Cry Baby.

For anyone who is an emotional person like me, I hope you enjoy this.

When I watch television, I have to pick out my movies and shows with great caution. If the movie seems to sad, it's not in my best interest to watch it, if it looks to scary, it goes back on the shelf. I am more of a happy, animated animals, Disney type of girl. NOT A SCARY, GORY, TEARFUL, type of person.

For example; Marley & Me. Yes, it is a Disney movie, and YES it does star my favorite actress, Jennifer Aniston, but, it is one of the saddest movies I have ever seen. For anyone who hasn't seen it, I either encourage you to go see it with a box of tissues in hand, or don't see it at all. I balled my eyes out, and I wish I would have had a box of tissues. Learn from my mistakes. Every scene in that movie puts you through an emotional roller coaster. Once you think you are clear from a sad scene, and you wipe your tears, your eyes start pouring out more and more sadness.

Today was another typical day. I woke up at the crack of dawn, ate breakfast, and watched Desperate Housewives for about three hours until my little sister and the whole world got up. Desperate Housewives is my new addiction. It's not the kind of addiction where you just need to have it a little bit, I need it every five seconds. It's a crazy show, jam packed with scenarios that you wouldn't believe!

When I finished my first episode of the day, I pressed the play button to go on to the next one. The second episode I watched was crazzzzzzzy! (And, yes. All of those "zzzzz's" were needed.) Anyways, a tornado was about to hit their little Suburbia Neighborhood, and no one was prepared. Susan, who is the romantic "Desperate Housewives" was at the hospital fighting with her husband about his drug addiction. Lynette the soccer mom "Desperate Housewife" was trying to find a place to stay because she didn't have a basement where her family of seven could stay. Bree, the crazy perfectionist "Desperate Housewives" was worrying about other peoples problems. And Gabby, who is a (insert bad word here), "Desperate Housewives" was off having an affair with her ex-husband.

I know what you are thinking, this show is crazy! But, it is amazing!

None of the "Desperate Housewives" were ready for the upcoming storm. As I sat there in agony screaming at the television, I felt a tear rush down my face. I quickly paused the Netflix, and got my act together. After three minutes of pondering terrible thoughts about what would happen to the "Desperate Housewives", I couldn't help but ask myself, "Why the HECK are you crying?!? It's a foolish T.V. show!" I controlled my emotions, and pressed play. As the episodes time was running out, a black screen came up on the T.V. with three white words. "To Be Continued" WHATTT!!!!!!!

I was already a wet tearful mess, and now they want it to continue! Are they NUTSS!!?!?!??!

Unfortunately, I couldn't handle the intensity anymore, so, I saved the "To Be Continued" episode for tomorrow. When I walked upstairs to wash the sadness of my face, my sister walked into the hallway and said "Were you watching Desperate Housewives, again?" I nodded.

"You are SUCH a Cry Baby!!"

A White Christmas.

Waking up on Christmas morning in my house, is somewhat painful. My little sister, Ashley jumps on me until I am 100% awake, screaming at the top of her lungs, "Wake up, wake up, WAKE UP!!!! SANTA WAS HERE!!!!". Then, on top of my sister, my mom comes yelling through out the whole house. "Wait! DO NOT open those gift until the camera is in my hands!!" And my dad, he is usually found on "his" chair, rummaging through his gifts, some of which are already half opened due to his eagerness. As for me, well, I am a sucker. I follow every ones demands, sit in the spot chosen for me, and I listen to what my little sister tells me.

Before this all took place, I was making my Christmas list. It was about mid November, and the only thing I was thinking about was how long we would have to wait for Christmas. Due to my lack of excitement, my Christmas list wasn't really a good one. I was just throwing random things on there, because I didn't really know what I wanted.

After a week went by, I got invited to my friends party. I arrived a little late, hoping that every one wouldn't mind, and, well, they didn't. After several knocks, and waiting in this HARSH December weather, I welcomed myself in. When I walked in to their quite house, I saw ten girls just sitting at the table holding up their smart phones. I set my stuff down, and walked over to the table to say hello. After my hello, I was greeted with some mumbles. I sat down and some talking started, but it wasn't about last weeks football game, or a relationship, it was about their smart phones, and the cool features they had. At that moment, thinking "Hey, maybe this could break the silence!", I pulled out my phone. My phone was broken. I thought it was funny, but I guess not. I carried on anyways. "Wow! Look at all these cool features my phone has! It even has a flash light!" (FYI, it really didn't have a flash light, it was just some light that shined through the broken part on my phone.) I thought I was being funny, but not to anyone else. Right then, and there, I knew exactly what I wanted for Christmas. A White iPhone. (Cue the sounds of the angles..."haaaaaaaaaaa")

In order to make this convincing, I made a list. A list was a perfect idea, because 1. I could get creative. And 2. Because every good idea comes with a list.

Here are a few of my reasoning's:
1. I wouldn't have to sit at parties talking to myself.
2. Ellen DeGeneres has The White iPhone. If I had it, we would practically be twins!
3. Say goodbye to long car rides!
4. I wouldn't have to lug around a phone, and an iPod anymore! It would be combined into one!
5. I could go on Facebook, Blogger, and Tumblr with NO PROBLEM!!
6. I would be considered "cool". Because every one is cool if they have an iPhone.
7. If we got lost, guess what?!? The iPhone has a compass, AND a GPS! I know, it's THAT great!
8. I wouldn't lose my phone anymore because I would be super careful with The iPhone.
9. If I was bored, I could play Angry Birds! Everyone loves a good game of Angry Birds!
10. My face would be "PRICELESS" on Christmas morning if I unwrapped an iPhone. :)

I explained to Santa in my Christmas List all of these great reasons for the iPhone, and I felt like he thought I was crazy.

On Christmas morning, after I was jumped on, and yelled at, I got around to opening my gifts. The sixth gift I opened was a medium sized box. When I violently ripped the paper off, it appeared to be a shoe box. I opened up the box, and saw a TON of bubble rap. (which to me is like a gift, because it is SOOOO entertaining.) Anyways. I unrolled the bubble rap, laughing a few times at the noise it was making, and there, laying at the bottom of the shoe box, on Christmas morning were all my reasons put in one.

Identical Twins.

For as long as I can remember, my sister Ashley and I have always looked the same. Everywhere we went, we got told the same thing. Over, and over, and over again. "You two look SO much alike!" OR, my personal favorite "You two MUST be JoAnn Mohler's children!" Yes, yes we are.

My mom is known by at least one person everywhere we go, it's insane. I am pretty sure that they made the saying "It's a small world", with her in mind. We could be anywhere, and she would know somebody. And, if she is not with us, they must think we are "spitting images" of her.

Ashley and I look a lot alike. Yes. But, (and there is always a "But") we are nothing like each other. We are totally opposites. For example; I like broccoli, and she doesn't. Personally, I think it is probably the coolest vegetable because, 1. It is shaped like a tree! How cool is that? 2. They have an amazing flavor! and 3. It is a good side dish with almost ANYTHING! Ashley hates broccoli. Well, in my opinion, she hates all good food.

But, sometimes we could be mistaken as the same person. We wear the same clothes, our hair is the same color, (except her hair is curlier, and I am jealous), and we are almost the same height. And, I have to add that I am about four inches taller than her! That is probably the only thing that makes me feel older than her now a days.

Besides her hair, I am jealous of many more things. When I was eleven, I didn't have as many friends as she had. I spent my Saturday nights in the house, playing Connect Four with my dad, instead she is out on the town hanging out with her friends. She has a social life. I didn't, and I still don't. She has friends that are boys, GASPPPP! And, she is always out going no matter what kind of situation she is in. It takes me a while to warm up.

Today she came and told me about her day at school. Ever since she started middle school, I ask her how her day is every day. I love hearing about her input on the middle school. Sometimes, she comes home and tells me days were harder than others, or that "Annie" broke up with "John" because he used another girl's pencil sharpener. I have heard it all, believe me. But, it is still all so fascinating to me.

