a circle), little doors on the top to reach in & grab the people coming through, and places for us to hide & scare little kids(we did this in just 2 hours- we had a pretty good turnout on that). I called it Game 1 because it really does seem to be made up of rounds, made up of costume parties & the like, and a knockout round(Halloween) after which the parents snap and take away the costumes & loot until next year, when they are feeling better and the memories have faded. Then, the whole thing starts all over again.

-Thanks for reading, & I should have some good stories next time- As Uncle Nigel says(and maybe others, though I have no experience of this), stay tuned.

The Reds win again

-Well, a pretty brutal game from Everton(one yellow card, two red cards) but a better one from Liverpool, I guess- although to see the article, you would've thought that Everton won. The author is obviously a fan. Here's hoping this is a break to all those ties...

-Anyway, I was thinking(on my route, of course- that's also the time when I ponder the mysteries of the universe, though I have not come up with any theories.) and I decided not just to include my opinions in this post, but also try to work in some of my life. We'll see how this works. I guess a lot of my free time is spent either playing outside or following the Reds, but this week the Deacon's quorum is making that spook house I told you about two weeks ago. As it turns out, we are very, very, very lucky- the leader has an in-law with property right next to the parking lot where we're doing the Trunk-R-Treat- and who has kindly obliged to let us set the cardboard contraption(we're using about twelve refrigerator boxes and five wardrobe boxes) up there. I'm also helping with an eagle project today at nine(am- whew!) and my dad is probably also hoping to incorporate me into the big dig(the drainage system to stop the basement flooding again) today, though I don't think I'm going to do it this week for want of watching the Liverpool game that Aunt T has recorded.

-I've also been thinking about towels(great subject, huh?). Caroline is a nut on decision-making when it comes to towels, as is Miriam and my mom. They think a good towel shows your personality- Dad's, a GAP towel, sports his college days; Mom's towel, a fuzzy purple one, shows her indifference to money beside comfort(at least, this was the case three years ago); mine, varying from towel to towel(I just grab one out of the towel drawer), shows that I really don't care; Jared's is an NFL towel, obviosly stating the fact that he is a fanatic; Miriam's is a white princess towel, as is Caroline's(I really can't put my finger on what this means); etc., etc. Well, I guess that was a sort of dumb subject, but I had to get it out.

-And now te comic relief- Jacob. This week at the store, he had two quarters to spend. You know the Shel Silverstein poem- the casheir gave him three pennies back, and later, my mom overheard him later, saying that "I tricked that funny man at the store. hee, hee."

-This week in Hellth, we learned about phobias, such as hydrophobia- the fear of water- or octophobia- the fear of the figure eight. I just thought it was funny that someone can be afraid of that stuff. If you know any that are funnier than that, please tell me.

-And I'd just like to say thanks to Grandpa & Grandma for 'Kon-Tiki'- it's really helped in terms of reading goals and my English teacher's good list.

-Also, on the link title for Jared's blog: Jared has eight blogs, seven of which he has no password for. End of story.

strange questions

-Hello, and welcome to Seth-land! I hope you will enjoy my latest thoughts that I've just now written down and broadcast all around the world. Here we go:

-I shall now report the two funniest things that happened today from funniest to least funny. First, I stapled my finger. Really. I was sitting around, being an absolute nuisance, when my mom thought up something for me to do. "Hey, Seth,"she yelled. "Could you fix this stapler?" I looked at the stapler. It was jammed. "OK, Mom," I said, opening it up, popping the staple out with a pen, and promptly putting my finger over the output and closing the staple compartment. There's this one really, really, really dumb thing about staplers that you see and then laugh about because it could seriously injure you someday, and that is that to close the staple compartment, you have to push the metal thing all the way down- and a staple comes out when you do. End of story. It's surprisingly painless, until it starts hurting. Second, I found a note in our recycling bin -when about to take the recycling/trash stuff back into the garage- along with a bunch of those big Costco animal cracker jars-one of them squished and mangled. Fearing that our trash man had developed anger issues and needed to be referred to a counseling center, I read the note. It said, "Sorry, won't fit in truck". Har, har! Funny, huh?

