Extreme Couponing

Have you ever seen the TLC show, Extreme Couponing? Well, I'm not that "extreme", but I am couponing!

A few days ago, I was watching TLC, because, honestly, who doesn't love those crazy shows...but, anyways, an Extreme Couponing marathon was on, and I decided to watch one episode. ONE episode.

At first I thought it was preposterous, cutting up zillions of coupons and then doing math...(ewwww math) to figure out how to get things for free, and to get things half off. It just seemed so time consuming. The episode I was watching was about a girl named Jamie. She talked all about her family, and about how much toilet paper they go through, and things like that. Then it showed her in her "couponing" room, which was filled with file cabinets everywhere. After that, she went to the grocery store. She shopped around, and for everything she had a coupon for, she snatched up as much as possible. Then, she raced over to the overly nice cashier, handed her over 1,000 coupons, had a little problem, but then it was resolved by the manager being called. After all of that, the cashier says, "Your total comes to $1,902.63 without coupons..." then takes a dramatic pause, and continues.."and after coupons it come to, $103.72."

WHAAAAT?!?!??

How in God's name does that happen...?!? Saving over $1,000 on groceries, seriously?!? That doesn't even sound possible. Who even buys over $1,000 worth of groceries!

After all the congratulating, and the (seeming effortless) putting away of the groceries, they show her huge stock pile and show how they have enough mustard to last them a million life times. It is a seriously crazy show.

Well, I am not writing to tell you that I saved over $1,000 on groceries, or that I have enough mustard to last me until the end of time. I am writing to tell you that I was an extreme couponer.

This morning I woke up because, got the coupons from the back of the news paper that usually end up in the trash, and started cutting them out. I felt inspired! First I started cutting every single coupon out, thinking "Hey! Let's just get it!", then realising my mom probably wouldn't let me save $1.00 of blue hair dye. So, then I started reading the coupons and thinking, reasonably, if it was worth it.

After several cuttings later, I had all the coupons cut out and ready to go. I have never wanted to go grocery shopping this bad before.

My mom and I got camera ready (just in case we did save big! That way we were already ready for the camera crews) Duuuuhhhh. Then, we head out for our journey. Every aisle we entered we would grab a coupon, grab the item, and then high-five.

After all the coupon cutting, and all the high-fiving, we ended up saving a little over $80.00 on groceries! It was insane!

Saving $80.00 on groceries is not as good as $1,000, but I am just an Extreme Couponer in training.

Growing Pains

In the last few days, I have noticed a few major things in my life. From the title of my blog, you are probably thinking that my knees are hurting from growing, well, they're not. And, don't get my hops up that I will grow anymore because I don't believe I will...

But, anyways. For anyone who knows me, I am a very emotional person. I take things to heart. Everything. I am a crier. Personally, I wish I wasn't but, it's just the cards I was dealt. The last few days have been extremely emotional for me. I blame my emotions on the growing pains.

It is painful to grow up and now I am just realizing that. Every since I can remember, I wanted a family and to be married right away. Now, I am noticing how fast this year has gone, and how I can, in fact wait.

This year was really tricky for me. I switched to a different school, not knowing anything. Every time I think of the beginning of the year I think of a part from my favorite Dr. Seuss book, Oh, The Places You'll Go!

"You will come to a place where the streets are not marked. Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked. A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin! Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?"

Well, I went in. At first, the streets were not marked, and some windows were lighted and some were dark, but, I adventured on, just like the book.

This week was the last week for the Seniors at my school. Watching them from the first day of school and thinking 'I can't wait to be them', I anticipated for that day. Well, that was before I developed growing pains. My growing pains made me realize that sooner or later, I will be in the same position the Senior class is in right now. I will go through my last day of school, my last day wearing a uniform, and my last day of high school. It actually really hurts to think about it. It hurts just like growing pains.

I have realized that I have never laughed and smiled so much in one year, it is actually unfathomable.