Sometimes, she will come home and tell me about her new friends, or her teachers, and how nice, or unfair they are. But, today I got another story. She started off like this...

"Today was good, I learned about the human eye! Did you know that every single baby is born with blue eyes?!?!? Isn't that just, CRAZY?!?! Well, I am doing a project in math, and science. They are both kind of fun, but it's just a lot of work. Ya know?"

I was a little preoccupied at the time, so I answered with "Yeah, really? Wow, that's cool. Auhh huhh, yep, sounds interesting."

After my response, she started to walk away. After she hit the end of the living room, she came shooting back into the room screaming "Guess who stopped me in the hallway?!?" At that point, I stopped what I was doing, dropped my binder filled with studding material, and screamed "WHOOOOOOO!!!???!?!?"

She carried on...

"Well, Mr. Masico" (who was my 6th grade teacher) "Came up to me, and my friends as we were walking to lunch. He pulled me aside, and at first I thought I was getting in trouble for something, but then I heard "the question". He asked me if I had a sister named Amanda, and he told me we looked like identical twins. When he said bye to me, he screamed 'Bye Mini Mohler', just like every other teacher I have ever had."

Mini Mohler. That's referring to ME, she is the "mini" me! She might not like it, but I do.

I'm jealous that she has that nickname. But, I practically set that name up for her. I know she secretly likes it, and even though she won't admit it, that's okay. That's something we both have in common, we never like to admit things to each other. And, honestly, that's what makes us sisters.

Two Years In The Making.

Today, as I sat in my small health class surrounded by nine girls, something hit me. We were watching a movie called 28 Days. It was an "okay" movie, but, just like every other movie, there was that one moment where you just zone out. I "zoned" out for a good five minutes. I was pondering on, and on about the changes in my life, and how some of them payed off.

Two years ago, I had this crazy idea in my mind that I wanted to attend a Catholic high school. Everyone thought I was crazy, and that it was just a "phase".

And in the end...well, I won't ruin it for you.

Anyways, I was in eighth grade. I was absolutely, positively sure that it was the best year of my life, and man was I right. I had amazing friends, great teachers, and I loved waking up in the morning. People would think I was an absolute "nut ball" because I loved school that much.

When April came around, we had our guidance counselor come in to talk to us about our high school schedules. He helped us make our schedules, and prepare ourselves for the upcoming year. Everyone was excited, besides me. I am pretty sure, out of my graduation class of four-hundred and fifty students, I was one of five who were not excited for the next year. It wasn't until that moment where I started dreading waking up in the morning. Every day I woke up lead to another day closer to high school. I was modified. I talked to everyone I could to try to get input on the high school, but everyone had the exact same reply. They thought it was amazing, and I quote, "It's so much more freedom." Freedom. One thing I did not want. I liked the amount of freedom I was already receiving at the middle school, and I would be fine without more freedom.

After that I did everything I could to try to hold back high school. At one point, I had the idea of failing come to mind, but it was such an absurd idea. I could never, ever go through with that anyways. My one friend was in the same "boat" as I was. She didn't want to go to the high school, in fact she was looking into better options that didn't seem as scary. Said friend was looking into a Catholic high school. One with a better environment, and a better "feeling". Being her friend I went with her on her shadow dates to explore the schools, and see how high school would be.

After the end of the year quickly passed by, I hadn't made up my mind. I was planing on starting my Freshmen year at the Freedom high school. That year was one of the hardest for me. I had lost some friends, and I hated getting up in the morning. Every day I would have a study hall, that I did not use for studying. I didn't use it for homework, or listening to my iPod and texting like every other student in the room. I used that time to write. I wrote about high school, and how it has effected me.

As Amanda, I keep all my old things. I am NOT a hoarder! I have it all tucked away, neatly in my memory box that I made in second grade. Everything is in there. My old notes, my letters, my favorite picture, things I got from people that I absolutely adored. Everything. The other day I decided to go through it, which I do A LOT. I like to re-read things, and look at old memories. At the bottom of the box I found the journal that I used during my study halls. I had one specific page that I love to read. Here is a little bit of it.

If I were to switch school...
What would happen? These are the things I am scared of.
1) What people would say...?
2) Would I lose all my old friends...?
3) I wouldn't be afraid to ask questions.
4) It would be ALL girls, no boys= no distractions.
5) No fights.
6) No drugs.
7) Would I be a lot happier...?

There were several more, along with other side notes, but this one really stood out to me. Today when I was "zoning" out, I was interrupted by the song Lean On Me. That song lead me right back to the memories of middle school.

 We would listen to that song every Friday, it was like the schools "anthem". As I was humming along in my head, I couldn't help but think about one special time I had heard the song. I was sitting in my guidance counselors office making a Pros's and Con's list for high school. My counselor was like my go-to guy. I trusted him with everything, and I always took his advise to heart. I went down to talk to him on a Friday morning to tell him about my shadow at Mt. Mercy. We were making a list of all the things I liked, and disliked.

The song kept playing on and on, as the credits disappeared when they hit the top of the smart board. I sat there just thinking about how all of that, lead to this. I thought about how those two years, helped me get to where I am today.

Today, I sat there surrounded by my class of nine thinking about what a great decision I had made. I thought about all the good times I had in middle school, and how I was re-living them two years later.  Thinking about how I love getting up every morning and knowing I am going somewhere I love. And, how I might have lost some friends, but I gained forty-five new ones. After all, it was two years in the making.

Thank God For Ibuprofen!

A few years ago, I thought I wanted to be an orthodontist. I would write essays, create projects, and talk about the subject of orthodontics all the time. I had ideas written down about my office, and my co-workers. I planned on, when, and if I got married, I wouldn't change my last name. I would be Dr. Mohler. My life would be perfect. I would be waking up doing something I loved, living in a giant mansion, and have the best name in the state. Everyone would want to come to me  But, just like every human being on this earth, my ideas and opinion changed.

In eighth I did a project about my, at the time, dream job. I was excited, but at the same time nervous to present my ideas to my class. I was confident that my essay was the best, my presentation was amazing, and my visuals were outstanding. I knew I was going to get a good grade. I researched for about two weeks, learning everything I possibly could about becoming an orthodontist. I also talked to my orthodontist about the project, and he was kind enough to let me use a few items to show to the class. Right then, and there, I knew my project was going to be the Best of the Best. After researching, I had found some interesting facts that just blew my mind away. From there, I continued on reading on and on, in hopes I would find more facts worthy of a one-hundred. After the second week of researching, I began to lose interest in the subject. Everything I had read, I over though, and it soon became "gross" in my mind. Then, the though of sticking my hands in other people's mouths hit me, and I officially threw my hands up. I carried on with the subject for the remainder of my project, but my heart wasn't in it fully. I had though my passion for orthodontics had been one.

On August 8th, 2010 something terrible had happened to me. I took it as a message from God, telling me that orthodontics WAS in fact my thing, but, he must have though I just needed a reminder. It was my softball end of the year party. The right fielder was hosting the party, which I though was awesome because she had a pool. At the time, yeah, it was great. But, once again, my opinion changed. My teammates and I were all getting ready to go into the pool, and start playing games. We even were good, and waited thirty minutes to go swimming. But, being good must have not been enough for me, I might have only waited twenty-five minutes, and Karma came back to haunt me. All my friends were getting in the pool by going off the slide. I was the last to get in. They were all doing these really, really RISKY tricks off the slide that looked cool, but they turned out to be a bad idea. After I sat in the Luke warm water watching all my "crazy" friends do flips and different stunts, they were all chanting my name. "AMANDA, AMANDA, AMANDA!" I knew the tricks were dangerous, and I was definitely not going to be preforming them, so I proceeded to the slide and went down on my bottom, in hopes I would be receiving a metal for the safest way down a slide, but I wasn't. My friends were booing at me. They kept telling me that was "too safe", and that I needed to do something really cool. I gave them a smile, but hidden behind it was fear. I walked up to the slide again, stood at the top and proceed to tell them that I have never been down a slide head first. They all looked shocked, but continued on chanting "DO IT, DO IT, DO IT!"

