S'true. I have finally found a way to brutally bash in the forces of my hair. Das right. I can now making a spiffing good halfpony that my mom despises but that i think looks good. I was a little self-concious of this walking to shul today with yonina, so i asked her about it.
Me: Yonina, is it better to have everyone but you like your hair, or that you like your hair, but no one else does?
Yonina:...hmmm...that's pretty tough...
Me: (surprised she understood the question) so what do you think?
Yonina: Well, let's look at it this way iguana. Why don't you pull down your hood, and if I say your hair is good, it's probably good.
Me: pulls down hood. So what do you think?
Yonina: it's not ugly.
Me:...well...what does that mean?
Yonina: Well there are two kinds of hairstyles. There's really good, and ugly.
Me: so no in-between?
Yonina: well in-between would be 'okay'.
Me; so is my hair 'okay'?
Yonina: it's not ugly.
Shaken by these words of wisdom spouted by my 8 year old sister, i continued into teh shul. Davening went off without a hitch, cept there was this really inconciderate person davening next to me who didn't feel like davening silently like the rest of the planet. So, instead of focusing on my heavenly prayers, i contented myself by listening to her practically yell in my ear. Trust me, when you're in a huge room, and it's musaf, so no on'es talking, and the person next to you won't daven to themselves, it's pretty loud.
Anyway, that afternoon we had company, so i got out pretty late. I got invited by my frend to go to b'not that shabbat, so i decided to deck it out. When I got there, they were having some kind of sermen about tziniut, which didn't surprise me. In fact, i spent the whole sermon focusing on the fact that i desperately needed a tissue. But ya know, the counselor was really going at it, so I didn't want to interupt. After that we played simon says. So I pretty much know this ain't gonna be a worthwhile investment. My frends assured me that they didn't play simon says every shabbat, but seriously, that was my reason for not going. It's and 8g b'not, what the heck else are they supposed to do? I mean, that's what the little kids do, right?
Anways, after that, me and two frends rounded out to another frend's house to play apples-to apples (or wahtever) then shared embarresing medical stories. Then I went home. Played space quest with Rafs...yeah...
I'm going to miami on monday peeps. I'll post some pictures. I'm bringing this laptop with.
OH I ALMOST FORGOT!!!!
My dad or someone, i really don't know i wasn't there when it happeened, bought the sq series with VOICES!!!!! FINALLY!!! I HAD GIVEN UP HOPE!!!!!!!!! I WILL NEVER HAVE TO READ TONGUE-TWISTERS TO YONINA WHILE PLAYING EVER AGAAAAAAAAIN!!!
Plus, I won't have to read stuff like this; try it, it's not easy:
"From inside the elevator, you can't touch the inlay outlay relay array. You can't even SAY inlay outlay relay array."
going to go watch her bro play modern warfare 2,
iguana W_W (i'm wearing my glasses, those are them pretend)
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Happy late new years
and I have a naseau (?) in my stomach.
Yes, it's been a while since I've written. I'm aware my absence has arroused some panic in some of my many followers (pronounced: 'and she had many followers'-Mass Effect), but I am here with a calming message for you all:
DON'T PANIC.
Anyways, back to my action-movie-drama life. I realize now it's 2010. That means I'm 14 now. (my birfday's july 8th, but you get wut i'm sayin). I'M OOOOOOLD!!! I'M GONNA BE A FRESHMAN THIS YEAR!!! I bet all you college types are so proud of me. I'm entering the prime of my life. I recognize this for one reason, mainly. So gamble round the campfire children, I shall tell you a story.
I was leafing through da bookshelf friday night. The boys had just gone to shul, and now I had something of two hours to dwindle away. My mom and bro had thoughtlessly gone to the liberry wifout me, so I had no good books to pore over. So, I scanned the bookshelves for anything that I hadn't already reread several million times, and I paused. I found a book I didn't recognize, so I pulled it out. It turned out to be a photo album. I opened it up and found something mindboggling, but before I get into that I have to tell you the conclusion of the story so you don't have to wonder the whole time and get distracted. Yes, I found a book to read eventually. It was a reread. If I didn't tell you that, there's a chance you would wonder as I told you of my historical find; "Did she ever find anything to read?!".
