Nothing

Pfft... Sad things. I glee when I read my previous posts because they are funny in their stereotypical Adolescence. Hilarious, I Tell You.

It is sad, though, how I have to use spell-check every time I spell "adolescence."

Eat Me.

I am rich in literature once again. The Nest and I went to a homeschool convention where--joy of all joys!--there was Used Book Sale. And for the next hour, I was transported into cheap-printed heaven.

I am filled with glorious feelings.

And YAY people won't forget me! You know those Hello My Name Is tags? I wrote IRRELEVANT, and two people laughed (at me? with me?). It was worth it.

During the car ride there, I was deliriously happy and couldn't stop grinning. Also I talked to one saleslady who complimented my articularity. It made me feel special. :B
(That was a toothy smiley.)

AND (conjunctions will rule the literary world someday) I found myself envying the owner of a certain representative's eye-crinkles.
I am IN AGONY when I see Crinkles.

In fact, I fall in love with every man who has them.
But then I change my mind like a girl changes clothes regarding love, anyhoo, so WHATEV, YO.

The triumphant attitude has carried over from yesterday's late-night ramblings, which I thought it wouldn't, so WHOOP!!

Also!

STACY and CLINTON.

At nine, TLC. I love their snobby humor. I giggle in throes when they fling the poor lady's clothes at the other end of the room or sashay in front of the mirror mockingly and make snobby jokes about the (often trashy) shirt and (hideously hooker-esque) jeans.

As I watch What Not to Wear, I laugh along with them (sheepishly) and at them, as well.

That show is certainly what one could call a Guilty Pleasure (capitalization will also someday rule the world).

AND I WILL INDULGE THIS EVENING, HIP HIP HOORAY.

The Best Things in Life Are Tasty

I have learned that life is too short to be taken seriously.
So I'm going to stop writing Woes-of-Me.
(I am sure I'll forget this and flee to the keyboard as soon as that Darn Summer Depression hits again, but Whatev. I'm down with this right now.) (Yo.)

Hey! It's been a long time since I mentioned The Pretty, and let me reassure you that he is still as Pretty as he ever was.

The only difference now is that he has a wholelotta new roommates sharing The Pretty House (read: Every actor from Band of Brothers except Cobb.) (And Sobel.) (They are not love 't all.).

Woohoo! Now it is 12:Twenty-Five AM! One and half hours left and this staying up 'til ungodly morning hours will become habitual.

I think I am done for tonight, though. I had High Ambitions of finishing a book about the Trials and Tribulations of the Japanese-Americans of World War Two, but I am sick of issues. Can't people get a grip on some good bread and maybe a little wine (if you are into that sort of thing.) (Which I know everyone secretly wishes they were, if they aren't.) (I know I certainly do.) (Because wine is just COOL, all right?) and just enjoy the nicer sides of life? Because Lord knows the worst sides are presented far too often.

Anyway. This is way too serious (see? Didn't even take ten minutes.) so I am going to sleep now.

Oh. And in case you ignored that link on Lewis's name in my last post, here is the actual poem (you lazy bum, you).

I will find out a place for thee, O Sleep-
A hidden wood among the hill-tops green,
Full of soft streams and little winds that creep
The murmuring boughs between.

A hollow cup above the ocean placed
Where nothing rough, nor loud, nor harsh shall be,
But woodland light and shadow interlaced
And summer sky and sea.

There in the fragrant twilight I will raise
A secret altar of the rich sea sod,
Whereat to offer sacrifice and praise
Unto my lonely god:

Due sacrifice of his own drowsy flowers,
The deadening poppies in an ocean shell
Round which through all forgotten days and hours
The great seas wove their spell.

So may he send me dreams of dear delight
And draughts of cool oblivion, quenching pain,
And sweet, half-wakeful moments in the night
To hear the falling rain.

And when he meets me at the dusk of day
To call me home for ever, this I ask-
That he may lead me friendly on that way
And wear no frightful mask.

It Took Me Three Minutes to Think of a Title

Finally. FINALLY, I am satisfied with my the look of my little blog.

I feel like giving myself a cookie.
(Or maybe not. I will have enough of the fast food tomorrow. Yech.)
(What a thing for a teenager to say, I know.)
(Oh wait. That's right--adolescence is un-Biblical.)

Tomorrow, the family and I are headed to a homeschooling convention on our (borrowed) van.

Today, I ended my schoolwork. Ya acabe.

ALSO! Who knew that C.S. Lewis also wrote poetry??

I've been reading about him lately, and he was a fascinating man. There are some things about him that inspire respect and role-modelization.

Holy hard drive, it is midnight and I have to wake up early tomorrow. And Saturday as well.
Sunday, too.
THEN ALL OF NEXT WEEK BECAUSE I AM GOING TO YOUTH CAMP WITH NOT A SINGLE ONE OF MY FRIENDS, O BOTHER.

Clearly, this is unbelievable, prositively frustrating, and confounded!

Of course you may applaud my genius.

ZooLOLogy

"The good thing about stealing information is that no one really notices. Steal a purse and someone screams."

"Involving civilians in operations is dangerous, but sometimes necessary."

Burn Notice is the Ultimate for useful tips on espionage and how to thwart bank-robbers.

I had a panic attack yesterday morning. It was an experience (which I live for. My one wish in life is that I leave it strangely).

This site is a site after the Fish's own heart. Tell me. Tell me this picture is not a Genius Landmark of the Twenty-first Century.