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Hasta la Vista, BEDA! April 30, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — bookwormdaisy @ 11:52 pm
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Oh hey! It’s the last day of Blog Every Day April! I should be feeling really nostalgic, but in truth, I’ll be blogging very frequently, like I normally do, you just won’t get sucky posts where I don’t know what to say. That said, this has been super duper fun, and I did like being obligated to post every day. Just, you know, one month a year is good enough for me.

I’d love to end this month on a high note, some totally hilarious story I’ve been keeping from you, but I honestly can’t think of any. I’m really sorry, but I just can’t think of what to write about! Consider this post as sort of a “Bye, BEDA, stop pressuring me to write every day and I won’t have lame two-paragraph long posts like this!” sort of deal.

Awesome: Mum won her trial yaaay!

Unawesome: It’s so cold outside!


Congratulate my mom right the freak now!

Filed under: Uncategorized — bookwormdaisy @ 1:19 am
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Oh hey! My mom won her trial! Yaaaaay! Oh, and she’s not a criminal, she’s a lawyer, by the way. But hoooraaaay! Cheer her on in the comments, ’cause she’s amazing and wonderful and this was a really good case she deserved to win.

In other news, my grandpa is a Photoshop genius. He made this planet all by itself. Maybe that’s not impressive to you, but I think it’s freaking awesome.

It actually looks sort of blurry, but it’s even more amazing in real life. The tiny picture doesn’t do it justice. 🙂

So basically, it’s late and I’m tired and blah, so be prepared for an awesometastic blog about how awesome the play went… tomorrow.

Awesome: My mom won the trial yaaaay!

Unawesome: Um… my hands are dry?


In which I am attacked by demons, sort of. April 28, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — bookwormdaisy @ 7:27 pm
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Oh hey! Yesterday, I had no reason to think that anything particularly adventuresome would happen, and I was fine with that. I spent the morning reading and writing, and at about noon I went to the library, where I stayed until like, three. I checked out Plain Janes, Plain Janes in Love, and The Bermudez Triangle (which, for the record, is the only Maureen Johnson book I haven’t yet read. Almost done, though!).

When we got back to Thea’s house, I holed myself up in Thea’s room and read both of the Plain Janes books. Then, I started panicking when I realized that ohmygod the play is tomorrow aaaagh! So I got my script and started trying to practice and not get distracted by the shiny, shiny computer screen. This proved difficult, as there are so many distractions on the interwebs. After a while, Thea came into the room and asked if I wanted to play outside with her. I declined, being as I was being all dramatic and “Oh my God play play aaack, drama drama drama!” and also being as it was so windy outside I was a bit worried of blowing away.

After a while, I finally got some practice in and agreed to play with Thea outside. Turns out she had a few neighborhood friends with her! Yay! They seemed like nice kids, even if they thought I was “hilarious” because of all of my anxieties, a fact they exploited. One of them, named London, was about Thea’s age, although really short and tiny. There was an even tinier one who was about nine and so freaking short and I assumed she was London’s sister because they looked so much alike. Her name was Gracie. The third girl was named Nadaine and I don’t know how young she was, but I’m thinking she was maybe older than Gracie but younger than London, and she seemed absolutely convinced that Justin Bieber’s voice is so squeaky because he hasn’t had his period yet.

We played happily on Thea’s tire swing for a while, except for the time when Thea was pushing me on the swing and I wasn’t looking because I was dizzy and then I accidentally kicked Nadaine and London. That sucked. Also, I was all dizzy and the branch the swing was on was all creaky so I was screaming about how I was going to die, and little Gracie was all, “No, you’re not going to die,” which was very cute but also sort of shaming.

After a while, they decided to play a game called Pants! I added the exclamation point, but I’m pretty sure it was implied. This game involved two teams, Team One being Nadaine, London, and Gracie, and Team Two being Thea and me. During this game, everyone on Team One tried to pull the pants off of Team Two, and vice versa, only Team One decided it would be better to leave Thea alone and gang up on me. This was mildly humorous for about thirty seconds, but quickly commenced into me running around the outside of Thea’s house while evil demon nine-year-olds chased me, making my knees hurt and my pants fall off. Thankfully, Thea is a wonderful, merciful friend, who tried valiantly to save me.

After a while, they gave into my pleas for a truce and we all sat down on the grass. I was trying to be friendly, because it’s sitzpinklery* to be mad at kids much younger and smaller than you just for trying to have fun. I suggested we play Truth or Dare, because as long as I stuck to Truths, they couldn’t hurt me, but they weren’t buying it. I know, you might think it’s lame to be scared of kids who are both younger and much, much smaller than you, but 1. I’m not known for my physical strength, and 2. As you will soon see, these are super-powered devil children.

