Tooth Fairy

I remember staring into the mirror, analyzing it, trying to see if tonight will be the night. I tug at it a bit, to see if it will give. Nope. Not tonight. But I really want it to be tonight! I try again...so painful. Sweat starts to lightly cover my face. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, roll my eyes backward, and TUG. My fingers lose grip on the slimy thing. I grab an old rag, wrap it around the pearl, and tug. And with a ssshhhhpok! The white, priceless pearl emerges. I can only be triumphant for mere seconds, and then...the blood rushes out of the hole in my head. I put my mouth on the faucet, rinsing my mouth several times. I smile at myself in the mirror. I find the hole. I gingerly inspect it with my tongue. Gums had never felt so weird.
The tooth in my head, I do the traditional way of making sure the fairy knew I had a tooth for Her. I rush out of the bathroom, and think of the three most important spots in the house. I rush to the kitchen and scream, "Tooth fairy, tooth fairy, I lost my tooth!" I then go to the family room, and bellow, "Tooth fairy, tooth fairy, I lost my tooth!" Then I go to the most important room: Mine. How else would she know where to go? I say the same phrase, and I'm satisfied. I carefully placed the tooth in my pocket. I will put it under my pillow later.
Night finally arrives. I place the tooth in an envelope, and place it gingerly under my pillow, anxious for the money I was going to get. I got different amounts every time. I wondered how much the Tooth Fairy would pay for this one. Is it worth a lot? She must have some way of determining its quality...I will just have to wait.
The Tooth Fairy never came in the middle of the night. I know this because I woke up often at night, and inspected the area underneath my pillow. She always came right after I fell asleep, or right before I woke up. It always has puzzled me, and always will.

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday mom! Sorry about the picture, it's from last year's "birthday party."
Thank you for being the best mom one could have. My most vivid memories from when I was a kid was riding bikes, hiking, etc., and being utterly miserable at the time because you would keep going and going and going....regardless if I threatened to stay behind, or of my tears. But looking back on that, I realized because of you, I am very much the person I am today. You not only made me stronger, and built up my endurance, but you also gave me some wonderful character from that. I've learned from you that whining won't get you anywhere, crying doesn't either...but a fall? With lots and cuts and scratches? Gets you a minute of sympathy, but you must pick yourself up and keep going.
I also remember the times in the winter when we'd snuggle under a blanket over the heater, and I would proudly read books to you. Usually the entire book itself would consist of three sentences. But still! I was very proud of myself. Then you made me advance to novels. I remember Amelia Bedelia, and The Boxcart Children. Yes, you and dad both instilled the love of books into me. (Dad used to read to me at night in all sorts of funny voices. My two favorite books that I remember him reading to me? Stuart Little and The Lion The Witch and the Wardrobe. Thanks, Dad!)
Thank you so much mom, for making me the person I am today. Have a sweet time at work tonight! I love you.

Thanksgiving

These are some Thanksgiving pictures. I took forever to get around to doing this because I'm usually too lazy to find the camera, hook up the camera, figure out where the blasted pictures show up on the computer, browse the pictures, save the pictures, then finally, upload the pictures....
First I must start with the person who undoubtedly ate the most food, and kept eating and eating and eating...
Pretty soon, his ma's arm got tired...so she plopped a big yam on his plate, just to see what he would do...

He grabbed the whole thing, and kept going!

Micah, however, was more interested in sampling any plastic that could be found on the table...

Poppy was more interested in accomplishing the feat of reaching the blinder cords...

And Oscar? He was more interested in attacking the already-bloated-and-tired Reed.

Oscar also showed off the fact he can reach over his head and touch his ear--which means he's ready to go to school.

Dad also showed off his creativity by reading a story to Oscar and Poppy. The creativity? He didn't read the words given to him to recite, but read a story about a bunny named Oscar, only he was known as Oscar Stinkybottom and Snottynose. He didn't only amuse Oscar, but us viewers and listeners as well.

I was going to post a few more, but Blogger is being frustrating, so I'm done.

