A Morning in the Finch Household

You may or may not be familiar with my dear Finch family. Whatever your case, I highly recommend brushing up on your knowledge of them before reading on: http://jblog08.blogspot.com/2009/03/finch-family.html


I shall begin this next segment with the second-to-last paragraph of the first segment. So, don't be confused.

The Finch family lived in a modest home right in the very middle of Fanghorn Avenue. The downstairs consisted of a parlor, kitchen, dining room, powder room, and a small cupboard for the placement of articles of warmth from the cold in the winter, which was located in the passage. Upstairs (the steps leading to and from which were located next-door to the aforementioned cupboard), were four bedrooms. One for Mr. and Mrs. Finch, one for Greta and Evelyn, one for Edward and Victor, and one for guests when guests came, but otherwise for collection overflow on behalf of Mr. Finch, Mrs. Finch, Greta, and Evelyn (all of whom would have rather kept all of each collection in his or her room, but ran out). Edward and Victor, wanting to share in the equal subdivision of the spare room, collected odds and ends precisely for the purpose of storing when no guests were around. Edward heartlessly collected many ounces of dust lying around the house (causing Mrs. Finch to keep her sanity in check in the most mundane respects of furniture dusting), and Victor had the clever idea of cutting out encyclopedia articles which he thought he might read in the future when he got around to it, (of course, Mr. Finch was not of the knowledge of this defacement) and putting them in spare jars which Evelyn discarded when any particular culture grew too big for it. This resulted in Victor not wanting to actually read the articles because to pull them back out again would render the entire time reading a time spent smelling nothing short of the most awful stench in the world, which was impossible to wash out of the jars. There was also a bathroom up stairs which everyone shared, though everyone complained considerably of everyone else taking much too long in the bathroom doing various and sundry preparations and primpings which were necessary to the party concerned with doing preparations and primpings, but were absolutely ridiculous to all who were affected by not being able to use the bathroom at the time they wished to.

It was on one such a morning that Greta was taking an especially lengthy time in the bathroom, because she felt she must brush her hair out as long as possible in order for it to be as long and silky as possible. The day before, her friend at school had let her borrow a very expensive hairbrush, telling her that the only way for her hair to be perfect was to brush it consistently for at least an hour. The three other siblings were outside the door as well. Edward was wrestling with Evelyn, asking her why and for what absurd reason she should think that girls need to be first.

“Why, they take longer to get ready, of course! Boys can do it in five minutes flat,” she reasoned, stamping her foot in front of her to hold her place in line. She pulled the rest of herself up in front of Edward.

Edward glared. “But that is the whole point! Why can’t we just get ready first, since we take such a short amount of time, and then you girls can take your sweet time afterwards, minus the banging and nagging.”

“Because,” Evelyn stuck her nose in the air, “when you go first, you DON’T take five minutes...you take hours!!”

Victor piped up, “Why, Evelyn, we are only showing you what it feels like to wait. If you didn’t take so long, this demonstration would certainly not be necessary.”

Evelyn was shoved back by Edward, and then shoved back farther still by Victor, so that she was at the back of the line. She scoffed. “You boys are just wasting time in there??”

Victor shrugged. “I usually read; quite often one of my Guinness Book of World Records or something of the sort.”

Edward added, “One time I opened the window, climbed down the side of the house, went for a relaxing swim, played in the mud, and then I climbed back up and took a real, well-deserved, lengthy bath because this time I was really messy. I should do that more often...”

Evelyn’s jaw dropped. “You...!” she squeaked presently. “I’m telling mum on you!”

“I had to clean the floor, of course, too,” Edward continued. “That was a bit of a downer; anti-climactic and whatnot. But other than that, it was quite fun. And when I came out, you and Greta had fallen asleep in front of the door with your towels as pillows!”

Evelyn’s eyes widened at the memory, and she quickly dropped to the floor, crawling between her brothers’ legs to get to the front of the line. Victor cried, “No!!” and crawled likewise to the front. Edward, appalled at being pushed to the back so quickly, tried to repeat the action. Though he ended up toppling his brother and sister over, rather than making a clean sweep of things, he resumed his spot as first in line.

“I don’t want to be after you if you are going swimming again!” Victor pouted.

“Well, I don’t want to be after YOU if you are going to read a giant book full of nonsense!” Edward shot back. “I mean, you do it anyway, but it is an unacceptable bathroom behavior.”

“My hair takes longer to dry than either of yours!” Evelyn continued to protest from the back of the line. “I simply must go first, or I shan’t survive the day.”

Edward rolled his eyes. “What has hair-drying go to do with anything?”

“A lot.”

“What, then?”

Evelyn wasn’t sure, but it was certainly a lot.

Edward and Victor were laughing so hard at Evelyn’s failure to come up with a good argument that they did not hear or see Mrs. Finch ascending the staircase. She only wore her hats in company or out in public, and without them she actually resembled a normal human being. She glided over to stand, looking down upon her children (except for Edward, who was a little taller than she was).

Mrs. Finch did not demand to know what the trouble was. Instead, she said: “Your distant cousin Robby Arbuckle is coming to see us, and stay in the spare room.”

Upon hearing this, the three children froze, and even Greta (who always listened in with great ears for doing so, but never acted like she heard anything) poked her half-brushed head out of the restroom. “What??” The four demanded in unison.

Against Solitude

You may be wondering..."if there is a part one to 'On Optimism', surely there must be a part two, but then again, Jessica is apt to defy logic on a regular basis."  First of all, HUMPH!!  Second of all, yes, there will be a part two.  I just actually have to sit down and write it, which I haven't done.  This next entry is a small writing assignment I completed over breakfast last Tuesday morning.

Before now I have greatly commended solitude as something which I enjoy enjoying.  But there is a downside.  There is probably a downside to everything, but most of those downsides I would rather not think about.  I will acknowledge that it is good to be honest and realistic on some downsides, especially if in doing so I am kept or keep someone else from harm, one way or another.  

So it is with solitude.  I can tell myself, "Oh, yes, I can live alone in the middle of nowhere.  I would enjoy it; I don't need people."  But, for one thing, I would have no idea whether I was being true to myself by saying that.  I have never tried living completely alone.  It might be nice for a while, but surely I would get lonely.  A second point is that even if I don't need people...what if people need me?  Not to think of myself in such a great light or anything.  The thing is that nobody may actually be aware that they need me, but they still do, somehow.  If it isn't my direct help, then it may be at least some subtle influence or another.  My goal is to lead as many people to Christ as possible while on this earth.  That is really what life is all about; everything else is about having fun and/or surviving, and then surviving only to have fun, or to hang on to life for some odd reason.  Some do, however, strive for their own lives so they may continue to keep their children alive and protect their wives and things like that.  

