Just be patient! i am currently locked in a battle of wits with Mrs.B's picture scanner-thingy. hoLD ON!!!!
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Downloads 'n' stuff!!
Like the 'n'? I HATE those things! I find them on teh backs of cereal boxes all the time! Anyway, these past few days I have been struggling to re-download all the stuff back onto my computer after Rafi blew up the previous one. Yeah. Blew up. Can you believe that guy? No really, he didn't blow it up. SORRY RAFI, I DIDN'T MEAN IT!
Anyway, I used to have a kickawesome compy over here, on this white desk in that little corner of the basement and it had all kinds of cool stuff. A word processer, animation builder, slow graphics, no memory, and other cool things. But best of all was the games. That old thing could run games from 1985! and I had about a gazillion of them:
Laura Bow 1
Laura Bow 2
King's Quest 4
Sailor Moon: The Moon Princess
Klik 'n' play
hungry hedgehogs! (helped pt with her math skills!)
So one day I come home and see Rafi disassembling the compy. He tells me he is upgrading. Well, here I am, clackety-claking on the new comps, and it's not half bad, I can't complain. The only downside is that now all my old games are GONE!! So I have to find them again, and make them compatable to the system. Wish me luck!!
Plus, I got tons of sweet music.....(shifts eyes nervously)...want some?
Anyway, I used to have a kickawesome compy over here, on this white desk in that little corner of the basement and it had all kinds of cool stuff. A word processer, animation builder, slow graphics, no memory, and other cool things. But best of all was the games. That old thing could run games from 1985! and I had about a gazillion of them:
Laura Bow 1
Laura Bow 2
King's Quest 4
Sailor Moon: The Moon Princess
Klik 'n' play
hungry hedgehogs! (helped pt with her math skills!)
So one day I come home and see Rafi disassembling the compy. He tells me he is upgrading. Well, here I am, clackety-claking on the new comps, and it's not half bad, I can't complain. The only downside is that now all my old games are GONE!! So I have to find them again, and make them compatable to the system. Wish me luck!!
Plus, I got tons of sweet music.....(shifts eyes nervously)...want some?
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Thinking about writing stuff
Guess who feels like writing a short anecdote for absolutely no reason at all? No, it was me. I like writing, and I'm always looking for ways to improve, but I have a teensy problem. I don't like it when people criticize my writing. It discourages me. So right around now, 7:59 pm Saturday night, I am sitting at the white desk in the basement, bundled up in a fluffy quilt because the basement (cellar?) is very very cold, my long, bony fingers tapping the rusty (do keyboards rust?), definitely inoperable keys of the compy, as the pt attempts to play The Sims2, and talk to herself. Sometimes she talks to me, but that's only when she either wants to complain about something, or show me her unique taste in furniture and interior design (prison camp). Currently, she is creating her family, starting with the family name. The Snore family. As of three minutes ago, it consists of a single adult female proudly christened 'Rhino'. But enough about the pt, there is something I forgot to mention. I'm in my pajamas. Now I would really like to be in my shabbos robe, but due to the forces of nature, who continue to mock me, my robe has fallen into a toilet. So yeah. I bet you're all wondering how that happened, so I will tell you in my crisp anecdote writing properties:
Flash back italic font!!!!
I laughed tiredly as I thrust my ice-cold key into the lock of our front door. After an exhausting day with my friends, I was about ready to 'retire for the evening,' and finish reading my hilarious Dave Barry book, while enjoying the comfort of my blue and white velvet Shabbos robe, which despite having several holes in it, still holds an admirable position of "good as new!". The comforting heat of the house welcomed me as the door slowly creaked open, and I escaped the evening chill. I quickly unzipped my jacked and tossed it on the couch, stretching my stiff arms, tired from being jammed in my pockets the whole walk home. I was rather exhausted and hot, so I decided 'now' was a good time to execute my plan. I slipped out of my 'somewhat two sizes too big' hand-me-down shoes and jogged up the stairs to my room. Since I had not used the bathroom since lunch that day, and it was 6:05 pm, I figured it would be a good time to use it while I changed. So I take my robe down from its hanger, and take my 'medical-required (yes I'm stretching the truth)-back-brace-enduring-super-stretchy-shirt to put under it and began my three foot march to the upstairs bathroom. But in the five seconds it would have taken me to get to it, my father somehow beat me to it and locked the door.
"Rats," I muttered, "I guess I'll have to go downstairs then..."
