Ok so I finally have my schedule cause I dropped AP Econ and the school decided to ignore me so I had to go and get it fixed. For a while I didn't think I was going to have a lunch first semester, but I did. That makes me pretty happy. Anyways...
1. Lab/study hall
2. AP Bio
3. Spanish 5
4. AP Lit
5. gym
6. AP Calc
7. LUNCH! (finally, doesn't my morning suck?)
8. Honors Econ
9. Chorus
Leave a message on my IM or leave a comment if you have a class with me....I don't remember who all I have classes with...
I know, this post sucked, but this blog is pretty much dead anyways. But if something relatively exciting happens, you know I'll at least think about posting it.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Monday, May 29, 2006
And I found myself sitting on two (one neon yellow and one neon pink) four dollar intertubes around a fire ring with no fire in it, humming absentmindedly along with "Funky Town," staring at a grey golf cart with flames on it with the inscription "It's Ducky Time!" written along the back end, in a place called Little Mexico, wondering how I got myself here.
We Parks like our little share of the country. We'll go camping every couple times a summer and have rootin'-tootin' good time. Little Mexico, however, is one experience that I will never duplicate. The place is is central PA, ok? The first thing you see when you pull onto Little Mexico Road (oh no, I'm not kidding, that's the road's real name) is a huge pen with, I'm not even joking, two emu/ostrich type things and a bull or a bison with huge horns (no one knew what it was) right next to a huge buchering store. Ironic, no? Other than that, the place looks pretty average, a lot of happy campers out for a long Memorial Day weekend with very limited technology (I was tethered to my cell phone with no bars hoping for reception the entire time) but they're ok with that.
The real charm of Little Mexico lies not with the bison, or emu, or even the sheep which look like they haven't been shaved for over a year which baa back if you baa at it (yeah, I was really bored.), but with what I shall lovingly call the Beerbelly-Mullet-Redneck-Die-Hard-Horseshoe Competition. As I sorta mentioned, there is very little to do while camping, other than rafting down the river in four dollar intertubes and walking back (which I did for about an hour), eating, sit by the fire, play Pinocle, play Sequence, eat more, and clean up. Needless to say, me and Aimee were super-bored (see sheep comment...), so when my dad and Steve, the other family's dad, whos family we were camping with, went to participate in a horseshoe tornament, we went over to cheer them on.
There were eleven teams of two and spectators (I never thought I'd see the day when there were two horseshoe pits with freaking bleachers next to it so people could watch. But I did. My dad's team was #9 so we had to wait a while. In the waiting time, we were amazed by all the strange assortment of people there. Having a beer belly seemed to be a requisite. Other than that, there was: a dyed mullet, an old man wearing a Confederate flag hat (central PA, people, it seemed weird to me), many shirtless guys, all with beer bellies, of course, and all were rednecks. Now, I'm not trying to be mean, because they were nice, except when we cheered for my dad and Steve because no one else was cheering for anyone they told us we were too loud...or maybe they were just annoyed because my dad and Steve were winning. Either way, it was a strange assortment of people. So we sat there for three hours, watching as my dad and Steve played a total of three games, and in the meantime, went for many a B-double E-double R-U-N, beerrun. In total, we figured that we brought my dad eight beers, while we brought Steve 12 (he was on his 7th when we started bringing him some. Then other people gave him some, and once the competition was done he had more. We thought he had somewhere between 20-30 beers. He was pretty smashed.)
So after the three hours of sitting out in 80 degree weather, me and Aimee were really burnt. So we demanded money for being faithful cheerleaders so we could go to Rita's. Being as we were the only ones with a licence who wasn't totally smashed, we were sent on various other errands too. When we got back, fully five hours after the competition started, we were told that the men just finished. They came in second and got nothin'. If they had won, they would have gotten a grand total of $24. Steve had nearly drank more beers than that.
Other than that, most of the weekend consisted of drunk adults (my dad actually said to Aimee,while playing a card game, who was jumping around because she was going to win, "Calm down! What are you doing, about to orgasm?" Yeah, that was good.), card games, bug bites, and being just all-around gross. Actually, more things did happen, like the time when I was getting out of the river from laying in my intertube for a long time into knee-high sinking mud where I lost a flip-flip. But that's a different story for a different time.