-After numerous debates among various members of our family on what the new baby's name should be, I am here to stop the madness. Anyone know a really good boy name that neither my mom nor my dad will not completely hate? Any name that I haven't thought of would help.

-Hey, out there, could you comment on my blog? I know it seems like a waste of time, but I need something to do-though if my mom has told you about the cute way I check on my blog every 2 seconds, I don't need something to do quite that badly.

-I've been thinking lately, and I've come up with a few strange questions that I can't come up with answers for. Here they are, along with small editorials here and there:

#1: How did our primitive ancestors come up with smoking? As John Bytheway puts it, maybe it went something like this:
'Hey, Bill,' yells a primitive ancestor. 'Hey, look at this plant.' He takes a bite of it. 'Hey, I feel funny!' He then sets it on fire, carves a pipe for it, and puts it into his mouth so that he can 'feel funny' all the time.

#2: When and under what mental incapabilities did someone invent a bad word for poop and a bad word for pee? You might as well say 'poop' instead of getting in deep trouble just to be tough at the same time as stating that you must use the porcelain.

#3: Why do we lie? All it does is make us more and more cautious, and then you can't do anything at all, including talk, while you analyze what someone just said to see if you think they might be telling a whopper. It also makes us so darn mad at each other-! I think being mad is turning into one of Satan's most successful tools- as my mom points out during scripture study, look at what happened to the Lamanites when they got mad- their population is decimated, they retreat into the depths of the Land of Nephi, and they are nice and humble doing their little wicked things over there until somebody comes to stir them up again. Same story with the Palestinians- stop being too mad to think and leave that desolate little piece of land to the Israeli's and move somewhere else, for heaven's sake!

#4: How does a speedometer work? Okay, okay, this one is a simple one- compared to the rest- and no, I do not want a lecture on this one. In fact, if you're tempted to give me a science lecture, just pretend I never said it and I'll probably delete it in time.


From here, it only gets worse, so I'm cutting it off at that! (As I say, applause is appropriate at this time.)

goodwill

- Hi, folks! I'm back-yes, that guy you keep hoping will forget to blog- Almost as much as you hope that one guy named Al with 8671/2 pierces stuck into his right ear to forget to come to your party. Moooovving on...

-Today Jared and I were tossed downstairs to do a deep clean of our room. I must say, this subject has been rather mired down by advertising jingles, dumb jokes, and homework poems/stories, so I won't dwell on it long. We proceeded to take down our mattresses and dismantle the bed frame so we could take it out of our room. We concluded that we didn't really need to move the bed shortly after the frame gave an unsettling crack and a screw protruded out of the wood. After putting it more or less together and pounding in the unruly screw, we looked at the bed and decided to have 2 beds- that way, I wouldn't have such a long way to fall and Jared didn't have an ominous weight hanging over him. Anyway, we cleaned the room thoroughly, waited for the unruly buggers to sneak out of the trash bags and buckets of 'put-away stuff', and cleaned the room thoroughly again, this time putting everything into the Goodwill pile. Take one look at the pile, and you know that the Goodwill people must have an awful lot of goodwill. I am now waiting for the smart unruly buggers to mess everything up again.

-I'm glad to be the first to spill the beans: My mom is having a boy! No more Barbies! No more Polly Pockets! Above all, no more uber-expensive crappy plastic designer clothes;^)-! I swear, you can just hear Mom's budget sighing in relief.

-I must report that I am saddened at the Cougars performance on the football field, though I guess I have no control whatsoever over that. However, as Uncle Nigel said, it's a good thing we're a basketball school.

-Today, I took another step towards that far-off notion of becoming a grown-up: I just now figured out that the real fun of Halloween is not in toiling up the hill to old Mrs. Hicks' house, It's in staying home and making a spook house for the Trunk-R-Treat. That way, you can just eat your favorite candy that your parents bought anyway and make little kids hide in their candy buckets(they're big enough; I once saw a kid whose costume was a candy bucket with 2 holes drilled in the bottom for his legs and duct tape holding it up.). It's 'fun'.

