50 subscribers!

I finally reached 50 youtube subscribers! :D

I'm really, really excited. When I began making videos in December I never imaged I could actually get this many subscribers! Thanks to everyone who has subscribed to me, I love all of you. My next goal is to get to 100, but who knows how long that could take?

My Channel

Let Me Spin You a Yarn

This is a story about rude people. About rude boys. About one rude boy.

Our story starts on a quiet morning during passing period between periods 3 and 4. Hannah, the bold seventh grade protagonist, has just finished gym class, and has to run to her locker across the school and back upstairs to her math class. Most unluckily, math is in the last room in the hall, all the way at the end. This means that Hannah has to make haste like nobody's business if she wants to get to math class on time. Which she didn't actually want, of course, but pesky school rules required she had to be on time.

Every other day she had to deal with the treacherous journey from the gym to her locker to the math room, and no matter how many times she did it, it never got any better. One particularly bad day Hannah got out of the gym locker room a bit later than usual. Her red hair was a frizzy mess around her head, and pit stains decorated her clothing as she dashed through the eighth grade hallway. The eighth graders loved to stand by their lockers and not move for extended periods of time, making it very difficult for a seventh grader to traverse. When Hannah's locker was finally in sight (she most unfortunately had a locker in the eighth grade hallway though she was only a seventh grader), disaster struck.

An eighth grader, whose face Hannah could not see, swung his hand down to his side and Hannah, in her hurry, accidentally ran into his hand. Crotch first. Hannah was absolutely mortified. She tried to brush it off, knowing it was an accident, but the boy decided to be rather rude about it, and shouted,

"WATCH OUT CHERRY PIE!"

Hannah wanted to cry. Thankfully Hannah was stronger willed than that. With as much dignity as possible, she ran to her locker and up to the math room. This story is now but a distant memory for our protagonist, but the embarrassment she remembers well. 

Living My Life on 8tracks

For those of you who aren't aware, there is a music sharing website called 8tracks that I absolutely adore. I found it a year ago back when I would use StumbleUpon to find new websites. Basically what people do on 8tracks is make unique play-lists with music from their iTunes library. While I must admit that you have to sort through quite a bit of crap, there are some very  good mixes on that website. I've made a few myself, and while I wouldn't say they were particularly bad by any means, it is very hard to become "8tracks famous". There are hoards of people who frequent that site, so my pipe dream of getting a mix that becomes popular is a long way off.

The funny thing is, I forgot about this website after winter break of 2011, and I just started using my account again this summer. I think part of the reason is because I associate 8tracks with a time in my life (the beginning of freshman year), that was very stressful for me, and I knew that this website helped me calm down. I would literally just listen to 8track mixes and surf blog spot all day at school first semester of last school year.  I think I may just have to resort to that again. I've actually found quite a few new blogs these past few weeks, and I've followed them, so hopefully blogging joy will abound.

I just made a mix on 8tracks today because I was bored, so feel free to check it out! I made the mix as a sort of "Final Hurrah" for my freshman year. In other words, I just took all my favorite songs from when I was a freshman and plopped them into one mix. Link is here!

Side note: My profile picture on 8tracks is the Swag Snowman. More than likely that is the best piece of artwork I have ever come up with.

Game Over, Man. Game. Over.

I have some bad news, guys.

I am going to have to quit blogging...

I know, I know, this is all quite sudden. Please bear with me while I explain why this is.

I didn't want it to come to this, but I knew that it would have to happen some day. That day just came closer than I thought. I was hanging out with Lizzie again a bit ago, and I asked for a snack. In her kitchen there were some not-quite ripe bananas (just how I like them). I grabbed one off the top of the microwave, ready to partake in the deliciousness. I grabbed the top of the banana, and started pulling (I was going to say "yanking", but I thought that might have sounded too much like a euphemism). I tried to peel the banana for about thirty seconds, but the peel just would. not. budge. Then, quite unexpectedly, there was a loud SNAP! I looked down and I was holding the banana in two chunks in both of my hands. I had literally ripped the banana in half. I couldn't believe my eyes. Spluttering, I held the banana up to show Lizzie. Both of us were speechless. It was so unprecedented that I made Lizzie take pictures. I HAVE EVIDENCE!

