Limericks

There once was an ant named Balu

Who constructed his anthill with glue

The sand wouldn't stay

With glue, though, it may

It was all that he knew how to do.

There once was a bird named Eli

Who thought he forgot how to fly

He fell from a tree

To escape from a bee

And remembered before he could die.

There once was a sailing chipmunk

Who was, simply, in a word, punk

He set to the seas

In a violent breeze

And before he did know it he sunk.

I love writing limericks. They're an irish poem with a lilting, fun kind of rhythm. They're usually nonsensical. It seems difficult to think of something at first, but just throw something stupid out, because they're really short. They're pretty easy to get into. I like them a lot.

This isn't about limericks, but today at school we went to see an art show. The artist had an array of highly detailed, realistically colored roadkill.

It was possibly the most WEIRDEST thing I've ever seen.

The guide person was all, like, "How do you feel when you look at this? What do you think the artist meant to show through these paintings?"

What did he want to show? Maybe the traffic's heavy between Edmonton and Winnipeg.

I guess it takes all types to make the world go 'round.

The Exquisite Charms of David Garneau.

Softball Season

Sorry, studmuffins. I've been away so long, you probably think I got sucked into a black hole with all of the socks that supposedly go into the dryer, along with my old camera cord. (Which, by the way, my mother actually found the other day. At my cabin. In a hand-held air pump box. For my old camera. That my dog stepped on. Arugh.) But the truth is, it spit me back out.
The reason for this is...softball.
I don't know what's it's like where you live, but here it's like life or death. All or nothing. If you play Peewee (heh heh, I always find that name kinda funny) softball, you are basically sacrificing three months of your life. And a lot of gasoline and Spitz.
In my league, we play about two or three games a week (every game is in this city an hour outside town) and a tournament almost every weekend. This past weekend it was in our hometown, which was awesome. We played against this one team, the Hustlers, and lost. We beat Team Two 18-1. Suckers. Next we beat Team Three by about five runs, I can't remember exactly. In the final was Team Two.
Now, they say that Team Two (who live four hours away from here) were all loading up into cars and their batcatcher, the best player on their team, was late. So they FORGOT her. Their coach, once realizing this, spent most of Saturday driving back and getting her and bringing her back. What losers.
When we were being recounted this story, one of my teammates, Ellen, said: "How can you forget the best player on your team?"
I said, "How can you forget a player, period?"
The mystery remains unsolved. But anyways, they supposedly got their act together on Sunday, when the Forgotten Batcatcher joined their alliances again. But not for us, the Kick Butters of Saskatchewan. We MERCIED them 17-2 in the FINAL. Heh heh heh!!!
My coach is awesome. His name is Chad, and he's only like twenty-five or something. He plays baseball and coaches our softball team, so he says it gets kinda confusing. We watched his game and embarassed him so bad by doing the stupid ball cheers that no one below Squirts actually does. This is the first one:
Chad's up to bat.
Chad's up to bat.
If I were you, and you were me,
I'd scoot my booty back.
Yeah, I'd scoot my booty back.
Way back!
Keep in mind most of these were like, twenty year old men. They were probably shocked. The second one was led by Ellen.
Chad, Chad, he's our man!
If he can't do it, no one can!
Oh, my God. That was sooooo hilarious. Everyone in the bleachers was loving us. Except for maybe Chad's girlfriend. Oops. Sorry.
I'm thinking maybe we screwed our chances to be picked for the Provincial team.
Oh, well. Good times, good times. I hope to always remember these shizznuggets of the good ol' ball years.

Utter Worthlessness

I love been utterly worthless.

Well, not really. And actually, if you've seen my mom's bills, I am far from worthless, what with my knee braces, orthotics, glasses, contacts, and AIDs.

Just kidding. I don't have contacts.

Today I am acting utterly worthless. I camped out in a city, sleeping in close quarters with FIVE other people, and having to play ball at eight o'clock in the morning. (And we had to warm up at SEVEN THIRTY.) I had a pretty good weekend of softball: I only struck out once, lots of singles, a few doubles. For those of you nitwits that don't get ball talk, striking out is bad. Singles is hitting the ball and running to first base. Doubles is going to second base.

And oh, I got two walks. I hate walks. I really really DESPISE walks. Walks is when the pitcher sucks and throws four balls (heh heh sorry but it means unsuitable to swing at) and they give you a freebie to first base. As I mentioned, I DETEST walks. It's like getting away with doing nothing. You didn't EARN anything. I prefer to hammer my way around the field, kicking up red shale and sliding into second and taking out the second baseman's legs so that they fall on top of you and whine for the rest of the game. (True story. Just yesterday. It was fun.) But anyways, we won. The tournament, I mean. It would seem a bigger deal if we didn't win three tournaments and Provincials last year. The last time my team didn't win a tournament was last April. And we placed second.