A day of...boredom?

Well...I woke up today bright and early and worked out for two hours. Then I proceeded to hurry home to bid farewell to family members I won't see for a looong time. After they left...the house seemed so big and empty. No shrieks of "Be quiet Poppy!" or Poppy's belly laugh.
So...to escape...I got all my library stuff gathered together, and first I went to Smith's Marketplace to develop some pictures. Then I went to the library to clear some things up, such as a DVD I turned in a week ago, but they still say I have it checked out...just small matters.
Then I went to seagull to get a scripture case. But while I was at Seagull's, I had the temptation to buy a ring. I like those rings, and I lost mine months ago. I forgot what size I was, so I tried the sizing rings on. I started with a size eight. Waaay too big. Then I went straight to a six. Went down very easily, like a charm. But...it won't budge! I can't get it off! I decided that I was going to walk away with the sizing rings, and casually "browse" around the store, while trying to slip it off. To my dismay, the sizing rings were chained to the stand! Imagine me casually walking away, only to hear a huge rattle of rings, and a chain attached to my ring finger...
I finally get it to budge, but the knuckle wrinkles were the next obstacle to my freedom. I casually look at the rings, trying to appear very interested in the soccer one. After about a five minute's struggle, the ring came off! I was free! I hurried and bought the scripture case and bolted out the door.
Once I got home, I find that my dad's replacing the old water heater, because it was leaking this morning. He calls my name, asking for help, telling me I'll need gloves. I nonchalantly walk to him. "I need you to hold this pipe while I saw some of it off." The saw was an electric one. For the next minute, I feared for my hand, as he sawed this metal pipe within inches of my precious hand...I kept letting go when I got scared, so at last, I just looked away, and with a chink the piece of pipe came off.
Well, that's all that happened today. You didn't miss much.

Just a Post

Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving is a gronderful holiday, as it gives us a day to reflect and be thankful for all the things we have, before commercialism attacks us on the double tomorrow. Brace yourselves.

It's so nice to have a couple of days off to spend with family, to see people I don't see everyday, much less in the same house!

I'd write some comment here about the first comment I received on my last post, but as my friends and family actually read this blog, I can't be discreet. (ha ha! I'm just kidding!) No, it simply isn't worth it. I will not waste my breath anymore on the subject, as it already has been wasted too much.

Okay, this seems the right time to confess this fact to ALL my friends: I am a trekkie. There you go. (I think my family already knows THAT.)

I'm racking my brains for anything else of little consequence to tell you...hmmm....apparently my life is very uneventful and unimaginative at the moment. It's full of excitement, so I don't have to improve on it with my imagination!

Speaking of imagination...I just remembered something! When I was younger, in the elementary school years, my mom would wake me up bright and early. She then would drive me to the pool, and I would swim for an hour or so. She would drop me off then go to the store to get some food. While she was gone...I was alone in the pool with a couple of old people and a lifeguard. It was incredibly boring. Sometimes I would imagine I was some sort of sea-creature that had been tamed, and people would ride me from one "shore" to the other. (the walls I visited every forty seconds...) I then would get my pay, and they'd go on their way.
Other times I would imagine I was a creature of some sort that could swim, and I would hurry to catch up to "bad guy" ships, and sabotage them.
Anyhow...if you ever want to know what I'm thinking about when I'm swimming in an empty pool with no entertainment...I start to imagine...Nowadays, I'm afraid I'm actually starting to think about my strokes, and sing Les Miz songs in my head.

Turkeys

Benjamin Franklin makes me laugh. I enjoy excerpts of his writing, such as this one, a letter written to his daughter, concerning the Eagle as a national mascot...