Here I am. Looking devious. Looking Sly. Looking... STRONG.

Look at that. Just look at it for a minute, and let it simmer in your mind. Imagine as I tore it in two, imagine my shocked face, then lead it back to this image of me holding the banana, where it all comes full circle. So I send out my dearest apologies to all of you... but really, I have new and greener pastures to graze with my newfound strength. Really the only possible option I see for me now is to become... you guessed it, a carny. I will travel the world with my other circus companions, and I can live off the money I make pulling apart various fruits. The fruit won't know what hit 'em. Pomiculture will really be taking a blow with this one. 

It's been swell, everyone, but I must make my leave now. I've loved every minute on this blog... but wish me luck as I start my new life. 

<3

Edit: Did I mention that I tore yet another banana in two while I was at Lizzie's a couple weeks ago? Things are really starting to get out of hand. 

Haiku Sunday (for the first time in forever)

This morning I was looking through my sock drawer trying to find my favorite socks, and I found a worksheet from Foods class. The only thing I have written on it is my name.

 I don't know how to feel about this.

Anyway, until I finish all of my posts I'm working on, enjoy this masterpiece:

Pan asian cuisine;

Beer: a dollar sixty eight.

Dang, that place be sketch

I swear I'll add some context to that later. Just wait...

Here We Go Again

I feel like I haven't legitimately posted in quite some time. Tonight I thought I would express via pie chart (YESSSS) why I haven't been stirring up more posts for you all. The internet is the problem here. It's too addicting, and I'm caught under its spell.

Sorry for the sloppy screenshot. I don't really feel like redoing it.

Anywho, this is the reason I haven't been blogging. At all. It's also the reason why I don't have my closing argument prepared for a debate I have to take part in, in Economics tomorrow. I plan on winging it. I'm sure I'll have some delightfully cringe-worthy story to share with you all about it soon enough. 

EDIT: My team and I actually ended up winning the debate. While the experience was cringe-worthy in more than one aspect, I never really got around to posting about it. I'm sure if I tried to now, it'd be really irrelevant. 

Happy Sunday

Tales from a Blogger's Childhood

Growing up in the middle of the Midwest offered me many opportunities as a child. Without any sizable theme parks or other attractions to speak of nearby, my companions and I had to come up with... unique ways to occupy our time.

Really, though, before I get too far ahead of myself, I should mention that most of the adventuring started around the time I was in first grade and a new neighbor named Alex moved in. Three years my senior and one year older than my brother, we idolized her. Not too long afterward a boy my age named Sam moved in down the street. We all befriended one another and became a sort of motley crew in my neighborhood. Alex, the oldest, became our self-appointed ring leader. Sam was loud, arrogant and obnoxious and liked to think himself a rebel. My brother was the most lax out of all of us, leaving me to be the capricious whirling dervish.

We all had our own psychotic tendencies colorful personalities, and despite our differences we managed to spend the dog days of summer and the long winters together without killing one another. Which, in retrospect, I find quite fascinating. I spent about five years of my life with these friends. Two of those years found me being a lovable ragamuffin. I spent the other three years being a vindictive, meddlesome, slightly more entertaining ne'er do well. What caused this change, I'm not sure. I just remember the last three years of my friendship with those kids ended up with many acts of vandalism, trespassing, and straight up truancy, which I don't think I'll go too far into the details of those right now.

I have many fond memories from those years, where I am certain that I could be defined by modern definition, as a punk. Most worthy of note, in my opinion, is the summer night where we found an old bike in Alex's garage. Upon further inspection we discovered it lacked brakes. I can't remember who exactly dared me to ride that bike down a hill, but I remember I took the challenge unflinchingly. By the end of the night I had cuts and bruises all over my arms and legs, after ramming into a fence.

Another story that I love to tell friends is about the human sized elmo doll Alex bought at a garage sale. He was the outlet for many spontaneous beatings, and we ended up breaking both of his softball sized plastic eyes. I'm not sure what was so satisfying about beating up an elmo plush, but it was somehow entertaining. We also loved to use the elmo doll as a prop for our movies we'd make, in which he acted as a stunt double (most notably when we tied him to a wagon and let him free fall down a hill). Though, and this is really my favorite, is the day where we sacrificed elmo by creating a noose with my jump rope and hanging him from the pine tree in my back yard. My father immediately put a stop to our sacrifice to the gods, and we were severely reprimanded (namely, we couldn't play with jump ropes anymore).

