Scary.
Ya, I didn't answer.
I'm giving myself seven days.
Showing posts with label random. Show all posts
Showing posts with label random. Show all posts
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
A Day at the Dentist
I'm tempted to swallow the Banana Split fluoride.
Every time.
I "accidentally" leave some in after using the air-sucking-machine.
Also.
Cruising Main Street should come back in style.
Every time.
I "accidentally" leave some in after using the air-sucking-machine.
Also.
Cruising Main Street should come back in style.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
"And I Present....
Most Likely To Be Eaten By A Whale....
To:
Shelby Frampton!"
WHAT?!
What?
Ya. I have no clue what that's supposed to mean.
At the Senior Dinner Dance last night, out of the 700 seniors at Lone Peak High School, the fifteen or so awards given, "Most Likely To Be Eaten By A Whale" just had to be one of them. And it had to be presented to me.
Even though I am secretly happy just by the fact I got any sort of award at all, I'm still in confusion.
One explanation I received:
"Whales eat seals. They must mean you look like a seal."
Another:
"Maybe it's because you are lying and deceitful and don't follow God's will like Jonah. He was eaten by a whale."
(Ouch)
And a third:
"It's cause you always have such CRAZY stories to tell to people!"
I think I will go with the latter. What do you think?
Then I got slightly worried. Since, you know, it was supposed to be the end of the world tomorrow. Maybe it wasn't the end of the entire world. But it could have been the end of MY world. Eaten by a whale?! Yes. I probably would have died. And that would have the end of me. The end of my blog too. So be grateful. Although, being eaten by a whale would be a sweet death story...
No worries. I survived.
So did everyone else.
Sorry if you wasted money of outlandish things or got injured doing something crazy before "the end of the world". But good for those who repented! Don't procrastinate!
I'm alive.
Confused.
Mildy pleased.
And REALLY hoping people don't think I look like a seal.
To:
Shelby Frampton!"
WHAT?!
What?
Ya. I have no clue what that's supposed to mean.
At the Senior Dinner Dance last night, out of the 700 seniors at Lone Peak High School, the fifteen or so awards given, "Most Likely To Be Eaten By A Whale" just had to be one of them. And it had to be presented to me.
Even though I am secretly happy just by the fact I got any sort of award at all, I'm still in confusion.
One explanation I received:
"Whales eat seals. They must mean you look like a seal."
Another:
"Maybe it's because you are lying and deceitful and don't follow God's will like Jonah. He was eaten by a whale."
(Ouch)
And a third:
"It's cause you always have such CRAZY stories to tell to people!"
I think I will go with the latter. What do you think?
Then I got slightly worried. Since, you know, it was supposed to be the end of the world tomorrow. Maybe it wasn't the end of the entire world. But it could have been the end of MY world. Eaten by a whale?! Yes. I probably would have died. And that would have the end of me. The end of my blog too. So be grateful. Although, being eaten by a whale would be a sweet death story...
No worries. I survived.
So did everyone else.
Sorry if you wasted money of outlandish things or got injured doing something crazy before "the end of the world". But good for those who repented! Don't procrastinate!
I'm alive.
Confused.
Mildy pleased.
And REALLY hoping people don't think I look like a seal.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
A Big Ball of String
Aw. Look at my adorable family.
This is Easter Sunday.
Every Easter we have this glorious tradition to find our Easter Egg Baskets.
Not your ordinary hide-and-seek for us. Oh no. We come upstairs to a house full of different colored YARN! Blue, green, yellow, orange, pink, red....you get the jist. All mixed and jumbled together so we can hardly walk. We all line up in the same spot and grab our end of the colored yarn assigned to us then race to roll up our yarn the fastest and find our Easter egg basket first. (I win every year, of course).
 |
| This is us at the start line. |
 |
| We're OFF |
 |
| I am on a roll. |
 |
| And TA-DU! I am FIRST to find my basket! |
What is a girl supposed to do with A MEGA BALL OF YARN?
Well...I considered just crocheting my own prom dress. What a novel idea?!
But...Alas! Prom is over.
So I had to figure something else to do.
Then I remembered this wonderful book from my childhood:
Have any of you read this book? Well goodie. Cause it's fantastic!
