I Fail At Life And Posting Consistently.

I have no excuses for you.
I apologize for not posting. Wah.

Ahem! There is a possibility that I might be switching to Tumblr, because it is more small-post/on-the-go post oriented, so I would be able to post more.
It's only a possibility at this point, though, so don't start crying yet (if you were going to cry at all); I'm testing it out. So far I LOVE IT. Shhh, don't tell the Blogspot people that I'm a traitor.
Please don't tar and feather me.

Also, the URL is the same. justusninjas.tumblr.com.

I am very tired, but I just wanted to tell you I'm not dead. So here is a picture from our recent vacation to my new favorite place in the world...NEW YORK FREAKING CITY.



Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "It's not a dream anymore."
Title: Looking Up.
Artist: Paramore.
P.S: Don't worry, I'm not turning drama queen (today), it's just that this time happens to be one of those times where you get a song stuck in your head but you don't know all the words so you just hear ONE LINE over and over in your head and it's TERRIBLE. This is that line. I wonder if it's an omen.

Did You Know Summer Doesn't Officially Begin Until Mid-June?

It's really quite weird.

So, in honor of summer not quite being here but still providing the lovely hot and humid weather we all adore so much, I devised a summery topic specifically summery enough for summer purposes.

Here it is. A list. A list of...
THE TYPES OF TANS.
And the people who get them.

Type A: The Pale Ones. These poor dears...they can lather and slather on the sunscreen, but they will still get burnt. Their stark-white, sometimes freckled skin turns lobstery, and, in extreme cases, blisters and peels like old parchment. And, after they are burnt, they will not tan, no matter how much they want to. They might turn light brown. Or gray. But it will fade.

Type B: The Farmers. We call them the farmers because of their Farmer's tans. Sometimes the Pale Ones get these kind of tans, too, where they burn RIGHT around the outline of whatever they're wearing. They get terrible tanlines that refuse to go away. Sometimes, they will even tan AROUND spots they missed with sunscreen, resulting in a blotchy, uneven tan/burn that resembling a spray tan that was applied by a flying monkey with A.D.H.D and rabies.

Type C: The Lifeguards. Ever seen Baywatch? I haven't. But I believe it includes lifeguards running a lot in slow motion and they're all tan and gorgeous. Or so I've heard. Anyway, that's why we call these people the lifeguards. They spend a bunch of time outside, and they don't burn. They might burn a LITTLE, but mostly they just turn this gorgeous, lightly sunbaked color of brown that makes you wonder why they get to be Amazonians and you don't. Their tanlines BLEND into each other, so they look natural and unspoiled by silly whitespots. Only the crazy-dramatic tanlines show, like shoe tans or if they wear one-pieces all summer. These people don't lose their tans. They only fade a little, so by the time summer comes around again, they just add on layers and layers of TAN SKIN. Us mere mortals try to get this effect by wearing tank tops and strapless shirts, but nothing works. They are gods and goddesses.

Type D: True Amazonians. They stay tan all year round, or they're part of The Lifeguards and they go to Florida for Christmas break. Curse them.

Type E: Reptiles. These people either work outside or fake-bake. They are so exposed to the sun that their skin develops a leathery quality, like that of a turtle or crocodile. They look much darker than normal. This is only a good thing if you turn this color without the leathery quality, which is only possible if you are a Californian surfer boy with blond hair bleached by the sun or a Barbie doll. Both are unlikely.

Type F: The people that are so tan they're pale. I haven't witnessed this yet, but it happened in a Spongebob episode, so it MUST be possible.

Happy Sunbathing!

Please wear sunscreen. The lobster look only works for the lobsters.

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "Sun-kissed skin so hot, we'll melt your popsicle."
Title: California Girls.
Artist; Katy Perry.
^^^I LOVE this song. I don't know why.

I Feel All Summery And Stuff.

I wish I lived in Glee.

That show is so ADDICTING. It's like a soap opera for teenagers. You sit there and you watch it and all you wanna do is lean closer to the television so that you might fall into their world and join in their swirling dramedy. It's all so perfect and structured, and you know every time it falls apart it'll fall back together, because if it STAYED apart, the fans would, of course, freak out and all kill themselves.

And let's not forget...the music. It's aaaall about the music. Even though I'm not sure if they had great voices and were THEN processed or if they're actually that awesome (unlikely), they always pick the songs that fit the moment PERFECTLY and they're always songs that make you sit up and scream melodramatically,

"I LOVE THIS SONG!"

Then you get on iTunes and spend all your money downloading it so you can blast it in your room and pretend you ARE a part of Glee, and yes...you ARE that awesome.
And yes...
Your life IS a musical and you CAN sing whenever you want to by yelling,
"BRAD! B-flat."
Yes.

Oh, don't we all wish we were more than just geeky teenagers watching Glee on the Internet over and over, salivating over each and every one of those perfect people singing our favorite songs much better than we ever could?

"BRAD!...He's always just...there."
-Rachel

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "Words can't bring me down."
Title: Beautiful.
Artist: Christina Aguilera.
^^^This song is WAAAAY overused. I've heard it remade twice, JUST tonight.

Adventurous Adventures Are Always Adventurous.

So, school is almost over. I feel very young saying that, especially since I'll be a sophomore next year. Starting high school...it's kinda like walking into a bar after you've just turned twenty-one (assuming you've followed the laws and not had any alcohol and are therefore the best son or daughter EVER). Then you look around and you see that guy that's been there since nine that morning, passed out on the floor...that couple that's eyeing each other across the room--a one-night-stand waiting to happen....that social drunk guy that always gets up in everybody's business and starts talking to strangers and will probably puke on your shoe sometime in the night...and all those teenagers with fake I.Ds dancing with their beers near the bar, head banging and not noticing when they spill beer down each other's shirts.
It's all very overwhelming.

Okay, so maybe it's not EXACTLY like that...

Anyway, you feel old and all grown-up and stuff when you start high school. That is, until you see anybody else besides your freshman buddies. Y'know? You're like...God, I can't even DRIVE yet. Except for that one chick that turned fifteen during the summer...lucky bitch.
And then you're a sophomore and you act all arrogant and try to control the "stupid freshman." Then suddenly you're a junior and then a senior and then they take a poker thingie and usher you out of the school like sheep (and cows, and pigs, and hippopatimuseseses), and you have to make it on your own and you become a poor college student.
Yaaay, freedom...

OKAY. We had an adventure in school today! This IS an adventure to me.
You all remember tornado drills, yes? Get in the hallway or locker room, duck and cover. Well, the sirens went off, and we were all grumbly and "Grr, I don't wanna sit on the concrete, it's only first hour and I'm tired."
Then, the principal guy says: "This is not a drill. Repeat, this is NOT a drill."
Oh my.
Freakout.
Well, all of us in the band hallway didn't freak out THAT much. We just put our heads against the wall and took it in stride. It was vaguely frightening when people started trekking in from the outdoors, absolutely SOAKED.
But we wasted twenty minutes of class in the hallway just chatting with our friends while ducking and covering and playing hand games after we were allowed to sit up. I guess we all figured, hey, we're in a concrete building and if we die, we'll be with friends.

Also, I found THIS scratched inside a bathroom stall today:
"Gatekeeper, the seasons wait for your nod,
Gatekeeper, you hold your breath and winter goes on and on."
I tried all day to figure out what it was.
I finally did.
It's a quote from a song by Feist, called Gatekeeper.
...Next to the quote, somebody else had scratched, "WTF???"


Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: (See above).
Title: Gatekeeper.
Artist; Feist.
I have no idea what it means. But I like it.

I Promise, I Wasn't Kidnapped.

I know you all are terribly worried because I was gone for over a week, but the truth is, I am very busy and I use my free time to sleep.

Also, I'm lying.
It takes a shocking amount of effort to write a blog post, because, being a young blogger, I feel this excessive need to please people, and I my vocabulary is perhaps not ginormous enough to suit your needs.

DID YOU KNOW...ginormous has been added to the dictionary? This is NOT a lie. It's completely true and AWESOME. So, the next time somebody tells you, "Ginormous isn't a wooooord." Then you can say, "Bitch, it IS. Look it up. OHHH, WHAT NOW?!?! WEBSTER SCHOOLED YOU. IN THE FACE."
Say it just like that. They'll think you're cool.

Guess where I was on Saturday? A COLLEGE CAMPUS. Oh, yes. For State music contest, we went to the Mizzou campus. I won't describe the whole thing to you, because it may bore you, but it was GORGEOUS, and they have this giant chapel thing in the middle that just screams, "TAKE A PICTURE OF ME!!!" (I did). Then, out of nowhere, while my friends and I were walking to get food, our innocent eyes untainted by anything naked (except for me since I was mooned those two weeks ago...oh, how I was scarred...), some frat boys came running by wearing only...

Girls' underwear and sneakers.
Their hair was shaved so that only a little strip was left in the middle of their heads.
And their friends were driving next to them screaming and cheering them on.
There was also a rather...large...guy involved in all this running.
Remember that scene in Juno where she's talking about the guys while they run? Watch it. You'll understand...it was like that.