Back to my historical find. I opened the photo album and found a family portrait labeled in neat blue pen on the bottom: 'Skier family, 1907'. The picture was of a small Russian family, a mother, father, and some boys. The picture was yellowed and frayed at the edges, but other than that it was in incredibly good condition. I could see the faces clearly, and I wondered for a while how these people who shared my name lived over a hundred years ago. I flipped the page. Then the real shock came. There was a beautiful picture of a young woman, labeled 'EDITH SKIER, AGE 13, GRADUATION'. She was wearing a (I think) silky, short sleeved dress, and she held a boquet of flowers. She had short, wavy styled hair (i think that was popular in the 20s), and she was smiling wonderfully (better than I ever could, and I should know). I am nearly 110 percent sure that was her 8th grade graduation, which I am about to experience in June. All that shabbat, I couldn't stop thinking about that picture. She was my age, and graduating, right? We have the same name, but I don't know anything about her. What did she do for fun? What did she eat? Was she popular? Did she enjoying writing, or did she talk a lot? Did she even have my color hair? This was a picture of her as she was entering high school, which I think is one of the most important times in a person's life. It defines who you are going to be when you grow up, and when you leave, it's finally time to start your life as an adult.
With all the technology we have now, it's easy for me to record my teenage years, but think of all those other teenagers living in the 1900s, when life was much different. How much do we know about them? They're all grampas and great grampas, great aunts and uncles, not vibrant young people on their way to complain about school. Or maybe they didn't complain about school, because they saw it as a priveledge instead of a chore. I don't know.
I guess that's the end of the story, children. So now you know. The secret sorcret has been revoiled. Think about that as you walk out the door. And make sure you close it tightly, otherwise the draft gets in, you know.
off to go depress,
iguana o_o
ps, kovs, thanks for signing up.
Yes, it's been a while since I've written. I'm aware my absence has arroused some panic in some of my many followers (pronounced: 'and she had many followers'-Mass Effect), but I am here with a calming message for you all:
DON'T PANIC.
Anyways, back to my action-movie-drama life. I realize now it's 2010. That means I'm 14 now. (my birfday's july 8th, but you get wut i'm sayin). I'M OOOOOOLD!!! I'M GONNA BE A FRESHMAN THIS YEAR!!! I bet all you college types are so proud of me. I'm entering the prime of my life. I recognize this for one reason, mainly. So gamble round the campfire children, I shall tell you a story.
I was leafing through da bookshelf friday night. The boys had just gone to shul, and now I had something of two hours to dwindle away. My mom and bro had thoughtlessly gone to the liberry wifout me, so I had no good books to pore over. So, I scanned the bookshelves for anything that I hadn't already reread several million times, and I paused. I found a book I didn't recognize, so I pulled it out. It turned out to be a photo album. I opened it up and found something mindboggling, but before I get into that I have to tell you the conclusion of the story so you don't have to wonder the whole time and get distracted. Yes, I found a book to read eventually. It was a reread. If I didn't tell you that, there's a chance you would wonder as I told you of my historical find; "Did she ever find anything to read?!".
Back to my historical find. I opened the photo album and found a family portrait labeled in neat blue pen on the bottom: 'Skier family, 1907'. The picture was of a small Russian family, a mother, father, and some boys. The picture was yellowed and frayed at the edges, but other than that it was in incredibly good condition. I could see the faces clearly, and I wondered for a while how these people who shared my name lived over a hundred years ago. I flipped the page. Then the real shock came. There was a beautiful picture of a young woman, labeled 'EDITH SKIER, AGE 13, GRADUATION'. She was wearing a (I think) silky, short sleeved dress, and she held a boquet of flowers. She had short, wavy styled hair (i think that was popular in the 20s), and she was smiling wonderfully (better than I ever could, and I should know). I am nearly 110 percent sure that was her 8th grade graduation, which I am about to experience in June. All that shabbat, I couldn't stop thinking about that picture. She was my age, and graduating, right? We have the same name, but I don't know anything about her. What did she do for fun? What did she eat? Was she popular? Did she enjoying writing, or did she talk a lot? Did she even have my color hair? This was a picture of her as she was entering high school, which I think is one of the most important times in a person's life. It defines who you are going to be when you grow up, and when you leave, it's finally time to start your life as an adult.