(P.S. I think I've made a record for having a blog this long and not making an entry...)
We Parks like our little share of the country. We'll go camping every couple times a summer and have rootin'-tootin' good time. Little Mexico, however, is one experience that I will never duplicate. The place is is central PA, ok? The first thing you see when you pull onto Little Mexico Road (oh no, I'm not kidding, that's the road's real name) is a huge pen with, I'm not even joking, two emu/ostrich type things and a bull or a bison with huge horns (no one knew what it was) right next to a huge buchering store. Ironic, no? Other than that, the place looks pretty average, a lot of happy campers out for a long Memorial Day weekend with very limited technology (I was tethered to my cell phone with no bars hoping for reception the entire time) but they're ok with that.
The real charm of Little Mexico lies not with the bison, or emu, or even the sheep which look like they haven't been shaved for over a year which baa back if you baa at it (yeah, I was really bored.), but with what I shall lovingly call the Beerbelly-Mullet-Redneck-Die-Hard-Horseshoe Competition. As I sorta mentioned, there is very little to do while camping, other than rafting down the river in four dollar intertubes and walking back (which I did for about an hour), eating, sit by the fire, play Pinocle, play Sequence, eat more, and clean up. Needless to say, me and Aimee were super-bored (see sheep comment...), so when my dad and Steve, the other family's dad, whos family we were camping with, went to participate in a horseshoe tornament, we went over to cheer them on.
There were eleven teams of two and spectators (I never thought I'd see the day when there were two horseshoe pits with freaking bleachers next to it so people could watch. But I did. My dad's team was #9 so we had to wait a while. In the waiting time, we were amazed by all the strange assortment of people there. Having a beer belly seemed to be a requisite. Other than that, there was: a dyed mullet, an old man wearing a Confederate flag hat (central PA, people, it seemed weird to me), many shirtless guys, all with beer bellies, of course, and all were rednecks. Now, I'm not trying to be mean, because they were nice, except when we cheered for my dad and Steve because no one else was cheering for anyone they told us we were too loud...or maybe they were just annoyed because my dad and Steve were winning. Either way, it was a strange assortment of people. So we sat there for three hours, watching as my dad and Steve played a total of three games, and in the meantime, went for many a B-double E-double R-U-N, beerrun. In total, we figured that we brought my dad eight beers, while we brought Steve 12 (he was on his 7th when we started bringing him some. Then other people gave him some, and once the competition was done he had more. We thought he had somewhere between 20-30 beers. He was pretty smashed.)
So after the three hours of sitting out in 80 degree weather, me and Aimee were really burnt. So we demanded money for being faithful cheerleaders so we could go to Rita's. Being as we were the only ones with a licence who wasn't totally smashed, we were sent on various other errands too. When we got back, fully five hours after the competition started, we were told that the men just finished. They came in second and got nothin'. If they had won, they would have gotten a grand total of $24. Steve had nearly drank more beers than that.
Other than that, most of the weekend consisted of drunk adults (my dad actually said to Aimee,while playing a card game, who was jumping around because she was going to win, "Calm down! What are you doing, about to orgasm?" Yeah, that was good.), card games, bug bites, and being just all-around gross. Actually, more things did happen, like the time when I was getting out of the river from laying in my intertube for a long time into knee-high sinking mud where I lost a flip-flip. But that's a different story for a different time.
(P.S. I think I've made a record for having a blog this long and not making an entry...)
Friday, January 13, 2006
Friday the 13th
So, a new post! It only took me, what, 20 days to the day? Wow, good one Alex! You can tell when you need to update your blog more (not that anyone is really a devout reader here) when you type in the website link in and the little box underneath it doesn't come up with the rest of the link when you're halfway through typing it like all your favorite sites do, like my e-mail and lame icon sights because I constantly need a new icon for AIM...I'm just weird like that.
Anyways, it's Friday the 13th ladies and gents! My personal favorite day in the 'weird days' category; like Groundhog Day, and Makeout Day, and Hamburger Day (which I don't know is actually a day but I bet it is), and you get the picture. I seriously love this day because while everyone else believes that today is the day most likely to die, fall down the steps, break a leg, arm, vase, etc, I consider this day lucky. And, no, I'm not just trying to be one of those 'I'm different from everyone else because I reject people!' sort of folks, I just like the day. Proof is that today in Lit, I won Vocabulary Bingo. I know, I know, 'So what?' you're thinking. But wait, it gets better. Not only did I win Vocabulary Bingo, I won Vocabulary Bingo...TWICE! Ooh la la. I did not end up winning the signed Hines Ward jersey, though...which is a pity because he definitely rocks my socks.