Everyday that I go to classes, I develop more growing pains. Everyday, classes get harder, tests become longer, and homework loads become voluminous. Every single day that passes, my growing pains add up, and by the time I am a senior walking through the doors of my school one last time, I will have enough growing pains added up in order to go on in life.

For me, that seems extremely scary. Entering a new chapter in your life, going into the unknown. Just like the book. Going somewhere, where the streets are not marked. It's just unthinkable. Some say it is not fair that we grow up, and I agree. I enjoy the growing pains that I have now, and I feel like I just can't take anymore. But, that's life.

So, bring on the growing pains. I'm ready.

Sorrow To Suprise!

All week long, (starting last Monday) I had been in the worst mood ever. And, I am not just talking hitting my arm, and falling on my face. I am talking about being in tears everyday, always bumping into things, bad moods at every hour of the day. Now, that's what I am talking about!

Everything that could go wrong, was going wrong. I was beyond over powered by homework, I was behind on my research project, and I was assigned waaaaaaaay to many pages to read for just one night. On top of the school work, I had softball every single day, and because of that I didn't get home at a reasonable time. I would be up for countless hours finishing homework, and then get ready for bed. On some nights, I would notice as my head hit my pillow, that I was getting in bed at such an absurd times such as 12:30! I have NEVER, EVER gone to bed that late on a school night before. On Thursday, I felt like such a bad kid, I couldn't even fall asleep. I'm just a really, really bad kid...what can I say?

Anyways, after my bad week at school ended, I had the weekend to catch up on all my homework, and that is exactly what I did. I stayed in my room for eight hours straight, (minus bathroom breaks, and a little snack here and there), on Saturday and did my homework. THEN I was thinking that I had the rest of the weekend to finish my homework so I decided to take a break, BUT I forgot my friend asked me to go to the mall with her.

In a frantic, I woke up early Sunday morning to get the rest of my work done. I spent an additional three hours on my homework, and then I looked at my clock and noticed it was 12:30, and my friend was picking me up at 1:30 for the mall. Thinking about how much work I still had to get done, I almost cancelled on my friend, but I didn't.

When I was finally ready, I was waiting outside for my friend to pick me up. I see a few cars pass by, and get excited, but, it wasn't her. Then, out of nowhere, a limo bus comes driving down my street, and I did a double take. I look at my mom, who is now smiling uncontrollably, and I see all my friends running at me.

The limo bus took my friends and I to Niagara Falls, Kelly's Country Store, Mississippi Mudds, and Blasdell Pizza. It was THE best birthday party I have ever had.


It turns out that I have one of the best mothers EVER. To anyone who thinks they can compete against my mother, let me know, and we will arrange a challenge. She. Is. Better.

Thank you to everyone who helped out with planning, and keeping it a secret from me. It really was the best surprise of my life!

Extreme Writer's Block; A Disease, OR A Crime?

Hello. Yes, this is Amanda Mohler. I know exactly what you are thinking, you probably thought I dropped off the face of the earth or something crazy that would cause me not to write. I have gotten a lot of "Where are the blogs?!?" and "I keep checking, but, nothing is there!". To everyone who has addressed me in the past two months, I am sorry. I am going to try to keep writing during my insane life. Well, at least I will try!

I needed a way to show people that I was still alive, and just not writing blogs because of my severe case of writer's block. (It sounds like a short term medical problem) I am healthy! Just to be clear!

I promise I am going to start writing again, it is just hard between my school work, and softball, which is taking over my life! BUT, I love it. Absolutely LOVE it.

Ummm, nothing "blog material" has happened to me today, so I am going to ummmmmm, give you the forecast! Sounds like a perfectly good idea! It has BEAUTIOUS outside! If you haven't noticed, you might need to get out from underneath your rock. Go outside and get some nice fresh air, and a nice golden tan, because it will most likely snow tomorrow.

Well, I am going to stop writing because this is really unnecessary. I just wanted everyone to know I was still alive. :)

Blog you later!