It was horrible and also AWESOME, but I don't know why. It was one of those things that makes you go..."Wow, college is going to be interesting."
It also makes you blush and giggle. Or, if you're like the girls standing about ten feet away from me, it makes you squeal and scream "I LOVE YOU!", causing one of the bolder boys to run over and hand her some piece of paper with what I think was an advertisement on it, and giving us a much closer view of some things you really don't wanna see when you're standing next to your boyfriend, or, really, when you're standing next to ANYBODY.

Run-on sentences For The Win.

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "It takes a crane to build a crane."
Title; Life Is Wonderful.
Artist; Jason Mraz.

Bad Things.

Today we will talk about bad things.
Things that are...BAD.
I am going to make a list of some things that are bad, to warn you of them.

1. Paper Cuts.
Simply, these things SUCK. It's kind of like somebody planted a tiny little bomb in this piece of paper and the second it touched your finger, it EXPLODED. That's exactly what it's like. It's that feeling you get when you run your nails across a chalkboard or scrape a fork against a plate, that feeling that makes you wanna grind your teeth together and cringe until your neck breaks.

2. Zombies.
Zombies=Dead people that have come back to life. Nobody knows exactly how it's done. They vary between wanting flesh and brains. They don't die very easily. Sometimes you can kill them with fire, but not always. IT ALL DEPENDS ON THE KIND OF ZOMBIE. This is partially what makes them so dangerous. You can't tell what they'll do next. But it IS for sure that they'll lumber around and go "Urrrr...."
How To Fight Them: Since you don't know how to fight them, due to difference in species...RUN LIKE HELL. Got it?

3. The "We Need To Talk" Talk.
Parents, boyfriend, girlfriends, friends, teachers, and people close to you will generally say this when You Two Need To Talk. Now, this could either be dangerous or not. It depends on their tone. Listen for the tone. If the tone sounds low and ominous and doesn't change pitch much: "WE NEED TO TALK." It's probably going to be bad, or the person is just in a hurry. There is no way to combat this. You will avoid it and avoid it and avoid it as much as you can, but you won't be able to put it off forever. Just get it over with. Or go to Wal-Mart, buy lots of comfort food in case it's really bad news, and THEN get it over with.

4. Catching Your Ass On Fire.
I'm pretty sure that explains itself.
But it's not a good idea.

5. Bad Hair Days.
Pretty much the apocalypse in itself. Bad hair days are omens. They tell you that the rest of your day is going to be just as awful as your hair.

6. Having To Spell Weird Words Like "Pneumonia" And"Diarrhea" In Public.
And then your grandfather, who made you spell these words in the first place, decides it's also a good time to quiz you on whether or not you remember that tongue twister he taught you in first grade..."Theophalus Thistle, The Successful Thistle-Sifter."
Trust me.

To be continued....

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "Welcome, misfits, orphans all/the ones who feel they don't belong/you were made to rock/so stand up tall."
Title: Rock What You Got.
Artist: Superchick.

Bubbles Are Pretty Much Awesome.

The Mission: Get a picture of a bubble.
Once Completed, The Mission II: Get a picture of my brother looking through a bubble.
The Participants: Me, Nathan (my brother), Jenna (my sister), three bubble wands of various colors, my epically awesome Canon camera. It's my baby.

Now, first off, bubbles are COOL. You know how excited the caveman guy that discovered bubbles probably was when he was washing himself in his primitive washtub and suddenly, a primitive bubble floated out of his primitive soap, a shining, clean, rainbow swirly beacon of hope for our race! He probably rushed out of his bathtub and ran to tell all his caveman buddies, but when they went to see it, it had already popped and they were like, "Marvin, put your loincloth back on." He probably worked his caveman hiney off trying to recreate this bubble. And when he finally did, everyone agreed he was just too good for loincloths.

Of course, my camera isn't as high speed as I'd like it to be (I'm a cheap teenager without a job, okay? Cut me some slack, man), but I think I did pretty well in the art of bubble-photographing. It's totally an art, by the way. You have to be awesome and run around like a maniac after these bubbles trying to get the lens to focus on it. Ordinary people don't do that. Only those of us that are certifiably insane can truly succeed at this.

THE END PRODUCT:



BEHOLD. The first good picture of a bubble.







LOOK, IT'S POPPING ON HIS NOSE!



Well, he was really happy about SOMETHING.





TRIUMPH!





Okay. I have to do it. You don't want me to, but I have to.
Here it is:



OH. I DID IT.

So. That is our adventure in a nutshell.

Bubbles are a complete mystery to me. It's like, they're just so...bubbly. It's so crazy.

Also, if you get a chance, read Allie Brosh's latest blog. Something with the word "Alot" in the title. Not "a lot." "Alot." One word. www.hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com. Go there. Do it. Now.

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote of Note: "When the broken-hearted people living in the world agree/there will be an answer."
Title: Let It Be.
Artist: The Beatles.
^^^Tribute to Katie Stevens. I won't explain, because I'll sound like a complete nerd who has nothing better to do than watch T.V. Google. Wink.

Houston, WE HAVE A PROBLEM.

Okay, so I have a problem.
Blogger won't let me post comments. Like, I did for a while. But now when I try to, it doesn't let me! I NEED HELP. Por favor.

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Better Not Bare Your Buttocks To The Innocent Bystanders.

Has this week been super long? I think this week has been super long.
Just thought I'd throw that out there for your consideration.

SO. I have a story to tell you.
There we were. Me, my curly-haired best-bud Ashley (known by myself as Ashatay), and my extraordinarily tall friend Aaron's mother were all sitting in a car. Aaron's mother's car, to be exact.
There THEY were. The baseball boys. They were preparing for their game, all their cars parked in the same area, BLASTING some awful country music from their car speakers. I'm talking TWANGY country. Like, "my tractor is my only love because my girlfriend stole my car and my dog and now I'm gonna go sleep with lots of other women, that'll show her." THAT stuff. Nothing too terribly weird about it, other than the fact that they're willingly putting their ears through such torture. I'm sorry if you like country music. I'm allergic to it. It makes me break out.

That was when they started to take their pants off. Just strippin' down to their little spandex shortie thingies that they're trying to pass off as underwear. The three of us being fairly modest females, we all grimace, make an "ewh" face and look away.
BUT THEY AREN'T DONE.
Several minutes later, after they've lulled us into a false sense of security by putting their pants on, I turn around, looking for Aaron. I am met with a round, pale, shockingly hairy bare boy ass staring me in the face. YES, STARING. It was saying, "I HAVE JUST BRANDED MYSELF INTO YOUR BRAIN. YOU WILL NEVER GET THIS PICTURE OUT OF YOUR HEAD. FEAR MY HAIRINESS." I started yelling things like, "OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD." Aaron's mother was yelling things like, "EWH EWH EWH." She started to drive away and Ashley, who missed the whole thing, was yelling things like, "MY EYES ARE CLEAN. MY EYES ARE CLEAN!"
He and his buddies noticed and pointed and laughed at us.

I am scarred for life. FOR LIFE, I TELL YOU.

But you know what I was thinking after we left and I recovered slightly?
What the HELL did the people in FRONT of him see?

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "I'm sure I could be a movie star if I could get out of this place."
Title: Piano Man.
Artist: Billy Joel.
^^^CAPITAL song. Just fantastic.

Demon Squirrel Watches You Masturbate.

I'm all better! In case you wanted to know. IbuProfin made my fever go down and it just stayed there. It's like, the best drug ever. YAY DRUGS!
It's been reduced to occasional nose-faucet moments and little dry coughs.

My family and myself went to my grandparents' house this weekend celebrate Jesus's ability to not die properly. We drove down on my sick day and had pizza and all that jazz, and just happened to come in during the WORST MOVIE EVER: Journey to the Center of the Earth. The one with Brendan (Brenden? I don't like him enough to check the correct spelling of his name) Fraser (Frazier? Frasier? See previous parentheses). It's not the worst movie or anything very significant in the events of this weekend, I just had to say that because it truly is terrible, and if I didn't warn you, you might watch it and then I'd be responsible for your brain melting, boiling, and then jumping out of your head and running away screaming.
That could be bad.

The next day, I actually got SUNBURNED. Yes. It was warm and gorgeous outside, so I spent the entire day humiliating myself outside playing football. But, it was fantastic, and my cousin told me all about how he got to see Billy Joel and Elton John in concert and the very old gay man that sat next to him. His name was Dan, and apparently he got very excited over the fact that someone my cousin's age (my age) knew so much about B.J and E.J (we will not pause to make fun of Billy Joel's initials. Let's be semi-adults here for a moment). He also informed me that in his Spanish class, he enjoys saying everything in what he calls his "creepy Mexican voice" to aggravate his teacher.
He's my hero.
I ended up a bit Rudolph-ish.

That night, we were all getting ready for bed. You know how you pack all your bathroom items in a little plastic thingie or a Ziploc bag? Mine are in the former, thanks to a very useful Christmas present I got. Well, here's the thing. You know hand soap? How it's in those bottles where you press on the top of them (apologies for the terrible sentence structure, I just couldn't think of a better way to put it)? Do NOT put those in with anything else, because it will get EVERYWHERE. Inevitably. It will happen.
This DID happen.
I thought I'd gotten all of it off my toothbrush. But I didn't. So when I stuck it in my mouth and brushed and saw there was way more foam than normal (I couldn't taste it until after I'd spit the toothpaste out. Weird, right?), I realized...oh God, I just brushed my teeth with soap.
It was disgusting. It reminded me of what it would be like to eat some sort of plant. I don't know what kind of plant I was thinking of, but not a good plant. It just seemed plantish to me.