But what is the point of living if, when you die, you go to heaven?  Why do even Christians value their earthly lives?  Why do we do things like eat healthily and organically and avoid other things that don't severely hinder our life's course if we are going to die anyways, and when we die we have eternal life in Christ?  Without the answer, it all seemed so pointless.  I guess if you don't believe in God or heaven, and you believe that your only life here is on this earth, and when you die you go nowhere, then it makes sense.  To hold on to your life here as much as possible.

But what about Christians?  And the only answer that has satisfied me is this: life is all about using where God has placed you, using the tools and gifts he has blessed you with to lead everyone possible to him.  To spread the Gospel; to give everyone the hope of eternal life, and the chance to live in their own heaven-on-earth.  

Now I get it!  That is why I have always been hearing things like "Do EVERYTHING to the glory of God!"  It's not some cheesy Christian saying that Christians say.  It is absoltely true.  

Thus, here is my argument: what good is solitute if it goes agains the meaning of life?  Even if it's solitude with only one's family, what is the point of living in isolation?  If it is to hide from economic crisis and an extremely overbearing and nigh evil government...why?  To grow one's own food that is without the poisons that the FDA requires to be in all they approve?  Good enough reasons, except...for what?  Why?  What is the point of trying so hard to survive, if you have no opportunity to preach the Good News?  It is selfish, really.  Why did I want it?  I wanted it for me, and no one else. 

Sure, I could justify it by saying, "Well, while I live out in the middle of nowhere all by myself, I will write books, and those can lead people to Christ."  And that may very well be.  And there is nothing wrong with a little solitude.  Personally I would love to have a little country cottage on rolling hills with giant oak trees sprinkled here and there.  But I would want it nearby to a community.  I may be introverted, but I need people just as much as anybody else.  God created us as social beings.  He knew Adam could not just live on earth by himself.  Adam needed Eve not just to be "fruitful" with, but also (and more importantly) as a companion on earth.

Therefore I am against solitude with all my heart.  Being alone occasionally and in small doses is fine, but isolation?  No.  We were not created for isolation.       

WARNING: This post shall contain absolutely no philosophy.

My, my, my.....

"Your what?"

*ahem* *starts over again* My, my, my, I think too much and blog too little.  All my thoughts go straight to my head, and hardly any go on paper, or screen, or whatever.  I was just thinking today how I love blogging, but blogging these days is going rather slow.  Some people have completely converted to Facebook.  I just simply re-post my blog posts on Facebook so that everyone is all happy (I have no idea if anyone actually reads them, but I can imagine that somebody along the way is happy).  I think the thing is that Facebook statuses are like really short blog entries, where I can say one thing and it starts an entire controversy.  It is really quite fascinating....5 seconds as opposed to 30 minutes to an hour of writing to create the same sort of response.  

Anyways, I will move on to other things, as each entry these days seems to start off with a long and annoying disclaimer about how I have not written in a long time.  At this moment, I am sitting in the kitchen, waiting for the chickens to reach 180 degrees inside and listening to the classical station on the radio.  I was listening to Relient K as I have been in a Relient K mood all day for some odd reason.  For the record, the album was "Five Score and Seven Years Ago", which I never really liked when it first came out because all the songs sounded the same and like all their other songs on their other CDs, thus driving me clinically insane and causing me not to endear myself to it at all, with the exception of "Must Have Done Something Right", or whatever it is.  But after wanting to listen to that song in the first place, and having done so, deciding to listen to the entire album all the way through while stuffing things up chickens, and I don't mind it as much as I did.  I can appreciate it lyrically.  Yes, so I was listening to that, and then it ended, and I was too lazy to walk the 30 feet to my bedroom and get a new CD, so I turned on the classical station. 

Have you ever noticed how chickens and Dickens rhyme?  It's pretty cool.

Yesterday I went to a square dance and....guess what.....?  I met some bloggy people and had TONS of fun!  I love dancing SO much....I can't even explain the passion that burns uncontrollably through my being, to be poetic-ish about it.  

I am getting a little tired of the people on the classical station asking for money.  OKAY!  It's back to music.  You know, it's funny how I walked back to my room to get my computer but didn't get any music.  

So I met Johnathan, AKA "Jos" in the blog world, and danced with him; I met Neil AKA Enil in the blog world and danced with him; and I met Abigail aka Abigail in the blog world, but did not dance with her, since she is a girl and all.  :)  Abigail is just as sweet as she is online, Johnathan has a REAL British accent!! and Neil is ever so Mr. Charming.  After the square dance, Lizzie, Allison, Sarah, and I went back to Lizzie and Sarah's house, made food, frolicked in the meadow, (well, just the front yard), and then ate the food and watched "Pride and Prejudice."  The new one.  I like that one best, but the entire time all my comrades could talk about was how Colin Firth is so much better and better looking.  Frankly I don't think that Colin Firth is any bit good-looking at all.  The new Mr. Darcy is better and better looking.  As usual, mine is an opinion that only the minority holds.  

Ah!  The chickens have completed their long journey in the oven.  

Keeping in the theme of the title of this post........um......I cannot philosophize about anything.  I am so incredibly boring that I cannot come up with anything else to write about.  Okay, that is NOT TRUE.  I hope.  Actually, my mind is preoccupied with visions of chickens dancing in my head, so I think I must leave you now to tend to them (they are sitting and steaming or something now...I'm just following the directions like the Doughnut Man said to do).   So long all mine faithful readers!

~Jessica 

The Finch Family

Once upon a time there was a family whose name was Finch.

Mrs. Finch was exceedingly fond of large hats, particularly the kinds with extravagant plumes in them. The bigger the hat and the bigger the plume was all the better for her. She was always on the lookout for hats, plumes, and hats with plumes which surpassed the ones she already owned in size. Her biggest fear was that someone in the world owned a hat and plume bigger than her biggest one, and that she would be put to terrible shame by this person, whoever it might be.

Mr. Finch appreciated bow ties, but only white ones with black polka dots, or black ones with white polka dots. You may think that there is not much variety in only liking bowties of those natures, which would make Mr. Finch rather boring in his like of bowties; but in fact there are many, many different types of black bowties with white polka dots and white bow ties with black polka dots.

Greta Finch was the eldest girl and the eldest child in the immediate Finch family. She had straight dark brown hair down to her thighs and light green eyes which always seemed to be focused elsewhere from the present. She appreciated two things: books, and reading them. If she was not reading, she was arranging her immense book collection or else deeply considering matters of books rather than paying attention to any sort of reality, except how reality pertained to books. That said, she was not the dreamy sort at all: to the contrary she was much more mournful of her situation in life and how it was not much like princess so-and-so who lived in such-and-such large castle and was married by prince whoever to carry on a life of bliss.