Franklin's Letter to His Daughter (excerpt)

"For my own part I wish the Bald Eagle had not been chosen the Representative of our Country. He is a Bird of bad moral Character. He does not get his Living honestly. You may have seen him perched on some dead Tree near the River, where, too lazy to fish for himself, he watches the Labour of the Fishing Hawk; and when that diligent Bird has at length taken a Fish, and is bearing it to his Nest for the Support of his Mate and young Ones, the Bald Eagle pursues him and takes it from him.
"With all this Injustice, he is never in good Case but like those among Men who live by Sharping & Robbing he is generally poor and often very lousy. Besides he is a rank Coward: The little King Bird not bigger than a Sparrow attacks him boldly and drives him out of the District. He is therefore by no means a proper Emblem for the brave and honest Cincinnati of America who have driven all the King birds from our Country . . .
"I am on this account not displeased that the Figure is not known as a Bald Eagle, but looks more like a Turkey. For the Truth the Turkey is in Comparison a much more respectable Bird, and withal a true original Native of America . . . He is besides, though a little vain & silly, a Bird of Courage, and would not hesitate to attack a Grenadier of the British Guards who should presume to invade his Farm Yard with a red Coat on."

What do you think? What would life be like if the turkey was our national mascot? Are they really nobler than an eagle? I'm pretty sure we'd still eat it...hmmm...

Lindsey

I owe a lot to Lindsey, one of my sisters. She was the one who cultivated my very vivid imagination.
I remember watching her make a dreamcatcher. It was a very beautiful dreamcatcher. She hung it above our bunkbed, and I asked her what it was for. She told me that it caught bad dreams, so we wouldn't have to have nightmares. I believed her fully. I woke up the next day, she was already at school, and I found something very peculiar in the dreamcatcher. Black things. They were caught in the web. I was too scared to touch them, and I played around with my stuffed animals, and did all the little things little kids did, and waited for her to get home. I immediately asked her what those black things were. She said simply, "Bad dreams." I was amazed. She plucked them out of the dream catcher and threw them away. Soon, it became my job for cleaning them out and throwing them away. They were all sorts of shapes and sizes. They all were black. Eventually, there were fewer in the dream catcher. Then none at all. I ask my oh-so-wise sister why this was, and she said, "They keep getting caught, they know they can't come here, so they aren't going to try anymore." And that was that.

Another such instance...a dragon. He lived in the ceiling of our little room. I would write notes to him, and he to me. I would leave the notes halfway shoved into the ceiling, and he would leave his on my bed. He had very weird, squiggly handwriting. I remember leaving a note for him, and anxiously waiting for his reply. I would play outside for a while, then run downstairs to look at my bed. Nothing. I would look and look, but he would never reply 'til it was dark. When I felt close to my new friend, I asked him for something I never dared asking anyone else. I asked him if he could make me fly. He said that he will give me some wings in his next note. Boy, was I excited! I played on the swing and trampoline that day, imagining flying to grandma's, flying to wherever I wanted to go, flying to the moon! I imagined that the wings would cover most of the bed, huge long feathery wings, white as the puffy clouds. Now I would truly be complete. My greatest wish all throughout my childhood was that I could fly. Now it was finally going to come true! I finally received his next note. It was...just a note. I was cruelly disappointed. Too disappointed to even read the letter. My sister comes down, and asks me what's wrong. I tell her. She tells me to read the letter. I open it up, and a pair of very, very small wings come out with a safety-pin. The dragon explains that he is a very small dragon, and those were the best wings he could make for me. Still, I was disappointed. What was I thinking? There are probably hundreds of people who have befriended dragons, but are any of them flying? No. Humans weren't meant to fly with wings. Humans are meant to ride on wings, but never to fly for themselves, to experience the exhilaration of being in the sky, free, alone, and independent. I have experienced it. I've had endless dreams of flying, and oh, what an experience! To be flapping those wings, to be...I shouldn't carry on...

...Return to the real world.