This morning, when we got up to go to church, I took a shower. My grandparents have certain bathrooms they like us all to use (one is the guys' and one is the girls' and one is just a bathtub, no shower, and one doesn't have a bathtub OR shower), and the girls' bathroom has a window in it. Just a random window, and not one of those frosted windows you see on showers and in some bathrooms. There is no place in the bathroom you can stand that will not be in view of the window. Of course, it didn't occur to me to just change in the shower, so I was drying off and putting my clothes on very cautiously, sneaking glances out the window to make sure the neighbors weren't peeking over their fence or whatever.
I DID, however, see some squirrels. Three. One was on the ground, and two were on the fence, just kind of sitting there and twitching (squirrels do not sit still, ever. They vibrate). It felt like they were watching me. I BET THEY WERE ROBOT SQUIRRELS. And the neighbors sent them to spy on the visitors while we were in the bathrooms!
Peeping Tom, this is Squirrel 100 requesting backup, they have dogs, repeat, DOGS.

It was fun, though. We got all prettied up and ate junk food and stuff. Not necessarily in that order, but you know.

Happy Easter!

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "If I could say what I wanna say/I'd say I wanna blow you away/Be with you every night/Am I squeezing you too tight?"
Title: Things I'll Never Say.
Artist: Avril Lavigne.
^^^THIS SONG IS IN MY HEAD
P.S. My cousin got me wanting to listen to Billy Joel and Elton John, so you should listen to Lullaby and The Longest Time and Piano Man (by the former) and Tiny Dancer and Someone Saved My Life Tonight (by the latter). Well, obviously because when I wanna listen to something I HAVE to recommend it to you.



Mafia Squirrel. Be afraid.

(Insert Awesome Title Here)

So. My two friends and I went to a Shinedown concert Sunday night. YEAH BABY.
First, we had to stand outside in a line waiting for the doors to open, and some guys carrying a cross that said R U Ready? on it stood up on a box thingie and started yelling things about Jesus to us. Just personally, I don't think a rock concert is the best place to convert people. We weren't even inside yet and already we were floating in clouds of marijuana. NOT OURS. Other stupid people. I'm fairly straight edge. No drugs, thank you.
ANYWAY.

We sat in the seats, not on the floor yet. The place was already packed, and as me and my buddies and Buddy Number One's mom were clinging to each other so we wouldn't get lost, some creep behind us said, "Look, people are holding onto each other so they won't get separated. Hey, hold on to me, I'll lead you the right way." Yeah, no thanks.

Warm-Up Band Numero Uno was some band called Sore Eyes. They were terrible; their lead singer sounded like a choir reject who was trying to sound like a rock star. He failed miserably. I felt bad for them, almost, because (to quote a book) "the air was half-conversation." It was three-fourths conversation. There were a couple tone deaf weirdos at the very front who were cheering, but I think they were just too high to care.

Warm-Up Band Numero Dos was another "some band" called Automatic Fire. They were better, but they still sounded like a boy band trying to be rockers. Basically, the warm-up bands did NOT warm up the crowd by any means.

Shinedown was next, so we linked arms and went to the floor. We got really close to the front, JUST inside the tape that marked where we were allowed to stand. But another creepy old guy asked Buddy Number Two if she had any pot, so we swung around to the other side, again, just inside the tape. It seemed like everything was happening where we were. The security guard people took a bunch of crazy people outside, and we were so closely packed together that when they had to forcefully drag people out, we'd all fall on top of each other because they'd shove us.

We looked up at the stage, and this light was shining on a white curtain. Behind it you could see the silhouette of the band. They started their first guitar riff and the crowd screamed. The curtain fell, and the music started. This is my favorite part of concerts; when everybody comes together as one writhing, screaming mass and lets the music move us.
However, there's always that one person that decided twelve beers was a good idea. Well, there's like a hundred of those people, but they only bother you one or two at a time. Like the lady that was dancing behind us...she was taller than me, so she was holding her beer above my head. She spilled it down both my sleeves in her drunken dancing. She also spilled it into this one lady's hair, but she didn't notice, and her hair kept hitting me. It was really long and felt like being hit with a beer-soaked towel.

Shinedown's lead singer talks way too much. He likes to talk about love a lot, too. He DID dedicate one song to all the women in the crowd, though (If You Only Knew). All the concerts I've been to, at least one band has. Sometimes it's a dirty song, like Addicted by Saving Abel or Dirty Little Thing by Adelitas Way (both of them, by the way, are FANTASTIC). It's kind of funny.

It was spectacular. And after we left, we went to Steak N'Shake, which was nearby and it seemed to be where all the post-concert hungry people went. And everything tastes better after inhaling the smoke of a concert. Plus, you're starving.

We got home around midnight, feeling very rebellious.

I'm sick today. It was weird. I woke up five times last night, shaking. Then I got up at six because my head hurt, and when I stood up the entire room spun and I almost fell, nearly impaling my feet on my high heels that were just lying on the floor. I went upstairs and drugged myself with IbuProfin and went into the bathroom to lie feebly beside the toilet.
I feel better now, though. IbuProfin is a MIRACLE.

I feel that this post was rather boring. Oh, well. Usually when I go places or do things I just like to document it. In case I lose my memory randomly or something.

I apologize. Here's a playlist to make up for it.

The "I Am Sick Today" Playlist:
1. Cry Me A River by Michael Buble.
2. Fallen by Sarah McLachlan.
3. I'm So Sick by Flyleaf.
4. It's The End Of The World As We Know It by R.E.M.
5. I Will Come Through by Sister Hazel.
6. Hot N Cold by Katy Perry.
7. No More by Drowning Pool.
8. Medicate by A.F.I.
9. Pony (It's O.K) by Erin McCarley.
10. Foreverandeverandever....etc. by David Crowder* Band.
11. How I Feel by Kelly Clarkson.
12. Run Runaway by Slade.
13. S.O.S by Rihanna.
14. Stayin' Alive by the Bee Gees.
15. What Goes Around Comes Around by Justin Timberlake.
16. Rehab by the Glee Cast.
17. Goin' Down by Three Days Grace.
18. Overcome by Creed.
19. I Just Laugh by Nevershoutnever.
20. Learn My Lesson by Daughtry.

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "We belong to the light, we belong to the thunder."
Title: We Belong.
Artist; Pat Benatar.

Metal Mouth Contemplates The End Of Spring Break.

So I got braces.
It was fairly anticlimactic. I expected to come back from the orthodontist with all kinds of stories for you that I could exaggerate and make exciting. But basically, all that happens is...
They take out your spacers (which is like that feeling you get when a panda sits on you for a long time and then he gets up).
They test all these little metal things to see if they fit around your teeth (if they do, it's fine. If they don't, it kind of hurt...see? There's not even any horrible pain to tell you about!).
When they find metal rings that fit, they glue them on. The glue tastes awful. It's supposed to be cherry-flavored. It tastes like glue with a tiny squirtage of cherry on it. It's not even good cherry. It's like that nasty artificial stuff that they put in cough syrup. The metal rings feel weird.
They put this white thing in your mouth that stretches your lips and keeps them open. This also feels weird, and you feel rather ridiculous.
They glue the brackets on your teeth. Then they let you wash out your mouth. This also feels weird.
There's just a lot of weirdness involved.

On the other end, my teeth STILL hurt and I STILL have trouble eating. But not as much. And the first few days the metal rubs against your lips and absolutely SHREDS them. However, they get calluses and it's all better.
Yaaaay.

On Thursday, my grandmother took my sister and me Easter shopping. This is a yearly tradition. My grandparents are generally LOADED. My mother says they just manage their money well.

They're LOADED.

So. We went out to eat at Applebee's. Yumyum. Then we went to the mall. The mall is a terrifying place. First of all, if you don't spend every weekend there, you have NO idea where ANYTHING is.
"OHMYGOD. I SWEAR this was NOT a dirty playthings store the last time I was here. OHMYGOD."
That never actually happened. But I think it would be funny.

Second of all, everyone is there with their friends. And all of these people will be wearing skinny jeans. I promise.
Third of all, SOMEBODY will think it was a good idea to wear chains.
Fourth, every single store will make you feel poor unless you are loaded yourself.

We went everywhere that had something even remotely LIKE an Easter dress. There is a process to dress shopping. Generally, it runs in several phases.
1. DRESS SHOPPING! YAYLET'SGOSHOPPING! IT IS UNBELIEVABLE HOW EXCITED I AM! SQUEAL!
2. Wow. This is big. There are a lot of (insert whatever you are shopping for) here. Let's do this, baby!
3. Okay. Nothing here. Let's keep going. Yes. We'll find something.
4. We'll find SOMETHING.
5. You found something? Ooh, that looks good on you. Let's get it!
6. All right. S/he /they found something. I didn't. Now I'm the only one left. LET'S MOVE, PEOPLE!
7. WHY ISN'T THERE ANYTHING?!?!
8. Now all that's left is to shop at the really expensive stores. Grandma?/Mom?/Dad?/Grandpa?/Relative?/My Wallet? This is going to be an investment. I apologize.
9. Okay, let's TRY this place.
10. OHMYGOD. I FOUND ONE. I LOVE IT I LOVE IT I LOVE IT!
11. Holy #$@#$#@$@$##@$#@$#%$#$##$ WHY IS IT SO EXPENSIVE? GET MY COLLEGE FUND. I'LL SELL MY SOUL TO THE DEVIL. I NEED THIS (insert whatever you are shopping for)!
12. I got it. Muahahaha. I will look much sexier than you. Hahaha.