Edward Finch was very tall and was not much more than skin and bones. He possessed an affinity for being up and on top of things, and was frequently worrying whatever females were about by climbing all climbable anythings. He was a quiet lad who mostly kept to himself, though ate everything in sight and when he was not he was always wishing there was something in sight to be eaten.

Evelyn Finch had long, blonde, wavy hair and big dark brown eyes. She was always dressed all in black or very dark grey with a simple bow or two in her hair. She was an asker of accusing questions as well as a desirer of all she set her deep eyes on. Evelyn collected many, many different things. In fact, she had a collection of what must have been everything except for hats, plumes, bowties, and books. Her favorite collection was her sixteen jars of bacteria cultures, which she kept and fed as if they were her own pets.

Victor Finch wore very big, round glasses and liked to believe he was the number one most reliable source of all that there was to know in the world. If someone instructed him, he would rebuke the instructor and tell him otherwise, though what he assumed to be the truth was often a quite absurdly drawn conclusion. However, if he was able to find that the encyclopedia said otherwise (which he only consulted once a conversation had been had where he was not sure of something which he had just stated as fact, particularly if the person he stated it to disagreed), then he would slowly but surely wrap his head around the new idea and adopt it as his own and soon declare that he never thought otherwise.

The Finch family lived in a modest home right in the very middle of Fanghorn Avenue. The downstairs consisted of a parlor, kitchen, dining room, powder room, and a small cupboard for the placement of articles of warmth from the cold in the winter, which was located in the passage. Upstairs (the steps leading to and from which located next-door to the aforementioned cupboard), were four bedrooms. One for Mr. and Mrs. Finch, one for Greta and Evelyn, one for Edward and Victor, and one for guests when guests came, but otherwise for collection overflow on behalf of Mr. Finch, Mrs. Finch, Greta, and Evelyn (all of whom would have rather kept all of each collection in his or her room, but ran out of space). Edward and Victor, wanting to share in the equal subdivision of the spare room, collected odds and ends precisely for the purpose of storing when no guests were around. Edward, without giving much thought to it, collected many ounces of dust lying around the house (causing Mrs. Finch to keep her sanity in check in the most mundane respects of furniture dusting), and Victor had the clever idea of cutting out encyclopedia articles which he thought he might read in the future when he got around to it, (of course, Mr. Finch was not of the knowledge of this defacement) and putting them in spare jars which Evelyn discarded when any particular culture grew too big for it. This resulted in Victor not wanting to actually read the articles because to pull them back out again would render the entire time reading a time spent smelling nothing short of the most awful stench in the world, which was impossible to wash out of the jars. There was also a bathroom up stairs which everyone shared, though everyone complained considerably of everyone else taking much too long in the bathroom doing various and sundry preparations and primpings which were necessary to the party concerned with doing preparations and primpings, but were absolutely ridiculous to all who were affected by not being able to use the bathroom at the time they wished to.

All in all the Finch family lived their lives in the same way as you might live yours or I might live mine: with the sense that they are just simply living day by day as is best known to them, without giving much thought over to any sort of comparison with other families or other ways of life which may or may not be considered more normal or more abnormal. Did not the Finch family have friends? Surely. Did they spend time outside their home? Almost certainly. But those are other stories for other times.

Wait....what do you mean by "family"?

My siblings and I are staying at my grandparent's for a few days, and tonight my great-grandmother took Marck, Robert, Grammy, Papa, Aunt Eleanor, and I out to eat pizza.  While we were eating another family walked in.  At least, I guess it was a family.

It was a mom, a dad, and two boys.  One of the boys looked to be about five, and the other one may have been eleven or so.  The eleven-year-old was playing a game on his cell phone, and the five-year-old was playing one of those Nintendo DS carry-around things as they walked in.  The parents ordered and the kids were still playing their games.  I could hear the music from the games halfway across the restaurant. 

This playing continued as the older boy and the parents went to the salad bar and got salads.  Eating and playing, playing and eating.  There was barely any talking from the table at all.  Finally the older boy put his phone away, and a while later, the mom told the younger boy that it was time for the game to go bye-bye for now since the pizza was almost there.  The younger boy was on the verge of a fit, and got a little talking-to from his mother.  The rest of the time he was squirmy (more than a typical five-year-old), moving all around his chair and looking very bored as he too sporadic bites of his pizza.  The older boy brought out his cell phone again about halfway through their meal.  I couldn't hear or see the family talking at all.  It was just sad.

Now, maybe this family goes out to dinner all the time and this was just another meal for them.  But when our family sits down all together for a meal (which isn't too common) we like to actually spend time with each other while doing so.  Going out to eat is something we don't do that often (because of the cost and because of the non-health-benefits associated with it), but when we do, it is a fun family activity.  I like my family and I like being with them.  Sure, I went through a phase when I was on the younger side of the teen years when I would bring a book whenever we went out to eat because I guess I wanted to read more than I wanted to be with my family or something like that.  Hey, at least books are better for your than portable video games.  

I just wonder what the point of having a family is if you go through life like that....ignoring each other.  "Who are those big people again?  Yeah, those embarrassing ones who wake me up at five in the morning to get on the bus, and who magically place food in front of me at dinner time and remind me to brush my teeth at night.  Who are those little people I keep tripping over?  I don't know, but when I come into contact with them it is incredibly annoying.  And that semi-big person?  I don't know who he is either, but he doesn't seem to like me very much."

Siblings grow up and don't even know each other, even though they should be best friends.  Parents don't know their children and aren't involved in their lives enough to recognize if the kids are getting into stuff they shouldn't.  The kids who suck their brains out playing video games all day become ADHD, and the only solution seems to be to medicate them and/or let them play more video games.  The kids also become very wonderful at developing surface relationships and terrible at developing deep ones.

It is just so sad.  I feel sorry for that family and every single one like it.  It must be awful to go through life like that.  And so what if both your parents work and they provide a big house for you to live in, millions of toys (excuse me, video games and movies), drive you around in nice cars, can afford for you a brand new car when you turn 16, and you can eat at nice restaurants every night?  What is the point of all that if you all hate each other because you hardly know one another?  If I had to give up my relationships with my mom, dad, and brothers just so I could have the life of luxury that everyone wishes they had at some point(s) or another, I wouldn't even think twice about doing it.  As long as I have my family I wouldn't mind a dumpster.  Okay, yes I would.  Maybe I should have used a different analogy.  A really bad looking lean-to shelter thing.  NOT a dumpster.  And not a port-a-potty.  

