Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Wacky Web Pic Wednesday # 12

What is this world coming to? Boy, no one's wasting any time with this poor kid. By three he'll probably speak two lanuages. By seven he will have passed Calculus with the highest grade in his class. And by eleven and 1/2 he will have graduated from Delta and transfering to Biola University.

Ugg. These kinds of kids make me sick...

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Typing While Sleeping

I fell asleep the night before last. Nothing out of the ordinary about that. I normally go to sleep around 11:30 because I stay awake late chatting with people online, writing stuff or doing homework.

Well, two nights ago I went into my room and got ready for bed just like I always do. And then I fell asleep while typing. Sorry to all of you readers who faithfully logged on to ETST to read it. There was no post for you, and I beg your forgiveness. Like my dad says keep short accounts!

There will be a post tomorrow, I promise!

PLEASE forgive me for not posting! I am super sorry! I feel much better now, as I always do.

Friday, October 26, 2007


Since school started, I have been getting up earlier than I ever have throughout my entire life. Although I was never allowed to sleep in during the school week while being homeschooled, I always had a sufficient amount of sleep.

All that changed when I started going to Delta. Currently I'm not getting more than 6 hours of sleep a night which is really cutting back from what I got previously. Mommy G has commented almost everyday that I look extremely tired and should take a nap. (Thanks mom) And even though I wish I could sleep more, it just isn't possible at this point in time.

Last Friday I had the opportunity to sleep in way past the normal time of awakening.

Great, I thought, finally a chance to catch up on some much needed slumber. At least that's what I thought.

On Friday morning I rolled over and glanced at the screen of my bedside clock. It read 6:03. What?! That can't be right! Rolling the other way, I looked at the clock on my computer: 6:03.

Now wide awake, I lay in bed and stared intently at the ceiling. I have never had any trouble sleeping in past 9:30 before. Weird. So I snuggled down under the blankets a little farther and went back to Nigh Night Land.

My eyes popped open and I glanced at the clock. 6:37! Alright, I thought. Enough is enough! Highly perturbed, I snuggled even farther down into the sheets and grumbled to myself. Again, I fell asleep.

The sunlight was doing its best to shine through my shades and tell me it was morning. But after two "false alarms," I didn't ever want to look at the clock again. Well, I thought, I guess that eventually I'll have to look at the clock so it might as well be now. I peaked out from under my cave-like structure I had unknowingly made out of the blankets to see the time. 7:42. How exasperating!

After another hour of off and on slumber, I got up. So at around 8:45 I sat down at my computer and stared at the screen, terribly upset. Why couldn't I just sleep in until I was ready to get going?

Then it dawned on me; I was waking up because I felt like I was "wasting" my precious hours on sleep when I could be doing something productive. My mind and body were ready to get to work whereas I didn't think I was.

I woke up farther immersed in the world of grown-ups than when I had gone to sleep. Not sleeping because you're concerned about school, work you name it always struck me as something that happened to you when you got old! Kind of scary, kind of freaky, but also kind of new and kind of exciting. But however new and exciting, I will be sleeping in tomorrow morning. Zzzzzzzzzzzz......

Note that the above picture is of Sleeping Beauty and not of me. Unfortunately, my hair doesn't look like that after sleeping.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Please don't eat the glue

I have many friends. I go to classes with some, and I see others on Sunday at church. But there is a whole circle of my friends that I see once a week, and don't go to school with. These friends are roughly 42 inches tall and always have a lot of energy. These are my AWANA friends. They are all three or four yearolds.

You see, I work in a children's ministry called AWANA (it is NOT AWANAS as many people, who are confused, call it). AWANA stands for Approved Workmen Are Not Ashamed. When I was a child, I can remember back to when I went to AWANA. It was a highlight of the week. In AWANA children play games, memorize Bible verses, and learn about God. It is a wonderful program. So when I was too old to be in it, I decided to help in it.

This kind of service is truly rewarding. If you don't get along with kids that well, than this kind of service may not be the right one for you.