With all the technology we have now, it's easy for me to record my teenage years, but think of all those other teenagers living in the 1900s, when life was much different. How much do we know about them? They're all grampas and great grampas, great aunts and uncles, not vibrant young people on their way to complain about school. Or maybe they didn't complain about school, because they saw it as a priveledge instead of a chore. I don't know.
I guess that's the end of the story, children. So now you know. The secret sorcret has been revoiled. Think about that as you walk out the door. And make sure you close it tightly, otherwise the draft gets in, you know.
off to go depress,
iguana o_o
ps, kovs, thanks for signing up.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
I survived the fast
I know you were worried. Got nothing to report except I a) finished my dvar toRAH b) my sim family now has 6 kids and c) I watched an episode of animated star trek with my dad last night that featured a piece of paper on the back of Capitan Kirk's shirt reading 'Kirk is a jerk'.
Good tidings citizens.
Going to manage her sims household now,
iguana >_>
Good tidings citizens.
Going to manage her sims household now,
iguana >_>
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Happy fast times, peeps.
Everybody having a good Asarah bih'Tevet (hahaha Rafi haha) ?
Well, I'm not.
I'm not surprised. In every fast I ever have the good grace to partake in, I get a killer migraine. And I'm not talking about those sissy headaches where people are all like 'take a Tylenol and you'll be FINE', I'm talking boot those ones that make you want to either 1) curl up in a ball, 2) make you want to hit your head on a brick wall, 3) kill yourself (possibly by hitting your head on a brick wall) and 4) all of the above. This, ladies and gentleman, I get from....say it with me...
DE-HY-DRA-SHUN!!!!
Yes, the crowds go wild! I'll bet I'm not the only one out there who gets completely moidered by this lack of water every fast! But none of you frummies have blogs, so whateves, ya?
So it's like 10:32 AM. I'm bored. It's just me and the yoninsters here and we're gonna go crazy. And I'll probably eat her at some point, too. I think I'ma animate s'more now. I told my cousin in Israel I was, so I'll be getting back to that now.
PS- twilight song is going strong, on last page.
So long peeps. Try not to die too much.
-boredly, iguana (
Well, I'm not.
I'm not surprised. In every fast I ever have the good grace to partake in, I get a killer migraine. And I'm not talking about those sissy headaches where people are all like 'take a Tylenol and you'll be FINE', I'm talking boot those ones that make you want to either 1) curl up in a ball, 2) make you want to hit your head on a brick wall, 3) kill yourself (possibly by hitting your head on a brick wall) and 4) all of the above. This, ladies and gentleman, I get from....say it with me...
DE-HY-DRA-SHUN!!!!
Yes, the crowds go wild! I'll bet I'm not the only one out there who gets completely moidered by this lack of water every fast! But none of you frummies have blogs, so whateves, ya?
So it's like 10:32 AM. I'm bored. It's just me and the yoninsters here and we're gonna go crazy. And I'll probably eat her at some point, too. I think I'ma animate s'more now. I told my cousin in Israel I was, so I'll be getting back to that now.
PS- twilight song is going strong, on last page.
So long peeps. Try not to die too much.
-boredly, iguana (
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Reaching for the coffee, dropping the donut
So here's what I need to/am working on for this week:
-research research report due in a month (for every day of school I come without research I get points deducted from my grade. Don't ask)
-write sock puppet play (for a class)
-ace some tests
-do some grueling homework
-clean my laptop
-learn to play 'River Flows in You' from Twilight for my mom.
I think that's it. Now of course all you college types are like 'WHUT? THAT'S IT? AND YOU THINK YOU'VE GOT PROBLEMS!'
Well. I do.
But before that, I need to go over my stunning adventure that cheppened this shabbat. Please; bear with me. Due to the request of a friend, I will write personal narative style, of all I remember. Okay, and a one-two go now
The warmth of the house rushed onto whatever part of my face was not covered as I trudged inside, bringing a nice portion of the landscape with me.
"Boy I am cold, sleepy, and also hungry," I muttered to myself becuz I do this. I yanked off my purple hat and threw it on the couch. Then I carefully began unwinding my purple scarf, and folded it neatly beside my hat. I unzipped my coat, hung it up on the tree, then proceeded to unbutton the sweater I had on underneath. I then pulled off my boots, and attemped to stand them up in the shoe row, but after they had flopped over enough times, I gave up. I now stood in the frozen tundra of the front hallway of our house, wearing a green flowered shabbat robe, some socks, and a green pair of glasses.