There's this boy who gets a little sick and uses his big ball of string to live his life entirely from his bed.
Oh, yes.
THIS is what I am going to do with my yarn:
And no worries, I've already got a good start.
But as I am attempting this new lifestyle, there are a few things I should let the public know:
1) If you come over to my house, don't be alarmed if the door opens to greet you and I'm not there. Just follow the yarn to my room if you need to speak to me.
2) I always enjoy new movies and books. It is after all my 8/12ths and 19 days birthday.
3) Food is also welcome. I particularly enjoy creamy broccoli soup from Kneaders.
4) I might not be at school for the next couple days. Goodbye AP reviewing!
5) There's a slight possibility that the cold in my head will be gone on weekends. So calling to play is acceptable.
Friday, March 18, 2011
A Quick Vocab Lesson
portmanteau word
a word composed of parts of two or more words, such as chortle from chuckle and snort and motel from motor and hotel. The term was first used by Lewis Carroll to describe many of the unusual words in his Through the Looking-Glass (1871), particularly in the poem "Jabberwocky."
eg. Prom + Drama = Prama.
prama
the worst. Something I will not miss when I go to college.
the worst. Something I will not miss when I go to college.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Sometimes I Wish I Were Spanish.
I took Spanish in Jr. High for a couple years. But never got very good and basically just enjoyed clever banter with the teacher and learned cheesy romantic phrases I could say to people.
My favorites:
Hay nadie mejor que tu para mi
Mi corazon esta con usted
Espero que pronto este con tigo mi pichon
Sin ti mi corazon espinado
Biselo espera que veo por el momento su cara otra vez
Nuestro amor conquista todas las
Hasta que nuestros caminos se cruzan una vez más mi amor
Digo que mi último adios, quierdo
Besame tonto
Look 'em up.
And yes, I have successfully used these phrases writing letters to my friend in Bolivia.
Whoever says French is the language of love--LIED. Spanish totally is.
I know this from personal experience.
Those Latin men.....they just love me for some reason.
Let me tell you a story.
Well.....two five.
1) Once upon a time I went to Saint George with my bestie for a weekend. We enjoyed reading of Elvis and swimming in the pool with her cousins. Very casual. Relaxed. Summer vacation.
As we enjoyed the warm air and sat on chairs talking to one another, a Latin family continued to pass us to and from the pool. We waved cordially each time they did. But I suppose they took this as an invitation to come and hang out with us for four hours. Ya, FOUR HOURS. Three Latin boys show up half an hour later on the grass hill in front of us and don't say anything. They just sit down and watch Hannah and I read (I didn't think it could be that entertaining, but who knows?!). So after a couple seconds we stop reading and give a friendly hi. Making conversation was a little hard since none of them spoke. When they did get a couple words out, we knew they could speak English and Spanish.
We asked them about their life. But....honestly I don't think they were that interested in talking. Just watching. So....We improvised. "Wanna play a card game?"
They did.
Anyway, the entire four hours we hung out with them they really hardly said anything. It's what happened afterward that was interesting.
Maggie and her friend (Thirteen year old cheerleaders. Use your imagination) came out as soon as they realized three boys were talking to Hannah and I. They exchanged numbers and after the boys went home texted them late into the night (Social life these days....Sheesh).
Hannah and I wake up in the morning to find that all three boys had a crush on us.
Oh crimony.
Ridiculous? Yes. They wanted to know where we lived so we could all hang out again. NO WAY. They were all under 16 anyway! I am no cougar (schoolwise--yes. Just not in that sense).
Apparently they thought we were beautiful and wonderful and smart and funny.
(I might have been flattered if I wasn't 3 years older than them).
2) Once upon another time, my brother was really good at soccer (still is for that matter). He had a couple boys on his team that were Latin. Fun, cute kids. (Notice the word kids). They came over for a birthday party. Hannah and I were hanging out in my room when three of them appeared downstairs. One whispers (I'm not sure if it was to himself or to us).
"Pretty ladies"
The other pointed to a picture.
"Is this you? Beautiful. Your eyes are so beautiful"
More compliments.
Something about Hannah being a romantic. The boys girlfriend back home. How they speak Spanish fluently.