Surprises

Yes. I was very surprised today. It was the usual at church, and I was being dulled by the monotone of the speaker, my dad was "resting his eyes", so I turned to entertain my mom with some Gratitude Grams that I have received. (Many say that I smell...do I?) I hear some shuffling beside me, and I thought, "Oh, great. People to sit next to us, and they have kids!" I turn to take a better look, and to my sheer amazement, it was my brother, his wife, and their kids!!! Some of you may not know, but they live 700-800 miles away. My mom's eyes go wide with confusion, and nudges my dad with her elbow. My dad grunts, thinking she's trying to wake him up, only 'til she nudges harder does he realize we want his attention. He looks over, looking not very dazed. He must've known. I didn't! So now my house is fuller, and noiser, and more complete.

As I walked home from church, I hear sounds of laughter and giggles, and screams. In my head. Whenever I walk home from church, I go through the playground and field of the elementary school I went to. So I remember flashes of memories, of people, phrases, and of memorable moments. I laugh to remember our petty feuds. I remember when I would distract the recess aides so we could play tackle football...etc. Usually the sounds of laughter fade away once I step out of the field and back onto the public sidewalk. Today, they didn't.
There was a terrible boy that I remember as "Donny Boy." He would scare me and my sister, and some other people I walked with. I remember the adrenaline rushes, we had to be very cautious and careful, while one scouted out the next corner. The scout would come back and say "Donny Boy is there. We must run." So we would run. And scream. I remember turning to glance back and seeing a boy with eyes full of hate and rage followed by others, chasing us.
Donny Boy was something I started to look forward to everyday. The terror was something that almost couldn't be endured. Apparently he hated my sister because they were friends, and they were playing out in the snow, and she kicked some snow at him, and hurt him, or something...and he's been mean to us ever since.
Apparently one day, my sister had enough. She cornered little Donny Boy, and grabbed him by the collar. I don't remember what she said to him, but knowing my sister, she probably threatened him in some elaborate way. I remember watching this, confused, and awed. I don't think I will ever forget that.
Years passed by, as they always do, and I went to the store with my mom. As we went through the checkout, I was amazed to see the bagger. It definitely was Donny Boy. For no unknown reason, I was terrified to see him again. I shyly and timidly hid behind my mother.
Nowadays, I have no idea what his real name was, or where he ended up. He will always remain a childhood monster in my memories.

Number one-hundred

Yes. This is my 100th post on this blog. Reflecting on many posts, I'm not sure if they count. But this post is officially number 100. Do I have a life? No.
I had the pleasant experience of taking a trip to the library today. Only to find out that I can't renew or check anything out due to "Excessive Fines" or something like that. So I saunter over to the counter, to the intimidating librarian. I boldly state "I'm here to pay my fines." She takes my card, and states that I have many things overdue. I know. However, I am filled with shame. The fine was exactly $10.80. So if you hit that number, beware: you won't be able to function at a library. However, these fines weren't from one occassion. This amount of money covers four months of fees. I think that's a pretty cheap membership, for what I get out of it!
While at the library, I saw a goofy looking movie. Little Women. Here's the catch: the 1949 version. I have to admit that it is a little corny, but I liked it much better than the recent version. Jo was fantastic, and in that movie, she was more like the character I imagined. She said some fantastic quotes like, "I wish I was a horse." "Oh, bilge!" "Christopher Columbus!" Etc.
So...that's all my little brain would like to share with you today.