Kids are funny. They say what they are thinking. They act upon impulse. They can be very entertaining. Now I would like to tell you one of my multiple stories and experiences.

My first year working in Cubbies (the age group I help in) was so exciting. The Directors were low on helpers in that age group so I was quickly assigned to a table. My table had about six or seven kids. I was in charge of listening to their verses, writing their names on the top of their coloring pages, and overall maintaining the peace. It seemed easy enough.......

"So what is your name?" I asked a quiet little boy sitting at my table.

"rraaAAAAAAnnnnntonieeeeee" *through almost closed lips and a tightly clenched jaw*

"I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?"




I must tell you honestly, I had no clue what the, now agitated, kid's name was.

I looked on his name tag and it spelled ANTHONY.

OH, of course!!! It made sense now.

After that we became friends. I think he was happier when I called him by his name. It is a wonderful experience working with little kids. Within a couple weeks you have a strong bond. Two years later he graduated into Kindergarten. I don't see him very much anymore. I only hope I demonstrated God's unfailing love to this little boy.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Wacky Web-Pic Wednesday #11

Wacky Web-Pic Day has rolled (literally) around again and it's time to share with you a strange/freaky/odd/unusual picture from our friend the Internet.

This is an egg. But it isn't just an egg, it's a chocolate egg. Notice that the thing next to the egg is not an action figure: it's a man. Crazy!

I know what I want for Christmas! But seriously, who could ever eat that much chocolate before it went bad? I think I could come close.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

I'm Being Ogled!!!

This post was written after multiple incidents that happened in the same week. Here is an example of one incidence.

My Delta class schedule goes something like this:

Monday-Spanish 001 at 9:00, Finite Math at 11:00 and Human Biology from 5:00-8:00 PM.

Tuesday-Interior Design 002 at 8:30 AM

Wednesday-Spanish 001 at 9:00, Finite Math at 11:00 and Human Bio from 5:00-8:00

Thursday-Interior Design 002 at 8:30 AM

Friday-Spanish 001 at 9:00 and Finite Math at 11:00

Needless to say, I do a lot of walking back and forth to buildings on campus. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday I have a male friend who walks with me to our classes, but on Tuesdays and Thursdays I'm on my own.

While strolling under the beautiful autumn colors one morning, I happened to glance over at a few young guys standing along the pathway. As I passed by them, they smiled and talked strangely amongst themselves while continuing to watch me walk by.

I hurried to my car, quickly got in and paused a moment to think about what had just happened.

I was being ogled! For Pete's sake! Couldn't I just walk to my car in peace?

But why did all of this bother me so much? I hadn't done anything wrong; I had only walked by them. I glanced down at what I was wearing - my regular comfy jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt with a scarf around my neck. Nothing extraordinary about any of it.

Then I understood why I had felt dirty. They had been looking at me for what I could give them and not as a sister in Christ. They had been using me to satisfy their sinful desires, and I did not like that one bit. Brushing past everything that I try to have show, they only wanted one thing.

Since we live in a fallen world, is a warning to both young men and young ladies.

Young men - guard your eyes and don't give into the temptation to keep looking.

Young ladies - dress and act in a way that will encourage and build up the men around you.

As brothers and sisters in Christ, watch out for each other's well-being. By being careful and protecting one another, we are loving on each other. But even helping unbelievers not to stumble by the way we dress, ladies, is showing them that we care more about their minds than being noticed for the wrong reasons.

Romans 12:10 "Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves."

Monday, October 22, 2007

Word of the Week #11

truckle \TRUHK-uhl\, intransitive verb:
1. To yield or bend obsequiously to the will of another; to act in a subservient manner.