After a while, they seemed to think it was funny to start throwing grass down our shirts (“our” being Thea’s and mine). If this has ever happened to you, you will know that it’s actually not funny at all. It’s mean and itchy and if you wear a bra the grass gets stuck in it and you look hilarious pawing around in your shirt for grass.

Thea and I giggled and asked them to stop, which they seemed to think was extra hilarious. They continued to assault us, shoving grass down our shirts and pants and underwear. Apparently, though, I’m much more fun to torture, because they seemed to completely forget about Thea. I don’t know why, maybe it was just an, “Oooh! We can actually beat up the paranoid geek with man-hands! Right on!” but whatever it is, it was like freaking fuel for the devil-children. They pinned me down on the ground and started simultaneously shoving grass down my clothes and pulling off my pants.

By “pulling off my pants,” I mean that they were ripping off my knickers like some savage bears. It was all kind of a blur of pain and humiliation, but I’m pretty sure two of them were pulling my pants in one direction (and not down, mind you, they were pulling them against my hips) and the other was pulling my underwear in the opposite direction. I figured that I could be humiliated thus far, but I wasn’t going to let them take my underpants. I screamed, “JUST DON’T TAKE OFF MY UNDERWEAR! LEAVE MY UNDERWEAR ON!” which seemed to fuel their pursuits. They kept ripping my drawers off, and I remembered yelling, “You’re gonna rip my pants! I like these pants!”

Thea was sitting there on the ground looking horrorstruck and grass-covered, so I screeched, “THEA HELP ME THEA GET THEM OFF MEEEEEE!” She grabbed the one who was pulling my underwear and tried to pull her off me, which at first succeeded in making me feel even more like I was being drawn and quartered. However, being the magnificent and loyal person she is, Thea somehow managed to get them off me. I can only imagine she used a mixture of ninja-moves and Jedi mind tricks, but I don’t even recall. I thanked her profusely, stood up, and, with as much dignity as I could, said, “Well, ladies, this has been lovely, but I’m going to go now.”

I ran inside, humiliated sore, and tired, and locked myself in the bathroom where I proceeded to take off my clothes and empty them of grass. This took about five minutes, and, to make it worse, I started hearing the ice cream truck. It was playing “When the Saints Come Marching In” very cheerfully, and I felt personally insulted, like the ice cream truck was singing, “Haha, you’re cleaning grass from your tank top and yooouuuu can’t get ice cream!” It felt vaguely like the entire cosmos were turning against me, but I finally managed to clean the grass up and walk dejectedly out of the bathroom. Kim met me in the living room with an urgent, “The ice cream truck is here fast fast fast!” I thanked Kim quickly, grabbed my duct tape wallet, and went outside where I paid the ice cream man two dollars for a delicious Batman-shaped ice cream with gumballs for eyes. I smiled at the ice cream man like he had just told me I won the lottery.

Thea, Nadaine, Gracie, and London were outside, eating their ice cream. I went back inside and ate my ice cream until Nemo came to pick me up. I told him the whole extensive story as I finished my Batman ice cream. When I was done, all he said was, “Ah. Gang up on the nerd day again?”

P.S. I didn’t even mention the part where they came inside and grabbed the laptop, where my most recent post was proudly displayed on the screen. “Swordguns and Prostitutes?” one of them asked. I felt like saying, “Sweetie, you don’t even know what that word means,” but I didn’t.

Awesome: Maureen Johnson!

Unawesome: Um, getting drawn and quartered by your own pants.

*See what I did there, John Green fans?


Swordguns and Prostitutes! Yaaaay! April 27, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — bookwormdaisy @ 5:50 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Oh hey! As you might have gathered, I really like reading. Also, I really like writing, and I really like acting. Now, I’m pretty sure I’ve never talked about history on my blog. For most people, this isn’t a sign that they don’t like history. It’s just a sign that they don’t like talking about it, but I really frakking like talking about things I like. I assure you, if I liked history as much as I like, say, Galen Tyrol, or theater class, I would talk about it nonstop.

Okay, I’m really not sure if that last paragraph made sense to you, but it basically said, “I’m not a huge fan of learning about history.” That said, yesterday I sat down to watch a two-hour-long documentary about American history, which is probably my least favorite kind of history. There was a narrator who loved using the word “ragtag” to describe the American army, only instead of saying it like a normal person, he kept pronouncing it “RAAAGtag.”

However, I’m not complaining. I learned a lot of interesting stuff, so without further ado, let me present your American History lesson of the day.

So. People sailed over to America, but it was cold and a lot of them died, but they found Native Americans who helped them plant and hunt and stuff. The Americans were happy, so they massacred the rivals of the Native Americans who helped them. To celebrate, they had a dinner we now call Thanksgiving. I think my first-grade teachers left that little fact out out of our Thanksgiving play. My God, we have a messed up country. Then they evolved and blah blah blah, and all of a sudden BAM! New York! New York is awesome, and the Americans love New York! But the Americans didn’t want to pay taxes, and the King of England or something wanted them to, so the Americans dumped a bunch of tea into the ocean. Bad move, America. If you had dumped the tea into like, a lake, that would’ve been the most delicious cup of tea ever, but noooo, you had to frak up and dump it in saltwater. Fail.