Lawnmowing and Mr. Ugly: the unaccredited farce

-It looks like I'm back. My last blog was sort of pointless, so today we have an actual story for the title story. I think I'm getting the hang of Blogging, so my blogs will probably become increasingly duller and duller until one of you guys works up the nerve to tell me that I'm getting a little rusty. Anyway, see what you think:

-We are still trying to include Kai in our prayers, and all of us are hoping. Again, don't give up hope, Scott & co.!

-I shall now try to begin to explain to you in plain words(I wanted a live video feed, but my dang mom shut the whole operation down with my mouse over the button labeled 'BUY*'. The total cost -yes, camera and everything- would have cost (L)2,569.99.Okay, maybe that's a little bit of an exaggeration and okay, maybe I'm going a bit overboard with this, but there you go. Anyway, here it is:



-8:30 and time to coax Mr. ugly out of his lair. I crawl slowly through the uber-expensive equipment/cheap junk piled around this holy grail of ugly lawnmowers, talking calmly and reassuringly, saying things like 'Mr. Uuugly...' a growl issues from the center of his fortress. I find him. Though I have witnessed this sight many times, I can not resist shuddering. Grease-n-grass encases the entire upper half of him, while the bottom consists of a large bowl-like metal thing with a blade in the middle. The wheels are screwed to the outside of the bowl, and the motor is screwed to the top. The handle sticks out at an unlikely angle, and there are many other battle scars he has from what he likes to think is pursuing evildoers at astonishing speeds of 2+ mph. Like I said, he has many battle scars, but from his point of view, that's not a big deal for what he accomplishes- He does effortlessly behead over 500,000 enemies weekly. Anyway, I carefully dragged him out of the garage, thinking thoughts of gigantic gory battles with Mr. Ugly in the middle of it(I swear he can read minds... Oh, well, it's worth a try.). I yell "RESUME CHASE!" and yank the cord. Mr. Ugly belches, coughs, and roars to life! Despite his need to be shaken every half pass, he does have a surprisingly powerful engine. I sigh with relief, and start mowing. Though you do need to be careful of the fact that he has only 3 wheels(both physically and mentally), the hard part is over-! After mowing, I cruise into the garage, leave Mr. Ugly at the outside of his home(he doesn't like escorts) and go do whatever. Whew!

-It looks like that's about all I can say, so I guess I'm going to go do whatever. Bye for now, and good luck with everything!

jr.high: ups & downs

- Hi, I guess I'm back in business with my bumbling, meandering, and somewhat twisted musings. I guess you're wondering what the picture at the right is already, so I'll tell you that it's from the 'Google Play' thing they have under the Blogger settings. I'm sure you've all seen this before. It looked pretty interesting, and so I decided to check it out. I came across many funny pictures, but this was among the funniest. It is now my display picture, as it symbolizes... well I guess it doesn't really symbolize anything. Anyway, that 'play' thing is sorta cool. Check it out sometime.

- I am glad to say that I have finally decided which soccer team to devote my life to- thanks to Uncle Nigel. I've decided that, due to the long history, the fact that it is (arguably, as mentioned by Uncle Nigel) the most storied team in history, and the good fans, the new, impressionable fan-in-the-making goes to Liverpool. Thanks Uncle Nigel- that was great. I hope to have an addiction by the end of the next game I watch!

