fabulous bloggish things

This is just a place where I can talk about things, I can write a lot of words (because I love words), and where my pals can comment on my thoughts, goings-on, and whatever else I feel like writing.

Friday, March 16, 2007

Flippin' Friday with Faith - entry #1



I love being cheesy. Or a cheese head. The Christmas before last we went to Marseilles and met up with Stevi and Troy, and I know you might have heard this before...but I can't help but think of a certain little kid named Luc who was very frustrated that we could not speak French. The only thing I understood him say in a whole week was "tu a fromage a la tete", meaning, you are all cheese-heads. Oh, hahahahah! That was great.



So. What will I write about today? I will write about Spring Break. Spring Break, the first day of which there is simply an air of joy over the whole city. Every kid from Round Rock to Dripping Springs might have awakened at the normal time, just to sigh with smile, roll over, and go back to sleep. You may be wondering how I think I know what I'm talking about - I am home schooled. And I'll give you that I might not. I don't think that in my nine years of school I have ever enjoyed a spring break as well as I have enjoyed this week, though. It is strange how different this school year has seemed. Last year school was very intense, but we had no social life whatsoever. The year before that, social levels were normal, and school levels were less than tiring. This year however, school has been harder than ever between church history, apologetics, literature, writing, algebra, and science. We are doing harder stuff and more of it than ever before. And added to that is our activities, drama and music and actually spending time with friends. This week has been so wonderful, just to not have anything to do. Ahhh. I have slept in, drank tea, watched movies, gone to the mall, slept some more, and read. It has been lovely. And I am basically depressed because today is the last day of blessed rest. Next week it is back to running and algebra and reading and writing. Pooh. Pooh and double pooh.



On a slightly different topic, last night I was ... listening to a bedtime story about Winnie the Pooh. (Uh, don't even ask me why.)Why is his name Pooh? I never read or watched Pooh when I was little. Some will say I was deprived - but I was loving life with Mr Rogers and Sesame Street. Now, when I watch Pooh, I am just disturbed. A bear named for excrement, a pathetic piglet, a rabbit with anger issues, and an infernally suicidal donkey. A donkey! And why are people scared of bees? It is because of the evil bees on Winnie the Pooh - always out to get the poor, honey-loving bear. Why do kids think a balloon filled with carbon dioxide should float? It is because of Pooh. I don't know, man. It is just weird. Funny, but wrong. But you see, the real reason why Pooh is called Pooh is this: once he hung onto a balloon filled with carbon dioxide for so long that his arms went stiff over his head for a week. And when a fly landed on his nose, he would have to ("pooh!") blow it off. Hahaha.


Lastly, I will fill you in on my latest doofus-ness. You all pretty much know that I am a doofus, right? Well, here is why. As you all know, Paul and Charis had their baby, Britain on Thursday night. Well, the Leydens were going to take them dinner on Tuesday night, but James was sick so the Franklins stepped in. While my mom prepared a lovely chicken and noodles dish, I worked for a considerable amount of time on a delicious cheese cake recipe that I pretty much love. It made two cheese cakes, (ahem, one for them, one for us). So we load everything up in the car, and it starts pouring rain. We get over to their apartment, and I jump out, grab the cheesecake and the green beans, and make a dash for the shelter of the car parking place. Bear with me if you don't know what I'm talking about. My mom then realizes she forgot the main dish at home. My brothers and I are already across the parking lot, so she says to go on up and she'll be back ASAP. So we take off sprinting for the building. And, me being the brilliant and graceful person that I am, slip on the wet grass, both feet in the air, land flat on my back, send the green beans one direction and the cheesecake crashing into a wall. It is still pouring rain. I get up, and go under the roof with the empty pie pan, and try to catch my breath and keep from sobbing for five minutes. Ish. So we go up the stairs, and I call my mom to tell her to get the other cheesecake. And the Emersons have other people over. Paul reaches out to usher me in, and realizes that my whole back is sopping wet. So we, dripping wet, muddy, with a completely empty pie pan and a deformed foil container of green beans, enter the Emersons peaceful, beautifully clean apartment. We see Britain, beautiful, tiny, and perfect. He goes to nurse. We see the turtle. We try not to be as intrusive as we feel, hoping our mom will get there soon. I watch a slide show of pictures from the tile inside their door, trying not to get anything wet. And finally my mom gets there, the Emersons were so nice, and Gram (Britain's grandma) tells me a story about when she dropped a pie he had worked two hours on for her husband when she first got married. My mom offers me Britain, and Paul says, "What is that verse in the Bible? If you are faithful with a little bit of pie...you get to hold the baby! Hahaha". And so we went home, I changed into my third set of clean clothes that day, and drank some hot tea, thinking of that cheesecake all over the lawn outside their apartment building. And oh, that was just the icing on the cake for my day. So my last thought, before going to sleep was only this....I think I'll move to Australia.