November 16, 2006

Today is November 16, 2006.
It is rather a gloomy day here, and there is no sun to be seen. That's the way I like it. Either the sun is out without a cloud in the sky, blinding me, the school-mole who has no classes with windows. Or...the sun is out, with shiny glistening bright stuff on the ground, blinding me on the double. Today is very nice, as I can have my eyes wide open without pain, and I don't have profusely sweaty armpits, as it's chilly. I can actually wear a jacket without sweating everywhere. It's kind of sad that I can sweat on cue.
I've decided that November is nice and quiet and calm, kind of like the peace you experience before a huge storm. At least Thanksgiving is celebrated quietly and pleasantly with family, a reflection on the simple things in life we are thankful for. The day after Thanksgiving...uproar, "products! Products! PRODUCTS! Buy! Buy! Buy! You aren't happy with what you have, you want MORE! Buy! Christmas Sale! Come now! Only 24 hours! Blah blah blah."
Christmas, what are you? You cause stress and even...unhappiness. You commercialize, you advertise, you manipulate. You throw yourself on us after Halloween, or even as soon as July with your "Christmas in July" campaign.
I thought you were something quite different. I thought you were a holiday to enjoy, a holiday to be thankful again. After we are thankful for our possessions and lives in November, I thought we got to be thankful again for Christ, and for His willingness to come down and live with us lowly people. But...even the "Reason for the Season" products have made me somewhat skeptical. Buy these cute doo-dahs that say "The Reason for the Season" so we can make more money! Does it truly make people stop and reflect on why we even have Christmas?
I think I enjoy Christmas more than some of my friends. After Christmas day, many people seem gloomy and depressed...why? I don't know. I guess the excitement build-up is massive, and the day comes and goes quickly, like any other day. Then it's gone. You opened all of your presents. Woo hoo.
I enjoy the quiet Christmases. In my youth, it was all about the presents. Now, today, often the family doesn't even open the presents 'til evening of Christmas Day! A laid-back Christmas with family is necessary to actually enjoy it. (At least, that's my experience.)
What do you think?

Routine, Routine, Routine

Wow. It's amazing how boring life can get, and once your little routine is disturbed, it is either a welcome disturbance, or it upsets you for the rest of the day.
Usually I welcome these little quirks with open arms.
Til yesterday.

I am considering two colleges for school. I can't decide between the two. It is currently the early signing period. It ends tomorrow night. Both coaches called. I asked the first coach if I could wait until the late signing period, would it affect his offer? He said not at all. He would like me to be comfortable and confident with my decision.

The other coach? He pretty much scared me by saying that if I wait for the late signing period, he might not have any money left to offer me. I should make my decision now. Last night. Does he need to send the papers for me to sign? He needed to know last night. I decided to call his bluff. I said that I will probably be deciding in the spring. He reluctantly tells me that they might be able to hold off some money for me. Then he continues to chatter, filling my head with dreams and glory. If I joined his team, the relay would probably make it to nationals. NATIONALS! But after I hung up, I looked deep down inside of myself, and I don't really care if I go to nationals or not. Granted, it would be cool, but still...It's not one of my biggest dreams. It wasn't even on my goal list until he planted it there, inside my head (but after looking in myself, it died, like a miserable weed).

All I want is to swim for a year or two, and be the best I can possibly be. Then I want to go on a mission. Then I'll just transfer to my favorite school in the whole world (which doesn't have a swim team...) and pursue any major I like.

Of course, my mom likes to scare me. "Where will you get the money? How are you possibly going to pay for it?" (concerning transferring to another school where I can have a happy experience) So I guess I will continue to work and save, and who knows? Maybe I'll take the ACT when I get back from my mission and hopefully get a good score like I did last time. (I recently learned that the score "expires" or something after a certain time...is that true?) Then my tuition will be covered. If my wonderful sister still lives up there by that time, maybe I'll impose on her and her family, and live with her, and in exchange? I'll babysit. By the way...is Mom stating a fact: That because I have opportunities to go through college without paying a cent, if I choose to not go, but pay to go elsewhere, she won't help me because I threw my opportunity away? (I'm just kidding mom! I know you would help me! ...right?...right?)

So, yes. Life throws us curveballs. Usually I like them. Until last night, that is. I hope to encounter a happy quirk soon.

Post for tomorrow...

Mmm...Sleeping in...
That swing holds so many memories for me!
The pickle tongue
My favorite picture on the computer...

Learning is fun

As you all have heard, millions of times, the trick question: Do rainforests produce most of our oxygen? No. The ocean does. I've heard this for years and years, and I never knew how the ocean produced "way" more oxygen than the rainforests...did it come from the plants in the oceans? The fish certainly don't produce oxygen...does it come from...? But after today's lecture in marine biology, I now know.

The picture above is the answer. These little one-celled organisms are called diatoms. They are the ones who produce all the oxygen that confused me. There you go.