Wait, You Are HOW Old?

Ashley is my little sister. Keyword: little.

I had many different names for this blog picked out, such as, Times Have Changed, OR, Eleven Going On Sixteen. But, I think the one I picked suites this blog nicely.

Anyways. Tonight I had the pleasure of going with my dad to pick up my sister and her friends from their "Crazy Friday Night Party". Actually, it was at an ice skating rink, but it was packed just like a party. When I walked in, I was expecting a sign out sheet, maybe a few friendly snacks, and a nice circle of middle schooler's singing songs. I now learned to not set my expectations so high. There were kids EVERYWHERE. Girls hanging off of boys, a few hugs in the mix, annnnnd,m one boy had his arm around another girls neck. The kids, well the word "kids" is not suited here. The kids-who-think-they-are-teenagers, were not in a circle singing songs, they were all in little clicks chatting away. The juice boxes they should have been drinking were substituted in with Red Bulls, and the sign out sheet was nowhere to be found. I thought I was in a club.

Some of the girls in this "club" were dressed in very tight, skinny jeans and sparkly boots. They had V-necks that met their bellybuttons, and jewelry that was a bit too flashy. First of all, when I was their age, overalls were the coolest thing. EVER. Second, my favorite shirt had a pony on it, not the words "Hollister".

When I walked in to this so called "ice skating rink", my sister and her friends were talking to boys! BOYS! As in males. Yes, I know exactly what you are thinking. "At their age?!?" I know, I know. Ashley always comes home and tells me scandalous stories about the people in her classes, relationships. "Oh, well so-and-so broke up with him because she wasn't in the same second period class." Or, "Yeah, they broke up. It's no biggie, she got a new boy." This is middle school, yes I know. And, yes, I am baffled too.

As I was bending over to take off my shoes when we got home, I slowly raised and looked up to a 5'6" girl. Now, me being 5'4", I was shocked. I keep telling myself I am going to grow in many ways, but I know I am not going to. This girl was tall, and very "chesty", if you know what I mean. I immediately rolled my eyes, and walked into the kitchen. Stop eating whatever you middles schooler's are eating, or give me some! I need to grow!

After that incident, I walked into the kitchen to get a drink. For some odd reason, they all followed me like I was their master. They were all staring at me with wide open eyes, which made me notice one girls eyes were very dark. "Are you wearing....MAKEUP?!?" What is happening? Does anyone else feel alarmed about this? I don't even wear makeup, and a sixth grader is? What. The. Heck. If they are only four years younger than me, then in four more years, second graders will be wearing makeup. And, then in the year twenty-thirty, preschoolers will be wearing makeup! It's basic math, and logic.

Ashley is my little sister. And, now she is my closely watched, little sister. Keyword: closely watched.

Papa-Paparazzi.

The other day while I waited in line to be cashed out at Walmart, I stumbled upon the magazine rack. Every time I am waiting in line, I always take a quick look to see what is going on in the "Celeb" world. As I look through, I notice that my favorite actress was faking a pregnancy, Lindsay Lohan is in jail, again, and my favorite celebrity couple is going through marrige "differences".

After reading all the juicy and personal details about the celebrities, I flip through the pages past the advertisements and the clothing of the year. I come to a stop at the section titled, "They are JUST like us!".

There, you see a picture of Justin Bieber getting pulled over, Lady Gaga tying her own shoe, and Taylor Swift steeping out of her front door. Oh. Em. Gee. They are just like us?!? That's absurd! After you get over how "they" are just normal people, you see pictures of Jennifer Aniston through her front window, making coffee.

As I stood in the middle of a check out line, looking at the celebrities only one thing crossed my mind.
"What would happen if paparazzi was taking pictures through my front window? What if TMZ really saw what happened in the four walls that keep me safe?"

That would be a problem.

I could see it now. My family would make the front page of every magazine in the check out line. People would be wondering why my little sister was standing on top of a table, beating on her chest like a monkey. Or, why my dad was running around the house screaming.