"Boy I am sleepy and also hungry," I repeated to myself so I shouldn't forget. I dragged myself into the kitchen and decided on what to eat. I glanced at the clock, and it read 2:35. I had just come back from dropping Yonina off at a playgroup, and now I had an hour (somewhat) of IGUANA time. But iguana was hungry, so she had to make herself a parve snack. But I was cold also, and I thought to myself:
"Hey, why don't I make some oatmeal?"
The original packets are parve, so after a fair bit of rummaging in the pantry, I triumphantly pulled out a dull-blue paper packet of oh'tmeel. I crossed the room to our bowl cabinet, pulled out a small glass dish, tore the packet (on a place with NO WORDS OR PICTURES) and poured the dusty stuff into the dish. I took the dish to our hot water kettle and tipped some of the boiling liquid into the mixture, giving it a soupy look. A horrible smell of rubber and the inside of a macy's filled with kitchen.
"Aw (insert bad word here), this here oh'tmeels got no flavoring!"
It was true. So, setting the foul smelling dish on the table, I decided I would have to flavor the oatmeal myself. But how exactly do you flavor an oatmeal? Honey! I exited the kitchen to our other pantry, and yanked out a half-empty bottle of honey. I took this back to the table, and squeezed a nice dollop of the stuff onto the brown goop. Now it looked like brown goop with some glue on top! I frowned.
"Maybe it will look better after some stirring," I reasoned with myself as the smell of macy's with some honey on it wafted into my nostrils. However, after tasting a spoonful, I saw that not much had improved. 'perhaps I should add sugar,' I thought. So, I turned to the stove and grabbed the tall sugar-shaker we usually use for grapefruit. But when I tried to sprinkle some onto my oatmeal, I slipped a bit, and the glass jerked forward. In a somersault of what can only be described as the best karate kung fu ever performed by sugar-shakers, the small glass did a 180 flip right over my oatmeal, emptying nearly half its contents onto my food before slamming on the other side of the table with a large CLACK. I glanced at the oatmeal. It now had a nice sized mound of sugar on it, dissolving fast. Since I had just had my braces tightened to ultra tight and my teeth were probably most vulnerable, I began to have second thoughts about eating this contraption. But we had a problem- I was still hungry. I stirred in the sugar and took another hearty bite. I chewed thoughtfully. I swallowed.
"Hmm," I said, "grainy, with a touch of burned rubber."
Something was missing. My oatmeal still did not taste like oatmeal. It tasted more like the mall. I have not personally tasted a mall, mind you, I mean it tastes like the way the mall smells (confused yet?). Brown sugar! Those oatmeal packets always have something about brown sugar on the front!
Opening my mom's baking cabinet, I pulled out a full bag of pre-opened brown sugar. I carefully undid the twister at the top, taking note on how to redo it when I was done. I tipped the bag over the dish of oatmeal. Nothing came out. Now ever I know how this goes- tip it too far and ALL the stuff comes out, and my mom would be mad. To avoid that scenario, I crumpled a bit of the sugar closest to the edge and ,pinching the bag carefully, a perfect sized lump of brown sugar plopped onto my mixture. I stirred it in, and the oatmeal grew to a toasty golden color. It finally looked like oatmeal! I hoped this would be the right one...I sealed the brown sugar and put it away in the cabinet, then sat down to my snack. I glanced at the clock. 2:49.
I took a big spoonful. Hmmm...
"Nope, now it just tastes like someone who works at cinnabon just walked into the Macy's."
Well, you can't always win. I bravely gulped down the rest of my cold oatmeal, and went back to the living room to enjoy my last ten minutes of iguana time.
This has been an iguana-flashbacks production. You may now return from the edge of your seats. We hope you enjoyed it, and have a pleasant day.
Also, you look like you could use this fish...(SQ6)
-research research report due in a month (for every day of school I come without research I get points deducted from my grade. Don't ask)
-write sock puppet play (for a class)
-ace some tests
-do some grueling homework
-clean my laptop
-learn to play 'River Flows in You' from Twilight for my mom.
I think that's it. Now of course all you college types are like 'WHUT? THAT'S IT? AND YOU THINK YOU'VE GOT PROBLEMS!'