We talk for a few moments. Then they leave. Their final words:
"dormir con la noche los ángeles"
(Sleep with the Angels tonight. Nice huh?)
3) Once upon a time I went to the gym (still do for that matter too). I went with my mom and dad and we decided to take a good round in the steam room. Finished with my workout a few minutes earlier than them, I went ahead without them. I got in my swimsuit and entered the steam filled room, sat across from a man (the steam room is super awkward because there's just a bunch of old men and nobody talks because you go to relax). As soon as I sit down, he stands up.
Huh?
He walks over and sticks out his hand.
Being the polite person I am, I shake it.
He pulls me up off the chair and gives me a HUGE HUG. This is not what I was asking for. And what's worse, a forest of hair is on his back.
Blek.
He pulls away and sits down RIGHT next to me. He starts asking me about Christmas and family, etc. Meanwhile, I take a good look at him.
He's in his late forties I'd say. Definitely older than my dad. Latin. Hairy. And lonely.
Ricardo's his name. Perfect.
He continues to inch closer to me and I feel slightly uncomfortable how he says he doesn't have family to spend Christmas with when....
My Dad walks in!
HALLELUJAH!!
I say (louder than normal. Which is loud. Because normally I am pretty loud) "Hey, DAD!".
The next ten minutes were spent in complete awkwardness as Ricardo jumps up with fright and slides ten feet away from me until he finally just leaves the steam room.
4) Once upon a time I went to a Latin Jazz dance at BYU and danced....Latina for a couple hours. This boy(I should say man) Lamoni wanted to take me out. Well...until he learned I was still a sophmore in high school.
5) Once upon a time a couple hours ago (this is where we get to today), I was at AF high for Region Solo/Ensemble festival, and what do you know?! I sang a Spanish song. BEAUTIFUL. Nana, by Manuel De Falla.
Listen: (and pretend it's me singing)
(Notice the fire burning in the background throughout the piece. Mmm.)
I was already in the Latin mood, when once again, a Latin boy hits on me outside of class.
I just don't know what it is with those guys.
But hey, they got guts. And a certain Latin spirit. I've always kind of wanted to dance around in a red and white dress with flowers in my hair and be all spicy and sing Spanish love songs.
But, alas, it is not so.
I think it's best if I keep away from those situations considering my history with Latin men.
Adios.
P.S. Today's my half-birthday! And you know what that means!!!! (I don't either....but it's fun anyway)
My favorites:
Hay nadie mejor que tu para mi
Mi corazon esta con usted
Espero que pronto este con tigo mi pichon
Sin ti mi corazon espinado
Biselo espera que veo por el momento su cara otra vez
Nuestro amor conquista todas las
Hasta que nuestros caminos se cruzan una vez más mi amor
Digo que mi último adios, quierdo
Besame tonto
Look 'em up.
And yes, I have successfully used these phrases writing letters to my friend in Bolivia.
Whoever says French is the language of love--LIED. Spanish totally is.
I know this from personal experience.
Those Latin men.....they just love me for some reason.
Let me tell you a story.
Well.....
1) Once upon a time I went to Saint George with my bestie for a weekend. We enjoyed reading of Elvis and swimming in the pool with her cousins. Very casual. Relaxed. Summer vacation.
As we enjoyed the warm air and sat on chairs talking to one another, a Latin family continued to pass us to and from the pool. We waved cordially each time they did. But I suppose they took this as an invitation to come and hang out with us for four hours. Ya, FOUR HOURS. Three Latin boys show up half an hour later on the grass hill in front of us and don't say anything. They just sit down and watch Hannah and I read (I didn't think it could be that entertaining, but who knows?!). So after a couple seconds we stop reading and give a friendly hi. Making conversation was a little hard since none of them spoke. When they did get a couple words out, we knew they could speak English and Spanish.
We asked them about their life. But....honestly I don't think they were that interested in talking. Just watching. So....We improvised. "Wanna play a card game?"
They did.
Anyway, the entire four hours we hung out with them they really hardly said anything. It's what happened afterward that was interesting.
Maggie and her friend (Thirteen year old cheerleaders. Use your imagination) came out as soon as they realized three boys were talking to Hannah and I. They exchanged numbers and after the boys went home texted them late into the night (Social life these days....Sheesh).
