I really like the new MoTime.
Merry Christmas, also.
Stole it from Chester, who in turn stole it from dreamchaser04:
1.Go into your archives.
2.Find your 23rd post (or closest to).
3.Find the fifth sentence (or closest to).
4.Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
And I'm gonna eat!
Hahaha.... figures.
Thank you to:
Allyson, for making me smile
Nick, for making me think
Kate, for making me feel
Meg, for making me aspire
Sonar, for making me laugh
Justine, for making me care
Builta, for making me change
Lara, for making me wonder
Michelle, for making me create
Jeff, for making me believe
Ann, for making me dream
I love motime :) It makes me happy because it doesn't suck!
You know what does suck? No? Well I'll tell you what sucks (because I know you want to know). It sucks when you think something is absolutely hilarious (i.e. Cartman's tooth fairy escapade) and someone (i.e. your father) comes along and demands to know what you're laughing about, and then when they find out, they shut you down and they're like "WOW THAT'S THE DUMBEST GAYEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE HISTORY OF MY LIFE". Yeah. I really, really don't like that.
On another note, I could do with an Arby's beef'n'cheddar right now. I dig the beef'n'cheddar.
And on a final note (probably a leaving note; I am going to my mother's tomorrow morning and will not be back here with internet access for at least a week), I have decided that I am going to write a book this summer. I want it to be moving and yet funny. I have considered a memoir, but have rejected that option due to the fact that if I were to write a memoir before I was dead, many people I know would read it and hear me talking about them and make me dead.
So. What should I write about this summer?
I FOUND HIM!
I was at Wal-mart today, buying stuff for the pina colada cake I am making later on today, and HE WAS THERE. His name is Scott, and he's two years older than me (I know that, he doesn't.... hahahaha), and he's still very good-looking.
Me: "I know you."
Him: "Really?"
Me: "I think I've seen you around school."
Him: "Where do you go?"
Me: "Mott."
Him: "I went there earlier this year. Now I go to White Lake."
Me: NOOOOO! "Oh, really?"
Him: "Yeah. Hey, I think I remember you! You're the girl who had the U2 patch!"
Me: "Right!"
Him: "Let me tell you, there is no one in White Lake who's as much fun to have trip over me as you were."
Me: Don't melt. Don't melt. Don't melt.
Him: "I've only find a few people who like stuff like U2."
Me: "Move back." God, Caroline, are you DUMB?
But he only laughs, and I laugh too, because it's all very funny if you think about it (and are there; I have a strong feeling that this whole entry is sort of a "had to be there" type thing). Isn't it nice, running into someone great that you'd completely forgotten about? I woke up today and was sort of bummed out that I was at Wal-mart this early in the morning, and I left, excessively happy that I'd gone.
I like how life works out sometimes.
I FORGOT!
Guess who signed up for driver's ed today for over the summer?
(That'd be this kid)
All About Driving- We'll Steer You The Right Way
Lame? Yes. But such is life... I'd say the benefits outweigh the name.
So I keep seeing all these Blogger blogs that have these nifty little "Previously" features, where the last 5 entries are listed and linked in the sidebar. It seems a little redundant, but then there are a lot of things in my life that are redundant and are still cool.
So I've put a little section in my sidebar. Comments, anyone? Pointless? Cool? Obviously no one's ever going to use it, but it does add a little something, I think. I don't think I'm going to take it down unless someone expresses open and blatant hate.
"Uncle Tim! Look at my pineapple!"
"Is that really a pineapple? It's only like four inches tall!"
"It's a South African Baby Pineapple."
"Well, when are you going to eat it?"
"I dunno... probably Tuesday."
"Caroline! You're killin' me!"
"Why?"
"Because I'm not sure you shouldn't make it into some sort of hat."
I love that man.