Learning Lessons.

In Logan, when I was 3 or 4, I was playing in the garage. I don't know why mom and dad let a 3 year old play in the garage alone. The bikes were either hung up, or upside down, so that the wheels were easily accessible. I was playing with a doll, which I decided was being "bad", so I placed her face on the bike tire and spun it as hard as I could. Let's just say she learned HER lesson.

When I was 5 or 6 we had those crazy neighbors in Kingston. Our neighbor Nick, the Norwegian, was as cowardly as he was unstable. One day I was playing outside with him, when another neighbor's dog approached us with some kind of animal skull. Both of us were terrified. He ran away, up to his house,  while the dog continued to follow me. I ran to the big sliding glass door, which was locked, and started frantically beating my fists against it until mom came and rescued me.

Another time, Nick and I were playing at his house. He said he liked his house more than mine. I was thoroughly offended.

Then there was the sandal scandal. Mom's sandal went missing one day. It was way back when we still left our shoes on the porch. Nick would get angry if I couldn't come out and play. Most of the time it was because I was at Kindergarten. He would kick the door, and one time he kicked a jar of something me and Elizabeth collected off the porch onto the concrete, shattering it. As I said, unstable. A few weeks after mom's sandal went missing, I was playing with Nick, and he showed me that he had stolen the sandal and hidden it under a tarp on his porch. I said we should put it back as a surprise for her. In my head I was thinking, "What a jerk! This kid is psycho and must be stopped." I didn't say anything like this out loud though. The little tact I learned as a 5 year old told me to just get the sandal back, then deal with him. After the sandal was back, I told mom. She was very forgiving. She was glad her sandal was back. I wanted justice. This is probably why we stopped leaving our shoes outside.

The only good things that came from being friends with him were that when we played inside his house, his mom let us have sparkling cider, which they always had what seemed like countless bottles of.

I also learned that I liked soy sauce while at their house, as opposed to our house, where we just had so-ee sauce.

Elizabeth and I would play all sorts of games in our room, like kittens in a box, and when we had bunk beds, we would play like it was a boat and we couldn't get off of it.

When we had the bunk beds, we would also write things on the bottom of the top bunk. She wrote that I loved Mason. The kid on the bus. He was in Thomas' grade, so yeah, I liked an older man, but she wrote it down. It was basically the worst form of treachery when you were in first grade.

I used to swear too. Only on the bus home from school. I would swear because Mason swore. He would sing "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead" to me. I would call him names consisting of a swear word, with "bucket" tacked on the end. I was basically the toughest kid on the bus.

Mom would walk me to the bus stop when I was in Kindergarten. There was a cow in the pasture on the way down the road to the bus stop. I was terrified of that cow. I was sure I saw a spot where the cow could get out. Then I was sure he would run after mom and gore her when I was at school.

I had a lot of fears. I was afraid of the dark, but I could only leave the bathroom light on. If I left the hall light on, I was sure mom would come up the stairs with a basket of laundry, try to turn off the light with her elbow, and fall backwards down the stairs. For some reason, I was extremely worried that mom would die some crazy and horrific death. At night I would stand at the door of mom and dad's room and hold my breath so I could hear and make sure that they were still breathing. I was also worried that for some reason, someone was going to put their mouth over the drain of the bathtub and get stuck... leading to death. Also, floss had to be, and still has to be tied into knots after its use, or else I, or someone else, can use it in their sleep to strangle someone.

In Logan, me and Elizabeth would have to go to sleep, but we, obviously, didn't want to. We were TOLD, like every kid, that there was nothing going on after we went to bed, but we were pretty convinced there was some kind of party going on. Then one night, we went to the top of the stairs and saw Deon, Gabe and Devon in the kitchen... EATING AIRHEADS.

I don't remember much of Tony before he went nuts, but I do remember him being at our Logan house and pouring orange juice on his fruit loops.

Also, that one time when Nathan Lee hit me in the face with a Frisbee in Kingston when I was 5. I want that in writing for when he becomes famous.