But this post will get better though, I promise. While we're on the subject of the Steelers, you know how Big Ben Roethlisberger's called that like that big clock tower in London is called the Big Ben, right? One of our Vocabulary words was allusion and one of the examples was Big Ben the man and the clock. Up until that point I honestly thought he's called that because he's a big dude, right? Like Big Ben, Little Alex? I seriously thought that. Then it made sense. I was one of those kids that do the loud, "Ooohh!" in the middle of class for no apparent reason except something just clicked. But this is when the story gets good (and if you don't like this one there's another one that should be better, but I royally suck at storytelling so maybe not). So last night at work, this guy came in with this huge duffel bag of Steeler stuff. T-shirts, blankets, hats, watches, flags, the list went on and on. And because it wasn't 'official NFL' wear it was super cheap. I bought a T-shirt for $5, and when you only have $6 total, that is a very good bargain. So I bought this shirt (I had no choice; all the rest were adult XL and L, and I barely fit into an adult small, this one was a kid size 14) that's black and it says 'Big Ben' and there's a picture of Big Ben the guy and Big Ben the clock and some of the city of London and it says on the bottom 'The time is now.' Clock, time, Big Ben. Get it? I felt pretty good that I actually understood the shirt before I bought it thanks to normally useless vocabulary.
And then, this morning, my bedroom is right across the hall from the bathroom. My dog's cage is in my bedroom, ok? Just to get the scene set. So I have the radio on in my room with my usual morning wake-up music (either a mix or My Chemical Romance currently) and I leave the room, turn off the light and shut the door so I can brush my teeth, right across the hall. My mum comes out of her bedroom and said, "Um, Alex? You realize that you left your radio on, turned off the light, and locked your dog in your room in the dark?" My dog was sleeping in her cage when I had left. My mum opened my door and gave me a mean look.
"Well, I did know about the radio because I'm just going to brush my teeth, I'll be right back, but no, about Lana, I didn't know. Sorry."
"Alex, let me tell you a story."
"Alrighty then."
"So my friend has a two-year-old, and you know how toddlers don't speak all that well right?"
"Uh-huhh..." I replied wondering where this was going.
"Well, his favorite toy is a dump truck. Except he cant exactly say dump truck. What he says is dumb f***." Ok, so I don't think I'm allowed to actually say what she said online but it rhymes with truck and starts with an f. Got it? Even I can figure this out, y'all (with all this 60 degree weather we're having, I'm an honorary red neck. Yee-haw.).
Ok anyways, my mom goes, "Alex, that's what you're being right now."
Oooouch. Like she was just kidding, but who wants to be called a dumb f***? Even less by your mom! I felt kind of bad about myself. But I still thought it was funny too. That's just the sort of messed up person I really am. So I told all my friends about what happened and they laughed and told me I was hilarious, and asked why this sort of crazy shit happened to me. 'Who else would it happen to?' is all I could say. And then we have to do comments(stand up in front of the class and say something...pretty much anything actually) in my Lit class and they all thought it was pretty funny too. So either I am really funny (someone even told me I should go into stand up. Right. They've never read my el suck-o blog-o) or people pity my life.
But that is my post for today and I'm wearing the Big Ben shirt that I understand and am cheering them on on Sunday (I know you will be too)...oh, yeah, someone came to school today with a Colts jersey on. Do they really want to get their ass kicked? Seriously, when in Rome do as the Romans do. And if you want to stay alive, cheer no one but the Black and Gold.
And we have a three day weekend and I only have to work Sunday night in all four nights which makes me pretty happy. But I've spent enough useless time of your life filling you up with stories that you didn't want to know already.
I would think of some clever thing to say in Espanol, but that would require being clever, which I'm sort of lacking in that area.