(yes I talk to myself, but that's okay!) So I go back downstairs and head to the bathroom. Getting inside, I lock the door. Now let me cover the schematics of this here bathroom. It's about two feet wide. It's got a toilet and a sink, both crammed into each other. Clearly there was no room to change in here, but that's never stopped me before. So I put my robe in the sink (which was dry, thankfully) and did my business. Like an ordinary person, (excluding the pt) I washed my hands and flushed. However, as I was washing my hands, with soap I might add, mother nature lashed out at me and caused my robe to tip over sideways towards the toilet, just it began the clean water began to bubble up at the top and it emits a kind of 'sigh' only another toilet could understand.
"No!!" I moan in slow motion as the head of my robe thrusts itself into the water, instantly soaking itself. With my dripping wet hands, I grasp the end of the robe, but alas, it is too late.
"NOOOOOOOO!!!!" I scream as I hold the robe in my arms like a dying child. "WHY?!!!" My plans for this evening have been permanently canceled, going on vacation somewhere with my dignity. Because ironically, this same situation happened to the pt a few weeks ago where somehow her skirt fell in the toilet, although I don't know the details there. Wearing my brace shirt, I gather up the dirty clothes and beautiful, but now toilet-stained robe, and sadly toss them down the chute.
"At least the water was clean..." I grumble. At this point I stomp downstairs to go get some pants, as shabbos would be over in about forty-five minutes, I thought wearing pants for the rest of it would be considered OK. Then I flop down on the spare bed in the basement and begin to mourn the loss of such a beautiful robe, which I went through tons of trouble to sort out and clean after Rosh Hashana.
Well, that's that. I wish to inform all you readers out there that the robe is making a steady recovery, and should be back by yom kipur.
Flash back italic font!!!!
I laughed tiredly as I thrust my ice-cold key into the lock of our front door. After an exhausting day with my friends, I was about ready to 'retire for the evening,' and finish reading my hilarious Dave Barry book, while enjoying the comfort of my blue and white velvet Shabbos robe, which despite having several holes in it, still holds an admirable position of "good as new!". The comforting heat of the house welcomed me as the door slowly creaked open, and I escaped the evening chill. I quickly unzipped my jacked and tossed it on the couch, stretching my stiff arms, tired from being jammed in my pockets the whole walk home. I was rather exhausted and hot, so I decided 'now' was a good time to execute my plan. I slipped out of my 'somewhat two sizes too big' hand-me-down shoes and jogged up the stairs to my room. Since I had not used the bathroom since lunch that day, and it was 6:05 pm, I figured it would be a good time to use it while I changed. So I take my robe down from its hanger, and take my 'medical-required (yes I'm stretching the truth)-back-brace-enduring-super-stretchy-shirt to put under it and began my three foot march to the upstairs bathroom. But in the five seconds it would have taken me to get to it, my father somehow beat me to it and locked the door.
"Rats," I muttered, "I guess I'll have to go downstairs then..."
(yes I talk to myself, but that's okay!) So I go back downstairs and head to the bathroom. Getting inside, I lock the door. Now let me cover the schematics of this here bathroom. It's about two feet wide. It's got a toilet and a sink, both crammed into each other. Clearly there was no room to change in here, but that's never stopped me before. So I put my robe in the sink (which was dry, thankfully) and did my business. Like an ordinary person, (excluding the pt) I washed my hands and flushed. However, as I was washing my hands, with soap I might add, mother nature lashed out at me and caused my robe to tip over sideways towards the toilet, just it began the clean water began to bubble up at the top and it emits a kind of 'sigh' only another toilet could understand.
"No!!" I moan in slow motion as the head of my robe thrusts itself into the water, instantly soaking itself. With my dripping wet hands, I grasp the end of the robe, but alas, it is too late.
"NOOOOOOOO!!!!" I scream as I hold the robe in my arms like a dying child. "WHY?!!!" My plans for this evening have been permanently canceled, going on vacation somewhere with my dignity. Because ironically, this same situation happened to the pt a few weeks ago where somehow her skirt fell in the toilet, although I don't know the details there. Wearing my brace shirt, I gather up the dirty clothes and beautiful, but now toilet-stained robe, and sadly toss them down the chute.
"At least the water was clean..." I grumble. At this point I stomp downstairs to go get some pants, as shabbos would be over in about forty-five minutes, I thought wearing pants for the rest of it would be considered OK. Then I flop down on the spare bed in the basement and begin to mourn the loss of such a beautiful robe, which I went through tons of trouble to sort out and clean after Rosh Hashana.