Hannah and I wake up in the morning to find that all three boys had a crush on us.
Oh crimony.
Ridiculous? Yes. They wanted to know where we lived so we could all hang out again. NO WAY. They were all under 16 anyway! I am no cougar (schoolwise--yes. Just not in that sense).
Apparently they thought we were beautiful and wonderful and smart and funny.
(I might have been flattered if I wasn't 3 years older than them).
2) Once upon another time, my brother was really good at soccer (still is for that matter). He had a couple boys on his team that were Latin. Fun, cute kids. (Notice the word kids). They came over for a birthday party. Hannah and I were hanging out in my room when three of them appeared downstairs. One whispers (I'm not sure if it was to himself or to us).
"Pretty ladies"
The other pointed to a picture.
"Is this you? Beautiful. Your eyes are so beautiful"
More compliments.
Something about Hannah being a romantic. The boys girlfriend back home. How they speak Spanish fluently.
We talk for a few moments. Then they leave. Their final words:
"dormir con la noche los ángeles"
(Sleep with the Angels tonight. Nice huh?)
3) Once upon a time I went to the gym (still do for that matter too). I went with my mom and dad and we decided to take a good round in the steam room. Finished with my workout a few minutes earlier than them, I went ahead without them. I got in my swimsuit and entered the steam filled room, sat across from a man (the steam room is super awkward because there's just a bunch of old men and nobody talks because you go to relax). As soon as I sit down, he stands up.
Huh?
He walks over and sticks out his hand.
Being the polite person I am, I shake it.
He pulls me up off the chair and gives me a HUGE HUG. This is not what I was asking for. And what's worse, a forest of hair is on his back.
Blek.
He pulls away and sits down RIGHT next to me. He starts asking me about Christmas and family, etc. Meanwhile, I take a good look at him.
He's in his late forties I'd say. Definitely older than my dad. Latin. Hairy. And lonely.
Ricardo's his name. Perfect.
He continues to inch closer to me and I feel slightly uncomfortable how he says he doesn't have family to spend Christmas with when....
My Dad walks in!
HALLELUJAH!!
I say (louder than normal. Which is loud. Because normally I am pretty loud) "Hey, DAD!".
The next ten minutes were spent in complete awkwardness as Ricardo jumps up with fright and slides ten feet away from me until he finally just leaves the steam room.
4) Once upon a time I went to a Latin Jazz dance at BYU and danced....Latina for a couple hours. This boy(I should say man) Lamoni wanted to take me out. Well...until he learned I was still a sophmore in high school.
5) Once upon a time a couple hours ago (this is where we get to today), I was at AF high for Region Solo/Ensemble festival, and what do you know?! I sang a Spanish song. BEAUTIFUL. Nana, by Manuel De Falla.
Listen: (and pretend it's me singing)
(Notice the fire burning in the background throughout the piece. Mmm.)
I was already in the Latin mood, when once again, a Latin boy hits on me outside of class.
I just don't know what it is with those guys.
But hey, they got guts. And a certain Latin spirit. I've always kind of wanted to dance around in a red and white dress with flowers in my hair and be all spicy and sing Spanish love songs.
But, alas, it is not so.
I think it's best if I keep away from those situations considering my history with Latin men.
Adios.
P.S. Today's my half-birthday! And you know what that means!!!! (I don't either....but it's fun anyway)
Sunday, January 30, 2011
If You Give a Shelby a "Satchel" (12)
Day 12: What's in your satchel.
Confession: I have no idea what this prompt means. Honestly, I'm not even sure what a satchel is. A purse? A bag? A box of some worth containing important items? That's the jist I have created in my head. But really...I just don't know. Items I like maybe? Like daisies and pillows and my bed and sun dresses and the piano. But I don't keep those in my "satchel"...maybe dandilions...
My attempt at Day 12:
If You Give A Shelby A "Satchel" By Shelby Frampton
If you give a Shelby a "Satchel"...
She will probably be reminded of purses.
When she thinks about purses she will remember that hers is big and white.
Her big and white purse will remind her of all the things she kept inside of it.
She kept checkbooks, and lipgloss, and cards, and games. Shelby loved her white purse.