Here is my advise to you in this part of the story. Never, EVER go down a slide head first. It's dangerous, it's stupid, and it is just wrong. Slides were meant to go down with your feet in front of you, not BEHIND you.

Anyways...

When I positioned myself at the top of the slide, I looked down to see all my friends waiting for me. I opened my arms like a bird, and slowly pushed myself away from the slide. I closed my eyes, and smiled a great big "Amanda Mohler" smile. When I hit the water, I felt nothing. Everything went silent as the water filled my ears. I felt my face hit something, but I wasn't sure what it was. I kicked off of the bottom of the pool, and shot up to the surface. When the water came streaming out of my mouth, I felt instant pain in my front teeth. Everyone was cheering, and screaming for me, but my screaming over powered them. They all stopped, and watched water flow down my face not knowing if it was excess water from the pool, or tears. They were tears. I was screaming gibberish but, fitting in real words that made everyone rush over to me. I walked over to the edge of the pool screaming that someone would wake me up from this horrible nightmare, but no one did. After a soild thirty seconds, all the mothers came running over, and helped me out of the pool. I ended up chipping more than half of my tooth, and making other front one wiggley.

Yesterday, as I sat in a chair with a light and an orthodotist leaning over me with their hands in my mouth, I couldn't help but think of those times.  I blocked every sound out, and just thought about that moment, and how I felt. I was completely devestated. I looked at my orthodontists (beautuiful sky blue eyes) as he was trying to tell me something. I flashed back into the chair. He was telling me about what changes he had made to my retainer, and how I will be feeling alittle bit of discomfort. I did somewhat of a nod, and put it back into my mouth.

Here I am, a day later wishing I didn't have to have this STUPID, painful, ugly retainer in my mouth. Hoping that the one tooth that is in need of fixing could just move to the right spot, and STAY there. I am waiting for the day that I can burn all my retainers that have ever costed me a great meal that I couldn't chew, or the pain I had to be in well I layed on the couch. Here I am, with this foolish retainer in my mouth, and a new best friend. Ibuprofen.

Laughing Out Loud.

Yes, I am one of those people. I sit by myself, completely alone, and I laugh. I laugh until I can not laugh anymore. It's embarrassing. I know, I have been told. I will be watching one of my DVRed shows, something funny will happen, and I will burst out into laughter. Thank God for DVR! As soon as my laughter breaks out I pause the show, and if it is that funny...Yes, I will rewind, and watch it again.

After I finish watching the same ten seconds over, and over again, I continue on with my show.

It's sort of like a disease. Or, if I wanted to look at the glass half full, it's a gift. Let's not be humble here. It's a disease, a bad one too. The symptoms are, 1) sitting by yourself...CHECK. 2) Not being able to hold a drink in your hand, because you are too afraid you are going to spill it as you break out hysterically...CHECK. 3) Second guessing if you need to change your pants after your laughter break out...CHECK.

It's definitely a disease. But, I can't help it. I'm a lonely, crazy "LOL-er". It's not my fault, though, it's the shows I watch. They are all full of hilarious people, with hilarious lines. The Big Bang Theory, Glee, Modern Family, Suburagatory, The Ellen Show, and many more. They are the reason all my pants are in the wash, and there are multiple stains on my carpet, (just an exaggeration, it fit in there well. My house really doesn't have grape juice stains everywhere). Anyways, it's there fault I "caught" this disease. Blame them, not me.

What makes me ponder, is that I laugh at the stupidest things that anyone could say. For example, today I was catching up on all my shows, and I was watching Friday's Ellen. She made the corniest joke, ever, but, I still laughed. WAIT!! That was a bad example. Ellen is just funny in general. Ummm, Ohhh. I got one! Today, I was watching The Big Bang Theory, and they made an inappropriate joke, and I laughed so hard. Why the HECKKKKK did I laugh?!?! It was rude, foul, and very inappropriate! Maybe that show wasn't a good example.

My point is that, well, I don't really have a point. But, I am hoping I am not the only one suffering from LOLastrofia. (Just a fancy name I made up for someone who sits alone and laughs out loud). I'm a victim of LOLastrofia, and I am not afraid to admit it. Now, my glass is being looked at half full, but from a distance. I can't afford another stain.

Not So "Normal".

Normal. It's a word many people are supposed to "act" up to. It never happens. Its just like being perfect, no one is. Therefore, no one is normal.

Here I am, at 9:19 in the morning, laying on my friends couch watching my  seven other friends sleep. It's crazy! They just all lay there like normal teenagers. They sleep in until noon, or even longer.

Here I am at 9:23 pondering about this normal teenager sleeping situation. Does it make me not normal if I am awake? But, even if I tried to sleep, I couldn't. I'm not normal. I have never slept in. That word is not even in my vocabulary.

Wait! There is alwaaaayyys an exception. The day after New Years last year, I slept till 9:45. It was insane! I felt like a bum, like my whole day was wasted. But, then I just looked to my right and saw my other friends sleeping. So, does that still count as sleeping in?

There are SO many things you can be doing except for sleeping, or watching your friends sleep. I will make a list for the rest of the "non-normal" people out there.

1. You could build a fort- why not? It's a blast! You could, (hopefully), find a friend who is awake to join you.

2. Make some food- maybe try out a new recipe you have dying to try.

3. Make a craft- it is the holiday season, maybe a nice colored wreath, or a picture of a tree.

4. Start watching a new show- that's what I did, and now I'm addicted to Desperate Housewives.

5. Call someone- no one talks on the phone anymore. EVER. It's like a sin now, everything HAS I be in text formation.

I hope those suggestions helped all you "non-normal" people out there. Some have worked in the past, but, just a fair warning about number two. If you are going to try a new recipe, that's great! But, if you are at someone else's house, 1. Don't make a mess. 2. Don't start a fire. And 3. If you are going to try a new recipe, make sure you remotely know how to preform it.

So, here I am at 9:39, waiting for my friends to wake up. I am sitting in my fort, eating some chicken pot pie, coloring a Christmas tree from a coloring book, talking to my friend on the phone,  and watching Desperate Housewives on Netflix. Pssh, and they say I'm not "normal".

Oranges Without Seeds.

As a family, you basically "grow" on each other. You have your mother, father, and siblings. And, then you are introduced to a whole different side of your family, your aunts, uncles, and cousins. You grow up with them, and soon enough, become extremely close.

When I was younger, I was really close with my dad's side of the family. They lived out in Cheektowaga, which is not too far, but it seemed like it at the time. For Christmas every year, we would go to my Grandma and Grandpa's house where we would be greeted by the rest of my family. As a whole family we would all play gift trading games, with pointless, and hilarious items. Some items would be more valuable than others at the Dollar Store, and the rest were just "home aid" miscellaneous things that absolutely, nobody uses. It was one of the best games I had played as a child. I remember feeling like an adult simply because I was playing with adults.

After we finished the game, and opened the presents with great caution, my cousins and I would go outside and play in the snow. It made me feel really special because they were all teenagers, and they wanted to play with me. We used to do all different activities from snowman building, to making snow angles. One Christmas, my cousin Joey added in a new game. He was taking about it as if every cool teenager did it, so, being told that, I wanted to be looked at as an older individual in my cousins eyes. When I look back at it now, I honestly don't know what I was thinking. I was young, and very gullible. And, unfortunately, I still am.