Wowzahs, we're spoiled.

So, today, I am being utterly worthless. I am vegging and reading and writing in my journal and blogging and procrastinating delivering papers because my muscles are sore. Also I'm lazy.

Tomorrow I'm going to the city for (get this) a BALL game, but it's my sister's. I'm gonna get my fish and also repair/purchase my/a old iPod/new iPod. That was a very convoluted sentence, as well. But it's true.

The only production of today was a drawing I made with my seldom-used pastels.

Abstract Eyes of Many Colors.

So, this was new. I don't generally abstract around too often, but it was fun. Less limits, less rules. I like eyes and art. I think they go good together, because so much be seen in eyes. Expressions and souls and emotions, and eyes are also the windows which we see things from.

Oh, and by the way, I seem to be The Last Human on Earth without Facebook. Am I missing anything?

iPods and Guinea Pigs

Can you find the Guinea Pig in the Stuffed Animals?

Ha ha. That's our guinea pig, Spice, that's wedged in there. She's an angora guinea pig. My mom teaches kindergarten, and Sugar and Spice are the main attractions.

I'm depressed. My iPod is not working. I press the menu or center button, it glows silver, beeps twice, and falls back into its black slumber. Or maybe COMA is more like it!!!

I have a ball tourney this weekend. We're camping, to save the cost of hotels. Heh. It should be fun. In between games, I'm going to bring my sleeping beauty to a Future Shop. Maybe the guy can raise it from the dead, for a fee of only 295, 378 dollars!

I have to clean my room and make banana bread to take camping, when I really want to sit down and play the Sims 2 for several mind-numbing hours.

But at least my Auntie gave me a Diet Pepsi. Diet Pepsi makes ya feel better.

Starting Fresh

Yaaaaaaaaaaaay, I'm a teenager. Like, OFFICIALLY.
As far as gifts go, they were great. $25 to my favorite bookstore, $25 to spend on iTunes, and fish. That sounds so weird when I say it but it's true. Next time I'm at the store, I'm gonna get a couple of exotic goldfish to keep me company and add to the zenness in my room. I went to the city to see a movie (17 Again--it was surprisingly good) with a few friends. Alex gave me a Jacob poster (which is gonna replace my Edward poster hands down), Kensey gave me a sweet new journal and a cool quill pen (I filled up mine; I've already written eight pages in the new one) and Aaleah gave me spending money. We got Happy Bunny socks. I also got new shorts, a tank top, and sunglasses. From my neighbor, who is our adopted Grandma, basically, I got a Jameez garment bag and a thingie from the bank that has $25 on it to spend anywhere but looks like a credit card. I'm gonna leave it in there as long as possible and feel cool. My cousin works at the Bodyshop and gave me a case of make up and showed me how to put it on professionally. My aunt bought me three books: "The Complete Idiot's Guide on How to Write A Novel," "How To Write Killer Historic Mysteries," and a book with bookplate stickers to label all my books. This is awesome, because a) I'm trying to write a novel and b) people always borrow my books. Sometimes they give them back. All in all, awesome.
And, oh yeah, some recent news. I dumped Dylan today after school.
Okay, that sounds so harsh, put like that, but it really wasn't dramatic. I just decided it was time. I'm not a player or anything, I don't dump boys on a regular basis. Besides, neither of us was really into it. We don't really "click". Some people claim the two of them fit together like puzzle pieces. Dylan and I are puzzle pieces, too: two different ones. Some spaces don't connect, and some grind around the edges. He hasn't talked to me in like, a week. My friend Kensey (I didn't ask her to do this, by the way) lectured him on not coming to watch me at dance recital last night (which went good) and he replied, "I don't care." Which somewhat ticked me off.
I'm glad I did, though. When I really think about it, I AM too young to date. I am a teenager, but still young. I'm not even in high school, for God's sake! I'm just gonna hold off till I'm about fifteen, or until some guy catches my eye. Because why should I accept less than the very best? There's gotta be my Edward Cullen out there somewhere.
I'm not saying all seventh grade relationships are bad. My aforementioned friend Kensey has a 'boyfriend' who absolutely adores her. They are so cute together. They honestly like each other and hang out innocently. I see no problem with that.
I know you guys probably don't care about my pathetic love life, but I just wanted to put that down. Now I'm livin' the single life! (Actually, it seems weird to say that. Like I'm a forty-year-old woman who just pulled out of her third divorce. Which I'm not. But that just makes me more glad I've ended it.)
At dance recital, I dance in a tap group called "Five Guys Named Moe." The song is, basically, about five guys named Moe. Big Moe, Lil' Moe, Four-Eyed Mo, No' Moe, and Eat Moe. I am Four-Eyed Moe. Guess what? For Recital, Four-Eyed Moe wore contacts and, yep: forgot her glasses. I ended up borrowing the sound guy's glasses at the last minute. I couldn't see, but at least I had those vital specs.
When I was doing papers, one of the people I deliver papers to came up to me and gave me five bucks. "Just because," She said.
"No, it's okay!" I protested. She shook her head and thrust the blue bill at me.
"Just because," She repeated. I took it.
"Thank you very much," I said gratefully. It was one of those little gestures that just kinda made my day, a random act of kindness that boosted my spirits.
Now, I want YOU guys, those entire two people who read this, to do what she did. Perform a random act of kindess on a complete/almost complete stranger. Compliment a classmate you don't normally talk to. Help an old person across the street. Tip your waiters. I don't know.
Speaking of old guys, while I was on my paper route, I saw an old guy on a motorcycle. It bugged me, the same way forty-year-old moms wearing LuluLemon bug me. The same way old geezers driving convertibles bug me. You ever feel like that?
So, anyways, I'm starting fresh. New clean room, new age, almost new fish, no more dance, softball just starting. I might even start doing my math homework.