Anyways, it's Friday the 13th ladies and gents! My personal favorite day in the 'weird days' category; like Groundhog Day, and Makeout Day, and Hamburger Day (which I don't know is actually a day but I bet it is), and you get the picture. I seriously love this day because while everyone else believes that today is the day most likely to die, fall down the steps, break a leg, arm, vase, etc, I consider this day lucky. And, no, I'm not just trying to be one of those 'I'm different from everyone else because I reject people!' sort of folks, I just like the day. Proof is that today in Lit, I won Vocabulary Bingo. I know, I know, 'So what?' you're thinking. But wait, it gets better. Not only did I win Vocabulary Bingo, I won Vocabulary Bingo...TWICE! Ooh la la. I did not end up winning the signed Hines Ward jersey, though...which is a pity because he definitely rocks my socks.
But this post will get better though, I promise. While we're on the subject of the Steelers, you know how Big Ben Roethlisberger's called that like that big clock tower in London is called the Big Ben, right? One of our Vocabulary words was allusion and one of the examples was Big Ben the man and the clock. Up until that point I honestly thought he's called that because he's a big dude, right? Like Big Ben, Little Alex? I seriously thought that. Then it made sense. I was one of those kids that do the loud, "Ooohh!" in the middle of class for no apparent reason except something just clicked. But this is when the story gets good (and if you don't like this one there's another one that should be better, but I royally suck at storytelling so maybe not). So last night at work, this guy came in with this huge duffel bag of Steeler stuff. T-shirts, blankets, hats, watches, flags, the list went on and on. And because it wasn't 'official NFL' wear it was super cheap. I bought a T-shirt for $5, and when you only have $6 total, that is a very good bargain. So I bought this shirt (I had no choice; all the rest were adult XL and L, and I barely fit into an adult small, this one was a kid size 14) that's black and it says 'Big Ben' and there's a picture of Big Ben the guy and Big Ben the clock and some of the city of London and it says on the bottom 'The time is now.' Clock, time, Big Ben. Get it? I felt pretty good that I actually understood the shirt before I bought it thanks to normally useless vocabulary.
And then, this morning, my bedroom is right across the hall from the bathroom. My dog's cage is in my bedroom, ok? Just to get the scene set. So I have the radio on in my room with my usual morning wake-up music (either a mix or My Chemical Romance currently) and I leave the room, turn off the light and shut the door so I can brush my teeth, right across the hall. My mum comes out of her bedroom and said, "Um, Alex? You realize that you left your radio on, turned off the light, and locked your dog in your room in the dark?" My dog was sleeping in her cage when I had left. My mum opened my door and gave me a mean look.
"Well, I did know about the radio because I'm just going to brush my teeth, I'll be right back, but no, about Lana, I didn't know. Sorry."
"Alex, let me tell you a story."
"Alrighty then."
"So my friend has a two-year-old, and you know how toddlers don't speak all that well right?"
"Uh-huhh..." I replied wondering where this was going.
"Well, his favorite toy is a dump truck. Except he cant exactly say dump truck. What he says is dumb f***." Ok, so I don't think I'm allowed to actually say what she said online but it rhymes with truck and starts with an f. Got it? Even I can figure this out, y'all (with all this 60 degree weather we're having, I'm an honorary red neck. Yee-haw.).
Ok anyways, my mom goes, "Alex, that's what you're being right now."
Oooouch. Like she was just kidding, but who wants to be called a dumb f***? Even less by your mom! I felt kind of bad about myself. But I still thought it was funny too. That's just the sort of messed up person I really am. So I told all my friends about what happened and they laughed and told me I was hilarious, and asked why this sort of crazy shit happened to me. 'Who else would it happen to?' is all I could say. And then we have to do comments(stand up in front of the class and say something...pretty much anything actually) in my Lit class and they all thought it was pretty funny too. So either I am really funny (someone even told me I should go into stand up. Right. They've never read my el suck-o blog-o) or people pity my life.
But that is my post for today and I'm wearing the Big Ben shirt that I understand and am cheering them on on Sunday (I know you will be too)...oh, yeah, someone came to school today with a Colts jersey on. Do they really want to get their ass kicked? Seriously, when in Rome do as the Romans do. And if you want to stay alive, cheer no one but the Black and Gold.
And we have a three day weekend and I only have to work Sunday night in all four nights which makes me pretty happy. But I've spent enough useless time of your life filling you up with stories that you didn't want to know already.
I would think of some clever thing to say in Espanol, but that would require being clever, which I'm sort of lacking in that area.
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