- Now for the title story("Oooh, Ahhh. Thank goodness he's gotten on track, or we'd be here through the second coming with our dry eyeballs still pointing at the computer monitor." Well, thank you for your love and support. I hope you're happy![here I go again.]). I now have toiled up the icy slopes of sixth grade, only to reach the top and find Mr. Kleinart(principal, in charge of "making everyone feel safe") & Mr. Hill(vice principal, in charge of school security, and in charge of making everybody feel as though they should be put in a barrel with their stuff and rolled from class to class instead of being literally rolled into a ball with their papers and binder and tossed into a freight elevator with all their fellow student-binder balls to get from class to class) standing there with cattle prods, ready to zap you until you fall off of the cliff of seventh grade. At least they've cracked down on Swirlies. You probably forgot whatever the heck I was saying during that uber-long pair of parentheses(and whatever the heck was between them), so why don't you check and see so that you can say "That was one dumb joke!" and get it over with. Was I right? I am so goood! Anyway, here are all my teachers & staff in order from best to worst(I seem to have developed a way of saying things about people or stuff that I have an opinion on that only insults people. I hope It wears off soon!). You can draw your own conclusions.

Sister Golightly: My favorite teacher; is LDS and is very funny. Likes whatever you do(or maybe that's an act-? Oh, well, she's my favorite teacher anyhow.) is the GT(Gifted & Talented- otherwise dubbed 'geeks in training' by other jealous, misinformed ignorant laymen) teacher at MJHS(the jr. high). Loves teaching.


Mr.Quesnell(pronounced 'kuhnell'): Is my English teacher; loves reading and writing- In fact, they are second only to being a fishing guide. You can't get much better than that- especially with fishing guides.

Mr. Lawton- Is my science teacher; likes law & order and the metric system equally well; also likes to kid around- but only on his spare time! When the bell rings, you'd better stop that horsing around-!

Mrs. Quesenbury: Is my Geography teacher; lenient about poster deadlines, but the friendliness ends there. She's one of those teachers that will personally roll you up in your student-binder ball and shove you down the laundry chute marked 'naughty'(yes, as your naughtiness increases, you get referred from the class of the freight-elevetor to the lower class.).

Mr. Jackson: loves to make little kid's skin turn red from woodworking tool-burns(occur when you get wood shavings all over your hands, then rub them all up and down a metal or plastic handle)-actually, any handle will work.

Mr. what's-his-name: I can never remember his name for fear of retaliation, but he teaches health. Is the 7th grade football coach- that may be where he got his hard-as-a-rock characteristics(either there or from the 'big house')- makes you do 20 pushups at the slightest hint that you are 'naughty'.


I'm not even going to mention the P.E. teacher.

That finishes it up! If you liked my blog, give me a happy review- if not, read it over and over again until you do-! Thanks again, Uncle Nigel, for that e-mail!

Quirks: my list

Hi, everybody...
-I hope you think my 2nd posting turned out as well as I thought it did! Actually, the last one was a test, so you could call it my first. Anyway:

-It's just another normal day here in La La Land- Jacob going into his routines, Caroline yelling and trying to beat everybody up(that's MY Polly! give it BACK![whap, bonk] Caro-LINE! [clang of steel curtain hanger on... something expensive-sounding, probably a camera or something else like that.] I usually imagine something in- like "ha-HA! gotcha!"- at about this point.[ rumble of falling cardboard bricks- kept in a massive pile by the closet.] Jacob joins the fight.[MIRIAM! you're not my friend anymore!]I can tell by the increasing thuds and clangs that Jacob has picked up the little dolly chair and is using it to bash everyone over the head. Finally, someone decides to use the all-time ace-in-the-hole, though sometimes it backfires on the user-as in this example: MOMEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! Miriam is trying to kill meeee!!!!!!!! WAAAAHH! "Momeee" comes in, already disgruntled at having to pause NPR- to which she listens every day- and, at finding the entire room in chaos, wallows through all the battered playthings to dish out comeuppance for the resulting hours of clean-up time for her[imagine what would happen if someone started singing the 'clean-up song'!{Everlasting confinement in the garage, probably.}] Anyway, the result is usually that everyone in a 45-foot radius of Mom goes to timeout- that's why Jared and I are evacuated from the house of our own accord by this time- and peace is restored once again. Mom goes into the kitchen and resumes listening to NPR(I swear it's some sort of addiction, I'll have to Google it sometime) and polishing\waxing her kitchen.) Julia still does her usual begging for treats(it usually works: what would you do if a Bambi-eyed baby was wandering dolefully around the kitchen whispering "ummy? ummy?"-?) Jared is bouncing experimental sports game analizations off of Seth, Seth agreeing profusely to Jared's seemingly endless ramblings at the same time as reading a National Geographic issue-of which my Dad has an ENDLESS collection, I assure you.