The article about us would be long, maybe a four pager. People would look at pictures of us all laying on the living room floor wrestling, or playing a heated game of Monopoly. They would be amused by the pictures of us all throwing pillows at each other, or how my little sister is on top of me. The next page would be about how my dog would rather have a treat over sitting and staying. Under that would be a picture of my dad chasing my sister and I around the dinner table with a spatula. People would laugh at our embarrassing pictures.

TMZ would make a fortune just on one family, alone. They would already have titles picked out for the articles to come such as, "The family who clearly has issues.". Or, "You thought your family was weird? Read this article!"

Readers would be amused by the pictures of me dancing and singing around the house. Or, the occasional "attempt" of the worm by my dad.

After thinking about this, I will no longer be looking at the "They are JUST like us!" page. I will keep my head down, and just nonchalantly pass my mom the groceries. I am glad I am not famous.

Blank My Dad Says.

As I was thinking about this blog overtime, it came to my attention that my title is a television show. Except the word "Blank" is substituted in for the word, well, you probably know what it is. And, NO! I will not say it.

Anyways.

The that CBS television show is about a struggling writer and blogger, can no longer afford his rent, so, he is forced to move back in with his father. As time goes on, the son can not focus with all the (insert bad word here) he says. This reminds me of my life.

My dad is a great man. He is brave, stylish, and very random. He says things one couldn't think of saying. Just like men, sometimes he acts up, which results him into becoming an eleven year old again. But, I am okay with that because 1. He says the funniest things. 2. All my friends are, like in love with him. And, 3. Well, he acts like a crazy person, and I like that!

Sometimes he says things like, "You young Whipper-snappers are just crazy with all your hip lingo. What exactly are you saying? It's just a mixture of random letters, BRB TTYL G2G. What? Can't you just say be right back, or talk to you later?"

Sometimes he will send me random pictures of things throughout the day with a message like, "I saw this car, and I thought of you immediately.". That message came with a picture of an ice cream truck. Like I said, he is RANDOM!

Sometimes my mom will say "Oh, I have to Whatchamacallit" and then my dad will answer with, "Ewwwww, that sounds gross!" Or, "Oh, my, gosh! That sounds like fun! Can I come along?"

Sometimes I will be in the worst mood, and he will "attempt" to cheer me up by telling jokes like, "Do you know why the chicken crossed the road?". I will answer, muttering "Why, dad?". And, then he just won't answer, or he will say something idiotic like "Because he did, stop nagging me!".

These are just some "Blanks" my dad says on a day to day basis. I'm not a writer who can't afford her rent, but I'd I was, I would probably ask a friend if I could live with them. If they question me about why I am not living with my parents, I will say "Because of the Blanks my dad says".

The Hostess With The Mostess.

Did you hear that the company Hostess filed for bankruptcy? Well unfortunately, it is true.

Today my mom was "The Hostess With The Mostess".

Our family friends were over today, which is always a blast for my sister and I because they are boys. They play "ruff", they are not afraid to slap shot on girls during a heated game of mini sticks, and the best part, they eat A TON! On that note, my mom had to make sure we had enough food for lunch. She ordered out from a place called Page's Paradise Island. For those who don't know what the "Paradise" holds, I can sum it up for you. Page's is a children's place. It has an indoor pool in it, a arcade room, lasertron, and a rock wall. It sounds fun, but believe me, it smells like sweat and chlorine from the second you walk in, until you decide to leave. (Which, by the smell, will be very soon.) There are little kids running around barefoot, dripping water everywhere. It is just a fiasco. (Vocab word!)

The only reason why we decided to order from there is because my neighbor generously gave my sister and I gift cards for helping him. My mom thought it would be a good idea to buy takeout with them, instead of using them to go inside and embark on that journey.

When my mom was gone for almost an hour, I wondered what she was doing. But, to my surprise, she was taking a journey into the Hostess store. When she came home she told us the whole story about how the worker named Nancy was just handing her things for cheap prices.

