Random Thoughts During Math Class

(As written by me earlier today in math class, now being typed and spell-checked! Phew!)

-I've already learned something by just writing this title with my mechanical pencil. (Can you believe people still use these things? I remember when they first became popular. But they never compared to the Pog!) Anyway, what I learned is that writing in cursive is a lot easier when using a pen. Yeah, that's right, cursive. I try to practice it sometimes, don't judge! I just want to be accepted.

-I wish my math teacher was my grandpa. Not as in a replacement for my current grandpa (haha, that makes it sound like I go through them every week of so), but just, you know, another one. Its just that he is this little old man who, when you see him walking down the hall, looks at his shoes and his face has the expression that he just witnessed someone kick a puppy.
**whoa, I should have been paying attention just now. Whatever the crap he just wrote on the board makes no sense**
Back to the grandpa thing. I want him to be my grandpa so that it would not be inappropriate for me to give him a hug. He looks like he needs one. :(

-Oh my heck. This girl just asked how this applies to life. 1-could a question be any more cliche? 2-Come on woman, you are older than me and even I've learned that math doesn't apply to ANYTHING! **oh, word problem. I've got to pay attention now.**

-The story problem involves the word potassium. Did you know that if you take the T-A-I-U out of potassium, you get the word possum? This of course reminds me of the Simpsons episode Marge VS. The Monorail. "I call the big one Bitey." Classic.

-Wow, that was a crazy-A word problem. As I said, math doesn't apply to anything!

-Now we are taking a short break. While I sit here, let me ask you a question. Why are the ends of my hair so fuzzy? I looked at them very closely and I don't see a single split end, yet I look like I've stuck my finger in an electrical socket. I even flat ironed it this morning. I guess it's chopping time aye??

-Ugh! I can't believe I wrote and solved that whole problem and it's not even on the homework. Come on! That was an entire sheet of paper I just wasted.

-Problem: Bob is heading west at 50 mph. George is heading east at 70 mph. If they start at the same place, how long until they are 500 miles apart?
Answer: Not Applicable. George was pulled over and arrested for drug possession.

-Oh so much to do today. I have to get home and make refreshments for New Beginnings. Speaking of food, I am such a great cook. I would never presume to be as talented as Robi Porter, or even Bobby Flay, but I can fry some good chicken. I made chicken Alfredo last night, and fried chicken the night before. Both times the meal turned out deliciously superb! Although, chicken is the only meat I'm good at cooking. That and dessert. :)

-Problem: Melissa has two dogs, a cat, and three fish. If one of the dogs eats the cat, how many gallons of paint does Melissa need to paint her house?
Answer: She'll figure it out later. Right now she has to go bail George out of jail.

-So now I am in my British Lit class. Two things happened as I walked through the hallway. 1- I think I spotted the boy who was in my English class last semester. I refer to him as "the boy with beautiful eyebrows." I know, who in the world would be attracted to some one's eyebrows?! But I'm telling ya, every time he walked into class I just wanted to run my fingers over them! (oh my, TMI, I apologize. I should have put: Rated M for suggestive material in my post title.)
2-I saw this other boy who had hair longer, smoother, shinier and altogether better looking than mine. I was tempted to stop and ask for some styling and maintenance tips. Don't worry, I resisted the urge and kept on walking.

(That is all I wrote during my boredom at school. Now, on to current topics.)

I discovered Dark Chocolate Reese's Peanut Butter Cups today. They are amazing. "The darker the chocolate, the richer the taste," as my good friend Seaweed would say. (Ten points to the first person who can tell me what I'm referring to there.)

Ok, so my Betta is dead. I feel so bad you guys. I didn't mean to murder him. It just happened. You know, there are accidental murders all the time! Here is the story. A week ago I decided to put my beta in the same tank as my tiger barb. Not together though, I bought a tank divider (at least a makeshift one) to separate them. Most people think that bettas are really aggressive, but if you do your research, you will find that they are only aggressive towards other male bettas. Tiger barbs however, are nippers. They'll nip any fin that comes in their way. So this is why I used the divider. However, somehow the tiger barb kept getting to the other side. He never harmed the Betta, but I moved him back to his section anyway. Well, Sunday I left for church and I came home and started dinner (the aforementioned fried chicken) and Ken and Les suddenly came up to me and said: You killed your Betta.
I was like: WHAT THE EF????
So I went downstairs to find both fish on their separate sides of the tank, but my betta's fins were GONE!!! COMPLETELY TORN TO SHREDS!!! Oh my heck, I almost started to cry I was so distraught. And I didn't even like the fish that much, but it was still so sad! He just started to lay there on the gravel, struggling to breath. Ugh, my heart is breaking even thinking about it. So I went to my dad and told him the situation. He told me to flush the poor fish. I told him no, because the betta was not dead. But my dad "convinced" me that the betta would die faster if we flushed him. That way he wouldn't be in pain for long. (I still suspect he was just trying to make me feel better.) I couldn't do it though. I didn't want his blood on my hands!! So I told Pop to do it. So he did. Now my betta is dead....or else mutating in the sewer somewhere, growing into a super fish and planning my torture and demise. Either way I'm sleeping good tonight!

One last thing. The UVU salad bar has THE best honey mustard dressing I've ever tasted. Points to you UVU. Points to you.

For now, Peace!!

Always the Optimist (at least for the most part)

Here's a funny story: I tried to write a poem the other day. I try to write poems often, but they always suck. But my Script Writing professor told me that if I was serious about writing, I needed to be writing 5 pages per day. It doesn't matter what really, just so long as you keep your creative juices in a constant flow. I know, impossible right? Anyway, this particular poem I was trying to write was supposed to be sad and depressing. I don't know if you know this, but the only writing that ever means anything to anyone important (you know, the "man") is always about sad things, about struggles and turmoil and horrible crap like that. Earlier that evening, I heard some sad news that put me in a melancholy mood. When I feel melancholy, that's when I most feel like I may be able to write something intriguing. So I sat and began to write. I wrote about the sad things that Time brings, like death, and winter and so on. Then I ended it on a note that makes you say: Oh yeah, that's GOOD stuff right there. So I closed the book (p.s. thank you Ashley for the journal which is now my Doug's Book of Thoughts, Stories & Poetry) and went about doing other things, like cleaning my room. I kept thinking about what I wrote and after looking at a picture of my cute nephew (Thanks Lu for the calendar!), what I wrote started to bug me. "No, Dusty, it's fine. No one is ever going to read it anyway." I told myself. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. It wasn't finished. What was bothering me, was that I had made Time seem like the bad guy. But Time isn't the bad guy at all, so I had to write a whole other verse. Now I was talking about the wonderful things that Time brings, like Spring and babies. Then I did this cool thing where I took a phrase from the sad verse and wrote it again and it took on a whole other meaning! That's when I knew I was finished. :)
That's the thing though. I can never end things on a sad note. It bugs me too much. All my stories are happy. And that, my friends, is why I shall never become a famous writer. Because no one remembers the story when it's about flowers and butterflies and chocolate cake. They only remember the stories about the time those two people decided to kill themselves over what they thought was "love", or the man who slowly goes crazy and evil, or the little orphan boy who can't have a second helping.
But, always the optimist, I can't leave this blog post on a sad note. And telling myself I'm never going to be a great writer is definitely sad.
So I will end with this: There is hope for me to be a great and famous writer! I mean, eighty years from now when I'm dead and gone, someone will find my book of snippets and thoughts and they'll realize that I WAS amazing the whole time, but it just took a while for people to figure it out.
Hahahahahaha! Then I will laugh at the world from my grave!

Until next time! -Peace