Thomas once trapped me in one of those orange scouting mummy bags. I think that's what started my fear of... everything. However, I also remember him reading me that book about Bugs Bunny going to space in his Carrot rocket ship.

Thomas once sold me a small square of Lego base, with a palm tree on it for three dollars. Dad made him give the money back.

In the back of the station wagon, Elizabeth and I would sing songs. We'd sing "Daisy, Daisy" and "The Song that Never Ends" until Thomas wanted to beat our heads in.


Gabe and Devon's Logan room was enormous. Or at least I thought it was. It was also always playing They Might Be Giants and had that Morrisey caricature hanging up, along with the "Stay back 20 feet" sign.

Then there was that time Gabe was running to catch a football in the yard in Kingston and ran straight into the blackberry bushes.

When Devon got off the plane when he was getting home from his mission, he was the last one off. He said he dropped his tag, but I'm pretty sure he was just trying to torture us.

Devon, Kelsey and I had to share a birthday cake when we lived in Lacey. They blew out my candles.

Deon and Kelsey would talk to each other in Gibberish. I thought they were talking in another language, so I would demand that they tell me what they were saying. They just laughed and laughed.

Kelsey would tell me about all her boy problems. Mostly her Preston and Carl problems.  I had no idea what was happening, but she said I was a good listener.







Kelsey started a "club" in Lacey, consisting of me, Elizabeth, Thomas and her. We would lip-sync to the Beatles and have club meetings in the attic, where there were glow-in-the-dark stars plastered everywhere.

Deon taught me how to play volleyball. She also sent balloons to Wolfle for my birthday one year. She also picked me up from school when I was "sick" one day in first grade. I bit the plastic thermometer. I think that's why it said I had a fever. She took me to "Six Star" and got me a green plastic pony. I basically idolized her.

One time in Logan, I couldn't or wouldn't sleep. Dad was laying on the couch and let me lay down with him. We were either watching sports or "Star Trek". I remember he was wearing a white shirt, because my head was laying on it and his chest was going up and down while he breathed. I think he was asleep, but there was no way I was going to get up and bring any attention to myself, because then I would have to go to bed.

I also remember playing catch with dad in Kingston. I wasn't very good, but I thought it was pretty great, except when I threw the ball when dad wasn't looking and almost hit him in the face. That was back when he had glasses still.

One Father's day, or maybe dad's birthday, I didn't have a gift for him, so I just scrounged up a bunch of stuff from under beds and in junk drawers, put it into a gift bag and gave it to him.

Our family was at a water park once, and I jumped in the pool. I must have been 3 or 4. I was too short and couldn't get up above the water. There were adults around me, but they weren't helping, so mom, who was in her regular clothes, reached in and pulled me out. I think she was even wearing long sleeves. That's all I remember.

When I  was 4 or 5 I was a princess for Halloween. We were living in Lacey and mom made me this shiny turquoise princess dress. I loved it. What made it even more amazing, was that she also got me some big plastic jewels to wear with it as jewelry. I loved it so much.

In Logan, at church, they took a picture of me, and we made those horrible noodle and cardboard frames, which they then spray painted silver. I gave it to mom, but first I picked off half the silver noodles, revealing the colorful cardboard of a cereal box underneath.

Mom got me this Barbie wedding dress for Christmas when we lived in Logan. It was amazing. I loved it. Then there was the doll house in Lacey that mom and dad got me. Elizabeth told me I was getting it. I told her there was no Santa Claus.

The only time I ever sleep walked was in Lacey. I woke up during the night, standing up, in the kitchen. I immediately ran to mom and dad's room. For a while I thought, "There's no way. I must have fallen asleep in the kitchen... standing up."  I have since realized that impossibility.

ABC... all about me.

For the next 26 posts, I will be giving my opinion and thoughts on various nouns starting with a letter of the alphabet. For instance: topiary (which would be under "T"): 

Topiary:
An English garden cannot be complete without a topiary. I don't think the world would be the same without them, though honestly I don't think it would be too tragic for them to disappear  Don't get me wrong, they're great, but honestly, who would donate to a "Save the Topiary"  charity. No one. That's who. Let's save baby dolphins with broken fins instead.