-We all hope Kai gets better from his injuries, and he is included in our prayers each day. don't give up hope, Scott and co.!

-...Well. To the subject. I have below a list of people(don't worry, I have gotten all of their express permission- most of them.) Also, as you may have noticed, I conveniently forgot to add myself in the list. This is because it's supposed to be from my point of view, and I don't have particularly good insights on myself -and because of the obvious, which is that I, as of now, have no quirks whatsoever(here I go!) I may sound mean in this, but I told them to tell me if they don't like it -so it's not my fault if it sounds like I'm out to get them.

• My dad: seems to like the feeling of mud caked everywhere possible on his body; loves the National Geographic altogether too much; also loves anything
  Mom cooks-i guess it's some sort of husband thing....
• My Mom: likes to listen all day to NPR mp3 downloads; also loves anything my dad cooks(maybe returning the favor, I don't know.); has personal vendetta for the Lifecor saleslady, along with many others she's dealt with in her accounting career...
• Jared: is really into the Backyard Sports computer game series; loves any sport along with that; life is dedicated to hating pineapple...
• Miriam: can make any ailment sound cute and damsel-in-distress-like(sometimes so much so that it's laughable); likes to dress up in mid-1800's raiment during resttime...
• Caroline: has a definite personality; likes do dress up in clothes that are "all the rage"; hates ketchup and will to the end of her days- she can't even stand the smell, and complains if the bottle comes into her vicinity...
• Jacob: likes to dress up in a mixture of Miriam's and Caroline's choice, therefore looking like an extremely overdone hippie, complete with "long hair"(strings draped over his head) and safety pins holding the whole thing together.
• Julia: loves anything little babies have a reputation of hating-babyfood, mostly("Spinach and dried onion blend?"[retch, cough] "Here Julia! mmm, it's ummmmy!")

That concludes my list! Thank you and goodnight!(applaud here)

Hi everybody! =^P

Hi. Just to make a good introductory impression, I find it necessary to state my late thoughts- or at least my more significant ones. Also, I would imply that you know I realize the fact that some of these thoughts are inappropriate, most of these type containing varying degrees of gore, and including a light dusting of what my mother would call 'potty talk', for a reputedly g-rated blog. I have, consequently, acted upon this and therefore this blog post would probably be what you would call 'edited'. Before you read this post, you need to realize the fact that nothing - I repeat NOTHING - exiting has been happening over the past few weeks. The most exiting thing that's happened would probably be going to Walmart and buying a bag of chips(They were good chips nonetheless). As an end result, this post is sadly diminished in size- but, as my unusually annoying conscience points out, this is not the end of the world.

Thus, I start my blog. I, of late, have been in awe at the amount of hilarious happenings that can come out of nowhere because of the sheer millions of mechanical, automatic, computerized facts posted on large Internet sites- such as EBay. For example, there is one review I found while looking at a seller's feedback:

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THIS CD DOESN’T WORK. SENT MANY E-MAILS TO THEM WITH NO RESULTS. I WANT A REFUND
· Reply by directbids (May-10-07 19-57):
WE E-MAILED & TOLD YOU TO SEND IT BACK FOR A RE-PLACEMENT OR REFUND AS POSTED!!
o Follow-up by southernladylingerie (May-10-07 19:57):
YOU LIAR, YOU NEVER E-MAILED & TOLD ME ANYTHING BUT “ TRY IT ON ANOTHER COMPUTER”
§ Rating mutually withdrawn

FENG SHUI – Chinese Art Of Creating Harmony NEW CD PC
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read the whole thing!