My parents have said that I can live with them forever if I want to.  Of course, not in the loser-who-lives-in-his-parent's-basement-and-plays-online-all-the-time kind of way.  In the way where I (eventually) will have a job/career around here someplace, so I can contribute to the house expenses, and I will help my mom keep the house as I do now.  Even if my brothers marry and move out (which I don't want them to till I get married, but in case that doesn't work out), I will stay with my parents, more than likely.  I guess if I get a job somewhere not close by I will have to move out, but I really don't want to live by myself, or with a bunch of girls.  I would want to live with a man, because otherwise I wouldn't feel safe.  So the only solutions are to live with a family wherever I move to, or get married.  Or just bloody stay here ;).  I don't know.  God will light my path when I get to that point.  Really, I want to only have two families in my life - the one I am living in now, and the one I start in the future when I get married.  

And I never, ever, ever, ever, EVER want to lose contact with my friends.  You guys are the greatest!!!  

~Jessica   

Some Reflections on 2008

Books I’ve Read (I am pretty sure it is the shortest list I have ever had)
The Turn of the Screw by Henry James
Quest for Love by Elizabeth Elliot
Nicholas Nickelby by Charles Dickens
Twilight by Stephanie Meyer
Anne of Green Gables
Anne of Avonlea
Anne of the Island
Anne of Windy Poplars
Anne’s House of Dreams
Anne of Ingleside
Rainbow Valley
Rilla of Ingleside by L. M. Montgomery
When God Writes Your Love Story by Eric and Leslie Ludy
King Lear
A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
Under the Tuscan Sun by Francine Prose
The Sea Wolf by Jack London
Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Patterson
Love, Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli
Into the Forest by Jean Hegland
Marriage and Family by Robert H. Lauer and Jeanette C. Lauer
Beowulf translated by Seamus Heaney
The Secrets of Songwriting by Susan Tucker
Thr3e by Ted Dekker
Let Me be a Woman by Elizabeth Elliot


Favorite Movie of 2008
I actually didn’t see that many movies, at least ones that were released this year. I kind of liked the Batman movie and the Twilight movie, but nothing really amazing stood out to me.


Favorite Songs Released in 2008
Low – Flo-ri-a ft. T-Pain
4 Minutes – Madonna ft. Justin Timberlake
Viva la Vida – Coldplay
Won’t Go Home Without You – Maroon 5


Favorite Songs that I’ve Listened to in 2008
All the TSO songs
All the Nickel Creek songs
Ben Folds, “The Luckiest”
Sweeny Todd Soundtrack
Evita Soundtrack


New Friends I’ve Met (in person…those who I have not met in person yet, I hope you are on this list at the end of 2009!)
Becca
Scott
Alex
Maryn
Moriah
Natalie


Things I’ve Done
Graduated
Gotten a laptop
Turned 18
Started to take piano more seriously
Discovered a love for composing and not just simple songwriting
Realized I don’t have to get married RIGHT NOW
Gotten more interested in reading my Bible and theology in general
Heard my life calling from afar
Completed an undefeated swimming season

Gone real camping for the first time

Tried my hand at sewing clothes (I have yet to see what the finished product will resemble)
Been more passionate than ever about homeschooling my own kids
Decided college is not for me (“college torture, / college university! / Arts and crafts is all I need, / I’ll take calligraphy / and then I’ll make a fake degree…”)
Played Ultimate Frisbee and really liked it
Won my heat and placed 10th for butterfly at the TSA championships
Started this blog
Decided I’m VERY done bragging about my accomplishments


Best Thing of 2008:
NO MORE SCHOOL!!!!!!!!!!!!! Time to start learning… :)


My thoughts at the beginning of the year:
My GOSH…I am going to graduate and THEN WHAT!?!??!?
And
If I don’t get married to *insert name here* then I don’t know what I will do!

My Thoughts at the end of the year:
You have to take time to listen to what God’s plans for you are. But he will reveal them to you eventually.
And
Right now I have as much chance of marrying ______ or _______ as I do anybody else in the world. So why should I give anybody, especially them, any romantic attention or thought right now? Crushes, no matter how you justify them, are crushes and mean nothing….

~Jessica

Preoccupations of the Mind

Now that the Holiday break is upon me (almost...I have an exam tonight but I had no problem with the study guide so I'm sure it will be fine), perhaps I will be able to write more. I have been a lazy blogger all semester. Here! Read a poem I wrote a year and a half ago! Watch this thing on YouTube I watched over the summer! Yes, I have occasionally appeared live and in person, but most of the blogs that posted were scheduled in August. I don't mean to be so impersonal, but I wanted you all to have something to read while I had no time to write it. Consequently I am quite out of poetry until my brain can think up some more. Video of the Week shall be taking a break until I run out of time again (probably some time mid-January, so if you think about it, it really isn't that long). The truth is I really enjoy blogging, and wish to continue doing it. It just is a big time consumer. I'm not saying it wastes my time, but it probably is not the most useful thing to be doing either.

So...since something like Friday afternoon (after my English exam was over), I have started overwhelming myself with a bunch of information. That sounds a little funny to your Average Joe, I guess, who is probably scratching his head and wondering "why is she studying MORE now that she is done with school for the semester?" and why do people scratch their heads anyways? Does having your brain respond to something make it itchy? I don't scratch my head when I am wondering something, but perhaps I am used to wondering and I have become immune to brain-itches. Nonetheless, learning is something I have been waiting to do all semester! Sure, Sociology is interesting enough for a while, but then it just gets depressing and I start to think that maybe the reason the population is declining is because everyone is taking Sociology of the Family and getting depressed and discouraged about having families. I have not changed my mind, but let me tell you that some of this stuff is painful to study. And I am not even from one of those broken homes or blended families or anything else like that! I have talked to other people in the class who are not as blessed as I am to have a mom, dad, and siblings of origin who are a traditional family with joint sharing-something-or-other and we all love each other most of the time, and it gets to them more than it does me. However, I shall prevail.

What I was saying before I got off on that was.....um......yeah. Learning. Oh, I also learned in British Literature, don't worry. It was a fun class. But all the paper writing drove me crazy, as usual. The only class I want to take over again where I had to write papers would be English 111. That was the best class ever....I could pick ANY subject to write about and could be as opinionated or satirical as I so desired. It was paradise. For me.

