10 random things (meme)

10 random things about myself- that you might know

1) I think the most pleasnt sound is falling rain and the most pleasnt silence is falling snow.

2) I suck at runescape

3) I love imaginary numbers; 4i is my favorite. (and by love, i mean very bizarre and very very strong attatchement)

4) Never broken a bone- I drink my milk!

5) I love to wear the color red.

6) The colors yellow green and orange are perfect together(usually)

7) My nailpolish is currenly an interesting shade of turqouise. I was told it was such a nice color that it detracted from the derivitives on the board. I was also told that same day, that my moving hands resembled beetles, those gigantic blue-green ones from the summer.

8) On the subject of colors, I hate the phrase Roy-g-biv

9) On the subject of the rainbow, I am very sad we are moving past that chapter in physics

10) On the subject of physics, I am about to shoot myself. (not really)

I tag all who read this.

T.V. show

AS a child I was only allowed to watch PBS. As a teenybopper I rebelled and watched every piece of worthless programing. As a teenageer I enjoy to watch PBS. There are so many wonderful characters and shows from that station, that the challenge of picking one seemed impossible. I think though, there really is no contest, nothing can beat MAGIC SCHOOL BUS. Every thing about that show is absolutly amazing. The chacters were my friends growing up. I am convinced this show completely molded my life. It can unviel the joys of science to someone who can't even say "photosynthesis" yet. Even the theme song rocks! yes- most definatly time to take a ride on the magic school bus.

Just a thought

Frederick Douglass is a most beautiful man.

short and sweet... hopefully

It's all coming off. Any thoughts? Suggestions? Above is what i'm leaning towards. Open to all suggestions-except blonde

Let *them eat cake

All she said was "I want cake" with a little tilt of her head. Thus began our very interesting adventure in our coaches kitchen. don't ask. Just accept that me and a friend, we will call her Bat(again-don't ask) are at the home of our coach by ourselves at seven Sunday morning. With that we ransacked the kitchen in hopes of finding a cake mix. Her kitchn had everything you could imagine. At least ten types of pasta, fifteen types of hot chocolate, five types of frozen cookes, but no cake mix. In my desperation I accidentily offered the conjecture that "maybe she makes it from scratch". haha. bad idea. So ten minutes later, after we take the dog out, with cold noses and a recipie for chocolate cake we gather the ingredients. I kid you not, she had an entie drawer ful of hot cocolate mix, but no cocoa. While she takes the dog out again, it's been quite a long time since we started, i find a recipie for vanilla cake. Too bad even vanilla cake needs eggs. At this point we are not giving up, oh no. OH NO, not us. So Bat heads off to the local deli, which is not very far; PV is notorious for its "deli on every corner". The trip still took long enough for my bladder to get impatient. Let's just let it be said that puppies cannot be left alone for ANY length of time. So Bat returns victorious with a dozen eggs and tales of adventure. Specificaly how her car started fishtailing. The actually construction of this cake was a frienzed affair. One of us was usually playing chew toy for the teething puppy (We used enough soap to clean a kidnergarden class) while the other was searching for a piece of kitchenware one would never think you need to make a cake. -reminder: this house belongs to niether of us- I'd like to announce that for the first time ever I succesfully seperated eggs, this is a great achievment for me. At this point the cake is succesfully in the oven, the kitchen is clean, the dogis tired out. At this point Bat decides that the cake cannot go unfrosted. One of the recipies we printed out had instructions to make frosting by boiling sugar butter and milk. I know the dangers of boiling sugar of any kind, and I now powdered sugar is traditionaly used for frosting. Nevertheless I allow us to make it any way. When it is finished, I am perfectly ok with using it. Bat however, does not think syrup is a decent thing to cover a cake with. This time we kennel the dog and we both go to the deli. No fishtailing this time, the roads are much cleaner, we return with the confectionary sugar without incident. As we walk up the drive way our coach and her new husband return. I personally, had not wanted to be there on their return. Bat, who does not accept the words alkwardness, embarassment, intrusion, or shame, insists we finish the cake. Did I mention she was my ride home? So we remain at the house long enough to make the frosting, which of course is green, and taste the cake.
The cake was superb, moist but crispy on the outside, best thing i've ever made (it was the eggs, i'm positive). The frosting was a little to sweet, but hey: at least it was viscous and pretty.
Best cake i've ever had.

*them being two teenage girls with an empty house and a full** kitchen
**full should not implty adequate***
***i've always wanted a footnote on the footnotes

Failure- what doesn't kill you only makes you stonger

It was fifth grade. It was a spelling test. I failed miserably.
As our teacher posted our grades on the wall, everyone who had a class in the room just had to tell me my grade. It happened to be a 42 in case anyone was wondering. It was almost entirely on words like beautiful or plentiful and I had a double L at the end of everyword. Got all the hard bonus words right, but didn't pass the test. This had been, up until I confronted the letters A and P, my worst and only test failure. I am proud to announce that since the advent of second quarter I have failed three tests, in three seperate classes. Now of course that had just a tad of flase bravado, but I honestly am glad to have failed. It is sort of freeing. No more pressure to preform well, no more record or reputaion to up hold. Just learning anfd knowedge pure and simple. Well, never simple, not physics. Not to mention I acctually started hardcore studying for the first time in my life(slight exageration). I only wish this pivitol point in my education had come before junior year...

(btw hell is not spelled h-e-double hockey sticks, but a-p-double physics)

From thread to blog

In my enchantingly enlightening and engaging english class, my teacher (who has already taught me the abnormal and addicting joy of alliteration) established a forum for my class. This disscusion is about "Young Goodman Brown", by Nathaniel Hawthorne, and "Where are You Going? Where Have You Been?" by Joyce Carol Oates. The latter is a short story of a girl who gets herself into the troubles a pretty girl with out much sense can quite easily find. (yes, we happen to be learning about red ridding hood as well). The lack of resolution and action from the silly girl incensed many of my staunchly feminist friends. This caused them to et into a frenzy and lose sight of what else can be seen in Oate's story.
I have a feeling no one in my class will actualy read what I wrote and I feel as if I acctually started thinking for the first time yet this year, so I have posted it here.

"I do not feel like this is a matter of equality rights, or even gender dynamics. It very interesting that that Cap gave us two parallel stories one about a young man and the other about a young woman. I fondly remember an old idol of mine that kept the cutest bookshop you could ever hope to frequent. I once asked her if she had any American girl books, she replied "I do not carry books like that, for only girls, but I do have a similar collection." She then proceeded to show me the dear American books that would accompany my life for the next few years. Through her words and that series (and thinking about it right now too, not gonna lie) I learned that literature is best when not used to entertain like cheap television appealing to males or females. The best and most memorable works one will read are such because they are based on the deeper themes of life applicable to both genders. Either subtly or overtly using these themes the author makes an argument, enforces an ideal or establishes a point of view, that is foreign to the reader, thus making it novel(ironic, eh?) and memorable."

I've joined the bloging ones

Tomorrow is my birthday. 17 years old. That means there have been 365 days I have been unwanted. I feel as if there's some unspoken standard (probably created by me) that a single mormon girl of 17 is a failure.
Other than that silly sentiment, I am announcing the formation of my blog. Taa Daa!
It was actually by accident, but once i stared looking around I became very interested. As school has me grinding at the mill I have nothing to speak of at the moment or a brain to synthesize it, unless people would be interessted in hearing about early american literature or government. (Absolutly no physics! unless its a movement to stop the killing of monkeys)