A Little Catching Up

I've been absent for a while...as Jehsyka puts it, it may seem like I was "eaten by a moose." Which would suck. But, as it turns out, moose only nibble. So I'm alive!
Dance recital is next weekend, which I can't wait for. That means dance will be done! It's really weird. I can't believe it's wrapped up so quickly. And, after dance has completed, it's basically hard-core softball until July.
I live in a lil Saskatchewan town, which can be veryvery frustrating. For instance, over the Easter break, it was just warmer and warmer and warmer. We went to my cabin (which is somewhat more Northern, so it was colder/wetter, but oh well) for Easter, and when we came back it was like May warm!!! I was just pulling out my flip-flops when--nightmare of nightmares--it SNOWED again. Darmit, stupid snow!
It's not exactly frigid out today, but it's not Maywarm, either. It's sunny and windy, so I'm dealing.
So, as far as Easter break goes, it was awesome. I deeply enjoyed no school, and I got some writing done as well. I hung out at the local park (the kind with no toys; just grass and memorials and stuff) with some friends a few nights, had a sleepover with a friend, made fifty bucks babysitting yesterday and my whole family crashed at my aunt's house. With the exception of Dad. He had a poker night over here. When they have poker nights, they eat meat and beer. It's so mannish and disgusting. We asked Dad what they ate last night and he detailed, like, six different kinds of sausage. Call me nuts but I couldn't eat MEAT all night long. Ugh.
Oh, and I spent about six hours cleaning my room. No, it wasn't THAT messy! I dug through and organized and threw old stuff out. I'm a total pack rat. I don't think I've thrown anything out in my life. Into a bulging garbage bag I was shoving those cheap plastic beads from like four years ago, certificates of good behavior from second grade, etc. It was a total disaster. At one point, I spouted an awesome line: "I am drowning in the remnants of my life." It was true, but I figured it was a good line, so I wrote it down. My room is so fresh and organized and awesome now! The theme I've got going on in there is best suited to be PERFECTLY NEAT. Which doesn't often happen. But it's been three days and it's looking much the same, but I won't say anything else in case I jinx it. I might be getting new furniture, as my set is teeny and unable to store my almost-teenager clothes.
I'm turning thirteen on Wednesday, which I'm hyped about. I want some fish. That sounds so weird when I say it, but it's true. Just, like, two exotic-looking (I can't trust myself with keeping a true exotic fish alive) goldfish in a small fishtank in my room. It'll add to the lights and candles of zen in my room. I also want a few books, a new bag, and an iTunes card or something.
Lots of people my age want a cell phone, but to be perfectly honest, I don't. I mean, I know I wouldn't use it often. In theory, a "teenager" could have a phone, in my world, but 13 is still too young, I think. Also, none of my best friends have a phone. Who would I call? My mom? I want to get a phone at about age 15, maybe 14, or whenever my BFFs get phones. Otherwise there is no point to having one.
"The Choice" by Nicholas Sparks is the best book I've read in a long time. READ IT.
And that's all, folks. By da way, I'll try to post timbits of Miriam's Isle soon.

PDFs--Mystery Discovered!

My dad showed me how to make PDF files on the internet. Whee!!
How he knows is that him and his comedy partner, Mark have published The Wedding Mc Joke Book and he knows a thing or two about PDFs.
For those of you who wanna know how, its rather easy. Download a program called "Software995". Then, go to the document you want PDF'd, and click Print. If you installed it succesfully there should be a "PDF995" option under Printer. Then you have it!
As an experiment I have put a few pages of Miriam's Isle as a PDF. I'll figure out how to put it out there soon.
Good luck PDFing.