He started explaining the game, but, I was too busy thinking about how "cool" I would be. He pointed to this red pole in the middle of my Grandma's backyard. It was used to hold up her laundry in the Summer. Since it wasn't being used, my cousin found a new use for it. We quickly shuffled are way over to the pole to get a better look. He told me it was a cherry pole, and that the taste was amazing. "Just one lick!" He said. "It tastes SOOO good!!"

I looked over to my other two cousins, in hopes they would differ, but instead, they were nodding. I was so naive. In a matter of five minutes, I found myself sticking out my tongue to take a lick of the unsanitary "cherry" pole in my Grandma's backyard. As I stood inches away from the pole, my tongue was catching snow flakes. I moved in closer and closer, and soon enough my tongue was pressed against the "cherry" pole. Let me just start off by telling you, it wasn't cherry flavored, or watermelon, or any good tasting flavor. It tasted like metal. Gross, cold, rusty metal. Looking back, it wasn't such a good idea. My cousins started to laugh, and I did the opposite, cried. I was stuck to the pole, crying with my mouth wide open. Let's just say, it wasn't such a great Christmas.

That Christmas, after my tongue was rescued, we found out some bad news. My family was moving to Arizona. At the time, it was the worst thing that I have ever heard. I was so close to my cousins. (And, my grandma's "cherry" pole.) I couldn't imagine not seeing them. But, as it turns out, it was a good move. That summer they moved, and we went to go visit shortly after. Arizona turned out to be a beautiful place, and my cousins looked extremely happy there. Seven years later, they are still happy. They love it there, and so do I.

Sometimes, it is really hard to get together and find time off. But, even when we are separate physically, we are together mentally. Today, my Grandpa sent us a box full of kumquats from the tree in his backyard. When I go to Arizona, all I eat are kumquats. They are the best! My grandpa and I always pick them together if I make it in time for the harvest. Unfortunately, this year he harvested himself.

When I opened the box, it was like love was pouring out in orange form. One by one, the kumquats came rolling out, and each one I knew were handpicked with love. Kumquats are less of the mess, and the stickiness. And, the best part is they don't have seeds.

In the viewers eyes, it might just come across as an orange without seeds. But, to me it was more than that, it was love sent without the "cherry" pole. When I bit into the kumquat, I didn't get a seed stuck in my tooth, or a bad rusty taste on my tongue, I tasted love. Love without seeds.

Boredom At It's Finest.

With this some what "white" Christmas season approaching us, every ones daily life's are becoming busier, and busier, including mine. The last few days I have been busy with school work, decorating the house and gift buying for this Holiday Season.

After a short time period filled with busyness, you need a break. Everyone does, it's only human. Last week was one of the hardest weeks. First of all, it was back to school after a break. That is NEVER fun. You have an ammmaazziinnngg break off with your family, you get to hang out with cousins, (which, was SUPEEERR exciting because I have a new baby cousin!!) and, you get to eat a TON of food. That sounds like a good break for me. Then, all that fun comes to an end. The break feels like it lasted fifteen minutes, and by the time it's eight o'clock on Sunday night, and your mom says, "Get your backpack ready for tomorrow!", you ask yourself where the heck your break went. This is speaking from experience.

Second of all, (this ALWAYS HAPPENS!!), teachers don't have enough time to teach you all the material you need for the test before going on break, so they give you a packet full of the remaining information, and make you do it over break. Then, you have a test on that Monday after all the greatness of your break.

It's such a bad idea to have Monday's the "come back" day. They should make it Tuesday's, or maybe Thursday's. That would be nice. The kids wouldn't be so tired, or they wouldn't look so bad, including myself. BUT, since we are sort of on this topic, I want to know how teenagers can sleep for SOOOOO long. It's crazy, personally, sleeping in for me is till eight thirty. I couldn't even imagine sleeping till noon. Your day is almost half gone by then!

Now that, that is off my chest, I can get back to the real matter. Coming back from break. I know I am not speaking for myself on this topic. The Monday you come back on then leads the longest week of your life. Each day goes by slower and slower, and when you think your on Thursday, your really only on Tuesday. Then you get all bummed out because you thought Grey's Anatomy was on, and then on top of that disappointment, you realize you have two projects due tomorrow. Let's just say it was a long, and ruff week all together.

So, this weekend was spent full of my boredom. It was great, I had time to do so much. I watched more Netflix, which, by the way, is the BEST invention on this planet. I got quality time to play with my dog, I played some Wii games, that I never have time to play, and I got to build a fort.

Let me start off by publicly humiliating myself, I was alone. My little sister wasn't home. Is that okay? Probably not, but I was bored out of my mind, and I needed to do something. So, I eagerly grabbed some pillows, and blankets and began to build a fort. Might I just say. It was great! It was fully equipped with all the best snacks, drinks, and pillows. It had an amazingly sturdy roof. And, it had a beautiful view of our hallway. What more could you ask for? That's right, nothing!

Soon enough I got a visitor! It was my dog, Bailey. He made my day! We did SO many fun things, my fort was probably called on by the cops a few times for Disturbing The Peace. What can I say, we parted pretty hard. I was thinking about making a Facebook invite, but my fort's maximum capacity was for two people. I'm terribly sorry for anyone who I disappointed.

Having this weekend as a "boring" weekend was one of the best decisions I have made in a while. I have said it a few times, but I will say it again, It was great! But, every good weekend soon gets shut down by Monday. So, here's to a short week filled with less project, less tests, and and more fun!

Practice Makes Perfect.

Once in awhile, we will stop what we usually do on a day-to-day basis, to take a break. Sometimes, we, including myself, will forget how to do something correctly, or maybe forget what things might mean during this "break". Let's just say, today, I had softball practice.

After our last tournament at the end of August, we get a two month break. It's fantastic, and this is coming from a girl who LOVES softball. I get to catch up on sleep that I lost due to tournament time, each some chips without working out afterwards, annnndd, I can lay on the couch, or hangout with friends on my weekends, instead of waking up before the sun, and driving two hours to a game.

Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love softball. But, every decision I make, and every action I undergo, somehow relates back to the thought of softball. For example: I will be jumping on a trampoline, having an amazing time. I will begin to jump higher, and then to show off a little by doing some flips. Then, I will think about the consequences.

"What if I do a face plant off the trampoline, and break my nose?"
OR
"What if I land wrong, and I break something?"

After all of these thoughts are running through my mind, I quickly get off the trampoline, and stand off to the side. Yes, I know trampolines are dangerous, but 1) It's just an example. And 2) If it was THAT dangerous, would they really have them? Honestly...

Anyway, today I had softball practice. We rented a really nice facility, which includes a small gym, two batting cages, and some room for fielding and throwing. I was really excited to start getting back into practicing. I got to clean out my bag, which was absolutely disgusting. I had several empty water bottles, A TON of dirt, and things I didn't even know I still had, like my old batting gloves, and my sliding pads. It was like an adventure going through that bag. When I got to practice, we all started to stretch. Then the timer came out, which only means one thing, Six Minute Abs. Six Minute Abs are probably the worst stretching I have done. It's twelve different stretches, in six minutes. The worst part is, the whole time you are doing crunches. Then, along with doing the crunches, you do crazy things with your legs. Annndd, I am not a very good multitask-er, so that doesn't help me one bit. It's really crazy.

When we started to do some hitting, I felt like a baby picking up a bat for the first time. If we got more time off, I probably would have asked what I was holding. I swung a few times, anticipating to get back into the swing again, but it wasn't working. I started hitting the softballs into the net, and I believe I was doing just fine. I just needed a few tweaks from my coach, and then I was perfectly fine.

After hitting we started doing some fielding. I put on my face mask, and prepared myself for the worst. Since today, I haven't thrown or fielded in months. It was a disaster. I WAS A DISASTER! I was throwing the ball every which way, and doing absurd things with my feet. I had to get serious help just to do a simple task of throwing a ball. I felt like my back didn't say "Mohler", more like "Wendy's".