Leave out number twelve if you are a good person.

Depending on who you are, shopping for shoes and accessories will be a much easier experience. By then, you're exhausted and you would very much enjoy going home. Unless you're one of those hardcore shoppers that can go forever. There are generally two steps here.
1. Ooh, these are pretty.
2. THEY HAVE MY SIZE. LET'S GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE.

I'll tell you a secret.
I do not wear high heels. I have ridiculously weak ankles and terrible balance. I trip over my own feet when I wear FLAT shoes. I'm one of THOSE people. I'm supposed to practice on my brand new rather tall heels. Four inches, maybe? Doesn't sound tall, but trust me. They are.
Who decided heels were a good idea?
A man. I bet it was a man. And he was screwed over by a woman as a teenager, and she scarred him forever so he decided..."Yes. We'll make something very strappy and tiny and spiky. And they have to balance on it."
"Uh, Johnny, these are really tight. They kind of hurt."
"Kind of? Go a size down. You should want to die."

That's exactly what happened.

Another secret: I actually really like wearing them (mostly because I only have to wear them once a year). Shhhh. That's like, against the women's code.

BEAUTY IS PAIN.
Haha. Whoever said that was probably a man, too.

Screw it, barefoot is better.

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "I'm taking pictures with my mind."
Title: Atmosphere.
Artist: Shinedown.
P.S. In honor of it being the last day of spring break, I'm going to a Shinedown concert tonight with my friend and her mother. We return from the most awesome concert ever (besides Rockfest 2009. That was pretty fantastic) at midnight. On a Sunday night. So rebellious. Especially since our parents gave us permission. Yeah. Rock on. \m/(>.<)\m/

This Post Written Under The Influence Of Pirates.

I am in the middle of a Pirates of the Caribbean marathon. MARATHON, I TELL YOU. Although, during the first one I was getting all ready. It's Spring Break, baby! So, I haven't done anything but lounge around in pajamas. Today we actually have to do stuff, so I spruced up a little. Then, I was having hair problems, so I was rushing around trying to solve them. IT'S A CRISIS.

Do you know what stuff we have to do?
I have to get BRACES.

GASP!

No biggie, right?
Not for experienced people.
But I've never had toothal problems before. This is like, the Before post. So that after I get braces I can look back and be like...ah, how naive I was.
Or not.

I have a playlist for you!
I make playlists for occasions. Sometimes they're nothing, like a Cooking playlist for that time I made dinner for my family. And sometimes they're playlists for friends, like the Cocky French Boy playlist (nicknames are nicknames...). And sometimes they're actual occasions, like the New Year's Eve playlist.
My playlists are generally twenty songs. This one is short because I'm making it up off the top of my head and we have to leave soon.

The Getting Braces playlist.
1. Smile by Lily Allen.
2. Livin' On A Prayer by Bon Jovi.
3. Mirror by Barlow Girl.
4. Help! by The Beatles.
5. Paper Bag by Anna Nalick.
6. Save Me From Myself by Vertical Horizon.
7. 21st Century Breakdown by Green Day.
8. Someday by Rob Thomas.
9. In The End by Linkin Park.
10. Heregoesnothin by Nevershoutnever.
11. Scream by Adelitas Way.
12. I Could Get Used To This by Train.
13. Dear Agony by Breaking Benjamin.
14. 100 Years by Five For Fighting
15. Miniature Disasters by K.T. Tunstall.

Some of them I choose for the title, and some of them I choose for the lyrics.
MY RULES FOR MAKING PLAYLISTS:
1. Never ever ever ever ever EVER repeat an artist.
2. When making C.D's for people, never ever ever EVER repeat songs.
3. I like to make my mixes surprise people. Like, a rock song goes into classical, or jazz to metal. My dad, the true master of mixes, likes to make them flow into each other. Like, a rock song to another rock song to a rock ballad to a slow song.
4. Never ever ever EVER break the rules for making playlists.

And so ends the Before post.

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "Miniature disasters, minor catastrophes/bring me to my knees."
Title: Miniature Disasters.
Artist: K.T. Tunstall.

Space Face Lives On IbuProfin And Tylenol.

Space Face: Me. 

IbuProfin and Tylenol: The reason I'm alive right now. 

So. I got spacers. What you do: You walk into the orthodontist after your friends have given you a big BIG boost of confidence..."Spacers are the WORST part." "Oh, God, they hurt SO MUCH." "EWH, spacers? Have fun..." And you sit in the waiting room and watch this twelve-year-old boy before you cling to his mother's hand and sob his way into HIS spacers. Then, you sit in the chair and the spacer lady who is about to kill you shows you how she's gonna do it. Basically, she threads two pieces of dental floss through these deceptively tiny blue rubber bands, and stretches it out, and flosses it into your teeth. Painless and easy, right? 

HELL NO. 

She starts threading it into your teeth and you're thinking, "Okay. Okay. This isn't THAT bad." But then, you feel this CRACK and it's exactly like when you have a loose tooth and you just pulled it out. It makes the same noise, too. And she clicks it into place and it just becomes a dull ache in your mouth. She then proceeds to do this eleven more times. 

Everyone I talked to has had anywhere from two to eight spacers. Twelve, apparently, is a pretty big number. It's a good sympathy-getter, because by now, pretty much everybody who will ever need spacers had gotten them and they know how terrible it is. 

She finishes trying to murder me, and I sit up and see the floss covered in my blood and wonder how the orthodontist could enjoy her job. I couldn't decide whether it was stoicism or whether she was just Satan in a lab coat. 

You go to bed that night thinking, "Okay. My teeth just kind of ache. I think I can do this." 

But you wake up, and your whole MOUTH hurts. Your front teeth and your back teeth and your gums...it even hurts when your tongue bumps your teeth. For breakfast, I eat oatmeal. For lunch, I eat yogurt. And for supper I have to muscle my way through whatever I CAN eat. The second night we had tacoes, and there was no way I was going to pass that up. I can sort of, like...chew things on my right side really gently. But only if they can halfway dissolve by themselves or be swallowed in fairly large pieces. 

IbuProfin and Tylenol are my new best friends. But today, so I wouldn't, like, die or anything, I wasn't allowed to have anything. Also, bottled water. Since it's cold, I drink it ALL DAY. I peed four times in four hours the other day (totally vital information to you, I know). Apparently this semi-horror when I get my braces. On Tuesday. Countdown: Two days. 

It's unbelievable how much food you have to chew. It's like when you pull a muscle, and you never realized how much you USE that muscle until you can't use it. 

It's kind of an adventure. It's also horrid. But an adventure nonetheless. 

Love

Love

Love

Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "I'm a little left of center. I'm a little out of tune. Some say I'm paranormal." 

Title; You Get Me. 

Artist: Michelle Branch. 

BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO GOOD PEOPLE.

I WROTE A BLOG AND IT TOOK ME AN HOUR.
I TRIED TO PUBLISH IT
BUT IT SAID THERE WAS AN ERROR AND TOLD ME TO PRESS THE BACK BUTTON ON MY BROWSER SO I DID AND IT DELETED EVERYTHING I WROTE.

I screamed.
Really loudly.
In my living room.

Reality:
I am not a starving child in Haiti.
I do not have cancer.
I'm not going to die.

Reality Number Two:
WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Pinch Me, I Must Be Irish.

Guess what?
IT’S ST. PATRICK’S DAY.

Don’t you feel terrible for any poor sap not wearing green? They’re walking into school, minding their own little business, mentally preparing themselves for their school day, meditating upon their breakfast cereal (or lack thereof). Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, a monster wearing entirely green jumps out from behind a corner! It sprints toward the unsuspecting non-green-wearer and attacks, using only its index finger and thumb! But this is no ordinary pincher. This is the person that wore even green underwear and has just been waiting behind that pillar over there for ONE person to not wear green. These are the people who pinch you RIGHT WHEN THEY SEE YOU, before you can lift up your sleeve and tell them “I’M WEARING A GREEN BRACELET, DAMN YOU!”

Then, there are the cheaters. Usually, they forget to wear green, and to avoid being pinched, they come up with some kind of substitute.

Option 1: Draw a clover on your hand with green Sharpie. Perfect.
Option 2: “Touch me and you die.”

Option 2 seems to be very popular today.

Guess what else?
I’m blogging in school again. I feel like such a rebel. But we’re in the computer lab and I did my work already and I don’t know what else to do and I hide it very well…I PROMISE. I’M NOT A BAD PERSON. MY TWO SHOES ARE GOODY.

I get spacers today. I feel young when I say that (granted, I AM young). You pass all these blogs about people and their children and THEIR spacers, and I’m getting them myself. I like to tell people just to see their reaction…they usually make some sort of face and tell me how much they’re going to hurt.

But my mother usually gets us ice cream when we get spacers.

ICE CREAM

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: “We’re not all the same.”
Title: What A Shame.
Artist: Shinedown.