I realize that these tales might make me sound like a lunatic, but hey, don't we all have stories about sacrificing plush toys as kids? ...No? Well, you certainly didn't have much of a childhood then, did you? Just kidding, I know everyone has their own stories, but this is mine, and I don't think I'd change any of it.

Day One/Two

Yesterday I started the 21 Days Challenge, and guess how many times I complained?

20.

I think it's a good thing I'm doing this challenge. I was actually able to get through most of the day without complaining too much, until around 3 pm. My Economics teacher threw a major curveball at me. I won't go into much detail because I don't want to complain any more about it, but it's pretty bad. So as I walked out of school yesterday, I threw down about 10 major complaints in a row to my friend Josalyn.

As for today, I have already complained six times, and it's not even 8 am! Things are not looking up... :/

Starting Tomorrow!!

I have decided I am going to start the 21 Day Challenge on Monday! I made a bracelet last night, isn't is magical?

It says WWND because of a dream I had a couple weeks ago where I kept asking myself, "What Would Nerimon Do?".  I decided it was sort of fitting to make this bracelet for this challenge, you know?

What my plan for the challenge is to keep track of how many times a day I have to switch wrists, or in other words, how many times I complain. Wish me luck! :D

Backpacks

Being a busy student on the go, over the years I have found that backpacks have been pretty helpful. That is, until they began to slowly injure me. I suppose it seems like common sense that carrying almost half your weight on your back is going to hurt you in the end, but it never occurred to me until I was having intense pain in my lower back. With a quick visit with the doc and some X-rays, the conclusion was made that I have been hurting my back by carrying around so much extra weight! The doctor has restricted me from having any weight on my back. If I so much as even look at a backpack, I will be in some hot water.

Because of this injury, I had to come up with some creative solutions to how I was going to lug around my stuff. I began by eliminating the unnecessary items, such as notebooks, and began taking notes on my computer. Then I had to figure out what to do with the stuff I couldn't just leave at home. I stuck all of it in an accordion folder and called it a day.

I've been thinking over the past few days about how much better I feel for not carrying my back pack. It's been almost two weeks now and my back pain has decreased dramatically. Another interesting aspect I've noticed is that I have gotten some more confidence as I have gone around without a bookbag holding me down. Before I felt like I could hide behind the backpack, even though it wasn't on my front side. It sort of helped me just blend into the woodwork, be another fish swimming through the sea. But now, without it, I feel like I can walk with my shoulders back and my head held higher. It's a weird sense of empowerment that I believe can only come from not wearing a backpack. This has proven to be one of the best decisions I have made in quite some time.

I have expressed my conclusion in this colorful, easy to follow diagram:

Backpack=pain; No backpack=AWWW YEAH

Mystery Diagnosis: Blogger Anxiety *updated*

I am sure that most anyone is familiar with the television program Mystery Diagnosis. Basically what they do on the show is tell the stories of people who had bizarre medical problems and after much emotional turmoil and many years of false diagnoses, the doctors finally figured out what was wrong.

Lately I have been feeling like something was off, but I couldn't quite place my finger on it. Whenever I thought about my blog, I'd just stuff the idea back into a drawer in my mind, saying "Oh, can't think about that right now!" and carry on with my daily business as usual. Then I got to thinking about it, and I made my diagnosis. I have blogger anxiety. 

Blogger Anxiety is a rare medical condition when a blogger gets six followers. At first she is elated that six people like her enough to follow her blog, but then thoughts start to pop into head, making her question if what she's writing is still any good.

"What if my followers won't like it if I post that?"

"What if they think that's not funny enough to post about?"

"What if everyone thinks I'm stupid and hates me and will unfollow my blog?"

These are just a few of the questions that a blogger with blogger anxiety will ask themselves. Eventually these questions and more will start to eat away at them, making them anxious and not want to post or even think about their blog. 