As Shelby is reminded of these things Shelby will become sad. She will remember that her white purse was stolen.
She will remember last week when the cops called her and told her her checkbooks were stolen and they had a man in custody.
This will remind her of the Crime Investigation music they played while she was on hold.
The intense music will make her feel like she is in a movie and wants to be a detective. So she will dress up in a trenchcoat and get some walkie talkies.
But the sound of the walkie talkies remind her of the cops again.
Thinking about the cops she remembers last night how her friend got pulled over.
Shelby will become sad and not want to be a detective anymore.
Sometimes they are WRONG. And make Shelby walk the line and do drug tests because she has big pupils.
She remembers that she REALLY doesn't want to be a cop.
Shelby knows she wants to be a teacher. She gets excited and goes and practices singing and piano.
As she is singing she remembers she is going to New York with her choir in 24 days.
She gets SO excited and decides to paint the statue of liberty.
If Shelby starts painting she will definitely need some music to go with it.
She puts on Ingrid Michaelson.
As she is painting Shelby's mom comes downstairs and tells her she is going to the store.
Shelby's mom is holding a checkbook.
Her mom's checkbook reminds her of hers that were stolen.
As she rememebers her checkbooks she also remembers how she needs to write a blog post about a satchel and doesn't know what that is.
As Shelby thinks about her "Satchel" and the items it could possibly contain...
She is reminded of purses.
THE END.
Day 12: COMPLETED
Confession: I have no idea what this prompt means. Honestly, I'm not even sure what a satchel is. A purse? A bag? A box of some worth containing important items? That's the jist I have created in my head. But really...I just don't know. Items I like maybe? Like daisies and pillows and my bed and sun dresses and the piano. But I don't keep those in my "satchel"...maybe dandilions...
My attempt at Day 12:
If You Give A Shelby A "Satchel" By Shelby Frampton
If you give a Shelby a "Satchel"...
She will probably be reminded of purses.
When she thinks about purses she will remember that hers is big and white.
Her big and white purse will remind her of all the things she kept inside of it.
She kept checkbooks, and lipgloss, and cards, and games. Shelby loved her white purse.
As Shelby is reminded of these things Shelby will become sad. She will remember that her white purse was stolen.
She will remember last week when the cops called her and told her her checkbooks were stolen and they had a man in custody.
This will remind her of the Crime Investigation music they played while she was on hold.
The intense music will make her feel like she is in a movie and wants to be a detective. So she will dress up in a trenchcoat and get some walkie talkies.
But the sound of the walkie talkies remind her of the cops again.
Thinking about the cops she remembers last night how her friend got pulled over.
Shelby will become sad and not want to be a detective anymore.
Sometimes they are WRONG. And make Shelby walk the line and do drug tests because she has big pupils.
She remembers that she REALLY doesn't want to be a cop.
Shelby knows she wants to be a teacher. She gets excited and goes and practices singing and piano.
As she is singing she remembers she is going to New York with her choir in 24 days.
She gets SO excited and decides to paint the statue of liberty.
If Shelby starts painting she will definitely need some music to go with it.
She puts on Ingrid Michaelson.
As she is painting Shelby's mom comes downstairs and tells her she is going to the store.
Shelby's mom is holding a checkbook.
Her mom's checkbook reminds her of hers that were stolen.
As she rememebers her checkbooks she also remembers how she needs to write a blog post about a satchel and doesn't know what that is.
As Shelby thinks about her "Satchel" and the items it could possibly contain...
She is reminded of purses.
THE END.
Day 12: COMPLETED
Friday, December 31, 2010
WtYNmbOSDeflyNPtyNWaYyyyyNerehCionnhapsts
HAHAAAAAABLEHSIYYYAAIISTICAJKKK!!
This how I feel.
Or this:
Hmphhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaa....
It's one of those times where all the words in the english dictionary just don't do my feelings justice. I guess I could combine a few.
WHAT?! YES!!! No. Maybe? OK. Sure, why not? Definitely NOT. PARTY! No way. ALWAYS. Yes yes yes yes yes!!!!!! Never. Ehhhhhhhh. Confusion. Happiness. Distress.
And that turns into:
WtYNmbOSDeflyNPtyNWaYyyyyNerehCionnhapsts.