"Nancy just kept putting things in my cart, telling me offers I couldn't refuse!"

Long story, short. My mom came home with four boxes of strudels, five boxes of pies, two boxes of cupcakes, one box of Twinkies, four boxes of Zingers, four loafs of bread, four boxes of doughnuts, and some small individually wrapped goodies that Nancy kept throwing into her cart. Talk about a lot of sweets. After us kids cleaned up our drool that was falling from our opened mouths, we quickly picked out what dessert we wanted and indulged ourselves into a Hostess adventure.

Today, my mom truly was The Hostess With The Mostess.

To Be Continued.

The three words I dread to hear. "To Be Continued". Those three words are the reason I stayed on my couch for an extra hour today. They are the reason my chores didn't get done on time. THEY are the reason why my bladder was full, for two and a half hours!

Every now-and-then, a show will have an amazing plot that you get caught up in, and then you notice that there are only five minutes left. You freak out, and then ask yourself, "What's going to happen to her? Is he going to die?! They CANNOT get back together!". You think about how in the world the show is going to squeeze in forty-five minutes of information needed to finish your show. And then, as the time expires, those three words pop up.

"To Be Continued"

Sometimes the words appear on an all black screen, with a great, stylish choice of font. OR, they will show up on a cell phone the main character that you care so much about, is holding. Those three words always come as a surprise, especially when it is not wanted.

The couple who you had hoped would make it, is now fighting. The curious wife, finally found her husband with another woman. There was a complication in a very important surgery. Annnnnnnnnd, TO BE CONTINUED! It is extremely annoying, especially if you get really into your shows, like I do. The show seems like it is ending well, and then everything hits the screen like a 3D movie. It's chaotic! Things are happening left and right. A fire broke out at one house, and then down the road, a dead body was found. The story line was failed to be finished, and the girl you had hoped escaped out of the fire, was shown in the last scene laying on the floor. Then, To Be Continued. It ruins everything.

Then, after you piece yourself back together from what had just happened, you press the play button to continue the continued. (That sounds really confusing) When the "To Be Continued" episode begins, it shows the scene that made you heart race. It shows the same people, in the same positions like nothing had been changed. It shows the couple who were fighting, resolve their problems. The wife filing for a divorce. And, how the patient who was told their surgery was a routine surgery, is now undergoing several other surgeries, but this time not so routine.

Those three words were the reason why my couch had my butt imprinted on the cushion. The reason why I was sprinting to the bathroom when the show was over. And why I got in trouble for not finishing the dishwasher.

When my mom asked why the dishwasher wasn't done today I replied with, "Well, it's..."

To Be Continued.

"Can Somebody PLEASE Help Me?!?!"

Ashley Marie Mohler. My sister. Ever since birth, she has always beat me. Whether it was a pound heavier, or how cute she was, she was always winning. I would never expect that she would continue beating me throughout life.

About two months ago, Ashley discovered the ability to take me down within 0.4 seconds. Sometimes she will use it just to show off in front of her friends, or she will just push me down to make a point. When I see her coming, my body freezes, and I just drop to the floor. Yes, I am a baby, but, she can really hurt somebody. If you don't believe me, you let me know and I will arrange a fight between you and Ashley.

Today, when we got home from school, my mom called asking me to take out some chicken for dinner. As the phone was snug between my ear and my shoulder, and my hands in the freezer, she decided to attack. She grabbed the chicken bag from me and started to hit me with it. At first, I was laughing because, well, I was getting hit with a bag of chicken. That just sounds funny to me. After the third swing, I started to feel the pain. I tried to make the insanity stop, but she set down the chicken, pushed me down, and dragged me across our kitchen floor into the battle arena. (AKA, the living room)

She started with the same old moves, pushing me down, grabbing my arms, and repeating "Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself?" I know why, because you are HITTING ME WITH THEM! What a foolish question! After the childish games, she goes into Sumo Wrestler Mode. She jumps on me, and pulls my hands behind my back. Sometimes, I feel like I am getting arrested.