After all of this insanity, I finally got it. I was throwing correctly, batting great, and fielding good. Getting back into the swing of things is not a easy as you might hope it would be. You might mess up a few times here and there, and believe me, I have been both "here and there", but after practice and tons of Six Minute Abs, you are in GREAT shape.

After all, Practice Makes Perfect.

She Doesn't Get Out Much.

This blog entry is dedicated to my sister, who, I am almost positive, is the craziest girl in this world. Ashley Marie Mohler. Yes, our initials are the same, and Yes, our faces look the same, but, we are NOT the same person. Actually, we are total opposites.

When Ashley and I were little, we were always together, and doing something fun. One time, my parents purchased a new refrigerator, and Ashley and I found the box and claimed it ours. We set it up in the family room corner, put our pillows and blankets inside, and we lived in it. Ashley wanted it to be more "homey" so, we decided to bring in the forty-eight pack of crayons, (WITH the sharpener), and color all over the walls. We colored a television, some pictures, and we even had a thermostat. It was the best box I have ever lived in. And, Yes. I have lived in other boxes. Anyways. We lived in that box for almost a whole week. My dad finally had to beg us to get out by taking us out to dinner. When he offered that, we both looked at each other, and then looked at our cooler which was holding a few snacks and drinks we smuggled. Long story, short...that night we were eating like kings.

Ashley and I liked to entertain people too. We would always put on shows by singing and dancing to our favorite songs. And, sometimes, if the viewers we lucky, we would take requests. If we weren't singing or dancing, we were usually making up our own games.

For my birthday, I received a giant kitchen. It came stocked with fake food, snacks, and drinks. We would always play house, and chef. I was ALWAYS the chef. When we got tired of playing those games, we would stand at the bottom of the stairs with the fake food, and throw it up into the bathroom, hoping it would make it into the toilet. Looking back at that, it probably wasn't such a smart, and clean decision.

Sometimes, she is really crazy. She always is the one who is going to ask the "dumb" questions, or say the "dumb" remarks. Or, she is the person who stands up and pretends she won Bingo, just to make the other players mad.

Today is a good example, we had to go to Church for my baby cousins Baptism. She acted like she had never been to Church. She was cracking jokes, and the worst part was, I couldn't control my laughing. It was a good thing the Priest was cracking jokes too. She would make "dumb" jokes about things, that weren't even funny, but, I was laughing anyways. After we went up for communion, we went back to kneeling down, and she said "Wow, how did they know my favorite flavor was cardboard!?!?" Yes, we all know the host isn't the best, but it is not supposed to be. Then she started clapping when my cousin was getting the holy water poured on him. I tried to stop her, but I was laughing too hard.

When Ashley isn't being crazy, or wild, she is sleeping. Well, when she is awake, and not being crazy or wild, she is super nice. She always gets me things when I am laying down and being lazy. She always is sharing her things with me, especially her clothes. And, she is always the best sister anyone can ask for.

No matter how she acts in public or how much she makes me laugh at home, she is always going to be my sister. And, she is the best one she can be.

And, on those days, I think of the expression...You can't pick your family. ;)

Black Friday.

Black Friday has always been something I HAD to experience. I brought it up to my mom, showed her the amazing deals at Walmart, and I put up a good fight. I had to make her say yes. All the Facebook statuses, and the hype were tempting me to get out there, and be part of the crowd.

Around ten o'clock, we headed out for an amazing journey. This was my fist time Black Friday Shopping, so, you could imagine how excited I was. Plus, I am usually in bed by ten, so it was craaazzy. When we pulled into Walmart, I couldn't believe my eyes. People were parking every where, the grass, the pavement, and the road. Every where I looked, there was either a car, or a crowd of people running to be apart of the amazing deals.

After we did a few rounds around the parking lot, we saw a car pulling out of a spot. We didn't even care to look at the spot, we just quickly pulled in, and started darting toward the entrance. My mom, sister, and I were not interested in buying anything big, we just wanted to go get some cheap movies. After we were handed the information sheet with the locations of the great deals, we began to hustle towards the movie area. When we got there, all the good movies were gone, and some were even on the ground broken. It was crazy. After we were walking back, we saw an entrance for a laptop and went over and started asking questions. One thing lead to another, and soon enough we ended up in line waiting for three laptops in the food aisles. Might I just say that having the line wait in the food aisles for two hours was NOT a good idea. People were opening the food, eating some, and then putting them back as if they were still in perfect condition.

Waiting in line, we meet some really nice people. The kind folks behind us were elderly people who were in line buying laptops for their grandchildren. The people across from us had the right idea. They did all their shopping and then got in line for the laptops. Then, they told me a story about their trip to Hoboken, New Jersey to go to Carlo's Bakery. (That is where I am going for my 16th birthday) The people in front of us were nice enough to share their opened cans of food that they generously kept taking off the shelves. Black Friday was nothing like I expected. It was absurd.

After we waited in line for two hours, we finally got our laptops. We quickly ran over to the cash registers, to see lines that were backed up all the way to the end of the store. As we walked back to the end of the lines, we saw an even shorter line in the "Tire" place. We jumped in the line, and we waited. We waited for about forty-five more minutes, and then we were finally cashed out. It was a great sigh of relief. When I looked down to make sure I had everything, I spotted some money on the ground. I picked it up, and I was jumping with joy. I unfolded the money, and there were three WHOLE dollars there!! I was acting like it was three hundred dollars, but, only in my dreams. It was a great night.

When we were walking out to the car, we spotted a parking ticket on the front window of our car. We all looked at each other and laughed. We were thinking of a good excuses to tell my dad, but, we were too busy laughing.

Black Friday is now a new tradition for me. I enjoyed ever minute of it. I made some new friends, found some money, received a new laptop, and got to spend quality time with the my family. It was a great night, and I wouldn't change a thing, well...maybe I could have found more money.

Look! It's A Flying Squirrel.

Today, I didn't have school, so, you could imagine what a great day I had. I was looking forward to writing a blog later, but nothing interesting was happening to me. I could have written about my day with Netflix, and how I watched a whole season of Desperate Housewife's, but what would I say?

I turned on Netflix around eight thirty, and started watching some episodes. I officially turned off Netflix at four thirty. That sounds like a good blog to me! :) Talk to you tomorrow.

Just kidding...

Nothing "blog material" had happened to me until I saw my little sister's bus drop her off at three. I watched as her and the neighbors exited the bus, and each one of them had a giant smirk on their faces. I didn't know if it was because it was the last day before a break, or if it was me they were smirking at because I was standing outside in my "lounge-around clothes." I didn't think it was me, but then they were all calling my name. I quickly ran over and they were all shouting the same thing, but it was still hard to make out. With their screaming surrounding me, I looked down and saw a dead squirrel.

And that's where the miscellaneous title come in...

All four kids, including myself, were standing in the middle of the road, pointing and screaming at the squirrel. I didn't know what to do. It was gross! I will not get into specific details, because just thinking about it makes me sick. I looked around to see if there were any adults, but, just my luck, everyone was at work.

I am convinced that my neighborhood is one of the best neighborhoods in Hamburg, maybe even the world. Everyone knows everyone, and we are always doing fun activities. Whether it is from a big game of kick-ball, or a movie night. Personally, I like Movie Nights the best. One of my neighbors own a projector, and occasionally in the Summer, they will bring that out, and set it up against one side of their house. All the neighbors will gather around with their folding chairs, and some popcorn, and watch a movie. And, the best part, it's ALWAYS a Disney movie!

