While driving at night...
Girl: Careful, there's an animal up there
Boy: I don't see anything
Girl: Really, I see one. See, right there.
Boy: I still don't see anything.
Girl: I just stopped you from having a dead cat on your hands.
Boy: I wouldn't have it on my hands. It would be on the road.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head
I hate lightning and thunder. Currently, the sounds of rumbles and cracks rattle the windowpanes. Wicked flashes of white light tremble through the black sky and illuminate the slapping maple leaves. Usually, I can't wait for thunderstorms to be over, but tonight, it suits me.
When I was probably twelve, we were having a terrible thunderstorm. I was already petrified of them since my 5th grade teacher had told us a story of getting struck by lightning through a window. I had also watched Twister, and I was convinced that every lightning and thunderstorm most likely ended in a tornado. That black night, I was lying in bed, listening in agony to the roars outside. Frantically, I counted the seconds from flash to boom, getting more nervous as the time in between got smaller and smaller. Suddenly, whiteness illuminated my entire room and a deafening clap shook my bedposts. I knew I was dead.
The large maple tree whose branches tapped my window had been struck. Shaking, I ran into Mom's and Dad's room to spend the rest of the night in sleepless horror. Any second the roof would be gone..leaving us all helpless to the inevitable tornado's whirling power. As a child, my imagination could be my best friend or worst enemy.
I have been driving endlessly delivering cherry juice to Wegmans...and I feel absolutely worn out. When I have an audio book to listen to, it makes the ride so much more enjoyable..but since I am not a residence of Geneva, I'm not allowed to check anything out..thus, I can only listen to the audio books I buy. I only have two- and neither are very good, I look forward to getting more when they go on sale. However, I know I'll never listen to them again, so it seems kind of like a waste of money.
Tonight I feel sore all over. I took a class called "BODY PUMP" at the YMCA in Geneva...and that was what did it. I stood in the back of the class, hoping to be as inconspicuous as possible. Instead, the instructor spotted me right away as the "new girl" and asked me to join her in the front. Any hopes for slacking off, shattered, I made my way to the front of the room. We did a rigorous two hour workout using weights, stretch bands, jump ropes, squats and steps- I actually sweated. Beads of dripping sweat (I normally just get a healthy glisten and blotchy red skin).
Anyways, at the front of the class, I felt the need to really impress my peers. I would stretch my legs like I've never stretched before (and probably never will again), and I squatted better, lifted better and stepped better than anyone else in that whole dang room. And now I have to pay for my vanity and pride with a stiff, bowlegged walk and spontaneous moaning (did that come from me?) whenever I sit down, stand up or heavens forbid- climb the stairs.
My life is a wreck.
When I was probably twelve, we were having a terrible thunderstorm. I was already petrified of them since my 5th grade teacher had told us a story of getting struck by lightning through a window. I had also watched Twister, and I was convinced that every lightning and thunderstorm most likely ended in a tornado. That black night, I was lying in bed, listening in agony to the roars outside. Frantically, I counted the seconds from flash to boom, getting more nervous as the time in between got smaller and smaller. Suddenly, whiteness illuminated my entire room and a deafening clap shook my bedposts. I knew I was dead.
The large maple tree whose branches tapped my window had been struck. Shaking, I ran into Mom's and Dad's room to spend the rest of the night in sleepless horror. Any second the roof would be gone..leaving us all helpless to the inevitable tornado's whirling power. As a child, my imagination could be my best friend or worst enemy.
I have been driving endlessly delivering cherry juice to Wegmans...and I feel absolutely worn out. When I have an audio book to listen to, it makes the ride so much more enjoyable..but since I am not a residence of Geneva, I'm not allowed to check anything out..thus, I can only listen to the audio books I buy. I only have two- and neither are very good, I look forward to getting more when they go on sale. However, I know I'll never listen to them again, so it seems kind of like a waste of money.
Tonight I feel sore all over. I took a class called "BODY PUMP" at the YMCA in Geneva...and that was what did it. I stood in the back of the class, hoping to be as inconspicuous as possible. Instead, the instructor spotted me right away as the "new girl" and asked me to join her in the front. Any hopes for slacking off, shattered, I made my way to the front of the room. We did a rigorous two hour workout using weights, stretch bands, jump ropes, squats and steps- I actually sweated. Beads of dripping sweat (I normally just get a healthy glisten and blotchy red skin).
Anyways, at the front of the class, I felt the need to really impress my peers. I would stretch my legs like I've never stretched before (and probably never will again), and I squatted better, lifted better and stepped better than anyone else in that whole dang room. And now I have to pay for my vanity and pride with a stiff, bowlegged walk and spontaneous moaning (did that come from me?) whenever I sit down, stand up or heavens forbid- climb the stairs.
My life is a wreck.
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