Well, that's that. I wish to inform all you readers out there that the robe is making a steady recovery, and should be back by yom kipur.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
An ode to autumn
A poem I wrote during LA.
The leaves blow past,
A rainbow of colors,
the crisp wind blows sharp and fast,
the grass snuggles under,
a blanket of leaves,
as the tree grows bear at last.
Squirrels can be seen,
scurrying about,
collecting food for the winter,
one climbs up a hollow tree,
a stack of nuts peeks out from behind her.
the honking of geese,
can be heard from above,
chatting endlessly as they fly,
almost as if they too are remembering,
memories of a summer gone by.
Some children play while others work,
raking the endless leaves,
mothers bundle them up warmly,
in coats, sweaters, and flease.
Autumn is a beautiful season,
filled with gold, silver and bronze,
I only hope its beauty stays frozen,
in my mind, forever and always....
The leaves blow past,
A rainbow of colors,
the crisp wind blows sharp and fast,
the grass snuggles under,
a blanket of leaves,
as the tree grows bear at last.
Squirrels can be seen,
scurrying about,
collecting food for the winter,
one climbs up a hollow tree,
a stack of nuts peeks out from behind her.
the honking of geese,
can be heard from above,
chatting endlessly as they fly,
almost as if they too are remembering,
memories of a summer gone by.
Some children play while others work,
raking the endless leaves,
mothers bundle them up warmly,
in coats, sweaters, and flease.
Autumn is a beautiful season,
filled with gold, silver and bronze,
I only hope its beauty stays frozen,
in my mind, forever and always....
Thursday, September 25, 2008
I'm back!!!!!
I'm back! And improved in many ways! How do you like the make-over? I decided the stuff from last year was slightly boring. Wow, am I GLAD to be out of 6th grade! That place stunk, majorly. 7th grade is WAY more awesome. My favorite privilege, of the many I have been granted, is two break periods instead of recess!! Really now, I didn't need recess. Break is awesome! It's just us, 8th grade, and the 3rd floor, no midget 5th graders moving around. You can do anything! Mostly, I go to 8th grade and play piano, or screw up their computers. That's fun! Other times I head over to the ol' bean bag and take a hearty nap. Yeah, someone brought in a plush purple bean bag, and I LOVE that thing. I sleep on it sometimes. The other thing I like is being heralded by queen by the younger grades. Why is it everyone looks up to 7th graders? Well, somehow I seem to have accumulated my own fanclub, because everywhere I go I have 5th, 4th, and sometimes even 3RD graders on my tail. They're always trying to get a peek in my sketch diary, where I keep my AMAZING TOO COOL pictures that I draw during class. Someday I'll get them up here, you just wait. So anyway, I usually have to shoo them off with a broom or something, because if I don't, they keep telling me:
"Wow!"
"They're SOOO GOOD!!"
"How'd you learn to draw like that? Did you take lessons?"
I just don't have the heart to tell them all off, though. Whatever. More cool things about 7g. I get to write a lot more! I love writing, especially short stories and such.
On a slightly different note, Fudge came home today. Yay! Don't tell her I said that though....Nah, she doesn't check this blog anyway. Phew! I wonder what she thinks about me....When I cleaned the house a while ago, she seemed pretty happy. Whatever, it's not like she's gonna be here that long, right? I bet I'm feeling happy she's home because I've spent at least 4 break periods trying to piece together her yearbook. The pages are just kind of fluttering around 8th grade, trying to get me to catch them and stuff them in a bag. Which I might do. Someday. All the people in that thing are like, MARRIED! Some of them are even working in the actual school!
I plan to pour my feelings into this blog, and exercise my 1st person writing skills. If I even have any. I have REALLY good 3rd person skills, I know that! But writing a blog in 3rd person would be kind of awkward.
Bye bye!
"Wow!"
"They're SOOO GOOD!!"
"How'd you learn to draw like that? Did you take lessons?"
I just don't have the heart to tell them all off, though. Whatever. More cool things about 7g. I get to write a lot more! I love writing, especially short stories and such.
On a slightly different note, Fudge came home today. Yay! Don't tell her I said that though....Nah, she doesn't check this blog anyway. Phew! I wonder what she thinks about me....When I cleaned the house a while ago, she seemed pretty happy. Whatever, it's not like she's gonna be here that long, right? I bet I'm feeling happy she's home because I've spent at least 4 break periods trying to piece together her yearbook. The pages are just kind of fluttering around 8th grade, trying to get me to catch them and stuff them in a bag. Which I might do. Someday. All the people in that thing are like, MARRIED! Some of them are even working in the actual school!