The King sent over his army, the Redcoats, to keep the New Yorkers in line, but the Americans were angry and so the Redcoats killed like, five of them. Everyone got angry and blah blah blah, massacre, war fight fight fight! The Redcoats occupied New York (Am I the only one who gets reminded of New Caprica by this?) and one out of every five women was a prostitute. Fun fact! (Well, okay, that part doesn’t remind me of New Caprica, except for hookerish Ellen Tigh.)The Americans didn’t have an army, and the Redcoats were awesome at fighting, so they fought a couple of times and then the Americans decided to make an army out of like, blacksmiths and stuff, only No Girls Allowed (I told you this was some messed up history)! They went to this one place and it was freezing and then they got smallpox and then some genius tried to inoculate them by (ew!) rubbing the pus of infected people into the open wounds of uninfected people. It worked, and only one out of fifty patients who were inoculated died. Hooray!

The American army still wasn’t very awesome, but then they adopted this guy who wasn’t accepted in his country or wherever because he was gay (aaand we could learn a lesson from that). He taught them about swordguns and then they were awesome fighters yaaaaaay! Some important guy got shot in the head and then they had a war and then I sort of forgot what happened after that, but we won.

Aren’t you just amazed by my impressive knowledge of our history. Pshaw. Just kidding!

Awesome: This.

Unawesome: Um, when you drop a plate on your foot. That was Thea’s contribution. Apparently that once happened to her.


At least you’re not responsible for the Zombie Holocaust. April 26, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — bookwormdaisy @ 4:39 pm
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Oh hey! Sometimes, it’s fun to play a game I like to call “Best Case/Worst Case.” I know that sounds a lot like Best Day/Worst Day from Looking For Alaska, but I assure you, it’s nothing like that.

Whenever I was worried/nervous/excited about something, Mum would always ask me, “Well, what’s the worst that could happen?” I appreciate that this was supposed to make me feel better, but I have a very vivid imagination so it would always end with me sobbing something incoherent about homelessness. Thusly, I invented Best Case/Worst Case, because it makes me laugh and laughing always helps.

First, I imagine the worst that could happen. Then, I imagine the absolute best thing that could happen. Then, I imagine what would probably happen. Here’s an example.

I’m pretty nervous about the play I’m in on Wednesday. Best Case/Worst Case time!

Worst Case Scenario: The day of the play, I’m asked to fill in for a role because someone couldn’t show up, and  I forget all my lines and then I get distracted because I’m forgetting all my lines, and then I fall on my face and I start crying and everyone laughs at me and my reputation is forever ruined and then I go crazy because everyone hates me and I decide to kill all of humanity by inventing a zombie disease that turns everyone into zombies and everyone turns into zombies and I realize that I killed everyone and I’m depressed and then I kill myself.

Best Case Scenario: I’m totally freaking awesome and I don’t forget any of my lines and then my teacher Kelby says that a college called her and offered me a full-ride scholarship and then in a few years, I go to the college and I’m absolutely awesome and I have a boyfriend who invents a jetpack and then woohoo! Jetpack! And I fly into the sky on my jetpack and then I write an awesome book and also I’m a really awesome actress, and then yeah.

Probably what will happen: I might forget one or two of my lines, but it’s okay because all the lines I have are lines I say with other people, so no one will notice, and I might trip and fall, but it would probably be funny, ’cause one time my friend Rhea was in a play and she bowed and her wig fell off and it was hilarious and after the play was over, she was all, “Oh my God, did you see that? That wasn’t supposed to happen.” Only it totally looked like it was supposed to happen because the play was funny anyway and it totally looked awesome. So maybe I fall, but it would be funny, and then I finish the play and get all happy and glowy on the inside and there are group hugs all around and yaaaaaay!

After I play Best Case/Worst Case, I realize that I don’t even want the best case one to happen, because I’d rather have the life I have than have a genius jetpacking boyfriend. I suppose the moral should be “Be happy the way you are,” but really it’s “At least you’re not responsible for the Zombie Holocaust.” Or maybe it’s both. According to An Abundance of Katherines, it’s fine to have two morals in a story, so yes. Be happy the way you are and you could always be responsible for the Zombie Holocaust.

Awesome: Thea created a new blog, which you can find at msinsanity.wordpress.com. She’s still editing the layout and stuff, but you should check it out ’cause she rules.

Unawesome: The number of run-on sentences in this post. C’est la vie.