Well. I do.
But before that, I need to go over my stunning adventure that cheppened this shabbat. Please; bear with me. Due to the request of a friend, I will write personal narative style, of all I remember. Okay, and a one-two go now
The warmth of the house rushed onto whatever part of my face was not covered as I trudged inside, bringing a nice portion of the landscape with me.
"Boy I am cold, sleepy, and also hungry," I muttered to myself becuz I do this. I yanked off my purple hat and threw it on the couch. Then I carefully began unwinding my purple scarf, and folded it neatly beside my hat. I unzipped my coat, hung it up on the tree, then proceeded to unbutton the sweater I had on underneath. I then pulled off my boots, and attemped to stand them up in the shoe row, but after they had flopped over enough times, I gave up. I now stood in the frozen tundra of the front hallway of our house, wearing a green flowered shabbat robe, some socks, and a green pair of glasses.
"Boy I am sleepy and also hungry," I repeated to myself so I shouldn't forget. I dragged myself into the kitchen and decided on what to eat. I glanced at the clock, and it read 2:35. I had just come back from dropping Yonina off at a playgroup, and now I had an hour (somewhat) of IGUANA time. But iguana was hungry, so she had to make herself a parve snack. But I was cold also, and I thought to myself:
"Hey, why don't I make some oatmeal?"
The original packets are parve, so after a fair bit of rummaging in the pantry, I triumphantly pulled out a dull-blue paper packet of oh'tmeel. I crossed the room to our bowl cabinet, pulled out a small glass dish, tore the packet (on a place with NO WORDS OR PICTURES) and poured the dusty stuff into the dish. I took the dish to our hot water kettle and tipped some of the boiling liquid into the mixture, giving it a soupy look. A horrible smell of rubber and the inside of a macy's filled with kitchen.
"Aw (insert bad word here), this here oh'tmeels got no flavoring!"
It was true. So, setting the foul smelling dish on the table, I decided I would have to flavor the oatmeal myself. But how exactly do you flavor an oatmeal? Honey! I exited the kitchen to our other pantry, and yanked out a half-empty bottle of honey. I took this back to the table, and squeezed a nice dollop of the stuff onto the brown goop. Now it looked like brown goop with some glue on top! I frowned.
"Maybe it will look better after some stirring," I reasoned with myself as the smell of macy's with some honey on it wafted into my nostrils. However, after tasting a spoonful, I saw that not much had improved. 'perhaps I should add sugar,' I thought. So, I turned to the stove and grabbed the tall sugar-shaker we usually use for grapefruit. But when I tried to sprinkle some onto my oatmeal, I slipped a bit, and the glass jerked forward. In a somersault of what can only be described as the best karate kung fu ever performed by sugar-shakers, the small glass did a 180 flip right over my oatmeal, emptying nearly half its contents onto my food before slamming on the other side of the table with a large CLACK. I glanced at the oatmeal. It now had a nice sized mound of sugar on it, dissolving fast. Since I had just had my braces tightened to ultra tight and my teeth were probably most vulnerable, I began to have second thoughts about eating this contraption. But we had a problem- I was still hungry. I stirred in the sugar and took another hearty bite. I chewed thoughtfully. I swallowed.
"Hmm," I said, "grainy, with a touch of burned rubber."
Something was missing. My oatmeal still did not taste like oatmeal. It tasted more like the mall. I have not personally tasted a mall, mind you, I mean it tastes like the way the mall smells (confused yet?). Brown sugar! Those oatmeal packets always have something about brown sugar on the front!
Opening my mom's baking cabinet, I pulled out a full bag of pre-opened brown sugar. I carefully undid the twister at the top, taking note on how to redo it when I was done. I tipped the bag over the dish of oatmeal. Nothing came out. Now ever I know how this goes- tip it too far and ALL the stuff comes out, and my mom would be mad. To avoid that scenario, I crumpled a bit of the sugar closest to the edge and ,pinching the bag carefully, a perfect sized lump of brown sugar plopped onto my mixture. I stirred it in, and the oatmeal grew to a toasty golden color. It finally looked like oatmeal! I hoped this would be the right one...I sealed the brown sugar and put it away in the cabinet, then sat down to my snack. I glanced at the clock. 2:49.
I took a big spoonful. Hmmm...