To Write Love On Her Fingernails.

I wrote "Love" on my fingernails!
Exciting, right?

Guess what.
There is a phantom spider in my bathroom! O.o
I was standing in there, getting ready for bed, when suddenly, this hairy monstrosity begins crawling slowly from the depths of my shower across the wall towards me! I ran to my room, grabbed the biggest shoe I could find, and ran back in. Unfortunately, it was at an awkward angle, so when I slammed the shoe against the wall to squish the thing, it fell onto the floor. I slammed the shoe over it again, and missed. Then, again. I hit it this time, and its legs crumpled up over its body and it died. Or so I thought. I left it there because I was tired and didn't wanna touch it. Being a secret Pacifist, I felt a little guilty for killing it.
I woke up the next morning and walked in to shower and stuff, and the spider was...gone. Disappeared. The shoe was there, right where I'd left it, but the spider had vanished.
So, now there's a ghost of a spider floating around, teleporting in and out of my bathroom and probably crawling on me at night, laughing at me. And one night I'm going to wake up and realize it's creeping up my leg, trying to kill me for trying to kill it.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The title of this blog post is a spin off of To Write Love On Her Arms. I wasn't sure what it was, so I googled it and came up with an organization trying to stop suicide and things. It reminded me of Operation Beautiful.
Here are the sites if you wanna check em out. People trying to make a difference in the world. A little difference, but a difference nonetheless. That's pretty B.A, if you ask me (or if you don't). I salute you!
www.twloha.com/vision/
www.operationbeautiful.com

Yesterday, the choir and band went to solo and ensemble contest. Basically, all the music kids (that wanna participate) in the state get together in a high school and sing and play music and show off how good they are alone or in small groups. We hang out and get nervous and play our stuff and get rated (1-5, 1 being the absolute best. You also go to State competition if you get a 1, where you have to be HARDCORE BEST OF THE BEST INSANE PRODIGIES to get a 1) and then get really happy or incredibly depressed. Especially if you're a freshman.
Junior High: Unless you just completely screw up, you will get a 1.
High School: A 2 is really, really good.
But you still expect 1's in the back of your mind.
Anyway, I met these two random guys there while my friend and I were sitting in the auditorium waiting for his piano solo to come. Their names were Colin and Tucker. But I called Colin "Fred" because he wouldn't tell me what his name was and his friend told me his name was "Cupcakesnufflupagus" or something along those lines.

He told me fried chicken solves everything.
Wise words, Fred.

I'm trying to find art blogs. You know, those blogs that post challenges every month or so? So that whenever I feel crafty (I make PUNS), I can make crap. If you find one, do tell, por favor.

How I know my Spanish class is actually working:
My friend asked me how I was in Spanish.
And I answered.
In Spanish.
I was proud of myself.

Soy muy cansada, pero contento.

We watched the Phantom of The Opera today! The movie version with Gerard Butler. It was pretty good. I liked the music best. The storyline itself gets hard to follow.
But music: A++++++++++++++++.
Gorgeous. Gorgeous.
Gah.


Love
Love
Love on my fingernails,
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "I can take you away from here."
Title: All I Wanted.
Artist: Michelle Branch.

Old Habits Die Easily.

Here's the thing.
I've been blogging since...what, seventh, eighth grade? It's freshmeat year and suddenly I can't do it anymore!
Let's use the catchphrase of the day and say...
EPIC FAIL.
I used to blog every day. Sometimes multiple times. Then every other, then every two, and then my blogging patterns would become...erratic. Blog...two days. BLOGBLOGBLOG...three more days pass. BLOG...seven days pass. Like a chipmunk on ecstasy.
Twitch. Twitch.
So, MY LIFETIME GOAL: To blog more frequently. If I can accomplish this by the time I die, I will have died a very pale, wide-eyed computer maniac. But I will have accomplished my lifetime goal, so yay me.

I'm going to do it. I am. I'm going to talk about...THE WEATHER. Yes. The thing people talk about when they have Absolutely Nothing to say.
It was BEAUTIFUL outside today. By Beautiful I mean seventy degrees and berr-eezy.
NOT Beautiful: Booty shorts.
Dear Teenage Girls,
People are prettier with clothes on.
Except Johnny Depp, maybe...and probably that one guy in that one class I have...
ANYWAY.
I don't appreciate catching glimpses of your magenta underwear (I SHOULDN'T KNOW THAT IT'S MAGENTA).
Thank you.
Sincerely,
A Fellow Female Who Is Much More Modest Than You And Thinks You Are A Bit Of A Whore. Especially You, Freshman Girl Who Did Naughty Things With That Senior On The Band Bus And Now We Can't Go To Overnight Competitions Because Of You, You Little STD-Ridden Skank.

Ahem. I mean...uhm...{insert quiet, shy comment here}

My Wish:
That I could do what Hyperbole And A Half's author Allie does.
Yes. I'm talking about her again. But she's, like, one of my blogging idols in the world of Blogging For The Hell Of It. She takes a random topic and writes random things about it and somehow stretches it out and adds pictures so that it takes up several pages and is somehow so hilarious that it has me and my friend falling to pieces in the library until our poor English teacher is yelling at us in the library and then the librarians (who I'm pretty sure are possessed) are yelling at her and then God looks down and goes,
"WHY YOU BITCHES YELLING IN MAH LIBRARY?!"

OH! We went and saw (We being my parents, brother, sister, myself, and my imaginary friend Howard) Alice In Wonderland! Not in 3-D because we're cheap.
It was FANTASTIC.
My parents thought it was just "good." But I loved it. I don't normally do movie reviews, but I'm gonna do a mini one. And nobody can stop me. Bahaha.
It was incredibly imaginative, and just so DETAILED I bet you'd catch something new about it if you watched it a hundred times. The score was fantastic, and the acting was amazing, and everything about it was just GREAT.
HOWEVER.
I haven't read the book.
I'm going to. Probably. Maybe, sort of. But that's what I think.

I was GOING to upload a picture of us playing Apple Juice Pong at the flute party...but my computer is being horribly awful, so you'll just have to believe me...

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "One, a-two, a-three shoo-bee-doo."
Title: I Love You 5.
Artist: Nevershoutnever.
^^^P.S. Not the BEST quote, but this song is stuck in my head and I had to do SOMETHING.

Consistency Fail. Newly Condemned.

That's right, condemned. To die. Or get braces. Y'know, it's pretty much the same thing.

So the past week I've been trying to get up the motivation to blog. Even if nobody reads it, I try to do it for posterity. Or to prove to myself that yes, I CAN actually keep something up for more than a year. Or just because I can. Here's what I did. I compiled, all in my noggin, the pointless stories and anecdotes of My Life As A Non-Potato Homosapien. Just for you. That's right. You're special. FEEL SPECIAL.

Anyway. Today, I went to the orthodontist. Exciting, right? So we sit down, and my orthodontist gets out those pictures of my teeth and that plaster cast of my teeth and makes red marks.
"Here is where her jaw is."
"Here's where it's s'posed to be."
"Here's where this tooth is. And this tooth. They're s'posed to line up."
"Here's her jaw. Here's how it's set on top of the bottom jaw. It's s'posed to be like this."
Ohhhhh sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeet.
"She'll have braces, top and bottom, and rubber bands for 28 to 36 months."
WHAT?!?!?!?!??!
That's...
Two years.
My eyes got really big and the orthodontist laughed at me.

I'm pretty sure the "Orthodontasaur" was a type of dinosaur. Then they evolved into people and are now planning to strap metal to my teeth. Silly dinosaur instincts.

I had a dream last night. A weird one.
See, there was a group of us, and we were all running from one place to another, and I wanted to be first. Since I was feeling particularly fast in this dream, I ran ahead. Then all these jock boys caught up to me and started to pass me, but I sped up. I think. Something happened, and we had to stop in some sort of convenience store that I'm PRETTY sure was in another dream of mine. So we were all hanging around and then it got dark and I got mad because I hadn't run enough that day. Apparently, I was psycho in this dream. Then my best friend, who was in the dream, turned into a lesbian and confessed that she was in love with me.
Then I think I woke up.
Or something else happened.
It was one of THOSE dreams, y'know? Where your subconscious is POSITIVE your alarm is going to go off, so it kinda half wakes you up so you can check the clock, and you think, "I HAVE to remember this dream," but that wakes you up all the way and then your alarm DOES go off and then you forget it.
It's very sad, really.

I had STORIES, I promise. But they just FLEW out the window the second I started watching American Idol.
Hmm. Is there a direct correlation between the two?
Or just a bizarre coincidence?
THE WORLD MAY NEVER KNOW.

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "I've got sunshine on a cloudy day when it's cold outside."
Title; My Girl.
Artist; The Temptations.
^^^Classic, classic, classic. Also, Aaron Kelly sang this on Idol today, and I LOVE HIM. He's like a puppy. I just wanna hug him.

This Is A Breakthrough In Modern Rulebreaking!

I'm blogging at school! I'm BLOGGING at SCHOOL, people!

In case you don't remember, high school is a little bit like being in a low security prison. Obviously, laptops are off-limits. However, our S.T.A.R class (the fancy pants name for study hall) randomly got a bunch of laptops, and our teacher lets us use them as much as we want.

So, I'm BLOGGING in SCHOOL! And I just think it's a miracle.