Anyways, back on the squirrel. It was horrifying. I'm embarrassed to admit that I felt bad for it. I couldn't keep it on the road so it's squirrel family could see it laying there, but obviously, I WAS NOT going to touch it. As some cars were coming by, we all rushed to the sidewalk, in hope the person in the car would see us scrambling from something, and maybe stop. But no one did. The seventh grade boy took a stick, and well without being graphic, poked it and stuck it somewhere where he would be able to pick it up. My sister was amazed by this. She took out her phone, and started taking pictures. Ewww. I held her back, but her being stronger, she broke free and continued to take pictures. The boy was going to stick it down the sewage drain in the street, but I would not allow it. I didn't think that was right, especially since it was in front of someones house. So, the seventh grader held the stick with the squirrel hanging from it, and started running. He was screaming "LOOOOK!!!! THE SQUIRREL IS FLYING! LOOOK!! IT'S A FLYING SQUIRREL!!!"

There are absolutely no words to descirbe my emotions for this particular situation. The middle schoolers were all laughing hysterically, as I was trying to hold in my coughing, and wheezing. After my coughing attack, I managed to get a hold of my voice tell the boy to take the squirrel somewhere else. I did not want to see it anymore. It was disgusting! After I started walking back to my house, the boy yelled out that he was going to take it home and get it stuffed.

Personally, I believed that. They were the crazy neighbors. Everything weird that they did, didn't phase me one bit. If someone were to tell me that they were going to be purchasing a unicorn, I wouldn't doubt it.

My day was pretty normal and boring until my sister got home, but it makes sense. That is usually when the bazaar, and the strange start to occur.

Canterbury's Got Talent.

For the last few weeks, my English and global classes have been working together to read The Canterbury Tales. My global class would read The Knight's Tale, being the longest tale, and then we would work are way around the rest of the tales in English.

We have been reading them for a while, and along the way, you always have your say. The first thing I thought of was how foolish this lesson was. I didn't understand why we were learning about different types of crazy, free-spirited people, and why they were going on a "journey" to Canterbury. It didn't make sense to me. At first, I wasn't enjoying it. I was over thinking the whole concept, and why we were reading it. Then I thought of the saying, "You only get back, what you put into it". I wasn't going to let this one lesson take over my love for my favorite class, so I did exactly what I though of. I put in the most effort I could.

In a few sentences, The Canterbury Tales is a whole book dedicated to a group of twenty-seven TOTALLY different people. They are all going on a pilgrimage to Canterbury, and to pass time, they all decided on telling stories.

Some of the characters, to me, were a little strange. Take The Prioress for example. She is a woman who is described as a modest and quiet character. See doesn't believe in hurting animals, yet she feeds her two beloved dogs, animal flesh. We were told that she sings terribly, and she never, ever let's food drop out of her mouth, so in other words, she was a larger woman. She is somewhat a little shy, and very dainty.

Last week, my English teacher had announced to the class that we had to preform skits for the "Renaissance Fair". As soon as I heard skits, my heart skipped a beat. The Renaissance Fair had been being prepared for several weeks before we were told about the skits. The teachers had other activities planned, along with the skits. The group I was put in already had amazing ideas of what we could do. I told my group I didn't know if I was capable of fulfilling a big role, but I got one any ways. From that point on, I was psyching myself out. (Like I explained in my previous blog). I had to preform as The Prioress, and sing poorly one of my favorite songs, Skyscraper.

Today was a day, I will Never forget. It started off when I first woke up, just like any other day. I woke up to the thought in my mind of people laughing at me, and not with me. I soon told myself I had to let that thought go. I was in with the good, and out with the bad. That was my "motto" all day long. I soon found myself, downstairs eating a doughnut for breakfast. I told my mom that I was hoping I wouldn't see the doughnut again. She laughed, and continued on with her motherly duties, as if I was kidding. At the time I wasn't. Later on in school, we were surprised with the movie, Robin Hood, which is not my "cup of tea" but, I couldn't do anything about it. So, I took that time to reflect every aspect of my performance. I was thinking about my steps, my facial expressions, and how high my notes would have to go to show that I was actually attempting to sing bad. The worst thing that could happen is for people to think I was trying to sing good, and then get made fun of. That thought left my head too.

Around, one o'clock, it was time to take the stage. I was so nervous, my knee caps were shaking, which I would like to add, NEVER happened to me before. When it was our turn to go up and preform, I had an easy task. I had to get the IPod to play a song out of the speakers. Easy. I was holding the speakers in my shaking hands and waited for my cue to press the play button. When I got the signal, I pressed the play button, and very soft music started to play. The speaker, and the IPod were not connected. When I tried to re-connect them, the music stopped and everyone stared at me. I wasn't thinking so, I just started to hum the music loudly. Everyone laughed. The laughter didn't feel like enough, so, I decided to give myself a few nice comments about how awesome I was for thinking on my feet. About two minutes later, I heard the lines from my overly examined script, I had been dreading to hear. "Our next contestant will be The Prioress." Great, that was me. My heart sunk in my stomach so far, it had joined the butterflies. I then took the microphone, along with a deep breath, and began my lines. I stuttered a little bit, and forgot my words, so, I improvised. I made a name for the dog I was holding, McJagger, which was influenced by my favorite song, which was stuck in my head, Moves Like Jagger.  And, I even made a few unscripted steps toward the judges. As I began to sing, I closed my eyes, and just let the worst voices come over me. It was a terrible sound, but it was supposed to be bad. So, in that case, it was a good, bad signing. When I was done, I finally opened my eyes to find everyone cheering. They were supposed to be booing, but I guess they were so memorized by my "great" voice, they must have been clapping for an encore.

You know when you try something, and you absolutely love it, so you continue to do it over, and over again? I got that feeling. I could have stepped on another stage and just started singing again, without any worries in the world.

Self-Confidence Check.

Sometimes in Life, decisions are made, that are hard to fulfill. Along with those decisions, you may get the occasional "butterflies" or "pit's" in your stomach. Honestly, I have been down that path before, and, I am going through it right now. It's not always an easy thing to accomplish, but it's got to happen someday.

I have been diffident, as long as I can remember.  I think I would have to say it started in Preschool. In my PreK class, as a celebration at the end of the year, you would cross a rainbow bridge to show how you have overcome PreK, and made your way to the next step. Kindergarten. As a preschool, that was always a fun time. You got to pick out your dress, and take pictures with all your friends. It was your first, real experience feeling like a super model. My dress was a white flowered dress, with a hint of blue in it. I remember feeling like a princess. I probably even got caught up in the moment, and asked for a crown. But, that's just knowing me. Anyways.

Long story, short, I didn't cross the bridge alone. After about four minutes of crying hysterically, my teacher, Mrs. Peggy, picked me up, and carried me across the rainbow bridge. I don't remember my exact feelings toward my scene, but they probably were not positive. Now, whenever I see someone who was in my PreK class, and we talk about our past life's, it always comes up. And, on top of that humiliation, I have a video. Sometimes, I will glance back at my childhood videos, and laugh at myself. I will keep rewinding the hilarious scenes, and brag about what a funny kid I was. And, as for the humiliating scenes, I fast forward.

Ever since then, I have been the same way. I get choked up when I hear the words "Oral Presentations". After those dreadful words come out, my body shuts down. I go into panic mode. My head starts to pound, to the rhythm of my heart. My palms get all sweaty, and the "butterflies" start to enter my stomach. I have not yet to find a cure for this illness, but I will need to soon!

For all my oral presentations, I have been through the exact same steps. First, when the teacher calls my name, my heart sinks. Then, I feel the many pairs of eyes watching every single move I make. After that, I feel like there is a butterfly gathering in my stomach. I get the Worst migraine, and my eyes start to explode with tears. It always feel like there are waterfalls behind them, trying to break free. And, the worst thing about the crying is I can't stop it. Once the viewers see your eyes are tear-filled, they know something is wrong, then they will concentrate on your every little movement. Great, more eyes. After all of that madness, it seems like my mouth and my brain are part of two different bodies. I mumble on my words, and sometimes I sound like I am from a different country. Then, along with my mumbling, I start to talk super fast. When I talk fast, no one can understand me. After that, I get the look from the teacher, who I was trying to avoid. When I finish my presentation, I hope to God no one has questions, then I hurry back to my seat, and but my head down. I avoid eye contact with everyone around me, and just start to take deep breaths. That usually doesn't help.