"Only where there was a "defiance," a "refusal to truckle," a "distrust of all authority," they believed, would institutions "express human aspirations, not crush them.""
-- Pauline Maier, "A More Perfect Union", New York Times, October 31, 1999

"The son struggled to be obedient to the conventional, commercial values of the father and, at the same time, to maintain his own playful, creative innocence. This conflict could make him truckle in the face of power."
-- Dr. Margaret Brenman-Gibson, quoted in "Theater Friends Recall Life and Works of Odets," by Herbert Mitgang, New York Times, October 30, 1981

"I am convinced that, broadly speaking, the audience must accept the piece on my own terms; that it is fatal to truckle to what one conceives to be popular taste."
-- Sidney Joseph Perelman, quoted in "The Perelman Papers," by Herbert Mitgang, New York Times, March 15, 1981

Truckle is from truckle in truckle bed (a low bed on wheels that may be pushed under another bed; also called a trundle bed), in reference to the fact that the truckle bed on which the pupil slept was rolled under the large bed of the master. The ultimate source of the word is Greek trokhos, "a wheel."

Friday, October 19, 2007

I Was Resting Hard

Couldn't think last night. My brain was too tired to come up with anything witty or even amusing to say; even talking was totally out of the question. I was told to go to bed because I needed to sleep. That sounded like a good enough reason for me. So all that to say, I don't have a very interesting post this morning for you all. :-(

Thursday, October 18, 2007

That's My Sin

The lyrics to this song were sent in an email to me as a reminder of the reason why Christ chose to go to Calvary for us.

When I sin, I drive the nails much deeper.
When I stumble, I make the hammer fall.
When I give in to my pride, I push the spear into his side, and I turn my head as if I never knew Him at all.

That’s my sin you see on the old rugged cross.
That’s my sin He’s wearing on His brow.
He is innocent, and yet He’s paying the cost, ‘cause that’s a battle I could never win.
If you ask what put Him there, that’s my sin.

See the crimson drops as they keep falling.
I’m the one who takes His life away.
Yet, He dies so I can live, saying “Father, please forgive.”
By His love and grace my guilt is gone.
What a price He paid!

That’s my sin you see on the old rugged cross.
That’s my sin He’s wearing on His brow.
He is innocent, and yet He’s paying the cost, ‘cause that’s a battle I could never win.
If you ask what put Him there, that’s my sin.

That’s my sin you see on the old rugged cross.
That’s my sin He’s wearing on His brow.
He is innocent, and yet He’s paying the cost, ‘cause that’s a battle I could never win.
If you ask what put Him there, that’s my sin.

That’s my sin, my sin.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Wacky Web-Pic # 10

That's right, now everyone (who can grow hair) is eligible for travel by hair copter! Order yours today at 1-800-fly-away. Not that we could sell you one, but we can sell you the 500 page long book that explains in perfect detail how to construct this timeless masterpiece!

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

The Frog in Our Drainpipe

He's stuck. I can't remember the last time that went out into the backyard in the evening and didn't hear his familiar voice. He's got to be hungry down there so every once in a while I think another fellow frog tosses down a fly to him.

I was very concerned the other night because I didn't hear him anymore. Frantic, I began shouting things like "hang on, we'll get you out somehow" and "I always wanted you to know that I love you" down the hole. After being pulled away from the hole, I constructed a miniature rope ladder using toothpicks and floss.

I tried to tell "Raymond" that it would be OK, and that I was lowering a rescue line down to him. He didn't answer me. I continued on saying to tug on the rope twice so I could pull him up to safety. He didn't answer.

The rope ladder is still dangling in the drain. Hopefully he escaped and has been joyfully reunited with his amphibious relations, but I have my doubts.

A happy life to you my froggie...

Monday, October 15, 2007

Word of the Week #10

1. a word, line, verse, number, sentence, etc., reading the same backward as forward, as Madam, I'm Adam or Poor Dan is in a droop.