 

 Retraction:

Moments after writing the above, I found the following photos, and realized I was grossly mistaken.

Who cares about broken baby dolphins anyway? This is amazing! It's a family of elephants and the Loch Ness Monster. If your jaw isn't on the floor, I'll break some dolphin fins. 

Titanic

It was over 14 years ago. An 8 year old with sensitive nerves who spent many nights on her parents floor, attempting to sleep through her overly-paranoid imagination. It was me. As I sat on the end of my parents' bed alone one Sunday night, I watched the 56th annual Golden Globe Awards. The Nominees for Best Picture: "Amistad", "The Boxer", "Good Will Hunting", "L.A. Confidential", but the winner is "Titanic". I don't actually remember the nominees, all I remember is that Titanic was the biggest movie ever, and that I didn't want to see it. It was too scary. Leonardo Dicaprio's name would forever be emblazoned in my memory from that time forward, known as the hunk that played the hero in "Titanic", never actually knowing his character's name. As I watched, and they played clips from the movie, the made-up replications of horrific true events flashing on the screen. Then it struck: the frosty dead bodies floating in the water. My face went white. I most likely didn't sleep in my own bed that night, every time I closed my eyes seeing the actors in the seemingly frozen water, sprayed with non-toxic foam makeup. It all seemed so real, so life, or dead-like. The next morning I sat eating my breakfast. Frosted Mini-Wheats. As I got to the last few pieces of cereal, I looked down at the frosted rectangles floating slowly in the water. Reminded of the frozen bodies, I abandoned my cereal bowl, never really forgetting the nauseous feeling in my stomach. So as "Titanic" in 3D comes out this weekend, I won't be seeing it. As far as I'm concerned, I've smelled, tasted, heard, felt and seen it in Real-D already.

Sometimes I think "That was so clever. I wish someone was around to hear it." Oh well. Welcome to the mind and times of Catherine.

Pinterest.

Colossal waste of time. Worth it? In the long run? No.F or instant gratification? Yes. I have done a few things on Pinterest that I am actually pretty proud of. For instance, I made a couple of t-shirts which are pretty bad. (Bad meaning good in this sense.) I tried making a scarf out of an old t-shirt. Even though the t-shirt had holes, I still think it would have been better to leave it as a tee in this case. It looked like I was wearing rags around my neck. Headband, cinnamon wreath roles, caramel and chocolate covered pretzels were also on my list of victories. However there are things on Pinterest that I see that just scream "I have nothing but time, and no shame." For instance: who needs a crocheted balloon cover? What does it even do? It would probably take you longer to make the crocheted balloon cover than the length of time the balloon stayed inflated.(Update: apparently the balloon covers are for letting kids play with them as balls. Go buy your kid a ball. Can you say "Waste of time, energy, and effort?") Come on people. Here's another favorite I found. Photo shown below. Crocheted elf slippers. Really? You spend 4 weeks on those and wear them, what? 20 minutes a year?

Hunger Games.

Seriously. I'm so psyched. There was this poll on IMDB.com that asked "Will the Hunger Games be better than Twilight?" Well, all I can say is: How could it POSSIBLY be any worse? "You lied to everyone! Charlie..." Sorry wolf-boy. That's only one person. Better start writing down those few and far-between thoughts of yours.

BTR.

If you know what I'm talking about, you are either 13 years old or my sister. Big Time Rush. It's a Nickelodeon show, and I love it. It is so funny. I think some people just don't have the sophisticated humor palette that I do though. Not the point. The point is I've never been to a concert before, and I am going to theirs in July. That's right. If you are watching Nickelodeon

and see a promo for a Big Time Rush concert with a girl who looks like me wearing an "I heart Logan" shirt- well let me just remove all doubt- it's probably me. Kelsey is getting tickets and I am going to be in the front touching hands with the coolest boy band since The Monkees.

