I still alive!
yup, I survived Ta'anis Esther. Chalk up one more for iguana's great feats of wonder.
So, guess who's running a booth at the annual purim carnival?
Tahts right! My best friend simmy and I are in charge of the FLUFF AND CHIPS BOOOTH!!! SCORE! And you know what our job is? For a full two hours, simmy and I get to stuff spoonfuls of marshmallow fluff into little kids' mouths! Oh the joy and happiness!
Frielichen Purim peoples!
Monday, March 9, 2009
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
My walk home with the pt
Why me?
*We begin walk home from school, taking the Roosevelt route instead of keefe. Not long after we disembark, the pt is having the time of her life splashing through muddy puddles.
ME: pt, don't splash through muddy puddles.
PT: why?
ME: because you'll get your boots all muddy
PT: they were muddy ever since recess!
ME: yeah, well don't splash in any more puddles, okay?
PT: no
soon she ran out of puddles and had to 'degrade' to side walk status anyway. So anyway, we continue walking and get around the corner onto 53rd street when the pt stops me yet again.
PT: iguana, can we stop?
ME: no, why?
PT: because I have to tie my shoe
ME:.....
ME: pt, you're wearing boots.
PT: oh yeah. I have to tie my boots.
ME: why can't you just wait till we get home?
PT: because the laces are getting all muddy.
ME: now, if we hadn't splashed in the muddy puddles, our laces wouldn't be muddy, would they?
PT: yes they would
ME: how so?
PT: well, I could've just been walking all the time in the field looking at my feet, and then I would've stepped in a puddle and it would get muddy on the ice anyway!
ME: ....?
PT: (walks away)
So this continues about halfway through till we get to Roosevelt and are ready to cross when the pt points our some vital observations.
PT: see that pile of dirt, on top of that pile of snow?
ME: yeah?
PT: it looks like a dinosaur.
ME: I dunno..it looks more like a frog to me.
PT: maybe it's a dinofrog?
ME: let's just get going.
And so our journey comes to a close. At least, until we get inside the house and the pt refuses to pull off her boots using her hands. And since she has a bladder with the capacity of a teaspoon, she is rapidly thrashing on the floor of the front hall, screaming and trying to fling her boots off, and of course, refuses to let me help.
That's it for tonight folks. Really. That's it. Get lost.
*We begin walk home from school, taking the Roosevelt route instead of keefe. Not long after we disembark, the pt is having the time of her life splashing through muddy puddles.
ME: pt, don't splash through muddy puddles.
PT: why?
ME: because you'll get your boots all muddy
PT: they were muddy ever since recess!
ME: yeah, well don't splash in any more puddles, okay?
PT: no
soon she ran out of puddles and had to 'degrade' to side walk status anyway. So anyway, we continue walking and get around the corner onto 53rd street when the pt stops me yet again.
PT: iguana, can we stop?
ME: no, why?
PT: because I have to tie my shoe
ME:.....
ME: pt, you're wearing boots.
PT: oh yeah. I have to tie my boots.
ME: why can't you just wait till we get home?
PT: because the laces are getting all muddy.
ME: now, if we hadn't splashed in the muddy puddles, our laces wouldn't be muddy, would they?
PT: yes they would
ME: how so?
PT: well, I could've just been walking all the time in the field looking at my feet, and then I would've stepped in a puddle and it would get muddy on the ice anyway!
ME: ....?
PT: (walks away)
So this continues about halfway through till we get to Roosevelt and are ready to cross when the pt points our some vital observations.
PT: see that pile of dirt, on top of that pile of snow?
ME: yeah?
PT: it looks like a dinosaur.
ME: I dunno..it looks more like a frog to me.
PT: maybe it's a dinofrog?
ME: let's just get going.
And so our journey comes to a close. At least, until we get inside the house and the pt refuses to pull off her boots using her hands. And since she has a bladder with the capacity of a teaspoon, she is rapidly thrashing on the floor of the front hall, screaming and trying to fling her boots off, and of course, refuses to let me help.
That's it for tonight folks. Really. That's it. Get lost.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Sunday, February 22, 2009
My brother took my cheez-its
Outofammo, if you ever find your way to my blog, which you never read anymore, I hate you.
I am waiting for you in a dark alley with a steel baseball bat, and trenchcoat. You are going down.