SO BACK TO WHAT I WAS SAYING TWO PARAGRAPHS AGO, I have learned a lot since Friday, and it hasn't even been a week. First of all, some friends came to stay over Friday because their parents went out of town. One of these friends really likes to educate people on very interesting things. I could just sit there all day and he would tell me everything about anything I wanted to know about. I don't know how somebody can have so much information in their head and be able to recall it exactly and then explain it to somebody like me in a way that that somebody can actually understand it. So after two days or so I learned a lot more than I expected to, plus he had brought some Michael Rood DVDs that we watched Friday night. Michael Rood is extremely cool, I have discovered. I like cool people. :D

After all of that, I then began doing all that I have been looking forward to all semester, which is learning. I have been studying law, religion, medicine/health stuff, and midwifery. It is all quite fascinating. The only problem is that I am now putting so much into my brain that I haven't really been talking to anyone. This blog post is the most I have said in five days, and this is writing. I don't know if my mother has noticed anything, but I seem to be having trouble keeping up conversation. She asks me, "How was your day?" And I answer, "Uh...good." "What did you do?" "Uh....stuff."

Yeah, I guess I still am a teenager, but I usually am...uh....responsive. I am a girl. I talk. At least, I thought I did, but I guess I don't. I am too preoccupied. I feel like Mr. Meredith from the Anne of Green Gables books. I am too preoccupied with my theological musings that I cannot seem to do anything but look glazed over and then go back to studying, perhaps writing down some thoughts on what I am reading. Yes, I had about three epiphanies yesterday, so I wrote those in my journal, and went right back to studying. I am sure I am driving my mother crazy. Sorry mom!

On top of all that, if I do have a conversation it is very surface, even with people I normally do not have surface conversations with. Take this blog entry for instance. I can't even think of anything to say other than "I have not been able to think of anything to say." I DO NOT FEEL LIKE CARRYING ON A CONVERSATION. Let me repeat....I am a girl and conversations are all-too-natural.

Perhaps I am in Absorbing Mode. I am a sponge that may be in dire need of squeezing, but squeezing hurts, so for right now I am only dripping. Some day I will submit to being squeezed, but for right now just leave me be, and feel free to run water on me or dunk me in a pan of water...I am all for it!

Let this be a disclaimer--if I do not talk to you this week or do not talk much, please do not think I don't like you. That is not true. I [probably] like you very much.

Talk you you all later (heh heh...)

~Jessica

Video of the Week

I really thing this guy has a good approach to things...he's obviously a Libertarian...I like the way he confronts the issue. Good grief...Americans can be so shallow sometimes, and I'm glad I'm not the only one who notices!

Video of the Week

Okay, here's how this is going to work. It's not necessary, but before watching the actual Video of the Week, you need to first watch at least a little bit of each of the preceeding videos. Okay, you don't have to watch.......that is, if you are already a Nickel Creek fan!!!! :D






Okay, now for the feature film... ;)

Video of the Week

This video is called "Hope on Homeschooled Guys." I'm guessing she was public schooled......well, now everyone will know how we find them so irresistible!

Cute...I like them...

Now, I've never posted a video before. If this doesn't work in the next ten minutes, I'll just post a link to it. Be prepared for a lot of banging around as I attempt to figure this all out:

Okay, you can officially forget it. I hate computers. Um...if somebody who already knows how to put youtube videos on a blog post could ever-so-nicely explain it to me, I'd be much obliged and forever in your debt. In the mean time, watch these two girls in this funny little film:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=apaxo6WJm-g

Oh, and while I'm at it...here's a couple Rhett and Link videos of the two songs they played at Bible study that aren't on their albums...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gCu5ojNlpi0

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kqmJ4pZkXlQ

And there's no need to forget my obsession with Nickel Creek...EVER!!! Here's another video, this time with their song "Young":

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PM5NF5UAhag

Have fun, and don't forget my video-from-the-internet posting lesson! :D

The Ocean-Side Holiday, Part Two

Deja vu...

As we walked up the deck, back towards our condo, we stopped and looked at the
condo next door to ours on the left. It was quiet, but that shouldn’t have been
deceiving. The night before at about two o’clock, we were rudely awakened by the
booming of music, fireworks and various screams and throwing-against-the-wallses.
It was a house full of night owl party animals, right next door to us.
We weren’t even sure why they were staying there. It was our third full day on the beach and we hadn’t really seen them out on the beach at all. We had only seen them on their porch, and every morning they would come out on the deck overlooking the beach while we played football.
Otherwise, hardly a word came from their station, except at night (much to
everyone’s dismay).
Mike and I had gotten rather tired of the partying, and concluded that, if it were to persist tonight, we would wake up early and do our best to be equally as noisy during the day, which was when our neighbors apparently were sleeping.
We walked on and had just reached the safety of our own deck, when two guys came out of our adjoining condo. Neither of them looked much older than Mike. They were scrawny and hairy and both took to walking on the rail of the deck that stretched out from all the condos and overlooked the beach.
A preppy blonde stuck her head out of the house. “Omigod, get down you guys!”
She shrieked, giggling.
“We’re fine!” Responded the hairier one.
“Yeah! Look!” The other one took off his shirt (Mike and I cringed at the abundance of hair and lack of muscles which he proceeded to try to flex) and he threw it at
the girl.
“If you fall I’m SO going to kill you!” The girl chortled, catching the shirt and going back in the house.
The guys ignored us as they jumped off the railing, walked over to some boogie boards leaning against their condo, grabbed them, and ran down to the beach.

That was from that story I'm writing...you see, I've been writing it for about two years now. I started it just before our beach trip two years ago, so this is my third beach trip working on it. It doesn't have a title, so I'll just call it "That Story." Anyways...that was based off of what we were plagued with 2 years ago when we stayed in this same condo. Last year we were fine, and thankful for it. Then...guess what? A big bunch of college students arrived late Friday afternoon in the condo next to ours. I was having serious deja vu, especially when they turned on the music very loud (I recognized almost all the songs mostly by their resounding, sub woofer-afied bass lines), drank, smoked, and partied like there was nobody else around trying to sleep at midnight, or at least concentrate on reading a book.

We were coming back from eating at Jordan's Seafood when some of the people arrived. There were two guys and a girl. One of the guys, once he got in, immediately came out on the beach. It was dusk, and Marck and I were out appreciating our beautiful surroundings. He kind of ruined everything as he whipped out his cellphone, plunked himself down in the sand, and said to his friend, "Hey, man! Guess what I'm doing...having a beer on the beach!"

There was an absence for most of yesterday of nice, clear, salty air as we went from our deck to the beach...all I could smell was tobacco smoke. It was awful.

Last night we concluded they went clubbing or something, because it was actually quiet at their home, till they all came in about 12 or 1 AM, making a bit of a racket. We haven't heard them this morning. Yesterday afternoon they were all down at the beach, set up probably 30 yards from us. Marck and I kept accidentally drifting down to where they were set up. All the girls were in bikinis, and sometimes they would get in the water a little bit, and scream at every wave that came by. It was very funny...Marck and I just had to make fun of them...I think they were too self-absorbed to notice. After all, when Grammy asked them Friday night at 11:45 to please "keep it down to a roar", they barely turned down the music, and certainly didn't turn themselves down. Yeah...pretty self-absorbed. Another reason I'm glad I was homeschooled...I was around my parents enough to learn to be conscientious.