There is only one known cure for blogger anxiety: ice cream. Lots of it.

Well, not worrying about other people's opinions helps too, but I like ice cream, so that's staying as the cure. C'mon, listen to me, I am a doctor you know. 

(source)

Doctor, Doctor, give me the news.

I've got a bad case of the lovin' yousssss

**UPDATE**

Ah, so I was thinking about this post this morning and I thought about how there are so many blogs where there are hundreds of followers. And I thought to myself, "Geez, I'm a wimp". Oh well, I hope someday that I can have a million gazillion followers too, but for now, six followers is pretty great. 

Haiku... Friday?!

Yep, that's right, I'm bringing the haikus back! Well, maybe not for good, but I will post one today. Also, I bruised my knuckle last night and it hurts, so I don't want to type a real post ;]

Winter is swallowed

by the rays of the sun and

our need for progress. 

Such angst. Anyway, happy friday everyone! 

Third post for the New Year! It feels good.

Anyway, today I was sitting in my math class, in the front row, and I noticed something odd. There were multiple sheets of white, square paper covering about 20 feet across the front on the room underneath the white board. They were held there with masking tape. When my teacher (lovingly referred  to as 'Bri-Bri') gave us a break in the lesson to work on homework, I decided to investigate.

Using my best super-sneaky ninja skillz (that's right, with a 'z') I slinked up to the front of the room... AND LOOKED BEHIND THE PAPER!!!

I was shocked. There were windows there! They looked down onto the rest of the school, into the belly of the spider (see a map of my school, here. Basically the room I was in was in the uppermost left leg of the spider). It was pretty wild stuff, my friends. I now wonder why the paper was there. Was it all part of my teacher's scheming plans to take over the world using Geometry? Does he use it as some sort of alibi? Is the paper there to keep us from being distracted? Only time will tell now...

Edit 7/31/12: I'm actually laughing pretty hard right now because I forgot I made this post and just WHAT WAS I THINKING THIS ISN'T ENTERTAINING. 

How I Spend My Free Time

Immediately when I woke up this morning, one thought coursed through my head:

It's Halloween, isn't it? :( Why does it have to be Halloween?


Now, before I get ahead of myself, I'd just like to say that when I was a small child, I loved Halloween. My personal angst towards the holiday didn't start until a few years ago, but that's a whole different story than the one I'm planning on telling.

Since I wasn't looking forward to passing out candy tonight, I holed up in my living room, comfy blanket close by, surfing the internets on my laptop. I soon grew bored, though, and decided to clean up some of the folders on my desktop. When I clicked on the first folder, this is what I saw:

I was certainly confused, as would anyone who had just found a screenshot describing the unhealthy relationship between a sock monkey and his banana. Then it all came flooding back to me. 

This past weekend I had spent some time at my good friend Lizzie's house. We had been messing around on my laptop when I announced that I needed to use the restroom. I left the room, leaving my laptop with Lizzie, which proved to be an unwise move, because when I came back, I found that up on my screen. It seems she had typed it up on a word document just for me, since she knew how much I love sock monkeys. 

I remember being slightly weirded out by this writing, but eventually found it funny, and took a screen shot of it, moving it to a folder only to be found by me, tonight. 

Another image I found tonight was this one:

I'm fairly sure I created this lovely work of art awhile back on drawastickman.com. That's the only explanation I can think of as to why I have a screen shot of an indifferent sunflower watching one cloud brutally attack another. In my opinion the most disturbing aspect of this image is that I have many other screen shots similar to this one.

Now, if your retinas haven't been completely burned yet from looking at these pictures, here is a final one I want to share: 

I'm pretty sure I took a screenshot of this late one night when I was scrolling through the loads of pixalated hoobla on unrelatedcaptions.com. I am currently having trouble remembering why I found this so funny in the first place. I'm leaning towards the fact that I had an immense obsession with 'The Fairly Odd Parents' as a kid, and seeing Timmy's dad made me laugh.

Then again, I'm still not quite sure... 

I'm signing off for tonight, and I'll try my hardest to post again tomorrow. Who knows, maybe I'll come across more screenshots for your viewing pleasure.

Goodnight!