Getting the bad stuff out of the way.

There is a fingerprint on my screen bugging me.

Me being dramatic and half-serious after hearing unfortunate news: "My life is doooomed!"
Michelle being awesome in response to my "doomed life": "Maybe you're just getting the bad stuff out of the way now."

Hmm, doesn't seem incredibly profound in this moment but at the time it was spoken I could've written a story about her saying that. I loved it.

Speaking of writing a story, at dinner tonight at Friday's with my parents there was this lady and her son I couldn't help but observe and by the end of the night I probably could've written a story about them. I couldn't help but wonder where they had come from and what they were like. I mean, they were sitting at the table next to us, it's not like I'm the creepy girl watching you from across the room. Oh, no. I really hope I'm not that girl. Anyway, it was just her and her son, and they split something. The boy looked incredibly tired but endlessly cute, and while waiting for the food, she was very persistant in scratching off her several lottery tickets. During a dull point in my table's conversation I glanced over to look at the cute sleepy boy and she turned to face me and gave me a look that said to me, "Why must you intrude you curious stranger" or "mind your own business" or something of that sort, you understand. So then she proceeds to hunch her shoulder over her lottery ticket like I was going to read it from ten feet away or steal it and run away, etc. It was just odd and got my brain going. For the second time already in this entry I really think you had to be there to fully understand where I'm going with this. It sounds dreadfully normal but something about them made me want to either seriously ask them what they were up to (besides the obvious, waiting for their food) or just make up possibilities for their actions. I definitely chose the latter in an effort not to be kicked out of Friday's by scaring them. I spare you the rest. Okkaaaay, anyways.

I learned this today: TI-83 Plus' are amazingly strong. They can withstand pretty much any unintentional abuse you can accidentally give out. I've pretty much given it a reckless life. I realized this today when I accidentally sat on it (don't ask...) for awhile and it was cool as a cucumber. Now, I'm sure you could destroy it quite easily were it on purpose, but that stays true for most things. I'm not entirely sure that any motive for purposely destroying a graphing calculator is one I would like to explore, and if you've had a strong urge to destroy a graphing calculator for reasons other than hating math on occasion, then I'm not sure I find it neccessary to hear your motives. So please, keep them to yourself, and I beg of you to reconsider because the TI-83 is your friend.

If you haven't read any Don Miller please close the internet and do so. I promise you it will be well worth it and you will thank me. Actually, you'll probably want to thank Don Miller because I don't have anything to do with his greatness other than telling the masses through blog that he's a keeper.

Deep inside I love a clean room so much that it could probably be considered unhealthy. However, my room is in this constant state of mess, like a tornado just passed through. How is it that I clean my room so often only to trash it less than a day later. No, really, I'd like to know how this happens.

Harsh cold wind is pretty much just as good as an exfoliator as anything you could buy.

The Redwalls are good. Old sounding. If you listen to "Colorful Revolution" you should take note that he clearly says the words "honky tonk" and I think it's the first time I've felt fond of those words. Any one who can make honky tonk sound cool is going places. My opinion and I'm sticking to it.