Anyways, despite all there is to complain about, I'm having a great time. I'm about two thirds of the way through Twilight...I'm still liking it! I am a little curious as to what she's going to add to the plot(s) to put in the other three books. I'm just hoping it's not something that wasn't meant to be a series, like Pirates of the Caribbean, that she just adds-on to later, resulting in poorer plots....you see what I mean? I just don't see how this could get to be something that extends beyond the first book, but perhaps it does...

Anyways, I'm off to go play out in the sunshine...

I Stole My Brother's Camera...

Well, you see, the sky was interesting one morning at 6:30 ish. It was as if a cloud just sat on top of our house or something...we were totally enclosed in a fog, but the fog was several feet off the ground. It was weird. So I took Marck's camera (not having one of my own, you see), and took a few pictures...

I took this after photographing the above...I started feeling all photographer-ish, and wanted to take a picture of something that would be in a pretty magazine...

That was the day after my birthday, I think. On my birthday, the H's, the T's, and my family had a cookout. It wasn't FOR my birthday, but it sure was fun. Here are some highlights from my birthday (Marck took all these, by the way):

Me being woken up by the paparazzi...not really wanting a picture taken of me right as I wake up.

This is actually me, under the covers, hiding from the camera.

Me (on the left), Lizzie (foreground right) and Sarah (next to Lizzie) planning the Quotes Only Blog.

Lizzie and me trying to do synchro

Five-A-Live:

All in all, it was a great birthday!! I did get my license renewed *huzzah*. However, now it says "under 21" instead of "under 18." I can't get away from any sort of conviction of that sort, can I? *sigh*

Either Marck or I will have some pictures from the pool party the following Saturday very soon.

~Jessica

A Tale of a Tuesday Morning

YES...I know it's Thursday now. And this will have to actually be short because somehow in the process of playing the guitar I sprained my left pinky finger, and it hurts exceedingly terrible. Okay, that was a bad attempt at being descriptive. Nonetheless, if any q's, a's, or z's are missing from my narrative, you know why.

So Tuesday morning, I was rendered Groggy Beyond Repair. After I had driven out of the driveway only to be almost run over by a car speeding up the hill and around the curve (we don't really have an ideal location for our driveway), I made up my mind that in order to prevent any more accidents, I must get some coffee. Sure, I had already had one cup, but that was 3 1/2 hours before I had gotten in the car! So I was off to Starbucks.

I walked in quickly, wanting to get out of the humidity as soon as possible. You must understand, humidity does abhorable things to my hair. I will not go into detail...you'll see for yourself sooner or later. So I shuffled over to the cash register, and a blonde woman with freckles and plastic-rimmed glasses said to me "Hiiii-ya, what can I get you this morning?!?!?!" in a very valley-girl sort of accent, in a very hyper fashion. It seemed innocent enough...typical Starbuckian behavior.

I said, "I'll take a grande caramel latte with whip and drizzle."
Before I could get past the grande caramel latte part, however, she said, "Grande caramel latteeeeeee, good choice!!!"

So I tried to repeat myself, "With whip and drizzle, please..."

Before I could get past saying "whip" again, she exclaimed, "With whip, oh, awesome!! Would you like drizzle on that too at no extra charge?"

"Yes," I muttered, attempting to act pleasant.

"Alright, that will be *insert actual price that I cannot remember here*."

So, I had two giftcards that looked exactly the same. I thought that I had marked one with a "B" because it was from Barb, and left the one from Elayna without any markings on it, so I could remember which one had more money on it. Alas, all I could find was one blank and one with a number "2" on the front. Being really really really sleepy as stated before, I concluded that the one from Barb was the one with nothing written on it, even though I had gotten the one from her second, so naturally I would have written number "2" on it.

I gave the lady the blank card, and she scanned it, looked at the screen for a second, and then started rambling on about something. I'm sure I looked at her quite confusedly, and perhaps I was the one in the wrong because I was not fully awake. But she kept saying, "You owe, like, two dollars and eighty-seven cents on your card."

I blinked cluelessly.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" She asked, still in valley girl mode.

"Uh...no," I confessed.

"I scanned your card, and now you, like, owe, like, two dollars and eighty-seven cents on it," she repeated, handing the card back to me.

"Oh..." I nodded. And then, being sleepy, as usual, I just handed her the $50 bill I had in my wallet, instead of reaching in for the other Starbucks card. Somehow in that moment I had also acquired the notion that Barb had given me a card with only $1 on it, instead of the actual $15.

Because of the fifty, it took her a long time to make change. In that lengthy moment, I finally put two and two together and realized I had used the wrong card. She gave me my change and said that momentarily my drink would b up.

I threw the old card away and waited what seemed like an eternity for my drink, which the Valley Girl Coffee Lady also made, while talking to all her co-workers about who-knows-what, in that same accent. The only good thing about it was that she wasn't paying her entire attention to what she was doing, and gave me a LOT of whipped cream.

That was my only consolation.

I sped out of the shop with my drink, drove around the shopping center a couple times searching for an exit facing in the direction I wanted to go, and finally sped on out of there to school. To calm my rage (rather, a constant rolling of my eyes--so I'm not sure how I got there in one piece), I was able to find a parking spot fairly quickly that WASN'T in Alaska.

This morning I went to the same shopping center, but instead of the main Starbucks, I went to the one inside Harris Teeter. What wonderful reasonable people work there!! Well, the barista didn't give me SO much whipped cream...but to actually deal with a sane race made that a minor setback.