This morning, in first hour, we got CAKE, because my band teacher got Secondary Teacher Of The Year, so we got CAKE. It was YUMMY. We also got punch, but it wasn't actually punch. I'm pretty sure it was just cherry water. I drank it anyway because I can and who's gonna miss out on a chance to drink punch in band?

It's FRIDAY. FRIDAY. Being in school makes you love Fridays even more because teachers are a little more lenient and everybody's thinking about their weekend plans and all that jazz. I'm super-duper-extra-terrestrial-excited because *insert squealy valley girl voice here* I'M GOING TO A BIRTHDAY PARTAY! Yay me. *uninsert squealy valley girl voice here*

I swear I was gonna talk about something else...and as soon as I publish this it'll come back to me...well, the bell's about to ring anyway.

Abuhhhhbye.

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "Lalalalallalalalala."
^^^I can't think of anything and I have like two minutes (or ten).

My Legs! What Did You Do With My Legs?

Okay, so here's Tha Deal (Tha Deal, people, she's about to reveal THA DEAL).
My legs KILL. That's it.
Swimming season just ended, y'know? So I have NO means of exercise. And I have too much energy. I've started relieving this energy in nonconstructive ways, such as ninja-sprinting through the clothing section at Wal-Mart while giggling madly and almost running people over. I'm pretty sure there are four random Wal-Mart-goers that hate me now.

Anyway, yesterday, I randomly decided on the way home from Wal-Mart...hey, I should run. I haven't run since Thanksgiving. Let's RUN! And I got all motivated, like, "Oh my god I just can't wait to run and I haven't run in such a long time I JUST CAN'T WAIT TO RUN! DAD, DO YOU WANT TO COME WITH ME?" After dragging my dad into it, I got my shoes and stuff on, and set out into the thirty degree weather for a lovely evening jog.

We walk up The Hill Of Death to The Warm Up Street and stretch, running down The Warm Up Street to warm up (see where it gets its name?) and getting all started. Suddenly, my feet feel like I'm jogging motivated-ly through frozen mud. The arches of my feet start throbbing, and my ankles feel kind of like a bunch of very strong four-year-olds are whacking them with those little plastic hammers. My lungs are full of freezing icicles, and my shoulders feel like somebody tied cinder blocks to them.

Suddenly, I'm not so motivated anymore.

So we're jogging. We're jogging. I'm dying, so I ramble to keep from thinking about how I'm going to die from all this wonderful exercise. It starts to get dark.
Now, we live kind of Out There. Not in the middle of One-Horse, One-Dog, One-Flea Town Out There, but pretty Out There. We get deer and stuff.
We're jogging. Last stretch comes, and it's pretty much pitch-black.
Then.
I hear rustling in the bushes.
I stare, wide-eyed into the darkness like you do when you wanna see something in the dark (never works, either), and see nothing. I glance at my father, jogging bravely onward. I follow, positive a rabid bear with foaming jaws and fiery red eyes is gonna jump out and eat us.

We got home safely, without any bear attacks. But if we'd seen a bear, I totally would've pwned it. No doubt about it.

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "Things are gonna happen, naturally."
Title: You And I Both.
Artist: Jason Mraz.
^^^I love him I love him I love him. He is fantastically talented. Right up there with Michael Buble (with an accent on the e).

Houston, We Have A Problem. I Thought Your Name Was Johnny.

So here's the problem. Y'know that big long story I was talking about? Well, I wrote it, because I keep a blog going on Facebook as well as this one (that's right. Envy my ninja powers), and it turned out to be REALLY boring. Like, textbook boring. I didn't even make any critical observations! I stared at my screen in horror and clicked "Publish" anyway because I was tired and it took me forever to write.

The Final Decision: I'll just recount the funny, generally awesome parts. Or maybe I'll end up recounting the whole thing but trying to make it exciting with lots of exaggerations and probably some pirates.

Here's the story. I went to State for swimming as an alternate. State is like the big-shot, big-time, best-of-the-best-of-the-best. This is why I went as an alternate. Not quite even sure why I was chosen. But hell, I'm not complaining.

So we left on Thursday, in the morning on a charter bus, without even going to school. I got a four day weekend. Ha. Haha. HAHAHA.
Gloating over.
Two of my favorite funny things happened at Italian restaurants. I don't know what it is with those people, but for some reason good things happen around twenty teenage girls and their coaches. One of our coaches is the diving coach, and he's likes to torture us girls. So EVERY restaurant we went to, he'd roll up his straw and throw it at me, then pretend it wasn't him.
"DARRELL!"
"Whaaaat?"
Then, on the way home, I threw a bag of mixed nuts at him and he threw it back, and I threw it BACK...then I'm pretty sure our coach told him to stop because he's a party pooper and he wanted to watch Indiana Jones even though it was much bloodier and disgusting-er than I remember.

ANYWAY. Back to the Italians.
The first night, we went to this tiny place called Franchesco's. Now, this place truly was tiny. It was independently owned, and about the size of my living room. We had the wrong number, so we couldn't call ahead, and these poor people had one cook and one waitress and were NOT prepared for us. The cook had to call in her husband, the owner (who, for some bizarre reason, is NOT named Franchesco), and he had to bring in all his kids and everybody. It took two hours to finally get our food (poor waitress...). This other girl and I got served last. Sooooo...
Waiter/Owner: Who got the last two plates of Fettuccine Alfredo?
Me and That Other Girl: *Raises hands*
Waiter/Owner: THEN YOU GET A FLYING MONKEY.
He gave us each an actual flying monkey. Like, one of those stuffed ones that you stretch out and let go and when it hits something it screams? It was pretty fantastic. Kyle and Kyle (the assistant coaches...yes, those are their names) shot them at each other.

Next.
The Awesome Italian Guy.
We went to Macaroni Grill, and after we'd been served and everything, we looked up and saw this waiter guy, and he LOOKED Italian with his curly dark hair, and he just started singing in Italian. Just randomly, in the middle of the restaurant. He had this GORGEOUS tenor voice, and I think my feet melted into a puddle under the table. When he finished, all of us girls applauded wildly and he said,
"Best audience I ever had."
Uh-huh. Uh-huh.
He sang twice more for us. I wanted a picture with him, but he left. Then I got very depressed and went into my corner to cry but my dessert came and I had to eat it or the Apocalypse would come.
I'm going to go back someday and take him home with me and keep him forever.
Shh, don't tell my boyfriend.

FLYING MONKEY WAR!!!

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "I get to kiss you, baby, just because I can."
Title: Everything.
Artist: Michael Buble.
^^^P.S. There's actually an accent over his name somewhere...and I usually don't do mushy-gushy song quotes, but this song is just the sweetest song ever! It gives me cavities to listen to it (sweet, cavities, get it? HahahahahahahaaSHUT UP, I'M TIRED)...And Monsieur Buble has the most gorgeous voice...Anyway, it's just adorable, and I kinda wanna take him home too, so he can provide background music with Italian restaurant guy while Mozart and I are hangin.'

Procrastination Is Really A Delicate Process.

And it should not be done by anyone other than a professional.
Which includes me. I have a degree and four Olympic medals in Procrastinating.

SO! I have two stories to tell you, one of which is very long and descriptive and basically a very detailed recounting of one of my recent experiences. It could be epic. Or very boring. The other is short, pointless, and can be pushed and pulled and exaggerated and hyperbole-ized into oblivion. So I'm gonna go with that one first.

Vital Information: My Science teacher is a zombie. Really. And she looks like a Who. No serious offense to her, but it's just a fact of life. Anyway. She teaches her class with the skills of an elementary student. She's a nice enough person if you can get her to talk about something other than Science. But that's the only non-zombie/Who thing about her.

The Assignment: Write Results, Discussion, Conclusions, Bibliography, and Abstract of Science Project.

Science Project: Absolute Hell. I decided I was going to test the effects of energy drinks on physical performance (not that. RUNNING). It was not a good idea.

Back to The Assignment From Satan. Anyway, all those things I just listed are basically the same thing over and over. Just different lengths. The Results are IN the Discussion and the Conclusion, and the Abstract is a summary of your Conclusion, and the Bibliography is where you got the information for La Project Of HORRIDAWFULDISGUSTINGNESS.

I've been sitting here for an hour. I wrote my Results and part of my Discussion. Then, I realized, ohmygosh, I haven't read Hyperbole And A Half (best blog ever. And a half) in forever. I read all her (meaning Allie, meaning the author) recent posts. Then, I decided I wanted to listen to music. So I spent ten minutes trying to find the damn headphone hole in the computer and logging onto Pandora (they've started putting ADS in between your songs, DID YOU KNOW THAT??? I've lost faith in the online music industry for about five minutes...). Then I decided I needed to write a blog, because WHAT IF PEOPLE WANNA READ IT? I haven't posted anything in days, and you all know how the blogging industry needs my posts (PAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAno).

Procrastination requires a certain skill. And that skill is suppressing the guilt reflex properly. As you procrastinate, you realize..."My work is NOT getting done." And then the little devil and the little angel appear on your shoulder and you look at the devil and she grins at you in her little red dress and says, "Hey, girlfriend. You're hungry, you really have to pee, Blogspot is calling you...you've been gone all weekend, dear, you should get some rest. This stuff can wait. You don't care about it anyway, do you?" And the angel in her white nun's habit robe thing adjusts her halo and says in a British accent, "Don't listen to her! You need a good grade in this class! Are you an honors student or aren't you?" And then you flick her wings and say,
"Psh, bitch, I want me some Cheez-its."
Then you go get Cheez-its, cause you're hungry and the calzones won't be ready for a couple hours.