That's more like it.
This how I feel.
Or this:
Hmphhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaa....
It's one of those times where all the words in the english dictionary just don't do my feelings justice. I guess I could combine a few.
WHAT?! YES!!! No. Maybe? OK. Sure, why not? Definitely NOT. PARTY! No way. ALWAYS. Yes yes yes yes yes!!!!!! Never. Ehhhhhhhh. Confusion. Happiness. Distress.
And that turns into:
WtYNmbOSDeflyNPtyNWaYyyyyNerehCionnhapsts.
That's more like it.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
A Shelby Story
Once upon a time there was a beautiful baby girl. Born with moonlight on her golden hair she was the jewel of her parents' eyes. They placed the name Shelby Alyse Frampton upon her. Her childhood was spent in laughter. Skipping through flowery meadows and playing with her plethora of stuffed animals. She soon blossomed into a young lady. Some called her ordinary, others: strange. But she loved life. She loved her family. She loved her friends. She loved herself. And that's what really matters.
She also loved food.
Suddenly, a terrifying monster came and stole her away and locked her up in the tallest tower on the tallest mountain where she could never live the same again. This monster was called Unknown-hidden-hated-allergies. He was ugly. Big. HUMONGOUS. He stole away people's food so they could never eat and always be hungry. He starved children. Killed them even. All because of his jealousy that he didn't have parents and friends that loved him. But, he was especially jealous of Shelby. No one really knows why. And on one COMPLETELY RANDOM DAY he decided to pick on her worst of all. Worse than all the others he terrorized and tortured.
He took away her blood.
Made her pass out.
She went into a fit of hysterics.
She couldn't stop crying for hours.
She was traumatized.
She waited. And waited. And waited.
Finally: he came back.
Bringing her blood with him, he punished her with his all-grand-and-shocking punishment. She was allergic to Gluten, milk, and eggs.
Shelby cried in despair "How shall I eat!? There is nothing in this world made without gluten, milk, or eggs! I shall surely starve and die and Unknown-hidden-hated-allergies will have his wish!". But... Shelby was a strong girl. She was determined. She couldn't let the monster win!
So. For months and months she ate Gluten. She ate milk! She. Ate. EGGS! She struggled. She fought. And she did conquer. Until...
She discovered this disease runs in her family!
It attacks internal organs. It is dangerous.
The Unknown-hidden-hated-allergies won again. He wouldn't give up. He was a worthy opponent. He was so strong, so powerful, so EVIL...
That Shelby starved and died.
THE END
She also loved food.
Suddenly, a terrifying monster came and stole her away and locked her up in the tallest tower on the tallest mountain where she could never live the same again. This monster was called Unknown-hidden-hated-allergies. He was ugly. Big. HUMONGOUS. He stole away people's food so they could never eat and always be hungry. He starved children. Killed them even. All because of his jealousy that he didn't have parents and friends that loved him. But, he was especially jealous of Shelby. No one really knows why. And on one COMPLETELY RANDOM DAY he decided to pick on her worst of all. Worse than all the others he terrorized and tortured.
He took away her blood.
Made her pass out.
She went into a fit of hysterics.
She couldn't stop crying for hours.
She was traumatized.
She waited. And waited. And waited.
Finally: he came back.
Bringing her blood with him, he punished her with his all-grand-and-shocking punishment. She was allergic to Gluten, milk, and eggs.
Shelby cried in despair "How shall I eat!? There is nothing in this world made without gluten, milk, or eggs! I shall surely starve and die and Unknown-hidden-hated-allergies will have his wish!". But... Shelby was a strong girl. She was determined. She couldn't let the monster win!
So. For months and months she ate Gluten. She ate milk! She. Ate. EGGS! She struggled. She fought. And she did conquer. Until...
She discovered this disease runs in her family!
It attacks internal organs. It is dangerous.
The Unknown-hidden-hated-allergies won again. He wouldn't give up. He was a worthy opponent. He was so strong, so powerful, so EVIL...
That Shelby starved and died.
THE END
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Thursday, November 25, 2010
WARNING! WARNING!