And I found an even closer parking space this morning... :D

The Little Conference – Day Two

1. I drank 3 cups of coffee
2. It’s spelled “Andrew Pudewa”, not “Andrew Pudawa”
3. He gave a GREAT keynote speech which I will probably blog more about on a later date after I’ve read some things he recommended people to during the speech by John Taylor Gatto
4. I never saw the really nice, sweet guy named Will again…it was very sad
5. I concluded I wanted to go into the wilderness to find myself and breech the path into adulthood
6. My parents concluded that they were not going to let me do this
7. *very large sigh on the account of item #6*
8. There was this annoying guy who kept staring at me and started pathetically tossing a football around very near me while his brother helped another family load up their van (which he was supposed to be doing), and we loaded up ours. I made a point to not give him the slightest satisfaction of having any of my attention (aside from noticing how annoying he was in the first place).
9. My mom and I actually TALKED to THE Andrew Pudewa
10. I went to a session on distance education and now I’m not sure AGAIN what I want to do with myself…AAAARRRRRGGGGGG!!!!!! (puts away pirate hat, sword, and eye patch hastily and looks around as if nothing happened)
11. As we were leaving…guess who I saw!!! Keith and Kristen Getty, just walking around!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
12. Oh, and I saw Josh C., too…he and I said “Hi” and “see you at water polo”
13. Some random kid said I should do gymnastics in the Olympics
14. I avoided my urge to tell him that having not done gymnastics for 12 years and being 5’ 8” didn’t really qualify me for doing that
15. We went to Kabuki Steakhouse for dinner
16. It was yummy, but some lady kept complaining about the freshness of her pickled ginger, and left.
17. We declared her a Sushi Diva
18. We went to Target for dog food and I looked at the clothes longingly
19. I went outside to sing with the crickets……this song (click "more info" on the sidebar for the lyrics), among a few of my own…
20. I fell asleep on the deck of the office
21. I woke up, freezing, grabbed my guitar, went inside, and went to bed

Well, it was a nice day…

The Little Conference - Day One

One thing our family used to do is homeschool conferences. I don’t mean the typical homeschool family that makes a trip to their local conference once a year to get curriculum and maybe listen to speakers. We have this business, you see. It’s called “Active Learner School Supplies”, and the main products are marker boards with different educational “markings” on them…some look like notebook paper, some like maps, some like football fields…very hard to explain, but the website is http://active-learner.com. Anyways, we used to travel to many different conferences as vendors when I was younger, for probably three or four years. It was kind of stressful, but it was so much fun! We’ve stopped, but then a woman we know who lives near us asked us if we wanted to come and be vendors at her little conference at Colonial this weekend. We said yes! It’s been different than it used to be, but still it’s kind of like going back to the old days…

I got up…slowly…ate breakfast, did weed eating (finally figured out that the problem with the string was that I wound it in the wrong direction…heh, heh…), showered, got readied, and mom and I left. The guys had already gotten there to start setting up. We finished setting up…and I wanted to get in my nice clothes, but it was FREEZING!! So I skipped the skirt and just put on my shirt, running into Mrs. A in the restroom. She used to test me, and asked what I was planning on doing. She was so nice…she said that marketing and advertising, even though I was just starting off doing a little bit for my dad, was a real good field for me to get into, since writing seemed to be my “thing”…and it paid more than an English teacher. How nice of her…and to think I’ve been afraid of her all these years! I really like not having to be tested ever again.

After a bit, mom and I went to the first session, going to go see Andrew Pudawa speak. He teaches writing…created some curriculum called “Excellence in Writing” that my brothers use, and occasionally I watch for entertainment’s sake. He talked a lot about creating writers, and that the main thing is talking a lot as a family, and reading out loud to children of any age. I thought the talk was fascinating.

After that, I was really, really, really, really cold. My feet had fallen asleep because I had taken off my flip-flops during the session, sat Indian-style, and tucked my freezing feet up in between my hamstrings and calves. I walked to the Tribute, and with my feet still asleep, drove back to the house (it was kind of a strange experience). I let the rained-on dogs inside, grabbed a sweater, and then drove to the Y’s house. I got in the trash, got the mail, checked on Benny the bunny (he wasn’t hungry), and quickly drove back to Colonial and walked in 10 minutes late to a session on music therapy. There was a very nice guy assisting with the presentation…he had just served an internship with the company who was giving it. He was very nice. I already said that. He apparently had already graduated from college and was about to study for a few weeks (maybe?) to become officially a neurological musical therapist. Did I mention how nice he was? I came in the back, and was going to sit down in the very back, but he came, smiling, to give me the piece of paper that went along with the presentation, and asked if I wanted to sit closer to the front. I consented. Later we were doing a rhythm exercise. I didn’t get the triangle. Well…nobody did, so that was alright. However, I got a triangle-shaped drum kind of thing. The lady leading the presentation was short a mallet to hit it, so she asked the guy (whose name was Will) to get me one. He brought it to me, kind of tripping for no reason. He said it was because he thought that a red stripe in the otherwise green carpet was something he had to step over…….so he handed me my mallet and smiled, briefly touching my shoulder before turning around and heading back towards the front. So we did the exercise, and then the woman collected some instruments, and Will the others. He came all the way down the otherwise empty row to get mine, saying “Thank you very much!” when I handed them to him...I said, “You’re welcome very much.” Wow. Originality and depth of thought just ABOUND, don’t they? Well…at least I didn’t say he had swishy hair, because he didn’t. When I went out the door, I told him “Thank you”, because the lady in front of me did. He said “You’re welcome, take care!” Which he did NOT say to the lady in front of me. I probably blushed, and couldn’t say anything else, so I just nodded shyly and went out…AND I’LL NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN!!! *tear* He was SO nice. He also kind of looked like the guy who played Gilbert in Anne of Green Gables…Jonathan Crombie, I think his name is. He sort of seemed like a Rockwell, too. Oh, how I wonder…*sigh*

I finally met up with the rest of my family down at the booth, but was quickly dragged away again by this lady who sells healthy Superfood-type-drinks, wondering if I wanted another free sample. I had my free sample (it IS very good…), and then we wandered over to this other booth selling nature books. It was run by this New Zealand couple who really like animals. They were telling me about all the zoos they had been to. They said they’ve never heard of Wolf Park, but there is this place called Alligator River in North Carolina where a guy will take you out on a boat a dusk, and call to the wolves, who will call back. Apparently those particular wolves are a hybrid between the Mexican red wolf and the coyote. Isn’t that neat? And their accents were sooooo cool…they were pretty neat people.

So, we closed up and went home. We watched Mythbusters, and now we’re watching the Olympics. If I get a chance, I’ll probably blog tomorrow. Seeya!

The Top 50 "Stupidest" Personality Types

The other day I was thinking. Well, I mean, I do that a lot…I guess everyone does from time to time. Well, most everyone.

You see, as a matter-of-fact, I was thinking about why tabloids are always doing features like “Top 50 Hottest Celebrities”, as if I really cared. And then I thought, well, why don’t they devote a whole issue to the “Top 50 Stupidest People in the World” or something. That would really grab my attention.

I mentioned this idea to my dad and he suggested I should do it myself. After all, it would be good practice if I really did decide to become a journalist or something. But then it came to mind that, as much fun as I make of people, I really don’t want to outright offend anyone. So I’m going to go a slightly different path:

THE TOP 50 "STUPIDEST" PERSONALITY TYPES

*ahem*

50. PEOPLE THAT WORSHIP CELEBRITIES
Seriously, this bugs me quite badly. They’re just people that are somehow more artistically talented than you (more or less) and so somehow they are your roll model and forever and ever you shall worship the very ground they walk on, should you ever take a stroll down Hollywood Boulevard or Rodeo Drive. Ugh.

