In Which I am a Creeper

Dear Void,

Today I went to Red Mango with my dear friend Anna and my new acquaintance Bretton. I had a most delicious smoothie, not to mention fantisizing about eating a large bowl of berries; strawberries, blackberries, huckleberries (which admittedly don't mix well,) blueberries, raspberries...

Yum.

But I digress. So. Sitting in Red Mango slurping my smoothie through a straw (I love alitterations) when in walks what I assume was two sisters and a baby in one of those baby-carrier... things. Anyway. They set the baby on the floor (well no, they set the baby carrier on the floor, the baby was inside it not actually on the tiles) and went up to the counter to order. The baby started crying.

Sad baby sounds make me sad.

I walked over to the baby (abandoning my friends) and started making faces at him in order to cheer him up. It didn't help. Somehow (and please don't ask me to explain how, it's one of the great mysteries of the universe) I could tell that what he actually wanted was to be picked up. I called across the room to his mom and aunt, saying,

"Hey, I promise I'm not a kidnapper, can I take him out and see if I can get him to stop crying? I understand if that's not okay." His aunt chuckled and said sure, that was fine.

After struggling with the claspy thing for a minute, I freed baby from his carrier. The minute I picked him up, he stopped crying. He and I took a stroll around the room as I bounced him. He stared at Bretton for like a whole minute. When his mommy (that would be Baby's mommy, not Bretton's) was finished at the counter, I handed baby over to her (with some reluctance.)

The moral of the story? I have GOT to get a baby in my family. I am baby hungry. But it was fun! And that's my story. :)

Over&Out.

In Which I am a Genius

Dear Void,

This is too funny not to post on the internet.

So I was lying in bed, watching Gilmore Girls (as I so often do, such a good life choice) the other night. I finished the last disk of the first season for probably the fourth time (and yet I was still wondering--is she going to say yes?? Watch it. You'll understand.) and, seeing as it wasn't all THAT late, opened my CD/DVD drive (herafter referred to as my DVD drive) to take out the old disk and start the second season.

A horrible thing happened.

It wouldn't close. And if my DVD drive didn't close, there would be no playing of the DVD. And if there was no playing of the DVD there would be...

NO GILMORE GIRLS.

This, my friends, is cause for panic.

I unplugged my computer and DASHED upstairs to ask my sister for help. She was at a loss. So I called my friend Spencer, who is a computer magician (he's been disassembling and reconstructing computers since he was, like, ten, seriously. He knows EVERYTHING about how they work, it's great) and asked him what I should do. He said that a piece inside had probably broken off and that I would need to get it repaired.

In the mean time, there was

NO GILMORE GIRLS.

I'm suprised I didn't cry myself to sleep.

So today I showed my dad on the off chance that he could use his magical Dad powers in order to make the DVD drive spontaneously start closing (and thus working) again. I showed him my newest discovery, that if I flipped the computer around I could hear something rattling inside. In a very childish show of frustration which was probably not very good for Cadvan (that's my computer's name,) I started shaking him (Cadvan, not Dad) like a maraca.

And out fell

a bobby pin.

One of these little guys. My DVD drive starting working just fine again, I think I found the problem. They should probably give me a degree in computer programming!

Bah ha. I'm an embarrassment to my generation!

Over&Out.

In Which I Need a Title.

Dear Void,

I've been thinking a lot about perspective lately. This all snowballed from a massive fight I had with my Blue-eyed-boy-best-friend (as opposed to my Brown-eyed-boy-best-friend, who is an ENTIRELY different person.) We were fighting for two months straight because (in summary) I wanted--needed, really--his attention, and he was giving all of his attention to serving the Lord--technically the worthier cause. Except that I was suffering, and isn't serving the Lord ALL ABOUT helping the suffering? End of Aside. But the other day we were arguing about who was right and all of a sudden I realized something:

WE WERE BOTH RIGHT
and
WE WERE BOTH WRONG.

Craziness. Here's how I figure it:

Blue-eyes: he was shutting me out (the wrong thing) for the right reason (serving the Lord.) He thought that if he pushed me away I would accept the oncoming gap between us, making the seperation easier for us both. Plus he wanted to focus on the Savior. But the truth is that I was more miserable than I have ever been in my life and possibly my most understanding friend wasn't there for me. Wrong choice, right reason.

Me: I was driving him crazy (I only texted him eight... nine... ten times per day...) because I needed attention. I have severe chemical depression (YAY medicine!) and I needed him to be there for me. But I wasn't respecting his choice or his need to focus on Jesus. So... right choice (having my friend in my life,) wrong reason (selfishness.)

And now he's at my house, actually.

Over&Out