While all this is going on, you're texting your boyfriend named Mozart and singing along with Michelle Branch and Toby Lightman and sometimes Metallica.
Meanwhile, you realize that the Red Bull you tested earlier for your experiment actually kind of worked and suddenly Lady Marmalade (the song that taught us all to say "Will you go to bed with me?" in French) comes on your iPod and if you don't sing along and do some sort of stripper dance then the world will fall into the hands of zombies like your Science teacher.

It's a no brainer, really.

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir."
Title: Lady Marmalade.
Artist: Christina Aguilera, Pink, Mya, Lil' Kim.

It's Valentine's Day Eve!

Aren't you excited?
Tomorrow is the day when singles from all over the nation get together for Hating The Couples parties. Burn pictures of your exes! Eat lots of chocolate and cookie dough! Drink wine! Talk about how much you hate Valentine's Day!

So, I went on Google to find out what to get my boyfriend for Valentine's Day (aren't we just so cute, exchanging gifts in the hallway between classes?). Turns out, EVERYBODY has this problem and they all say the same thing: CDs, chocolate, cologne, or shirts. Hmm. Last Minute Gifts: 1. Creativity: 0. At least I'm not alone in this.

A girl on the swim team made a bunch of little owls for all of us. They are the best things ever. JUST LOOK:



Mine is light blue and dark blue. His name is Walter. I love him. There's also Lucille, Kitty, and a few others...
Also, we did this thing called "capping" where a bunch of us get in a circle in the water, grab hold of a swim cap (the stretchy things swimmers wear on their heads) and dunk it under the water and back up, stretching it. Then a person jumps in it. We managed to fit three of us in there before it broke. It was pretty fantastic.

I was going to say something else. I was. Goddangit.

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "Believe me, you never met a motherfucker like me."
Title: Invincible.
Artist: Adelitas Way.
^^^P.S. Best song EVER to have in your head for a race or some contest that requires battle music.

Due To Overextensive Hugging, Will Not Be Going To School Today.

I have exciting things to say.
Many of them are trivial, but I will try to make them as painless as possible.

Here's the story:
My best friend's name is Richard Clayborne Barnard II. This is not a lie. That is his actual name. He goes by Clay. But I call him Mozart, because he writes music in class out of his head like a fucking genius.

I've known him for seven years.
Our friends have been giving us crap about him being a boy and me being a girl and us not going out for seven years.

Today he asked me out.
All our friends reactions, plus our mothers': "FINALLY."
All in all, good day. Good day.

So. Superbowl. Remember how I was talking about awesome babies? And how I hang out with THEM at the Superbowl parties? Well, here's the thing about babies. They grow. And the adorable little three-year-old I babysat that one time is now a scary four-year-old who is in that phase where he thinks he is the king of the world and everything else. He's still sweet, but I, being an inexperienced teenager, freak out when he doesn't like what I'm doing. We were playing with Legos in the host's child's room, and when four-year-old got up to get a soda, I followed.
Four-year-old: NO! You stay here. I'll be back. *closes door*
Feeling a little like a prisoner, I follow him anyway. He sees me and says,
"I TOLD YOU TO STAY IN THERE!"
Eventually, I extract myself from him, and hide between my parents while they make fun of me for being defeated by a four-year-old.

I also ate lots of food and I'm pretty sure gained a few billion pounds. In a good way.

I forgot what else I wanted to talk about, so here is a picture of a cat.



Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "No better way to brighten my day than you."
Title; Brighten.
Artist; Colton and Zara.
^^^I canNOT get this song out of my head no matter how hard I try.

Rawr, Ashton Kutcher Is My Boytoy.

I was watching SNL last night, and I discovered something. The writers are seriously going downhill. Like, they've turned into one of those snowballs that cartoon characters push down hills and they just get bigger and bigger and bigger until they crush somebody. Only, instead of a snowball, it's a bunch of writers. And instead of a hill, it's a fucking MOUNTAIN.

I mean, they had ASHTON KUTCHER on there last night. Besides being the equivalent of a chocolate truffle in yumminess, he has so much comedic potential! They had so many opportunities! But all they did were stupid little skits that were, honestly, TERRIBLE. It makes me cry inside. Especially since I only just started watching it last year because of my tender age and "innocent" mind that my parents didn't want tainted. Fortunately, junior high and high school taint even the most innocent mind quickly enough that you can watch SNL and laugh. Or you COULD, ten years ago. NOT ANYMORE, BUDDY! The best I saw was a rerun of Will Ferrell classics, summer last year. He's no chocolate truffle, but he handles the stupid and ridiculous very well.
The best part of last night's episode was when Monsieur Kutcher ripped his pants off to reveal very tight leopard-printed underwear. They should ALWAYS have him rip his pants off. Rawrrr.
DAD, YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO SEE THAT! ;)

Tonight is the Superbowl! And, I am a little sorry to admit, I don't even know who's playing. I apologize, football fans. I almost regret not becoming interested in football. It seems to be everybody's backup topic. When all else fails and things become awkward, talk sports. They have rules and regulations, and you can easily discuss them, etc. I will be going to a par-tay at my mother's friend's house. I will eat delicious crap and watch commercials and play with the guests children and pick up babysitting jobs. Also, I enjoy the company of the babies. They don't judge you, and don't get mad at you unless you take their toys or anything. Sometimes they get mad when you don't understand them. They're pretty awesome, though. I think they may be geniuses in disguise who read minds.

Example:



Now there's a pretty awesome baby.

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "Stay a while and maybe then you'll see a different side of me."
Title: Unwell.
Artist; Matchbox Twenty.

I Live In A Freezer.

Seriously, how cold does it have to be kept in the basement? Negative four? That's what it feels like. I came down here to try out the new computer and fudge around with my pictures, and I have my comforter and my hood up and I probably need gloves because of my deteriorating finger dexterity. Now I'm gonna get frostbite and my fingers will fall off and I'll have to type blogs with my toes. You'll have to learn toe language, too, so start studying.

Guess what? I'M A NINJA. So is the rest of our swim team. We are ninjas because...we went to a meet yesterday. Oh, but not just any ordinary meet. C.O.C, a.k.a, a giant meet that we need to win (haha, I used two abbreviations in that sentence. Yay me. Also, I'd just like to point out the irony in how long the word "abbreviations" actually is compared with its definition). Not only did we win it...we made it back in time to be fashionably late (meaning, like, an hour) to winter homecoming and still look awesome. And that is the ninjaness of the girls' swim team.
Even though we all still had our events written on our arms and smelled like chlorine. But we don't talk about that.

I have a picture of my snowman for you!



He's wearing my favorite scarf ever. Now, he's kinda melting...but while the rest of my yard turns green, he remains. HE'S A SURVIVOR! A FUCKING SURVIVOR, PEOPLE! Like me, this morning, when my friend's dog jumped on my face while I was sleeping and scratched my forehead into submission. It didn't feel good. But her mom got doughnuts and it was all better.

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "You start to wonder why you're here, not there."
Title; Stop And Stare.
Artist; One Republic.

Why, Exactly, Does Opossum Have A Silent "O" In Front Of It?

Orthodontists are immortal. They are. When the world ends in 2012 (har har), the orthodontists will survive. Because they can use their evil tools of orthodontia to battle the zombie apocalypse. They can stretch their lips back and bombard them with X-rays and glue braces to their eyeballs while they sleep! THEY WILL CHARGE THE ZOMBIES THREE THOUSAND DOLLARS TO FIX THEIR TEETH SO THEY CAN EAT BRAINS PROPERLY!

Yesterday, I went to the orthodontist. Now, I don't usually go. My teeth are pretty much awesome. I'm just shockingly lucky. I only floss like, once; right before we go. So. I got there, and brushed my teeth in the sink with those toothbrushes that have built in toothpaste that tastes like plastic and the aftertaste you get after you eat candy or drink water from a plastic bottle.

Then, a very short, rotund woman came to me and my mother with a clipboard and told me to follow her. We did. Then I put all my crap in a chair and she hung a vest on me with a giant smiley face on it (ohhh, irony...), and made me bite something while this monster camera thing revolved around my head and took pictures of my teeth. They always tell you to hold still, and when you concentrate on holding still, you suddenly CAN'T. I felt like I was earth, and the moon was revolving around me while a massive earthquake was going on.

She then took pictures of my face, which I'm sure was lovely since I had come straight from school and I had High School Gunk on my face (which sounds SO dirty, but really it means I just have zits and oily skin). Then I sat in a chair and stared mournfully at my cherry slushie that my mother was holding for me.

Next...I had to take impressions. Now, if you have not had impressions, by my age, ALL your friends have gotten them at some point, and they tell you horror stories about them, like the putty stuff goes down your throat or it tastes bad, or whatever. Basically, I was kind of freaking out. I thought I was going to choke on it and die, or that it was going to pull out all my teeth at the same time and I'd go around being called Pirate Sam or something and never be able to say my S's right because I'd have no teeth.