The Monkees.

Here we come, walking down the street... as pole bearers for Davy Jones. Oh Davy. You were always my favorite. Your British accent and tambourine skills were like no other. I didn't realize when I had such a crush on you that you were older than my own parents, but I'll let that go for now. I don't know. Something just doesn't feel right about living in a world without Davy Jones. Is it because of his locker and that my nickname is Crakin? Ok, maybe not. Give me a break, I'm trying to be heart-felt here.

Disneyland.

I went to Disneyland with my sister Elizabeth the other... month? Does that sound right?Whatever, it was last month. So much fun. The only drawback was that Matterhorn was closed, but Big Thunder Mountain was open, and we went on that like 8 times, so we're good. We went to the "Blue Bayou" restaurant, which was delicious, though the prices made me want to vomit. Oh well, it was a one time thing. Also, Elizabeth told them it was my birthday so they gave me a chocolate mousse. I was glad they didn't ask for my I.D. I would have had to tell them the truth- that my sister is a liar, and if anyone deserved to be kicked out of Disneyland, it was her. I was also glad there were no singing pirates. Elizabeth was disappointed. I think that may have been the only reason she wanted to go there at all.

I spent too much money on their incredibly inflated prices, and I was happy about it. Figures. Let me just tell you one thing though. Do not buy green cotton candy, expecting it to taste good. I'll tell you again. DO NOT buy green cotton candy. It is... (I don't know how to make a gagging sound). It was gross. I don't even know what flavor they were shooting for. There's this saying I made up though. It goes "When in doubt, get the pink kind. It's safer." It's not very catchy, but you'll never forget it.

Famous.

That's right. Soon, I may be famous. You know those promos they do on Disney Channel where there are these geeky DC stars over-acting in an attempt show off the new ride or attraction? I saw one happening right there in Disneyland. We didn't recognize the stars, apparently they are on some kind of web show. Or maybe a future Disney Channel show. Anyway, I was walking with Elizabeth, and I don't know how she looked, but I was looking right into the camera as I walked sideways past, with that squinty eyed, jaw dropped expression like "What the heck..." Also like "I'm completely incoherent right now". Right after I walked past, the director yelled, "We got it!" I think they meant "We got another moron on tape! We can post it on Youtube now!" They probably just had the actors as decoys to draw people in.

Committee.

I am on 2 committees in my ward. I was thinking about the origin of the words. I am pretty sure it began as some commies drinking tea, who were trying to figure out how to take over the world. The spelling got mixed up in translation and eventually the communists drinking tea were forgotten (must have been British commies, not that memorable) and now we have committees. So, in conclusion, I think we should boycott committees all together. The word boycott is a whole different story. It happened when a British boy was supposed to be at the communist meeting and fell asleep- hence the cot. Therefore they thought he was going against, or boycotting the meeting. It all makes so much more sense now.

You know you're a ...

You know how they make those lists of "You know you're a (blank) when..."? For example: You know you're from Washington when: You can pronounce the city name Puyallup. They don't say "Partly cloudy" on the weather report, but instead say "Partly sunny". Well I made up a new one. It goes a little something like this (Holla to my pals "The Fresh Beat Band"):

You know you're a Gosney when:

You yell at neighborhood cats to "Run for your lives!" and mean it.

You consider brussel sprouts a treat.

You thought board games were not allowed at FHE, but then found out your mom just hated them.

You're the only one who doesn't offer to ride in the rear facing seat of that old station wagon.

Someone asks you for the "stick" and you don't look for a piece of wood.

You laugh at the very mention of a wizard staff.

You know almost the entire poem "The Walrus and the Carpenter" from memory.

You know every word to every "Newsies" song.

You were sung to sleep by dad singing, "The Chocolate Ice-Cream Cone" song.

I have more, but they involve segregating us into senior and junior Gosney kids.

That's all for today. Tune in next time for "You know you're a Mormon when..."

Skool is kool.

What I learned in SkOoL.