Here are twenty-seven examples of palindromes taken from

Don't nod
Dogma: I am God
Never odd or even
Too bad – I hid a boot
Rats live on no evil star
No trace; not one carton
Was it Eliot's toilet I saw?
Murder for a jar of red rum
May a moody baby doom a yam?
Go hang a salami; I'm a lasagna hog!
A Toyota!
Race fast... safe car: a Toyota
Straw? No, too stupid a fad; I put soot on warts
Are we not drawn onward, we few, drawn onward to new era?
Doc Note: I dissent. A fast never prevents a fatness. I diet on cod
No, it never propagates if I set a gap or prevention
Anne, I vote more cars race Rome to Vienna
Sums are not set as a test on Erasmus
Some men interpret nine memos
Campus Motto: Bottoms up, Mac
Go deliver a dare, vile dog!
Madam, in Eden I'm Adam
Oozy rat in a sanitary zoo
Ah, Satan sees Natasha
Lisa Bonet ate no basil
Do geese see God?
God saw I was dog
Dennis sinned
From Greek palindromos, running back again, recurring : palin, again; see kwel-1 in Indo-European roots + dromos, a running.] pal'in·dro'mic (-drō'mĭk, -drŏm'ĭk) adj.

Friday, October 12, 2007

"No You May Not Poke Me With That!"

The other day, as many of you heard, Spadoodles and I had to have blood taken. Yeah me! Anyway, for those of you who have never heard about my history of swooning (really, it's fainting, but swooning is so much more dramatic) here's a few stories of what has happened in the past when I come within close proximity to blood.

A few years ago I had to get a flu shot in the month of December. I have never enjoyed the process of being immunized, but I have heard that it is necessary. My sisters and I were all in agreement that shots were terrible, and we would not likely survive. Even though I thought it would be awful, I volunteered to go first. I bravely withstood my painless poke, and then the rest of my family followed.

Out in the hallway, I seemed almost giddy but for no apparent reason. Walking behind my parents suddenly took more effort, and I couldn't hear every one's voices very well. They sounded like they may have been shouting something to me from far away. The next thing I knew, Mommy G was bending over me in the women's restroom splashing water in my face.

The next time I "swooned" was while I was at AWANA Camp. After standing in a large field waiting to have our group photo taken for almost 30 minutes, I passed out. That whole ordeal made the camp nurse run across camp!

And my most well-known fainting story has got to be when I went on a field trip to the Butte (notice that its not "butt" but "Butte") Blood Donation Center. One of my friends was deathly afraid of needles so we hung together towards the back. Just when we reached the refrigerators where they store the blood, I started to get lightheaded.

The next thing I remember was that I was looking up at all of my friends' concerned faces. And since recovering from fainting takes a lot longer than just a field trip, everyone knew what had happened before our group got back to the church where we would be picked up.

I now have notes on my medical record of my past "fainting spells" so every time I have anything done to me, I am required to lay down. Just in case...

So when my name was called, I was kind of hoping that something exciting would happen. Maybe I would pass out before I even got into the chair. Or maybe the nurse would totally freak out. Perhaps I would turn a funny color and start rambling on words of nonsense.

But alas, after I seated myself, the nurse quickly swabbed, poked and bandaged my arm before I could have said "I think I'm gonna..." I have another doctors appointment in a few weeks where my physician will evaluate my lab work. If I'm lucky, I may need to have more blood taken.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

The Boxes in My Garage

Last Friday Mommy G asked me to do her a favor. She asked me to climb up on a ladder and pull down the fall/harvest decorations.

One thing you all should know about my family is that my dad and I are the list and organization people. Packing the dishwasher, putting up Christmas lights or even mowing the lawn requires more thought than most humans would care to expend, but that's the way we roll.

My dad and I had carefully and precisely packed up all the decorations last year and stacked them in a very orderly manner. We both made sure that everything is packed snugly so it wouldn't break, and organized and labeled everything to make sure that we could easily find it all next year.

So anyway, being the decorator that I am, I climbed up the stepladder thinking that we would all have a wonderful afternoon putting sentimental trinkets and treasures up around the house. But my hopes of the afternoon started to fade when my mom told me there was only one box I needed to get down.

One box? Only one! For those of you who have not seen the ceiling of our garage (that should be everyone since you can't see it), every inch of available space has been utilized through the installation of hanging shelves. We have boxes and boxes of Christmas stuff, camping stuff, and only one box of fall decorations!

Then I began to think how my family's garage relates to our lives. We save boxes and boxes of mental images, words that people have said that hurt us deeply, bad experiences, disappointments and many other sad things. We very rarely let go of those things and lots of times we only have one box of good and pure things to cherish at the end of our lives when we go back through our "garages."