HOW DARE YOU TAKE MY FAVORITE SNACK WITHOUT PERMISSION!!!!!
DO YOU REALIZE THAT'S THE ONLY GOOD SNACK WE HAVE?!!?!?!?!?!?!
I had to plead with mom for like a MILLION YEARS for her to FINALLY buy those crackers, and then YOU came along and TOOK them before I'd even HAD ANY!!!!!!!
I HATE YOUR GUTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1
-ps, don't ever show your face around here again.
I am waiting for you in a dark alley with a steel baseball bat, and trenchcoat. You are going down.
HOW DARE YOU TAKE MY FAVORITE SNACK WITHOUT PERMISSION!!!!!
DO YOU REALIZE THAT'S THE ONLY GOOD SNACK WE HAVE?!!?!?!?!?!?!
I had to plead with mom for like a MILLION YEARS for her to FINALLY buy those crackers, and then YOU came along and TOOK them before I'd even HAD ANY!!!!!!!
I HATE YOUR GUTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1
-ps, don't ever show your face around here again.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Recess is overrated
Ghess waht?
Yes I'm on my compy again. This thing is WAY too hard to write on, mainly because for some reason, my desk is the coldest place on earth. I would really like to somehow move this desk out of the frozen basement wasteland and into my snug little room that needs to be cleaned, BUT it's quite not possible because it has a computer attached to it.
It would be cool if I could move the computer into my room too, but then I wouldn't be able to play Laura Bow, because there's no way on EARTH I'm gonna play that alone in my room late at night. But down here with Psychotoddler and the PT is okay.
I'm gonna get my own laptop next year!!! Ho yeah! It turns out Ima genius, and that I will be qualified to take highschool courses next year, and to do that I'm joining an internet acadamy. Cool, huh? So I'm gonna get my own laptop, and be able to read whatever I want, whenever I want. One of the main courses (not like 'food' main course) I was really psyched about taking was 'psychology'. I find the study of human nature VERY interesting, and sometimes it even helps me solve promblums with my friends! It's cool.
Now, about recess. Why I hate recess. Oh, I'll TELL YOU WHY I HATE RECESS!!!
minor promblums
-it's boring
-the gym smells (and yes, we ALWAYS go to the gym)
-there's no where to sit down, so you're always uncomfortable
-a waste of time. I mean, a fifteen minute break where you can just wonder around the 3rd floor would be more enjoyable. We have a piano, computers, DESKS FULL OF STUFF! and yet people want to go down to the gym instead.
Major promblums
-the idiots who always want to go down to the gym want to go down so they can play elimination. This is like the worst game I have EVER heard of. The whole point is to HIT PEOPLE WITH A BALL, and to a lesser degree, HIT PEOPLE WHO AREN'T PLAYING WITH THE BALL. So you can see why I hate it.
-fact: if you want into the gym, you will get hurt.
-2 out of 4 days in a school week, a little fifth grade idiot (who of course, plays elimination) will get socked in the head and need to go to the office.
-the people who DO actually play elimination, do nothing but complain about how long they've been out. When that's not good enough, they accuse random players of cheating, and then everything just goes kabBLAM.
my point: WHY THE HECK DO WE PLAY THIS GAME?!?!?!?!?
it's annoying to itself and everyone around it!
this is why I think recess would be a lot more fun if we were actually allowed to stay on the 3rd floor instead of going to a stinky old gym so little snot nosed fifth graders can bean us with basket balls. (you assumed they used rubber balls. That is a mistake. They use BASKET balls so it hurts more when you get hit.)
By the way, I'm not going to recess tomorrow and nothing anyone can say will make me.
Yes I'm on my compy again. This thing is WAY too hard to write on, mainly because for some reason, my desk is the coldest place on earth. I would really like to somehow move this desk out of the frozen basement wasteland and into my snug little room that needs to be cleaned, BUT it's quite not possible because it has a computer attached to it.
It would be cool if I could move the computer into my room too, but then I wouldn't be able to play Laura Bow, because there's no way on EARTH I'm gonna play that alone in my room late at night. But down here with Psychotoddler and the PT is okay.