Did you know I'm going to school? Probably. Well, anyway, I am. I'm taking an education class, a philosophy class, and English class and a history class. Short summaries:

Education: we are learning to teach small children by observing, teaching through experience and showing compassion and care. My teacher scares the crud out of me. I feel like any minute she's going to look at me and just say "Get out, you fail."

Philosophy: Pointless. No offense to all the philosophers out there, maybe it's just my teacher. He's constantly talking in circles, which I get the feeling that a lot of philosophers do. It's like saying "Let me play the devil's advocate for a minute." all the time. So in the end, no one knows what your actual opinion is- and you have no idea what to write your paper about. Stinkin'.... Plus he's always talking about "what I wrote my thesis on..." and "I work 5 jobs, so you have no excuse." I just want to throttle him. I'd like to say "How do you know we have no excuse? Maybe someone in here works six jobs and is going to school full time?" --and perhaps likes to sleep a lot. Then he says this thing- "Yes, no? Does that make sense?" ALL THE TIME. He says it even if he doesn't expect us to answer back, which if he still expects us to answer back, he shouldn't get his hopes up. A total of 1 person talks in that class, and since I sit behind that person, I'm pretty sure he's just trying to distract from the fact that he's playing "Angry Birds" most of the time.

History: Not much to report. I did find out that John Smith was about 5 foot, had a gum disease which caused him to have bad breath and may or may not have ever even met Pocahontas, who was about 7 when he was in his forties. So... that kind of ruins that movie.

English: I like to write. Obviously- I can write about nothing for hours. But last week we had to have our rough drafts for a paper in, and since I hadn't written it, I cranked it out, knowing that it would be crud, but I just wanted to have something to show so I didn't get in trouble. Turns out, a week later, I turn in that same paper, with some revisions, as my final draft. I don't really know what happened. I don't really like writing about stuff that doesn't really speak to me- as you can tell from what I write about here. My teacher asked me a couple of weeks ago what the last book I read was. I said, "I don't remember... I read a lot." She then said "See, she reads so much she can't even remember the title of the last book she read." Actually I couldn't remember the title of the last book I read because it had been such a long time since I had read a book. However, I do read a lot. One of the guys in my class said that he had only read one novel in his whole life. Wow. Not ok. How did he get through high school? I'll tell you how- cheating.

Fairy vs. Faerie.

I think Fairies are American, while Faeries are European. However, I know for a fact that the books I read that have "Faeries" are all written by Americans who just want to be European. What's with that? Well since the lines have been blurred, here's my take: Fairies look like this:

They are cute and have big eyes and happy little wings. They are in books that are happy and have a good ending without all that drama.

"Faeries" are always moping around. They look like this. See, this picture isn't cute. It's supposed to "speak" to you. She's not smiling, and you know she knows she's being painted, she just wants that dramatic effect. "Faeries" wear dull colors and have creepier wings- like a bug.

Creepy

Speaking of creepy things- a word of advice: don't watch a thriller movie trailer in the middle of the night. I just watched a trailer for the movie called "The Raven", and let me tell you, it's not a documentary of Edgar Allen Poe's life. Creepy. A few months ago I watched the trailer for a movie called "The Lady in Black" or something like that, and I couldn't close my eyes for days without thinking a zombie hand was going to reach out and grab my shoulder. I don't even think it was a zombie hand in the trailer.

Sigh.

Here's something to think about: What would you do differently if you saw a sign on the road that said "Guardrail Damage Ahead"? My guess is nothing. There is one on the way to Kelsey's house, and I don't get it. "Ooh look honey, there's guardrail damage ahead! So please don't swerve off the road until we get past it ok?" Come on. The only way that sign has a point is if some blind guy is running down the road BY HIMSELF and is using the guardrail for a guide, but oh, by the way, he's blind so he can't see the sign anyway.

The only sign I can think of that has less point is "Falling Rocks". Ummm, so what am I gonna do about it? I can't stop the rocks from falling. Plus if you're trying to tell me to slow down, that's not gonna happen either- I'm hauling off the mountain as fast as I can. Falling rocks- psh.