I wish I knew why I do this, but, it is something I will just need to grow out of. This "disease" makes me SO upset sometimes, because I know that I can do it, I just over think it and psych my self out. I am always told I have such a bubbly personality, and how crazy it is that I can't get up in front of people. And, I repeatedly reply with the same answer every time the comment comes up.

Tomorrow I have to sing poorly in front of fifty-four students, and about ten teachers. Non-stop I keep re-playing the bad outcomes in my head. I keep imagining what will take place, and how well I will preform. I imagine me falling well singing, or even worse, not even making it to the stage. I imagine being in the back, in the fetal position, but I am determined I will not let that happen.


The reason for this life story on my blog is because I am trying to clear my mind. Bringing in the good, and taking out the bad. All of this bad, with be left in this blog. I am determined to boost up my self-confidence, and achieve more. I want to be able to get up in front of people and dance until I can't dance anymore, and speak to people without having to worry about crying.

I will write tomorrow about what an amazing job I did, and how my self-confidence is through the roof. But, until tomorrow...Thanks for listening. :)

The Future Of The Future.

Kids these days are just so amazing. They have their own sense of humor, their own inside jokes, and they are always so loving.

Yes, I know I may be considered a kid, but I am technically a teenager. Practically an adult in five months, and twenty days, but who's counting...Anyways, Kids are great. They always know when something is happening, and they have questions prepared. They always have hugs ready for when they are needed at the most. And, my favorite, they are always fun to play with. :)

Playing with Kids, is like reliving your childhood. You got the building blocks, the imaginary games, and the use of blankets as cloaks. Cloaks, by the way, are ALWAYS necessary. If your sick, wrap yourself in a cloak, if you are tired or you want to read a good book, curl up with a cloak, and so on...

Well we are on this subject, who actually "curls" up when they read? Don't you just sit? Or, maybe stand if you were in a difficult situation, anyways.

Kids are fun little people. (Not addressing the actually "little people", who are just regular people too.) Am I the only one who thinks it is cute when Kids are dressed up as elders? I think it is the most cutest thing in the world. Just Sayin'.

Not every kid is the same, which is a plus. That means in the future, it will carry on with differences in others. It will be the same as the world today, but it will be missing out on the gas prices, and all the Carnies. Ewwww. I despise Carnies, no offence to anyone who is reading this, who actually is a Carnie. So, sorry. But, it's just an opinion, and I am sticking to it.

The future will be ran by the kids of today, so, already I am telling you how amazing it will be. They will drive to work in their Hover Cars.  Better yet, they don't even need to leave their homes to go to work. They will all have hologram projectors, which will direct them to their important jobs. And, don't worry about the "not so good jobs", they are taken over by robots. And, the robots were surprisingly invented by a kid of today's time.

The future will be so great, that the people of today will be looking down from above, or looking up from bellow, (what ever your lifestyle may be), taking it all in. They will be looking over their children with tears in their eyes brought on by "proud-ness".

The kids of today will do an amazing job running the future, I just know it. The kids are great, and their morals are even better.

Social Sacrifice.

There has never been a time where people could communicate and express themselves as instantly, and as fast as we do now-a-days. I can not believe that there was actually a time in life where, in order to talk to someone, you had to write a letter. It seems like nobody writes letters anymore!

Personally, I enjoy writing. I like writing in different ways, and trying to impersonate others writing habits. I love the feeling of holding a pen in my hands, and the noise of the paper crunching as my hand moves along it slowly. I always feel like I am creating something so amazing when the pen touches paper. Sometimes, I feel if I use slow strokes, I can draw like an artist, but then, I look down and it looks like the work of a five year old. It still always feels like I'm creating something so magical when my pen touches down on the paper, even if it is just a doodle.

When you are forced to physically write something out, you are always cautious about messing up. But, now with all the technology we have today, you can go back and delete something without worrying about a mark. All we have to worry about is pushing buttons. I, honestly don't even notice how many times I mess up. I just did approximately five times just in that sentence alone. It's crazzzy! Your finger slips, easy fix, push a button, you need to remember something, press a button to copy, you need to check the spelling on a word, easy, just hit "spell check". It's absurd how much we actually take for granted. We are spoiled!

Back in the day, (and this is from ALL my experience), you probably had to scream outside your window in order for people to know what was going on in your life. "Today I woke up, and had a piece of toast. Going shopping later!!" I bet your neighbors would get pretty sick of you, especially if you are the type of person who likes people knowing everything about your life.

Even on Facebook, which we take for granted. Facebook was made so you could catch up with old friends and family, not to tell your whole life story. I, personally don't want to see that on my "News Feed", and I bet others feel the exact same way. I don't want to know every detail about your day, and where you are at every moment.

Now that everything is electronic, and easy to use, we can e-mail, text, Facebook, Tweet, Skype, instant message, *Blogggg*, Face Time, oovoo, and SO much more. We take it for granted. Every person can automatically express there feelings, thoughts, or opinions through their phone, computer, iPod, or any other crazy inventions I missed.

It's considered "CRAZY" now to pick up a phone and talk to someone too! When did that change? If you want to talk to someone it has to be through instant message? Now, if you call someone, they start freaking out as if someone were to die. And, then you would simply reply with, "I just wanted to talk..." People would think you were crazy! "Did you hear that so-and-so called me yesterday, just to chat? That's crazy, I know." Again, I like talking on the phone, but for anyone who knows me, I like talking in general.

It's also really awkward talking with someone face to face, especially if you already stalk them on every account they own. You would talk about their amazing trip to France, but you already read fifty five statuses about it, and saw over two-hundred pictures.

When you think about it, it is crazy how much time and energy we use just to be technical. We spend hours stalking, reading, or writing back to people. And less time talking in person. Wouldn't it be better to talk to someone personally, then to stalk them? We really sacrifice a lot in life when it comes to technology.

It is literally, taking over us.

Toilet Paper Fight.

Any shopping trip with my family is always a good show, especially for the innocent bystanders. It's always a different scenario between my sister and my dad. I am going to be honest here, sometimes they act like they are five year olds, but, I love them. Plus, they make the shopping experience a one for the books.

Every time we go shopping it's chaotic. Sometimes we get looked at weird, or we over hear people talking about the "Crazy Family in Aisle Seven". But, we usually are already cleared out of aisle seven, and on to the next in a matter of seconds. My mom pushes us all out, so the bystanders can't get a good look.

Today, when my mom called me on her way home from work, asking me to go grocery shopping with her, you could imagine how hesitant I was. Then she spoke the words I have been waiting for. "Just me and you!" To every teenage girl, well, maybe just me, that was music to my ears. I love being alone with my mom. We talk about "girl" things, and anything else I can't bring up in front of my sister and my dad without being laughed at. Shopping with my mom is the BEST! Sometimes, I get some extra stuff, and if we are clothes shopping, I get to overload, because Ashley is not there. It's amazing!

When my mom got home from work, we embarked on our shopping journey. We usually grocery shop at Wegmans, but since it was a school night, we went somewhere close to home, Walmart. To me, Wegmans is the God of all grocery stores. It's clean, it has awesome food, and if you are lucky, they are handing out free samples! :) Walmart, is half as clean, has "great value" food, which is not that "great", and they don't handout free samples. Well, at least I think. But, anyways. Wegmans is the Bomb. Sorry Walmart.

The one thing I love about Walmart is seeing all the people. Sometimes, they look like they just rolled out of bed, or they look like they just rolled around in mud. They are called "The People Of Walmart". I wish I was clever enough to think of that, but I wasn't. My mom and I did not look like we fit in there.