What kinds of things should we be holding on to and remembering, and what kinds of things should we be letting go of? How many times have I harbored bitterness and anger just because I wanted to hate? Hate is such an ugly word, but it is what we are doing when we nurse our hurts. How many times have we all chosen to allow friendships and relationships to be torn apart by unforgiveness?

Proverbs 18:19 "An offended brother is more unyielding than a fortified city, and disputes are like the barred gates of a citadel."

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Wacky Web-Pic Wednesday #9

Who in the world would choose to live like this?!? That is not only wacky, but it is insane and brainless at the same time. I would normally tell you that I prefer the cooler weather of the fall and winter seasons, but not this type of cold.

Wherever this picture was taken would be the perfect spot for a time out. Other than sticking to the metal time out bench, I don't think you can get much worse than sitting (or huddling) outside in the snow for punishment. Pretty snowflakes but yuck.

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

I'm Sorry

I'm sorry. I needed to say those words. The past couple weeks I have not been posting. It's the truth. Really. I have been slacking. I have been lazy. I have been eating a lot (there is nothing wrong with eating). And so I decided that after my "blog-vacation" I needed to get back in the groove.

What can I say? I have let you, the readers, down (not to mention my beloved fellow author who has been poking me with a cattle prod for the last two weeks). I will try to pick up the pace. So, in honor of a friend of mine, I dedicate this apology to him. "I'm REALLY REALLY sorry will you PLEASE forgive me?" *gets down on knees and flashes a cheesey smile* Anyway, now that I've got that off my chest, is anyone up for ice cream?

Please take note that the previous text was written by me (Spadoodles) and not my dearly beloved fellow author and sister. If you didn't know that we were sisters consider yourself informed. I also hope that someone realized that I wasn't actually posting. Well, you can stop weeping now, I have returned.

*goes to eat some more food*

Monday, October 8, 2007

Word of the Week #9

paroxysm \PAIR-uhk-siz-uhm\, noun:
1. (Medicine) A sudden attack, intensification, or recurrence of a disease.

2. Any sudden and violent emotion or action; an outburst; a fit.

"But when he's on target -- and more often than not he is -- he can send you into paroxysms of laughter."
-- William Triplett, "Drawing Laughter From a Well of Family Pain", Washington Post, June 13, 2002

"Dickens had a paroxysm of rage: 'Bounding up from his chair, and throwing his knife and fork on his plate (which he smashed to atoms), he exclaimed: "Dolby! your infernal caution will be your ruin one of these days!"'"
-- Edmund Wilson, "Dickens: The Two Scrooges", The Atlantic, April/May 1940

"Mrs. Bumble, seeing at a glance that the decisive moment had now arrived, and that a blow struck for mastership on one side or another, must necessarily be final and conclusive, dropped into a chair, and with a loud scream that Mr. Bumble was a hard-hearted brute, fell into a paroxysm of tears."
-- Charles Dickens, Oliver Twist

Paroxysm is from Greek paroxusmos, from paroxunein, "to irritate, provoke or excite (literally to sharpen excessively)," from para-, "beyond" + oxunein, "to sharpen, to provoke."

Friday, October 5, 2007

Dear Curious

This past week, we started the Dear Amelia series where you can send in question for us to answer. After an overwhelming response, I figured it was time to actually answer one.

Dear Amelia,
Is college really as hard as everyone says?

Dear Curious,
After being homeschooled for twelve years, I think that I can safely say that college is different from any other school experience I have ever had. Although I can't say that the work is exceptionally hard, like any other new school year, it does demand a bit more study and perserverence than the previous one.

I believe the reason many college students proclaim that college is difficult is because all of the sudden they actually have to be responsible for themselves. Professors don't care if you miss every lecture and the only action they would take is to eventually drop you from the class.

All of this to say that I don't think the homework is what makes college hard; I think the growing up and being in control of your own life part can be difficult for many people.