49. OVERLY VAIN PEOPLE
One night my dad, my brother and I were behind this car carrying two college-age girls. At every stop light they would pull down their visors and would thus beautify themselves. We would have to honk at them to tell them when the light was green each time. Once they started moving, they would not put the visors back up at first, and would weave all around the road, one time going as far as to run another car off. This happened at about three or four lights. By that time I decided that I would write a whole movie about them. But that’s another story.

48. UNIMAGINATIVE PEOPLE
I don’t know what it is with these people. They love pre-arranged activities and always ridicule people that would rather spend their time being creative. They’re conformists because they can’t think for themselves. Which brings me to number…

47. SQUARES
They’re obsessed with being popular and with what everyone else thinks. If they’re girls, all they talk about is makeup, Abercrombie, boys and “o-mi-gosh-did-you-see-Dee-with-Josh???” If they’re guys, I don’t know much but I do know a square guy when I see him and he’s immediately written off my list of guys I want to marry.

46. NEGATIVE PEOPLE
What ever happened to thinking on the bright side? My dad calls these people, “Battery Drainers”, because they drain you of all energy. If they aren’t negative about themselves, they’re negative about you. I used to be one of these people and I drove myself crazy. “Oh, I guess I’m not very pretty.” “You should stop shopping at Target and start shopping at Macy’s.”

45. PEOPLE WHO HATE ROLLER COASTERS
They’re fine people except at theme parks and at the State Fair. No fun at all. Can’t do anything with them except sit at the Pig races and eat too much food. Not that bad, if you think about it, but bad enough to make it onto this list. Seriously, what’s the point of going to these places if you’re not going to ride the biggest, tallest, scariest ride ever? And that girl should have had her feet fastened on better.

44. PEOPLE WHO ARE BETTER THAN YOU AND KNOW IT
Just a little self-esteem “booster”, eh? No, we don’t need you rubbing it in that you’re skinny, 5’ 2” and blonde. We certainly don’t need you showing off how much faster you are at swimming than the rest of us. No need to brag about all the stuff you can buy thanks to your dad’s immense fortune or how many R-rated movies you’ve been allowed to watch. Well…well…I’m taller, I have more potential, I’m more prepared for the future and…I don’t have a dirty mind! Yeah!!

43. PEOPLE WHO SNEEZE INTO THE POOL
Sorry, Nathan and Noah, but it is kind of annoying and gross.

42. PEOPLE WHO NEVER HAVE TO GO TO THE BATHROOM
I’m always embarrassed when I’m with these people. I don’t have an overactive bladder, but I’m not attempting to get into the Guinness Book of World Records for longest period of water retention either. There are certain times when I want to go to the bathroom (right before a movie, right before a long, difficult swimming set, in the middle of a boring, droning speech, right after eating, eventually on a 13-hour car trip) and I like it when someone else will say, “you need to go to the bathroom?” I don’t like to ask. Maybe it’s me.

41. UNHEALTHY PEOPLE THAT COMPLAIN ABOUT BEING FAT
DUH!!! There’s a reason. I know people that will complain about how fat they look in whatever it may be, and then not even an hour later I’ll see them getting 3 bags of Fritos, a package of Starburst and some Reeces Pieces out of a vending machine and eating them all right then. For dinner. I lecture them and they ignore me. Bothersome elephants anyway.

40. PEOPLE THAT LISTEN TO RAP “MUSIC”
It’s not music. Not singing, not playing an instrument. Just talking in a rhythm about anything offensive to some annoying beat created by a computer. I don’t like country much either, but at LEAST it takes talent. And just for anyone’s general knowledge, 50 Cent does not write deep lyrics.

39. PEOPLE THAT HAVE BAD MEMORIES
Now, I love these people to death on most occasions. They’re quite in the same league as the people that hate roller coasters. It’s annoying when they can’t even remember a heated debate you held with them yesterday. Or you run into them two days after a weeklong camp where you encountered them every day so of COURSE they should recognize you, right? I used to say hi to the latter people…now I just wander aimlessly about pretending that I don’t recognize them either. Like Phil Collins says, “I’ve seen your face before, my friend, but I don’t know if you know who I am…”

38. INDECISIVE PEOPLE
You know what I love? I love hanging around my improv friends. Why? Because I feel secure around them, because I know that whatever problems arise, they will be fixed in a matter of seconds. I rest assured that no matter what comes our way, it will be resolved, and quickly. But I can’t stand to be around people who are the opposite. If an issue comes up, they will take days, weeks, months, years, decades, centuries, millennia…how ever long they know they can take to make a decision. In the mean time they will analyze EVERYTHING and run it all through their head, seemingly stopping on one possibility but then immediately switching to something that sounds better. Oh, how I love improvers.

37. PEOPLE WHO PLAY MUSIC WHEN YOU’RE TRYING TO WATCH TV
I’d have to admit that I’m one of these people. I, myself, am quite guilty of coming into whichever room may house a TV with my guitar, mandolin, or recorder, or my brother’s bass or just simply sit down at the piano and begin to play whatever comes to mind at that moment. It’s fine when I do it—I’m quite capable of doing two things at once. However, when someone else does it, my tolerance wears thin. I’ve been told a million times that if I dish it out I should be able to take it. So I’m working on that. Unintentional but probable outcome—I’ll end up marrying someone who does the same thing.

36. PEOPLE WHO TURN ON THE TV WHEN YOU’RE PLAYING MUSIC
Not guilty!!! However, certain siblings of mine are quite the opposite.

35. PESSIMISTS
I know I already covered negative people, but this just goes to show you I can’t stand anyone of the sort. If I decide I want to do something, don’t tell me I can’t, just simply because it seems humanly impossible to you. Ugh-ness-icity.

34. WANNABES
The reason I don’t really like American Idol is because every time I watch it, I begin to have a bad attitude about how stupid all the wannabes are. I just can’t stand people who do something that they’re not good at in front of everyone, and then get mad when someone tells them they stink.

33. TANNERS
What’s the point of a pool membership if you simply lay out all day and only get into the pool to cool off for two seconds? Dark skin? Ugh. Don’t get me started on this one. Tanning is so incredibly shallow to me (especially when done without doing anything useful like reading Charles Dickens or something)…I could go on for days about how stupid it is.


Well, it seems as if I’ve run out for now. *sigh* If anyone else has any suggestions, feel free to tell me. I’ve got to go now, though. Bye!

~Jessica