Tumor?

My dad talks baby talk to Tank. He's all. "Hey Tanky! Come here my little guy! My little man!" It's funny and a little disconcerting.

I have this issue where I'm running. Into doors and walls. Like I'm coming out of the bathroom that and wham I hit the doorframe. Today I ran into a wall at work. Like a full out wall. Not a corner, not a doorway, a straight out wall. I don't know why. I don't know how. It just happens. It's been happenING. As in plural.

Maybe I have a tumor.

Over.

Why?

Who ever came up with the idea of a blog? And why do you people read mine? I'm a pretty boring person. Like seriously. Painfully boring. Like yanking off a nose strip.

A total stranger approached me at a gas station outside of York and asked to hold Tank, talking in that baby voice that people use with babies and cute animalls. Slightly disconcerting. I'm scared someone is going try to steal him. Also he had his first bath today. IT WAS CERY TRAUMATIC FOR EVERYONE INVOLVED. But then grandma put a towel in the dryer for him and he fell asleep for like five hours. He's such a little wimp.

Over.

The kid's a menace.

Spent the afternoon driving to my grandparents, 4 hours away. We took 2 cars because we're splitting up tomorrow. Sam (my 15 year old little brother) drove on the interstate today for the first time. He wouldn't go above 65 mph. THAT'S TEN UNDER THE LIMIT. SEMIS WERE PASSING HIM. Dad and I were I'm the car following and he was in actual physical pain. He's a speeder (I have inherited the trait). He was like, "this kid is a menace." "I am so embarrassed by this." "Did you see that wheelchair pass him? Oh look, there goes a hover-round."

It was... It was something.

Over.

I have reached enlightenment.

I am currently writing this post from my BRAMD NEW IPHONE 5.

I have finally reached the 21st century.

I have passes from a dumb phone to a smart phone.

I have the entire Internet at my fingertips.

Billions of dollars of innovation.

And all I am doing is taking pictures of Tank.

(ISN'T HE ADORABLE?!)

He's had the hiccups all day.

It's super cute and funny cause his whole body kind of spasms.

Side note: they're making all of these sequels, like Toy Story 3, and Monsters University, and all I can think is that The Incredibles is just SITTING THERE.

Over.

Go me.

I have to get my wisdom teeth out.
This is me. Me being very sad.
Perhaps I will be able to get my mom to take a video of me high on the happy drugs and I can post it for you guys.
Or maybe that would be super embarrassing and I shouldn't do that.
I guess you'll just have to wait and see...

Wanna hear a story that was kind of funny and now it's not that funny?
So, I had to get a new planner (I like the paper ones. I'm old fashioned.) so I went to Walmart like any normal American would. And I FOUND THE EXACT PLANNER THAT I HAD THIS LAST YEAR. In blue. But that's okay. And it was in the wrong place so I didn't know the place so I just took it and when I went to pay, there was a price that came up. The cashier lady asked me if I knew what it cost and I said I didn't know, so I got it for 99 cents! Awesome right?!
Well... I took it home. And a week later I realized that it is a 2012 planner... which is the wrong year.
And that makes me very sad.
But mom got me a different one today.
One for the correct year.
So that makes me happy.
And she paid for it!
Which makes me even happier.

Tank cries all night.
And I don't sleep.
And it sucks.

But I have placement tests tomorrow and a puppy who cries so I am now going to bed at 8:01 on a summer night.
Go me.

Over.

NOTHING

I haven't written in two days.
I feel so bad.
Having a puppy is like having a baby.
SO MUCH WORK.
And he cried all last night.
I did not sleep.
Which sucked.
But he's too cute to be allowed.
Dusk told me he looked like a webkinz.
He's so cute he's practically a stuffed animal.
A stuffed animal that cries and pees.

I DON'T HAVE SCHOOL ANYMORE AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF I'M JUST DOING NOTHING WATCHING TV AND LAYING AROUND LIKE AN UNDER-HYDRATED SLUG.

I have nothing exciting to write about.
I am a sucky blogger.

Over.

Hats With Feathers...

Well, dedicated readers, tomorrow is the day. TOMORROW I GET MY PUPPY. TANK. TANK MY PUPPY. TOMORROW WE GO TO GET HIM.

Today... I did almost nothing. Literally, almost nothing.

But I have a pre-nothing story. From my former high school days. (!!)

So, my AP English teacher is/was/and will forever be, crazy.
On our last day of class she strolled in wearing a FULL VICTORIAN COSTUME COMPLETE WITH HEADDRESS. And then she said, "Oh, how strange. By some strange form of space or time travel, I have found myself in your time and area." WHAT. She then proceeded to explain to us that she was Queen Elizabeth, and she would be teaching us for the class, because our professor was absent. She also spent the rest of class showing us slides of England, and saying things like, "And here is your professor standing outside of Shakespeare's former home." (Which was actually burned down.) She also got Clary to wear the male outfit. He didn't even question it. She pointed to this sparkly thing on a hanger and he took it and walked to the bathroom. IT HAD TIGHTS.
Then he just changed in the back of the room behind a giant styrofoam pharaoh and told us not to look.
It was one of the more entertaining class periods of my life.

AND HERE IS AN ACTUAL PHOTO TO DOCUMENT THE HISTORIC DAY.

That hat. It's just ridiculous.

And the tights. What.

Also, they're called 'pumpkin pants'.
And that's just fantastic.

Over.