But don't concern yourself with what everyone else says about the work. If you know how to read, write and study fairly well going in, you should do fine. ;-)


Thursday, October 4, 2007

Wacky Web-Pic Wednesday #8

Wow. I mean wow. That's crazy. For those of you who still can't figure out why there is an anaconda laying on the floor of this woman's kitchen, let me tell you that's not a reptile; it's hair.

I wonder how long it takes to get ready in the morning when you have hair as long as that. Couldn't be less than 2 hours!

Wednesday, October 3, 2007


I am not posting anything today. Last night at 11:49 I decided that I really needed the 10 minutes of extra sleep I would get if I chose not to write anything.

I just thought that I would warn you all. You probably would have figured it out without the reminder, but hey, I had to tell you something.

Would you look at that. I guess I did write a post after all. ;-)

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

In the Bathroom

Before you are totally repelled by the title of this post, please remember that we (the authors) desire to encourage and uplift our readers through our strange situations. This is a clean story.

My sister and I were so excited. A special trip with our grandma and grandpa had always been coveted by all of the grandchildren, and we were finally on our way. The two hours in the car flew by as the car sped toward the mountains, and my sister and I could think of nothing better than a week spent just relaxing with our grandparents.

Around lunchtime, everyone started to notice the absence of food in the car and our stomachs, and grandma suggested we find somewhere to stop. A small building nestled back into the trees was selected, and as everyone piled out of the car, we all caught a whiff of the barbecued burgers inside.

After sitting for so long, my sister and really needed to use the facilities. You must understand that first of all both my sister and I were quite small at the time, and secondly that it was very unusual for our grandma to let us venture off by ourselves even just to find the bathroom. She was (and is) just that way.

Walking through the restaurant, we both spotted the "restroom" sign off to the left. The bathroom was simple and being the older one, I let my sister go first. After a minute or so, however, I heard the panicked voice my sister say something through the single-stalled bathroom door.

"I can't get the door open. I think that it's stuck."

The door WAS stuck, and no amount of pulling or pushing would make it budge. I tried to pull it open; she tried to push it open. I pulled while she pushed, and eventually after what seemed like hours, the door opened a crack. A few more shoves and heaves and the difficult door swung wide open on its hinges.

I didn't know why no one came to check on us since we were gone so long. I also didn't understand how no one else became trapped in the restroom when they closed the door. As a side note, I didn't have to use the bathroom anymore.

As we both made our way back to the table, our grandparents looked up from studying their menus and smiled at us. When we told them about being stranded in the Lou for hours, they gave us quizzical looks. Come to find out, we were gone for a total of three minutes hence the lack of concern on our grandparents part.

I still don't know why I never thought to run to my grandpa and have him open the door when my own strength was insufficient. God is waiting to help us with our issues if we will only run to Him and ask. His strength is enough, and He will get me through whatever life throws my way. Another thing about our "unsolvable" issues is that they are so small to God, and He can handle them for us. By running to Him daily and giving everything up, He can show us how to live His way.

2 Corinthians 12:9 "But he said to me, ""My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me."

Monday, October 1, 2007

Word of the Week #8

noisome \NOY-sum\, adjective:
1. Noxious; harmful; unwholesome.

2. Offensive to the smell or other senses; disgusting.

"The body politic produces noisome and unseemly substances, among which are politicians."
-- P. J. O'Rourke, "No Apparent Motive", The Atlantic, November 2002

"The first flower to bloom in this latitude, when the winter frost loosens its grip upon the sod, is not the fragrant arbutus, nor the delicate hepatica, nor the waxen bloodroot, as the poets would have us think, but the gross, uncouth, and noisome skunk cabbage."
-- Alvan F. Sanborn, "New York After Paris", The Atlantic, October 1906

"The most dangerous season was after the rice and indigo harvests in August and September when the waters were 'low, stagnant and corrupt' and the air made noisome with indigo plants hauled out of the water and left to rot in the fields."
-- Ronald Rees, "Under the weather: climate and disease, 1700-1900", History Today, January 1996

Noisome is from Middle English noysome, from noy, "harm," short for anoy, from Old French, from anoier, "to annoy."