NOTE: HUGE BLIZZARD APPROACHING STOP WORST UTAH HAS SEEN IN SEVEN YEARS STOP 3-5 INCHES OF SNOW STOP STAY INSIDE YOUR HOMES STOP ONLY LEAVE IN EMERGENCIES STOP ALL EXTRA ACTIVITIES AND WORK SHOULD BE CANCELED STOP FEAR FOR YOUR LIVES STOP
So, after this warning, I get real excited. A storm is a brewin'! I equip myself with two pairs of pajama pants, two shirts, a sweatshirt, socks, boots, five blankets, a pillow, hot chocolate, and rations for the night. Hannah and I set up in her playroom, ready to endure the storm all night as we play video games and hear the house crash around us from the hazardly winds and snow. Our beds are made to withstand any winds! WE WILL SURVIVE!
And look at that, we did. Turns out the "blizzard" was a couple of dust specks flying around and a chilly breeze. I woke up to 1 cm of snow and a bright sunny day.
Dissapointment.
So, after this warning, I get real excited. A storm is a brewin'! I equip myself with two pairs of pajama pants, two shirts, a sweatshirt, socks, boots, five blankets, a pillow, hot chocolate, and rations for the night. Hannah and I set up in her playroom, ready to endure the storm all night as we play video games and hear the house crash around us from the hazardly winds and snow. Our beds are made to withstand any winds! WE WILL SURVIVE!
And look at that, we did. Turns out the "blizzard" was a couple of dust specks flying around and a chilly breeze. I woke up to 1 cm of snow and a bright sunny day.
Dissapointment.
Friday, November 5, 2010
The Birth of a Blogger
My very first blog post.
The new(semi-old--I'm late on the uptake) fad that's sweeping the nation!
This could possibly be the most difficult entry. The first. What to talk about?
I suppose with my thoughts, right? My first ten thoughts as an official blogger...
1. I was sorely tempted to name this entry "The Birth of Frogger" or "Clogger". But as I don't clog and haven't played Frogger for years, I decided it wasn't relevent.
2. Oh the joy of using other peoples ideas! Thank you Anna Lewis. I AM BLOGGING.
3. Perhaps it would be a good idea to introduce myself...
4. But who am I introducing myself to?
5. Ah well. It's worth a try.
6. I am Shelby Alyse Frampton. A lover.
7. Lover of daisies, school, friends, jazz, the fall!, upcoming Thanksgiving and Christmas, crayons, laughter, rain, pumpkin spice candles, singing happy tunes, and family.
8. I am 18 years old. A recent happening that has made me feel CRAZY old.
9. I hope I am always a child at heart.
10. I am pretty sure I will be.
I am positively proud of that perfect post. (Nice alliteration eh?) It's not really much. But, it's a start. Hopefully I can use this to be more grateful for my life. I can express my concerns and brilliant ideas and wonders and happinesses and stories. This will hold memories. And memories are special. So, I'm off on a new journey.
And as I begin,
I end.
My very first blog post.
The new(semi-old--I'm late on the uptake) fad that's sweeping the nation!
This could possibly be the most difficult entry. The first. What to talk about?
I suppose with my thoughts, right? My first ten thoughts as an official blogger...
1. I was sorely tempted to name this entry "The Birth of Frogger" or "Clogger". But as I don't clog and haven't played Frogger for years, I decided it wasn't relevent.
2. Oh the joy of using other peoples ideas! Thank you Anna Lewis. I AM BLOGGING.
3. Perhaps it would be a good idea to introduce myself...
4. But who am I introducing myself to?
5. Ah well. It's worth a try.
6. I am Shelby Alyse Frampton. A lover.
7. Lover of daisies, school, friends, jazz, the fall!, upcoming Thanksgiving and Christmas, crayons, laughter, rain, pumpkin spice candles, singing happy tunes, and family.
8. I am 18 years old. A recent happening that has made me feel CRAZY old.
9. I hope I am always a child at heart.
10. I am pretty sure I will be.
I am positively proud of that perfect post. (Nice alliteration eh?) It's not really much. But, it's a start. Hopefully I can use this to be more grateful for my life. I can express my concerns and brilliant ideas and wonders and happinesses and stories. This will hold memories. And memories are special. So, I'm off on a new journey.
And as I begin,
I end.
My very first blog post.
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