I'm gonna get my own laptop next year!!! Ho yeah! It turns out Ima genius, and that I will be qualified to take highschool courses next year, and to do that I'm joining an internet acadamy. Cool, huh? So I'm gonna get my own laptop, and be able to read whatever I want, whenever I want. One of the main courses (not like 'food' main course) I was really psyched about taking was 'psychology'. I find the study of human nature VERY interesting, and sometimes it even helps me solve promblums with my friends! It's cool.
Now, about recess. Why I hate recess. Oh, I'll TELL YOU WHY I HATE RECESS!!!
minor promblums
-it's boring
-the gym smells (and yes, we ALWAYS go to the gym)
-there's no where to sit down, so you're always uncomfortable
-a waste of time. I mean, a fifteen minute break where you can just wonder around the 3rd floor would be more enjoyable. We have a piano, computers, DESKS FULL OF STUFF! and yet people want to go down to the gym instead.
Major promblums
-the idiots who always want to go down to the gym want to go down so they can play elimination. This is like the worst game I have EVER heard of. The whole point is to HIT PEOPLE WITH A BALL, and to a lesser degree, HIT PEOPLE WHO AREN'T PLAYING WITH THE BALL. So you can see why I hate it.
-fact: if you want into the gym, you will get hurt.
-2 out of 4 days in a school week, a little fifth grade idiot (who of course, plays elimination) will get socked in the head and need to go to the office.
-the people who DO actually play elimination, do nothing but complain about how long they've been out. When that's not good enough, they accuse random players of cheating, and then everything just goes kabBLAM.
my point: WHY THE HECK DO WE PLAY THIS GAME?!?!?!?!?
it's annoying to itself and everyone around it!
this is why I think recess would be a lot more fun if we were actually allowed to stay on the 3rd floor instead of going to a stinky old gym so little snot nosed fifth graders can bean us with basket balls. (you assumed they used rubber balls. That is a mistake. They use BASKET balls so it hurts more when you get hit.)
By the way, I'm not going to recess tomorrow and nothing anyone can say will make me.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Things that are happening
first of all, how about this warm weather! It's like, sixty degrees out there! And you know what the funny thing is? IT'S ONLY FEBUARY! Oh yeah. Life is pretty awesome.
Now, on to buisseness.
I GOTS ME A PIANO TEACHER!
yes I do. Piano is the in thing these days. Ever since the 8th graders got that grand piano moved in there (like 5 years ago), people have been playing it like crazy. Even people who can't play piano. And they sound horrible. Anyways, I love to play, and I took lessons a while ago, so I know how. It used to be I could just print the sheets off the internet, then stand them up against my run down little brown piano and start playing. But alas, the sheets have gotten much harder, and I'm not exactly an expert at expert piano playing. So I mentioned this to my mom, and one day she shows up with the big news:
"I found you a piano teacher. She is russian. You will need to try really hard to understand her, but it's totally worth it."
This got me thinking:
piano teacher+ russian+ really bad accent + playing for 30 years = uh oh.
Now, I know what you're all going to say. dam l'kaschoos! But even so, I had a lot of time to think about it. So my mom said to prepare something to play for her, so she knows what I can do. I picked a song that I was comfortable with, starsong of course, and began to practice.
A few days later, the day of the meeting the piano teacher arrived. I nervously climbed into the backseat of my dad's car and tried to listen to my dad's country music, which he happened to be playing on maximum volume. Note: never try this again. Those songs got stuck in my head the whole Chumash test the next day.
Anyway, when we got there, we climbed to the top of a stairway, with was littered with high school kids who looked like they might be sleeping, and entered one of the apartments. There our ears were assaulted by a fast and violent piano melody. I sheepishly entered the next room (big and empty except for one piano in the center of it, in use). And there was my teacher, still russian. After exchanging some words with my parents, she invited me to take a seat on the piano seat with her. She then said:
"Now play for me something, so I can see what you can do."
And so I did. Of course I started off on the wrong note. But after that I went through the whole song without a single mistake. And then the lessons began. They weren't so bad, except she kept pronouncing third as 'firvd', so I kept getting first and third finger confused. But other than that, she was okay.
and now I don't feel like writing anymore. I think I'll go apply more ointment to my knuckles for a while.
Now, on to buisseness.
