• Apr. 16, 2008
My Theory
I have a theory that Goodwill buys the clothes that they put in their store window. The stuff in the window is always the newest style and is in really good shape. Like one time my mom and I happened to be driving by and I saw a new South Pole jacket hanging in the window. And if you know anything about what’s in style you’ll know that South Pole is in. (Not that I know much, but all you have to do is look around the stores and see what cost the most and what there’s a bunch of). Anyway, if somebody has something like that they’re most likely not going to be giving it up to Goodwill. If it were too small they’d probably give it to a good friend.
If you look in any of the Goodwill stores you won’t find something that nice. The stuff in there is Faded Glory stone-washed mom jeans, worn down raggedy stank shoes, 30 year old flannel shirts, lice infested headbands, grungy wedding dresses, big ginormous boxes of greasy looking curtains and sheets, and don’t forget those crocheted vests and old snotty handkerchiefs. Why don’t they ever those in the window?
Sometimes you might find something decent in Goodwill, but it’s not likely.
And that’s why I think that Goodwill buys clothes to put in their window.
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• Mar. 31, 2008
Jamaica!
I am so excited!!! My aunt, some other people, and I are going on a mission trip to Jamaica. We will be there for two weeks doing a bunch of two day VBS’s. I’m really looking forward to trying some fresh fruit and some Jamaican food. My mom says that I need to bring her back some coffee, that’s something else I want to try. Ummm!
I am also excited about the trip over there too. Because I have only ridden in a small plane but not a big jet plane.
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• Mar. 21, 2008
Wow!
Wow! You’re probably thinking “ Dang! What’s wrong with you?” Well I’ll answer that for you. Plenty of things are wrong with me. These pictures are just a small sample of what I can be like. Everybody agrees that I’m pretty much a mini me of my Mom. You can ask any of my family or friends. My Mom also says that I remind her of my Aunt Garlic when she was a kid. I do have to admit that I am a big goof. Like taking dorky pictures of myself when I’m bored. Boy! Am I glad for the invention of the digital camera so I can take stupid pictures for fun. I have to mention that my hair is not normally like any of the pictures except for maybe the second to the last one. (When I’m at home).
You are probably wondering why I have a couple of wig pictures, one Golden Mullet and two, Blond Afro. It’s a Christmas tradition. It all started when my Mom and I were at Wall-mart right after Halloween when all of the wigs were on sale. When my Mom saw this she thought it would be funny if she got a crazy wig to put in my aunt’s stocking. But instead of finding one for my aunt she found one for my grandma. The wig looked like my grandma’s hair when she was in high school. It was even red!
When came Christmas Eve we all went over to Aunt Bagel’s house. Then when it was time to do the stockings Mom had stuffed the wig in Grandma’s stocking. Grandma looked through hers and when she took out the wig she began to laugh, and when everybody turned to see what she was laughing. They saw her with her old hair on. Then everybody wanted to try it on. Since then every year Mom has gets a wig for a different person in the family.
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• Mar. 20, 2008
Whoops!
Saturday night I played harp in a concert, and I managed to play pretty well. The first song I played perfectly, and here’s how… by writing things on my forehead. I know you’re probably thinking “ You write things on your forehead? What does that do for you?” Well I don’t do it with a pen, if that’s what your thinking. I simply make notes in my head to remember something. Like say I tell myself to make sure I play this note and not this other one instead. I had never had this happen until I was in the middle of playing. When I remembered what I had told myself, at that moment I saw back behind my forehead a piece of paper that told me what note was correct. It wasn’t like music paper it was just a piece of lined paper that had everything spelled out in cursive. Weird huh?
After I had played, I did my little bow thing. I looked all sophisticated, but the truth came out when I went to exit the stage, and that truth is that I’m one of the biggest dorks there is and ever was. Well except for maybe my Aunt Garlic. Anyway, this how it happened….. The guys that moved the harp for me had put it in front of the curtain. So when I exited the stage I went in front of the curtain instead of behind. I didn’t even realize at the time that I was in front of the very front curtain because there’s a bunch of different curtains on that stage. At the end of the curtain there was this really tight screen of fabric that had little space between it and the wall, it was attached to the floor and the ceiling so it wasn’t like it could move. And I knew unless I went back out to the stage I had to squeeze myself through this tiny space and I didn’t really want to go back so that everyone could see I’m the biggest dork, so I went forward. I tripped over a few chairs and who knows what in the process. I managed to get out of the tight squeeze thinking that no one had seen me. When, from the corner across the room a voice said, “ Yeah, careful there’s chairs over there.” It was one of the sound girls. I thought, “Oh well thanks. It’s a little late for that but oh well.”
So, see, I might look normal out on stage but I’m not.
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• Dec. 4, 2007
Dr. Eviltooth and my grills
Blue = nice talk
Red = Evil yelling
I had to go to the orthodontist the other day. Now you’re probably thinking, “ Okay so what’s the big deal you went to the orthodontist”? The first thing is I got my grills last Monday (braces) I know you probably thought “What! you got grills? The second thing is, he has a toupee, and he has glue that sticks out under his “hair” (I am not kidding) 2 inches from his head. So when he bends over you to look at your teeth you can see it and it’s kind of disgusting. I told my Mom that I think he has a toupee to hide his horns. Sunday one of my friends asked me if Dr. Eviltooth picked out the colors on my grills for me and I said, “No if he did he probably would pick like black and red”.