"Nope, now it just tastes like someone who works at cinnabon just walked into the Macy's."
Well, you can't always win. I bravely gulped down the rest of my cold oatmeal, and went back to the living room to enjoy my last ten minutes of iguana time.
This has been an iguana-flashbacks production. You may now return from the edge of your seats. We hope you enjoyed it, and have a pleasant day.
Also, you look like you could use this fish...(SQ6)
Monday, December 14, 2009
Headache of the century...
Listening to wacky but good song about zombie co-workers...ahh....
Happy Chanukah guys. Guess it's been a while since I wrote, but I've been enjoying my vacation too much to care.
Not much has happened in the last few games except my bro and I have been staying up till one in the morning playing mindless video games like mass effect, left 4 dead 2, and Final Fantasy. Yeah, it's been pretty good. I still have a headache, and in a while I'm going to subject myself to my fathers 70s star trek cartoons. It's a good life. Even though I have a headache, like the kind that just make you want to fall over, close your eyes, and just NOT move a muscle. I'm still deciding about that one...
School starts again tomorrow. The reason i look forward to that is: more free time to work on my comic book.
Oh yeah, I left you guys hanging on the jewish home issue. I did alright at the concert, only messed up twice, and it wasn't so bad. I'm not sure why I was nervous. I don't like messing up, I like playing for fun, and that's what it turned out to be. I, in my nervousness, thought people were actually going to be quiet while I played. And thank G-d they were not. The whole time I played, everyone in the room was talking to somebody else, so not even I could here the piano that well. And if they hadn't been doing that, the experience would not have been enjoyable at all. When people all around me are talking while I play piano, I feel at home (ie, i play at school, and people are always talking there). I feel like I'm at home (plus good piano) just playing for fun. Although the song was not one that I enjoyed playing as much as others, it was still pretty okay.
My mom said I might go back to Israel this summer. It was a very big MIGHT, it was just like 'well we could send you back this summer', although that kind of might is what got me there in the first place. I would LOVE it, I really would! I would do ANYTHING to get back in Israel (they test your resolve on the plane over. They do everything (in)humanely possible to make you uncomfortable, including asking you if there is anything they can do to MAKE you comfortable, which they can't)! But I'd want to clear up with my cuz first, becuz she might actually be coming here! That would be just as exciting! So, as you can see, the future is questionable.
I think that's about it for now...I've got to go...headache...
sleepily,
iguana U_U
Happy Chanukah guys. Guess it's been a while since I wrote, but I've been enjoying my vacation too much to care.
Not much has happened in the last few games except my bro and I have been staying up till one in the morning playing mindless video games like mass effect, left 4 dead 2, and Final Fantasy. Yeah, it's been pretty good. I still have a headache, and in a while I'm going to subject myself to my fathers 70s star trek cartoons. It's a good life. Even though I have a headache, like the kind that just make you want to fall over, close your eyes, and just NOT move a muscle. I'm still deciding about that one...
School starts again tomorrow. The reason i look forward to that is: more free time to work on my comic book.
Oh yeah, I left you guys hanging on the jewish home issue. I did alright at the concert, only messed up twice, and it wasn't so bad. I'm not sure why I was nervous. I don't like messing up, I like playing for fun, and that's what it turned out to be. I, in my nervousness, thought people were actually going to be quiet while I played. And thank G-d they were not. The whole time I played, everyone in the room was talking to somebody else, so not even I could here the piano that well. And if they hadn't been doing that, the experience would not have been enjoyable at all. When people all around me are talking while I play piano, I feel at home (ie, i play at school, and people are always talking there). I feel like I'm at home (plus good piano) just playing for fun. Although the song was not one that I enjoyed playing as much as others, it was still pretty okay.
My mom said I might go back to Israel this summer. It was a very big MIGHT, it was just like 'well we could send you back this summer', although that kind of might is what got me there in the first place. I would LOVE it, I really would! I would do ANYTHING to get back in Israel (they test your resolve on the plane over. They do everything (in)humanely possible to make you uncomfortable, including asking you if there is anything they can do to MAKE you comfortable, which they can't)! But I'd want to clear up with my cuz first, becuz she might actually be coming here! That would be just as exciting! So, as you can see, the future is questionable.