I GOTS ME A PIANO TEACHER!
yes I do. Piano is the in thing these days. Ever since the 8th graders got that grand piano moved in there (like 5 years ago), people have been playing it like crazy. Even people who can't play piano. And they sound horrible. Anyways, I love to play, and I took lessons a while ago, so I know how. It used to be I could just print the sheets off the internet, then stand them up against my run down little brown piano and start playing. But alas, the sheets have gotten much harder, and I'm not exactly an expert at expert piano playing. So I mentioned this to my mom, and one day she shows up with the big news:
"I found you a piano teacher. She is russian. You will need to try really hard to understand her, but it's totally worth it."
This got me thinking:
piano teacher+ russian+ really bad accent + playing for 30 years = uh oh.
Now, I know what you're all going to say. dam l'kaschoos! But even so, I had a lot of time to think about it. So my mom said to prepare something to play for her, so she knows what I can do. I picked a song that I was comfortable with, starsong of course, and began to practice.
A few days later, the day of the meeting the piano teacher arrived. I nervously climbed into the backseat of my dad's car and tried to listen to my dad's country music, which he happened to be playing on maximum volume. Note: never try this again. Those songs got stuck in my head the whole Chumash test the next day.
Anyway, when we got there, we climbed to the top of a stairway, with was littered with high school kids who looked like they might be sleeping, and entered one of the apartments. There our ears were assaulted by a fast and violent piano melody. I sheepishly entered the next room (big and empty except for one piano in the center of it, in use). And there was my teacher, still russian. After exchanging some words with my parents, she invited me to take a seat on the piano seat with her. She then said:
"Now play for me something, so I can see what you can do."
And so I did. Of course I started off on the wrong note. But after that I went through the whole song without a single mistake. And then the lessons began. They weren't so bad, except she kept pronouncing third as 'firvd', so I kept getting first and third finger confused. But other than that, she was okay.
and now I don't feel like writing anymore. I think I'll go apply more ointment to my knuckles for a while.
Monday, January 26, 2009
My hands are cracking up
*BLOG POST SOLELY ABOUT CHAPPED HANDS AND THE FACT THAT IT'S ALREADY JANUARY WITHOUT A POST. PLEASE LEAVE IF THIS IS NOT YOUR THING.*
Wow, it's been a while since my last post. Mainly because when I blog, I use my own compy on the white desk in the good ol' basement, and it takes a while for the letters to show up. And my fingers usually freeze on the keyboard, and then I have to snap them.
But you know what makes frozen fingers even WORSE? cracked up, bleeding, chapped knuckles. Yes that's right, the winter chill has found a way through my ultra-extra-super-duper-padded gloves and into my skin. Upon reaching my skin it took out a shovel and started trenches or something, because it REALLY HURTS whenever I flex my knuckles, or fingers (they are attached to my knuckles).
So I tried to put on lotion. Unfourtunatly, when I tried to take my hand lotion with me to New York last week, the bottle squirted all over my suitcase, and Mrs. B made me throw it out. So now I'm livin off a much-more-empty-than-you-think bottle of "love spell" flavored cream, and I think it's days are quite numbered. Like, single digits.
And one more thing:
IT HURTS. A LOT. I WISH MY HANDS DID NOT HURT THAT MUCH WHEN I USE THEM. WHICH IS A LOT.
(I made a post!)
Wow, it's been a while since my last post. Mainly because when I blog, I use my own compy on the white desk in the good ol' basement, and it takes a while for the letters to show up. And my fingers usually freeze on the keyboard, and then I have to snap them.
But you know what makes frozen fingers even WORSE? cracked up, bleeding, chapped knuckles. Yes that's right, the winter chill has found a way through my ultra-extra-super-duper-padded gloves and into my skin. Upon reaching my skin it took out a shovel and started trenches or something, because it REALLY HURTS whenever I flex my knuckles, or fingers (they are attached to my knuckles).
So I tried to put on lotion. Unfourtunatly, when I tried to take my hand lotion with me to New York last week, the bottle squirted all over my suitcase, and Mrs. B made me throw it out. So now I'm livin off a much-more-empty-than-you-think bottle of "love spell" flavored cream, and I think it's days are quite numbered. Like, single digits.
And one more thing:
IT HURTS. A LOT. I WISH MY HANDS DID NOT HURT THAT MUCH WHEN I USE THEM. WHICH IS A LOT.
(I made a post!)
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