She mixed together this lavender-colored paste (after stretching my lips apart with these little rod thingies and taking MORE pictures) and scooped it into a tray thingie and shoved it in my mouth and pressed it into my teeth and held it there for a minute. It tasted faintly of cinnamon and concrete. I tried not to drool, either, but it was kind of unavoidable.
She had to do my top teeth next, which was a little scary. She pressed it to my teeth, and it went a little far back into my mouth. Suddenly, I realized...I had to swallow (my GOD this could sound dirty). But I didn't want to swallow the concrete stuff...what if it was poisonous or something??? So I sat there, silently about to choke on my own spit and die. Finally, she popped it out and there was a cast of my teeth in purple. Hoo-rah.

And I got to drink my slushie.

Adventure of the night: My mother made me take the dog out. I was afraid the opossum I told you about last night would come back. I was positive that I'd go out there, and see it, and yell at it, and it would be like "THERE'S NO MORE CAT FOOD FOR ME TO STEAL" and I'd be like "GO AWAY" and it would be like "I WILL EAT YOUR LEGS INSTEAD" and since I was wearing my mom's slip on shoes I wouldn't be able to run away so it would follow me and eat my ankles. I put on a hoodie, and, armed with a Barbie umbrella, I walked outside in the dark and the absolutely FRIGID cold. I screamed as loudly as I could,
"I'M WATCHING YOU, OPOSSUM!"
When nothing answered, I took my dog into the yard, waving the umbrella and silently telling the opossum to go die. Doggie did her business, I nearly froze to death, but the opossum never showed.
That's right, opossum. You don't fuck with me and my Barbie umbrella.

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "Lose your blues."
Title: Footloose.
Artist; Kenny Loggins.
^^Okay, I tried to find good lyrics from A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton because that song is STUCK IN MY HEAD! But I didn't really like any of them so I chose a random song and this one is an oldie but a goodie.

And The Jello Turned Into Mr. Tumnus And Asked Me To Make Him A Sandwich.

Today I tried Monster for the first time ever.
It tastes like cough syrup and Alka seltzer mixed together. But some people like it, apparently? Are my taste buds just not cool enough for energy drinks?
Maybe they're just too refined. So hah.

We had pictures today at swimming. We got there and stripped down to our team suits, which are super tight for racing and basically like wearing a straw. I was the first one to take a picture, so I sat down on the diving block (those things they put at the end of a lane that you dive off of at the beginning of a race), stretched one leg out like the photographer said, and bent the other to rest on the block. That was when I realized...I HADN'T SHAVED MY LEGS IN WEEKS!
It's winter, okay? And I had a really bad razor burn on both my legs earlier this month! (grumble grumble) But, it was too late. So I kept my pose and grinned.
Twenty years from now, my children are going to look at that picture and ask me,
"Mommy, why is there a bear wrapped around your legs?"
I will tell them his name is Fred.

My father was taking the dog out just now, and he saw an opossum! We live out in the middle of almost nowhere (meaning we have neighbors, but also a tiny bit of acreage). He walked right past it, he said, and he walked back in and it was staring at him from the PORCH. Naturally, all of us ran to the door and stood, looking for it. And by all of us, I mean my mom. My brother, dad, and I all stood back. My sister pretended to be brave. It had run away, but now I'm terrified that a giant rat creature is going to come into my room at night somehow and eat me. Also, my brother is making opossum noises, but they sound more like a Nazgul (spelling?) from the Lord Of The Rings.

Also, I've been writing a blog on Facebook for the past year, and my titles typically have nothing to do with what I talk about in the blog itself.

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note: "May you never take one single breath for granted."
Title: I Hope You Dance.
Artist: Lee Ann Womack.
^^^P.S. I don't like country music. At all. I think it's The Black Plague for your ears. But I LOVE the lyrics to this song. And I won't be passing up good lyrics.

My Expression Is Not BLANK, It's...Calculating.

Today was a day of epic things.
Sort of.

The snow was melting, and it was at that stage where if you just poke it, it'll pack together. So I started making a snowman. I'd just planned it to be a little, rollrollroll, packpackpack, stackstackstack kinda deal. But it turned into this hour-long QUEST to build the most epically awesome snowman ever.
In the end, he was as tall as my shoulder, I needed my eleven-year-old brother's help to lift his body, he was wearing earmuffs and a piano scarf with hair made of clover and a baby carrot nose and rock eyes and a stick mouth. I was very proud of him. I've decided to name him Howard Munselfrumple the first.

Soon after that I had to go do more of my science project and swim, so I had to eat something. I had fifteen minutes. So this is what I did. I call it The Epic Sandwich.
You need:
One piece o'ham.
One piece o'American cheese.
One egg.
Two pieces o'bread. I used whole wheat.
Mayonnaise.
Cajun spice (you could also use salt, or nothing).
I think that's it!

Fry the egg. Leave the yolk runny. Or don't, whatever. I like it...runny. Why does that sound dirty? ANYWAY. Put the cajun/salt/nothing on it. Do NOT forget to spray the pan, or you will be putting egg shavings scraped from the pan on your sandwich. Put the cheese on the egg while it's in the pan if you want it melted. Toast the bread, put mayonnaise (I put a ton. Me likey me mayonnaise) on one slice. Or both. Put the ham on top, and the cheeseified egg. Put the other slice of bread on top. Now eat it. Voila!
And THAT is The Epic Sandwich. Once, my dad made the egg for me, and when I bit into the sandwich, the yolk exploded all over my hands. Now THAT is an egg.

Warning: Complaints imminent.
I am ANGRY with Apple. The Apple company that makes computers, iPods, etc? I sent my iPod Touch in to get fixed, because I was having horrid problems with the headphone jack. I was still under warranty, and I sent in the receipt, too, to prove it. As it turns out, it's nearly IMPOSSIBLE to get your iPod fixed for free, unless you just get a faulty iPod. They wouldn't fix it. Apple needs to invent something INVINCIBLE for those of us without the hand-eye coordination that is apparently necessary to own one of these things. I put it in my lap, it drops. I put it on the table so it won't drop, it drops. I hold it in my FIST so it doesn't drop, I DROP IT. They need to make something and call it the Clutz. I'd buy it. And it wouldn't die, because it would be invincible. That's my dream. That one day the world will make an electric device that can handle ME.

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of The Note: "Why the hell are you so sad?"
Title: Makes You Happy.
Artist; Sheryl Crow.

Don't Ask Me How The Penguins Got Involved.

Today, I had an adventure with Red Bull. Although it wasn't so much an adventure as an opportunity to complain and whine and bitch. AND WHO'S GONNA MISS AN OPPORTUNITY TO DO THAT?

So. I'd never had a Red Bull before, except for a taste of Red Bull Cola, which tastes like a liquefied doughnut in a bad way. Red Bull seems to have a talent for tasting like liquefied sweet things, because this regular Red Bull tasted like a Fruit Roll-Up, only put in a blender with carbonated water on "puree." I had to drink it for an experiment. To see if energy drinks turn you into zombies. I've heard they do.
No, really. I had to test the effects of energy drinks on physical performance (running) for la clase de ciencas. My "subject" and I both recorded how Red Bull affected us. Let me tell you this. It does not give you wings. Or if it does, it's for two seconds and then they pluck your feathers and shoot you. My head started to feel like it was stuffed with cotton and being smacked with a board. Then, my eyes started hurting and it took effort to move them. There wasn't any SOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR and then KER-ASH. There was just a giant KERRRR-ASHASHASHHHHH. Also, I'm sure there was a small Kaboom.

Swimming practice today, we swam with pantyhose and sneakers on.
Weirdest. Thing. Ever. It's like being a mermaid with a drag chute. Try it sometime.

Plus, it was pajama day. But I always feel like an outcast when I participate in these themes during "Spirit Week" because everybody thinks they're Entirely Too Awesome to join in the amazing chance to wear fuzzy pants. Or they forget.

Explanation Of Title: There isn't one. I just wanted to say "penguins."

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of Note (Of Note. Get it? I make PUNS!): "It takes a crane to build a crane."
Title: Life Is Wonderful.
Artist: Jason Mraz.
^^^P.S. I love him. I'm going to marry him. And our children will be beautiful and have voices that will make people fall at their feet begging "LET ME BE YOUR SERVANT!" Yes.

First, There Was Nothing...

And then, there was something, and then there was something else...it's all up in the air, really.

So, here's the deal. Basically, I whine, I do new things, call them "adventures," take pictures, and write about everything in between.

For this first post, I've decided to keep it short and sweet, and leave you with something light.
THE WAY TO A HAPPY LIFE.
Yes. Very light.
Here it is:
1. Always, always, ALWAYS have cookies on hand.
2. Life is better barefoot. It just is, it always has been, and always will be.
3. Sometimes, random dancing is the only solution.
4. Live the Coconut Fred way: "I can make that fun!"
5. Be utterly ridiculous.
6. Twilight is not the Bible.
7. New shoes will always make you feel better. So will dressing up like a ninja and humming the Mission Impossible theme in Wal-Mart.

There are many more. But if I give you all the keys to a happy life, you might take all the happy.

Love
Love
Love
Samm

Song Quote Of The Note: "Open your eyes."
Title: Bohemian Rhapsody.
Artist: Queen.