Excipointed.

Dad and a whole bunch of guys at works got prizes for going so long without incident. He brought this big box home with the word YETI on it. I was kind of excited. Was it Yeti bait? A Yeti foot? An Ipad for his youngest child? No. It was a cooler. A Yeti brand cooler. Whatever. Inside there was a pamphlet, and I'm not talking three-fold sheet of paper with the company's mission statement- it was a 10-15 page cardstock booklet of all the wonderful things about a Yeti cooler (which probably cost as much as an I-pad). Inside it had photos of "famous" people (I'm talking fishing channel famous. Not REAL famous.) with quotes about how great the Yeti cooler is. How before the Yeti, they "spent thousands on ice". Really? Thousands? You don't need ice made from champagne sir. But the crowning jewel was that this was one of the toughest coolers around because-ta da!- it was Grizzly bear proof.

At first I thought that was pretty cool. Then I thought, if I walked into my camp and there was a grizzly bear there, what would be my first thought? "SAVE THE FISH!" would not be on my top ten list. I'd be out of there in a heartbeat, hauling my be-hind down the trail to the car which I'd drive ten miles down the interstate in before I remembered I left my wallet in the tent.

Wasted humor.

Even as a child, my mom said I took things very literally. (Why is it called a white sale if not everything is white?) Unfortunately, this means I don't get, or I may choose to ignore, many other people's jokes. I know I make more ridiculous jokes than almost anyone, and some are even puns, but they seem to make sense to me. I feel sometimes my humor is wasted though. Either I make a joke that I think is clever and there's too much noise, people just aren't listening, or I know more about that ONE subject than them, so I end up having to explain it. This morning for instance, I was thinking about giving Ben a card for helping with my computer that said "Thanks for all your hard work, but all I'm giving you is a big donut." Then I would give a donut to him. See, I thought it was clever. You know, a donut is like a big zero, as in, no money. Kelsey didn't think it was funny. She said if I had to explain it, it wasn't funny. Wasted humor. Then this one time a few years ago when everyone was stocking up on rice because the prices were going up and people thought rice was running out or something, mom and dad were talking about why they thought the rice was running out. I said "Maybe the rice fields flooded." Rice is harvested on flooded fields. Clever right? They weren't listening. Then when they say "What was that?" I repeat it, and it's no longer funny. Waste. I try and I try and all I get are, "What did you say?"s and "I don't get it."s. What does a person have to do to be taken seriously?

Every time I look at facebook I think, "Could this get any more depressing?" Everyone is either depressed about something, and feels the need to share, and others... well more are just obnoxious. I can't stand it when someone puts something really vague on thier status like "I hope I can make it through this tough time that may change my life forever." Then they say nothing else about it. It's like, if you don't want us to know what the hard time is, don't tell me about it in the first place. I am all for privacy, but that's like saying "I have a really awesome secret... but I'm not going to tell you." Then you can't even ask because you feel like you're being nosy. THEN, to make it worse, there are all the comments from the people who knows what's going on, and they are giving advice and it makes no sense because you don't know what's happening. Yeah. That's why I hate facebook. And because I don't really talk to anyone on there anyway.

Stupid Cars.
The only car that is more stupid looking than those box cars, are PT Cruisers. Seriously. The only people who drive those are A) Going through a midlife crisis... 10 years ago, B) Unfortunate enough to have their parents' hand-me-down midlife crisis car or C) Kidding themselves.



(Oh yeah, the sun rays make all the difference.)

Studying.
When I think about studying, I think about a slow and painful process of looking over terms, vocabulary, and names I will never hear again. But then I think- it doesn't have to be that way. It can be fun, like a roller-coaster. Then I think, "Nope, nothing is as fun as a roller-coaster. Studying stinks."