I plan to pour my feelings into this blog, and exercise my 1st person writing skills. If I even have any. I have REALLY good 3rd person skills, I know that! But writing a blog in 3rd person would be kind of awkward.
Bye bye!
Thursday, July 3, 2008
The lil navigator
As I may have already said, I'm going to university school now, and it's VERY hard to get to. Okay, not THAT hard, but pretty hard because it's really far away and there are a lot of different key turns and ramps that we keep missing. Everyday, either fudge, rafiki, or 30.cal will drive the PT and me to school. (yes that is correct grammer). However, today was different. I know how to get there because I've memorized already the turns and everything, but my brother wasn't quite sure. For some reason, he forgot which turn to take and we drove for 15 minutes in the opposite direction we were supposed to be going.
"er...Are you sure we're supposed to be going this way? I'm pretty sure we should've been going north on sherman..."
said I.
"Really?" said my brother.
"Oh boy! Look at that gas meter!"
Yes indeed we were nearly out of gas. So we stopped at a gas station, my bro got out and I think he tried to hook up the gas pipe to the car when a loud beeping noise emitted from the machine. He re-entered the car a moment later and said:
"This gas station doesn't work, let's try another one."
So we keep looking and we find another one eventually. We spent a total of three seconds in there when we figured out the pumps all said
"NO CARD, CASH ONLY"
So we kept looking, the gas meter dwindling all the way. At this point, I was very concerned. It was 9:00, we were at least three miles in the wrong direction, and out of gas. Of course none of this bothered the PT.
"Are we there yet?" she asked repeatdly, "When are we gonna get there? Helllllllloooooooo!!!!????"
Eventually we found a working gas station. However, we were there for at least twenty minutes because the attendant wouldn't let my brother pay for the gas with my father's card because, quote 'you not him!'. All this time, I was trying to entertain the PT by singing "banana phone."
me: ring ring ring ring ring ring ring, banana phone!
pt: er....
me: ping pong ping pong ping pong ping, ponana phone!
pt: um...
me: I've got this feeeeling, it's so a-pealing,
pt: er..this is boring
me: for all of us to get together and sing, SING!
pt: singing is boring, iguana
me: ring ring ring ring ring ring ring, banana phone!
pt: STOP! I don't even know the words to this song!
me: oh.
pt: look, iguana, why don't we just sit around and do nothing, okay?
me: but that's BORING!
pt: well, that's what I wanna do, so we're gonna do it, OKAY?!
me: all right....
Sooner or later, bro showed up and I directed him to the right track and we got to camp an hour later. Happy ending!
"er...Are you sure we're supposed to be going this way? I'm pretty sure we should've been going north on sherman..."
said I.
"Really?" said my brother.
"Oh boy! Look at that gas meter!"
Yes indeed we were nearly out of gas. So we stopped at a gas station, my bro got out and I think he tried to hook up the gas pipe to the car when a loud beeping noise emitted from the machine. He re-entered the car a moment later and said:
"This gas station doesn't work, let's try another one."
So we keep looking and we find another one eventually. We spent a total of three seconds in there when we figured out the pumps all said
"NO CARD, CASH ONLY"
So we kept looking, the gas meter dwindling all the way. At this point, I was very concerned. It was 9:00, we were at least three miles in the wrong direction, and out of gas. Of course none of this bothered the PT.
"Are we there yet?" she asked repeatdly, "When are we gonna get there? Helllllllloooooooo!!!!????"
Eventually we found a working gas station. However, we were there for at least twenty minutes because the attendant wouldn't let my brother pay for the gas with my father's card because, quote 'you not him!'. All this time, I was trying to entertain the PT by singing "banana phone."
me: ring ring ring ring ring ring ring, banana phone!
pt: er....
me: ping pong ping pong ping pong ping, ponana phone!
pt: um...
me: I've got this feeeeling, it's so a-pealing,
pt: er..this is boring
me: for all of us to get together and sing, SING!
pt: singing is boring, iguana
me: ring ring ring ring ring ring ring, banana phone!
pt: STOP! I don't even know the words to this song!
me: oh.
pt: look, iguana, why don't we just sit around and do nothing, okay?
me: but that's BORING!
pt: well, that's what I wanna do, so we're gonna do it, OKAY?!
me: all right....
Sooner or later, bro showed up and I directed him to the right track and we got to camp an hour later. Happy ending!
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