Also when you are holding your mouth open as wide as you can so he can stuff his fat fingers in your mouth. You get yelled at by him, like this. “ OPEN! OPEN! WHEN I SAY OPEN YOU TO OPEN! WHEN YOU DON’T OPEN I CAN’T SEE WHAT I’M DOING, AND IF YOU DON’T OPEN I MIGHT PULL ONE OR MORE OF YOUR TEETH OUT.” Just because he can’t fit his big fat fingers in your mouth and see in there at the same time, he yells at you. Then when I was getting one of my spacers adjusted, I groaned a little bit. And what did he say? “OH I WISH KIDS WOULD STOP ACTING LIKE IT HURTSYOU HAVEN’T FELT NOTHING YET” The first thing I thought was, “Whoa there buddy I think you need to chill out! First of all you’re not the one being banged on. And second of all you want know what I’m tired of? You yelling in my ear!” I seriously don’t think he has ever had any thing put in his mouth to straighten his teeth. For one: He doesn’t seem to know how painful it is. Two: His teeth are not straight.
And get this, it just so happened that his granddaughter was in there getting her teeth fixed the same time I was, and Dr. Eviltooth had to use the tool that everybody hates which is the hammer. And what did he say when he had to use it on her? “Oh Ellie I’m sorry that I have to do this to you but we’re going to have to do a little tapping.” Then he barely touches her teeth with the hammer. With the rest of us he bangs as hard as he can. Sometimes even misses our teeth and hits our gums with it. Ouch! But anyway that’s Eviltooth for you and I might have another story for you later because I still have to deal with him.
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• Nov. 5, 2007
Cinderella and the Glass Skates
Mom and I went yard saling on Sunday during the Bridge fest and there was a lot of traffic. Then we headed for the hills and took the back roads, and we came to this fork in the road. Mom turned towards me and said “Should we go straight to Bridgeton or take the longer way around on Rosedale road”? “Well how about lets go on Rosedale road maybe we’ll find more yard sales that way.”
We went that way and we had been driving for a long time when I spotted a yard sale sign. I got all excited and we turned in the driveway (it was kind of a hidden drive so we couldn’t see what it had until we were right there.) My heart started to sink when I saw that it was a bunch of middle-aged men and two year old girl stuff. I said to mom “It looks like a bunch of crap” but Mom said “Let’s see any way.” Reluctantly I did.
As I was digging through all that junk, I just so happened to look over and saw THE SKATES! I had wanted skates for a real long time. Not roller blades but skates. Mom was on the other side of the yard sale, so I squeaked (because I was very excited and I could not talk plainly) “Mommy, Mommy look! What size are they?” I asked. “7,” Mom told me. With that I felt like my heart shriveled and turned black like a prune. “Try them on anyway,” she said. “Okay,” I replied. So I loosened the laces like a roller skating Cinderella trying on a glass skate, and once I got them on I got all excited. “They fit!” I exclaimed. “Yeah, maybe they are men’s,” Mom said. “And hey look everything is half off that means they’ll only be $2.50!,” I cried. “Do you want them?” Mom asked jokingly, because she knew I was about to pee my pants in excitement. “Yes!” I squealed.
So I and Skate Charming lived happily ever after.
~The End~
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• Oct. 13, 2007
The story of pie legs
Ok now you can find out what the phrase “pie legs” came from. Well it all started when my mom and I, along with Aunt Garlic, came over to Bagel Aunt’s house. She was talking about how when she first saw the word Pilates she thought that it was pronounced “pie lates.” I, of course, thought that she said pie legs and started busting out laughing.
Now that I think about it pie legs makes perfect sense for our family. WE ALL LOVE PIE! 
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• Oct. 2, 2007
What's the Point?
Gameboys, I just think they’re stupid. I really don’t get the point in them. I mean I’d be talking to my friend about completely different stuff that had nothing at all to do with electronics. When all of a sudden she says. “Hey! Guess what!” “What?” “When I spent 3 hours on my Gameboy yesterday I got to level 4 in catz.” Huh? Is that some French nickname for a little Indian boy? I mean come on how am I supposed to know? I spend most of my extra time outside or reading I really don’t get the point in them. I think they rot your brain out. And when I’d go over to my other friend’s house, when I get there he’s consumed in his Gameboy and doesn’t even notice me. I look over his shoulder and he’s playing some sort of game where he’s in some giant walking robot thing chasing a giant lizard that is going a (whole lot faster) and crushing buildings. What is he doing? Trying to kill Godzilla? Like I said how am I supposed to know ‘cause I don’t have a Gameboy.
Anyway I think that gameboys make kids crabby like my cousin, for instance. When she first got her gameboy she’d play it some. Then teach her little sister how to play it. Which was fine, until she let her play it too much. It got to the point that that when my cousin touched her Gameboy, her sister would go ballistic. She just can’t bear to see my cousin touch her own Gameboy. I think they’re addictive. Yeah, every once in a while I like to play a game on the computer, BUT NOT CONSTANTLY! Anyway like I’ve said before I don’t get the point in them.