Tired and Pantsless and Dancing April 25, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — bookwormdaisy @ 11:27 pm
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Oh hey! I know, I know, I completely forgot to blog yesterday. Sorry. I guess this isn’t technically Blog Every Day in April anymore, but I will try to blog every day in April from now on.

I just finished reading a book called Spacer and Rat by Margaret Bechard, and I totally recommend it. Super duper awesome.

So today, I went over to Thea’s house for brunch ’cause her mom, Kim, is awesome and likes cooking and parties and stuff, and it was pretty fun! My friends Lila and Meredith were there, along with their friend Baylee (yeah, that’s actually the spelling) who was very nice. We played Hide and Seek a little bit (yrsh. Don’t judge) and then we played Truth or Dare because we’re twelve-year-old girls and that’s what we do. I really should’ve learned by now that bad things happen whenever I play that, but whatever. I still had really fun, despite the fact that they made Thea and I take off our pants and Michael-Jackson-dance in the middle of the street. Um. Yes. I actually did do that.

Okay, so I’m lazy and tired and I’ve been staring at this page for like, an hour, so adios for now! And now, here is Nemo with your awesome/unawesome.

Awesome: The Buddha.

Unawesome: McDonald’s Hamburgers. (I’ve actually never had one, but this is Nemo’s choice for today, as is the Awesome.)


I am neurotic, but at least I get in singing practice. April 23, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — bookwormdaisy @ 10:14 pm
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Oh hey!

I believe I’ve previously mentioned the horrors of the bathroom at Nemo’s office building. However, I’ve never gone into the full terror of simply having to pee.

First, I must come to terms that I really really need to go the the bathroom. This is a burden in and of itself, being as I generally dislike visiting this particular bathroom. After I decide I need to pee, I tell Nemo I’m going to be in his evil bathroom. The ulterior motive for this is so he doesn’t think I ran away or something, but mostly it’s because if I get eaten by zombies I want someone to find my body.

I then put on my shoes if they aren’t on already (I don’t really like shoes, but bathrooms are generally filthy), and make the trek out of his room and down the office, past the main receptionist desk, and out the door.

Nemo’s company’s office is one of many in a large building, but fortunately, their office is close to the women’s bathroom. So I walk to the bathroom and tentatively open the door. Once I’ve made sure there are no robots/zombies/serial killers/Death Eaters/Cylons in any of the stalls, I go in the second stall from the right. I don’t know why I always go in this one, but I do.

I lock the door and sit down on the toilet. Well, I mean, I pull down my pants and stuff, but let’s not get into the details. I then proceed to pee, hoping against hope the demon toilet won’t automatically flush while I’m still sitting on it.

Lately, I’ve started singing while I pee in that particular bathroom because it makes the whole place seem a lot less scary. You might think that I’d be worried someone would walk in while I was singing a robot love song, but no one ever uses the bathroom. Despite the large number of women in the entire building, I hardly ever see anyone in there, which is partly what makes is so creepy. Why am I the only one ever in there? It’s one of the mysteries of life, I’m pretty sure.

So I finish peeing, pull up my pants, and almost have an an aneurysm when the demon toilet auto-flushes. It makes this creepy whirring, screaming, whooshing noise right before it flushes, which always makes it sound like some sort of robot axe-murdering assassin is jumping over the side of the stall to murder me. I get over my heart attack and shakily open the door. I glance around to secure my safety and bolt over to the sink. I end up kind of wedged by the wall, because I don’t want to turn my back on the openness of the bathroom. I mean, of course there’s a mirror, but you can’t see vampires in the mirror. Yeah.

I then, back against the wall, wash my hands in the automatic sink and get a squirt of automatically dispensing soap. The auto-soap dispenser makes a freaky noise at the back of the bathroom by the toilets, which logically leads me to believe a basilisk is coming out of the toilet. I turn around, back still to the wall, and contort myself to get a towel from the automatic frakking paper towel dispenser. Chances are you’ve encountered one of these, and you’ll know that they make pretty scary noises too. I towel off my hands quickly and edge my way over to the door, still singing.

I use the old paper towels to open the door, because seriously? Do you know all the freaking germs that are on those handles? I prop the door up with my butt and try to toss the paper towels into the trash can. I usually miss, which means that I have to go pick them up and put them in the trash can, which solves the littering problem but doesn’t help the germ problem.

By now, I’m so freaked out that I just open the door with my bare hands and freaking sprint back to the office in case any invisible zombies followed me. Usually, this is the end of my adventure, but today I got locked out of the office, which means that I have to pound on the heavy wooden door and yell desperately until some savior comes and lets me into the office, because I’ve forgotten the password for the weird alarm thingy again, although I’m pretty sure it has a five and a three in it.

I get rescued and learn that the code doesn’t have a three in it, and then I blog about it.

Awesome: Not getting eaten by bathroom monsters!

Unawesome: Sorry for any spelling/grammar errors, I’m in a hurry and I don’t have any time to look over this post.