Universal.
I think that if Universal remotes really existed, there would be a whole lot less remotes in everyone's houses. They always advertise for universal remotes, but are they really? If they were, they would work on all or your devices, which I think is the point, but here's mine: I've never been to a house with only one remote. We have 2, which I believe is the least amount we've ever had for a TV since the DVD player was dumped on our doorsteps like a hot sack of... rocks back in the single digits... of the 21st century. COME ON. It's 2011. I should think that after all these years, we could at least have a remote that adapted to all devices. I also think there should be a way to have a remote work from anywhere in the room. (I actually have a plan for that, it just isn't in motion yet since I know nothing about electronics.) I feel like I have to stand up and do a special remote dance every time I want to change the volume. Sheesh. What's the world coming to?

I have the best ice-cream idea ever. It will be bunny tracks ice-cream with an added ingredient- marshmallow cream. I'll call it "Rabbid Bunny Tracks".
Oh man. I want a bunny so bad I could cry. And a kitten. But I don't think I should get both at once.

There is this group here in Denton called the "KDB", not to be confused with the KGB, which I hear isn't great. KDB stands for "Keep Denton Beautiful". I bought one of thier water bottles for 2 reasons. First, it was only a dollar, and hello, I love waterbottles. This one even had a pop top, so I didn't have to unscrew the lid. It's pretty cool. Secondly, it has the "KDB" logo on it, with the phrase "Rinse, Reuse, Repeat" on it. You see, it says to people who see me "She's into keeping our community green." But then it doesn't hold me to the too high standard of being green outside our city. Awesome. Then something aweful happened. It went through the dishwasher and the bottom totally melted. It's still usable but it can't stand up anymore. Guess what can though? A disposable water bottle.

Now, onto my favorite subject. TV... and making fun of most of it.

7th Heaven.
I think the WB president had a little extra cash, called a meeting and said "I think we should try an experiment. Let's get a whole bunch of the worst actors and actresses and make a T.V. show out of it. Oh, and also, let's let a group of highschool drama teachers to write the script. Yeah, let's call it '7th Heaven'."
Oh and then he said "And let's throw in a kid who looks like she was born in Mexico to add to the mystery of the extremely white family." I honestly don't know how that stayed on for so many years. I'm pretty sure some of the co-stars were pulled off the street and told "all you have to do is read the cue card."

Now, let's talk about good T.V. Chuck. My new favorite show that stars adults. "Big Time Rush." My new favorite show that stars teenagers... who are actually in thier early 20's. Both of these shows are awesome, and yet so different that it's like comparing apples and oranges... or a Nickelodeon show to a show on a major network. Big Time Rush, or as some call them, BTR, has a target audience of... tweens. I am more or a tween 20 and 22. I know, maybe I should be watching more mature shows, but honestly it makes me crack up every time. I love it. "Chuck", or as some call it... "Chuck", also makes me laugh every time and is a good answer for a 21 years old to have when asked what her favorite TV show is. Kelsey even made me a "Nerd Herd" logo out of vinyl on her special cutting machine for my computer. It was my idea, but Kelsey did a factastic job of making it, which I couldn't figure out how to do.
Speaking of "Chuck". My sister Deon, "Holla Atcha" has very good taste. It is pretty incredible. When Deon says, I think you should watch this show, or read this book, it's almost without fail that I love it. She was the one who told me to watch "Chuck", "Big Time Rush", and so many other things.

Speaking of Deon, I mean "Chuck". I have decided to start carrying a knife in my boot. Eventually I'll get a real spy knife, but for now I think I'm going to just use a kitchen knife ducktaped to the side of my sandal. I'm gonna need to find a knife holder thing all those spies have. Do you think spy shops are hard to find? I think that in order to be legit, like for real spies, they should be. I can't just go to one in the mall, then everyone would know. I'm gonna have to start going down dark allies and on the roofs of tall buildings. I'll probably find some kind of contact there. I wonder if they have shopping carts at spy shops. If you think about it, a spy may be able to carry everything consealed in thier clothes and shoes to a swanky party, but with all the packaging in the store, that would be a nightmare to carry around.


When I become rich and famous, I am going to start a reality show about me. It will be called "Harsh Reality". It'll be ironic though because real reality is actually boring... especially mine.