I think that's about it for now...I've got to go...headache...
sleepily,
iguana U_U
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Make it dance! Make it prance!
So.
I am lih' playing in a concert at the jewish home this sunday wif my father. I am playing the piano. I am playing "Sunrise, Sunset" from The Fiddler On The Roof. Any questions so far?
Here's what comes to my attention: I have been working on this song for nearly two weeks now, and it still don't make sense to me. I don't know WHO adapted this thing, but whoever what was did NOT know exactly what he was doing. Mostly, he did, but there are DEFINITELY some parts that I could've adapted better. And that's what worries me. Those old folks out there? THEY KNOW THE WHOLE SONG INSIDE OUT! THEY'LL KNOW WHEN I MESS UP! All I can do is hope their hearing aids turn off for my performance. Oh yeah, I know. Now that I mentioned it in my blog, ya'll're gonna show up at the jewish home just teh watch me perform (natch).
Well I've got one thing to say to that!
"..."
Oh, as long as I'm at the halfway here, I should mention my friend Nechama. MENTION. MENTION. Happy now?
(explanation to all sane readers: She's been bugging me to do that for awhile. I don't question these things.)
What else has happened in my life, you ask? Well, I shall tell you. My hair has reached an all time low, to the point where it just poofs overnight, therefore saving me the time of messing it up myself. I have just taken a shower, so naturally now it looks soft, and yummy, and lovely, and looks perfect. But that's just all a clever ruse...you see, my hair is smarter than I am. It KNOWS that I'm going to go to sleep soon (since I take my showers at night, and DON'T suggest me to take them in the morning becuz I'll ignore you), so it PURPOSELY looks good. Because it knows I'm going to lie down on it when I go to sleep. And you know what that looks like in the morning? Like I'm wearing some statically electricuted ferret on my head, that's what. I dun like it.
So what should I do about, you ask?
"!"
And you'll read all about it in the papers tomorrow.
In other news...hmmmm...I'm replaying space quest 2 and i typed "swallow gem", and it said "you make me sick". No wait, that has nothing to do with this. I guess I got nothing else now. There'll be more when I feel like it.
Oh yeah, I'm going to Miami for winter break (in January).
Resorting to toothpicks to style her hair,
iguana >:\
I am lih' playing in a concert at the jewish home this sunday wif my father. I am playing the piano. I am playing "Sunrise, Sunset" from The Fiddler On The Roof. Any questions so far?
Here's what comes to my attention: I have been working on this song for nearly two weeks now, and it still don't make sense to me. I don't know WHO adapted this thing, but whoever what was did NOT know exactly what he was doing. Mostly, he did, but there are DEFINITELY some parts that I could've adapted better. And that's what worries me. Those old folks out there? THEY KNOW THE WHOLE SONG INSIDE OUT! THEY'LL KNOW WHEN I MESS UP! All I can do is hope their hearing aids turn off for my performance. Oh yeah, I know. Now that I mentioned it in my blog, ya'll're gonna show up at the jewish home just teh watch me perform (natch).
Well I've got one thing to say to that!
"..."
Oh, as long as I'm at the halfway here, I should mention my friend Nechama. MENTION. MENTION. Happy now?
(explanation to all sane readers: She's been bugging me to do that for awhile. I don't question these things.)
What else has happened in my life, you ask? Well, I shall tell you. My hair has reached an all time low, to the point where it just poofs overnight, therefore saving me the time of messing it up myself. I have just taken a shower, so naturally now it looks soft, and yummy, and lovely, and looks perfect. But that's just all a clever ruse...you see, my hair is smarter than I am. It KNOWS that I'm going to go to sleep soon (since I take my showers at night, and DON'T suggest me to take them in the morning becuz I'll ignore you), so it PURPOSELY looks good. Because it knows I'm going to lie down on it when I go to sleep. And you know what that looks like in the morning? Like I'm wearing some statically electricuted ferret on my head, that's what. I dun like it.
So what should I do about, you ask?
"!"
And you'll read all about it in the papers tomorrow.
In other news...hmmmm...I'm replaying space quest 2 and i typed "swallow gem", and it said "you make me sick". No wait, that has nothing to do with this. I guess I got nothing else now. There'll be more when I feel like it.
Oh yeah, I'm going to Miami for winter break (in January).
Resorting to toothpicks to style her hair,
iguana >:\
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