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.