After getting a bunch of groceries, and some snacks I picked out, we headed to the checkout line. The checkout girl wasn't as nice as the people at Wegmans. We were not greeted with a smile, or a nice "hello". We got a weird look, and what seemed to be a grunt. After the checkout, we hauled our heavy cart toward the parking lot. As we were loading the car, my mom decided it would be funny to hit me with one of the bags, so, to retaliate, I grabbed the huge twelve pack of toilet paper and began to swing it. As I lifted it towards my mom, the whole thing broke. The plastic ripped, and the twelve toilet paper rolls went flying back into the cart. My mom picked one up and threw it at me, and soon enough, we were playing dodge ball in the Walmart parking lot. People were staring and probably Facebook Updating about us.
"Watching two idiots throw toilet paper at each other at Walmart, no big deal. Text up the cell."

Yeah, we were still being judged as the crazy family, but at least we weren't in aisle seven!

November Rain.

Monday's. Everyone goes through them. Sometimes, but usually they are not the best day of your week. Your back to school, or in other's cases work. Let's be honest here, no one enjoys Mondays. So, as you can imagine, I was thrilled to be coming home to a stocked DVR full of my shows, barely any homework, and a comfortable couch.

By 4:00 the DVR was empty, and my homework was done. My little sister and her friend Connor, who is considered "family" at our house, were begging me to play Hed Banz. This was an offer I could not refuse! I absolutely LOVE Hed Banz, I am convinced it is The best game on this earth. Hed Banz is a game where you don't need to be athletic to play, or smart, you just need your brain. You get this really "stylish" black, strap back, headband, and a card with a random person, place or thing, printed on it. The other players get to pick out the card, and then place it on your head. You, then use Yes and No questions to figure out what you are. Every time you guess your card correctly, you get a new card, along with a chip. The chips are really important in this game, so, if you are the type of family who loses game pieces, this might not be for you. But, anyways. The chips can be turned in, in exchange for a hint from the other players. If you decide not to use hints, you save up your chips, and first one to five wins. Just like any other game, there is a catch. The Timer. Sometimes being pressured by a timer shows the competitive side of people, including me. Occasionally, the timer will force me to stand on top of tables, screaming random questions at the other players.

We were playing a pretty heated game for about twenty-five minutes until, my little sister got upset. She couldn't figure out what she was. Her card said "Walt Disney". We always try to be fair, and help her out because we know that if she is not doing well, then the game will soon come to an end. We practically set her up to win, but she still wasn't getting it. She kept asking bazaar questions that didn't even pertain to the information given to her. "Is it a Strip Club?" "Can this person be eaten by me?" "Does he like the color purple?" and my personal favorite..."If this person was a squirrel, and he was sitting on my lap, would he be nice enough to share his nut's with me, or who he bite me, and take my nut's?" Obviously, I didn't have an answer. I was grateful that the timer was up.

As Ashley was telling us how unfair the game was, she was interrupted by a giant flash of light, and a BOOOOOM!!!!! That interpretation doesn't even cover how loud, and scary it was. My immediate reaction was to jump half way across the room, into my sisters arms. We all looked at each other as if there was a dead body lying in front of us. Ashley swore she heard a noise from the garage, so the three of us got up and started walking ever so slowly to the door. We went down the hallway about .2 miles per hour. Our shaking hands were interlocked, as the sound of thunder went through our ears. Connor, being the man, was pushed to the front to open the door to the garage. As the lightening and thunder sounded louder and louder, we pushed Connor through the door. There were several antique bottles on the ground that my dad collects. I was so pleased to see them all in one piece, but that didn't make everything better.

We walked back into the house cautiously looking every which way. I ran into the kitchen to pull out some candles, and flashlights, just in case. I, as the oldest, tried to settle Connor and Ashley down, but, I couldn't. The thunder was over powering my voice, and the lightening was shining brighter than the lighten candles. I sat down with my head in my knees. About, thirty seconds later there was a knock on the door. We all jumped as if it was a massive thunder clap striking again. I walked silently to the front door, and jumped, being the shorty that I am, to see over and out of the window. There was a very shady man standing on my front porch. He kept knocking over and over again. I quickly "shushed" Connor and Ashley so he didn't hear us. I didn't want him to know we were home, because we were by our self's. After four minutes, he left.

We went back to the family room to continue talking, but there wasn't much of it. We were all in shock, but mostly scared out of our minds. I didn't know what to do. I turned on my IPod music, and started singing. Soon enough Ashley and Connor joined in, we were all harmonizing pretty well, until there was another knock on the door. The music stopped, and I ran back over to the door. I jumped up to see TWO men this time. They were just standing there. The men knocked for about three minutes, and then finally left. Didn't they get that we weren't home the first time? I got on my hands and knees and crawled to the front window to join Ashley and Connor. The men were walking on the grass waving at our house. Could they see us? It was impossible for them to see us. We were on the ground, with our faces hidden behind window shades. There was absolutely NO way they could see us. We were all questioning why they would keep showing up. Maybe they were trying to recruit us to their crazy religion, or maybe they were trying to sell something in the pouring rain. Then the one reason came up that I was dreading to hear. Connor said "What if they wanted to break in and steal us, and all your things?!?!" We all knew that was not true, but the possibility still lingered in my mind.

Monday's ususally are not this crazy at my house, but this one defintitely set's the bar higher for the upcoming ones.

Typical Sunday.

Here's to my first blog post, and in hopes for many more. :)

This blog post has been on my mind alllllll day. I have been debating what to write about, and what stories to tell first, nothing came to mind. I would right about what an amazing day I had, but that would be a lie. It's a Sunday. Our average Sunday is sitting around waiting for Monday to hit us. So, we did what us Mohler's do best, we waited for Monday.

It was a surprise when my mom said she wanted to clean the WHOOOLLEE house. Well, not the cleaning part, but on a Sunday? Really, mom? Sunday is such a lounge-around kinda day. Watch some movies, maybe take a mid-day nap, or just sit on the computer all day and stare at an empty blog page. (By the way, that was not me.) But, anyways...We had to clean. My mom is like a cleanaholic. She loves when everything is clean, even if it is not hers. When we go to other people's houses, she's always the one who you see cleaning up. Yes, it's nice, but not when dinner just started, and you haven't even picked up your fork. That, to me, is just pure craziness.

We cleaned for about four hours, it was torture. We vacuumed every floor, washed every window, and we dusted every table. Now, your asking yourself...that took four hours to complete? No. That alone took about forty-five minutes. It wasn't until my mom was feeling spontaneous and wanted to clean out the basement. Yikkeeess. That was a bad idea.

My little sister has a "school" set up down there, including four desks, which included her "teacher" desk, a television, a gaming contraption by the name of Wii, which I only know how to use very little of, and a bunch of miscellaneous toys, and board games. I only go down into the basement to do laundry when I am told to, and that is it. I am terrified of my basement. It's just creepy. Even when I do laundry, I make sure the door is propped open with something, all of the lights are on, and my mom is standing at the top of the stairs giving me a pep talk. That's sounds bad, but I am sort of a scaredy cat.

So, we cleaned the WHOLE entire basement, which was a MESSSSSSSS. We cleared out everything in sight, and sorted it. All the Christmas Stuff in one section, and then the same with the rest of the Holidays. We put up the Thanksgiving decorations, which means, in two weeks we will be taking them down, which also means we will be cleaning again. Yay...

I love cleaning, don't get me wrong, but, I just don't like cleaning as a family. My sister and my dad are like "Best Bud's" so, they are always horsing around, then my mom gets mad, and starts treating us like we are four. I got away for about twenty minutes of the chaos, which was AMAZING! I said I was going to clean my room. My mom fell for it, my room is ALWAYS clean. I can't live in a mess, I would go Crazzzzzzy.

With this "Cleaning Fiasco" thrown at me today, I am exhausted. I think I may go lay down anywhere in my house, maybe even the floor. I might as well, considering it is clean.