OK, until next week. Out.

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Tuesday, March 06, 2007

I, unlike so many, refuse to devote even one useless and ridiculous sentence to the seeming-to-dwindle blogging network. Some people just decide to live life instead of writing about it for a while! Ha.

Anyway, I have decided to pull a Box here and start a rhyming tradition. Freaking Fridays with Faith! I am going to try to blog every friday, ok? That should make some of you happy. This is Tuesday, though, so I guess it doesn't count. But I had a minute so heres my blog post.

Dancing and Being a Smartalec (Or that thing that sounds like that, that I can't spell)

Ok, story time with Faith. So on Saturday we were able to attend a wedding, which is pretty sweet. It was also even sweeter because the people getting married are really cool, and of course, the ceremony was done by none other than The Danny Box, himself, Sr. Pastor of Hill Country Bible Church Pflugerville. Plus it is just fun to say Pflugerville. Anyways, so the wedding is really cool, and I am so inspired by their commitments to each other and God. I know that the majority of the SW blogging network is guys, so bear with me because you probably don't understand how a girl feels when she thinks about romantic things. So that was really cool, and both of my topics have to do with things that took place after this very nice ceremony.
Ok, so we are standing around feeling slightly awkward because we pretty much don't know anybody else at the wedding (us kids) or haven't seen them in years (our parents) - loitering, in simple terms. So Pastor Box comes over and starts talking to us, haven't seen him in a really long time. He said something about reading our blogs, and I am shocked because I don't know what he's read. So I pop off something like, Do you do that when you are supposed to be working? (this seems like a perfectly logical chain of events to me. Awkward/bored, slightly shocked, pop-off.) I didn't even think about it, but then every one's all, "oooh" with that, you-obnoxious-smartalec look. I get that a lot. Go me. So then I try to cover it by actually purposefully saying something nice. "Seeing Jake and Krista so much, I just never forget about you guys. (to Mrs Box) You and Krista are so much alike. I love Krista, she is so cool. (to them both) And Jake is doing a really great job as a youth pastor, our youth group rocks!" And Pastor Box is like, "Oh, so you're saying you would just forget us if you didn't ever see Jake and Krista?" (hahaha)
I am just always being reminded that I say smartalleck stuff so much, no body ever takes me seriously. And I can't think that is exactly pleasing to God. You know, that whole let-no-word-come-out-of-your-mouth-except-what-is-good-for-building-others-up thing. So this issue had kind of been bothering me. One day I decided to try to actually do that thing. You know, not just talk all the flipping time with out thinking, as is my custom. And that like, totally freaked my mom out and got her all wierd. Plus, I just didn't feel like myself. So I spent time thinking about this all last week.
And then, on Saturday, talking to Monsieur Box, I just kind of realized its ok to joke around. I don't think God needs me to change who I am - just to be wise. And so I joked right back with Pastor Box, with my family, and with my friends. I think I always will be a joker. You know, there's a difference between being witty and being a smart mouth.
Maybe.
I just hope every once in a while people will see that I am serious =).

So the other exciting thing - dancing! Oh yeah. I just love dancing. It is a cool thing. I know that lots of people disagree - I am already anticipating a biting, cynical comment from my brother. But I seriously think that one of the coolest things God gave us is music. A rhythm, a melody, a beat, a harmony. Words that sound good and paint pictures in my imagination. It picks you up, calms you down. Kind of like coffee. Except doesn't taste as much like dirt. Anyway, and one of the other coolest things God gave us is bodies! They bend, twist, jump, and sway. They can comfort, they can cause pain, they can feel pain, and they can take you places. And when you put those two sweet things together - music and bodies - you get dancing. To me, it makes perfect sense. Kind of like when you put butter, sugar, flour, eggs, baking soda, and vanilla, (and maybe even some chocolate chips) together, it makes yummy cookies. And I love dancing. OK, I love cookies too. But this is about dancing.
So there was dancing at the reception. And it was so much fun. Granted, I only danced with my little brother Sam and with my dad, but I was just having a blast. And probably looking like a retard. But mainly, having a blast. Really, I don't think there is an actual point to this topic. Just the fact that dancing is very awesome, and that if there is anything that I miss out on by being homeschooled, it is dances. And now, I am through.

PS. An Ode
oh for a thousand dresses to see
to try on, to make twirly
all dresses are fun
delightful each one
yet this one is greater than all
this one is purply, this one is light
its flowers in pink and orange so bright
looking like a mosaic
really fairly poetic
the best of all dresses, great and small
it resembles a fairy dress
I'll settle for no less
beautiful, blowy
happy and flowy
definitely greater than all

(I went shopping this afternoon and fell hopelessly in love with a dress that cost $80, and that I would have no opportunity to wear. It deserved so much more than that simple poem...)