Tonight, as we were all sitting in the living room talking, Ashley started to approach me. I looked to my left to see if my mom could see the fear in my eyes, but she was too busy typing. Then, I looked to my right to do the same for my dad. He saw me, and he knew I was frightened, but he knew what was going on. Ashley got inches away from me and too a dramatic pause, **Dramatic Pause**,. She grabbed my foot, and started to pull. I fell off the couch, and onto the floor. She dragged me to the center of the room so everyone could see. She got on top of me, and began to hurt me.

I waited to see if my mom or dad would stop the madness, but they were just laughing. " Can somebody PLEAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSE help me?!?!?!? Anyone!!! Please, she IS HURTING ME!" She pounced again. "PLEASSSE!!!! I am begging you!!" No reply, followed by no help. She started slapping my face with my hands, so I took advantage of the time and tried to roll her over. After a few times, it worked! I was in awe. When I got on top of her, I played the same childish game. I repeated "Hey Ashley! Why are you hitting yourself?!?! Huuhhh?? What did you say? Why are you HITTING yourself?!?" That didn't last long. She was back on top of me in seconds, hurting me.

After several, and boy do I mean SEVERAL cries for help, my mom stopped the pain.

Ninety percent of the time you may see Ashley and I, we are either bickering, fighting, or screaming at each other. Five percent of the time, we are crying because one of us hurt another. (I am not going to say who is usually crying...but it is definitely not me!) And the last five percent or the time, we spend snuggling up together watching a movie, or helping each other out with something. We might have our fights, but at the end of the day we love each other. Even if the Good Night sounds like this...

"Good night butt face, I hope the bed bugs bite you!" Then in whispers, "I love you."

The Secret Is Out.

On Monday, I went to Apple Bees with some friends for a so called "dinner date", except 1. It wasn't dinner, it was lunch. And, 2. It wasn't a date, it was just sisters going out for lunch. I was anticipating to get a nice lunch, maybe a Cesar Salad, or a nice B.L.T, which I did, but it was followed by fish. Four fish to be exact.

After lunch, we walked over to Pet Supplies Co. where we saw animals of all kinds. We walked down multiple aisles filled with the non-ideal pet. The rodents and insects fell into that category. After we passed the cat cages, and the stickers for your car if you love your pet that much, I saw an empty tank. I started speeding up, because I knew it wasn't another desisting rodent, or a tarantula, it was a fish. But, not just one fish, there were multiple fish! Big ones, small ones, ones with strips, ones with dots. (I feel like I am reading a Dr. Seuss book.) There was a whole wall of fish.

There were large fish, who's price tag read waaaay to much for a fish, and some medium sized ones that required special water and such, and then there were the small ones. All living in their own tank, swimming together playing fish games. We called over the salesman to tell us more about the fish, but I was already sold. I knew I wasn't leaving that store without a fish in hand. He told us about how they were only thirteen cents (SCORE!!) because they were food. Those poor fish would sit in that tank all day long, hoping and praying with their little gills, that maybe one day someone would stop and save them from the madness. And, that is where I came into play.

I looked into the tank staring at over a hundred fish, when my eyes locked on the perfect fish. She was white on top and orange on the bottom. She was perfect. She was the definition of perfect. The name popped right to mind seconds later, Ellen DeGeneres. Perfect! Her name had to be as great as her fish-like look. When I said I wanted to save an innocent life, I started a chain. My sister, and our friends wanted one too. We were saving FOUR life's in one day! It was unbelievable. When our friend's mother came to pick us up, we couldn't let her know about out secret friends. So, in a hurry my sister, and friends took off their coats and used them to disguised the fish. I was smart enough to stay warm, and just put the plastic bag inside my coat. On top of feeling unbelievable, I felt like a genius.

As the mother's car pulled into our neighborhood, I looked back at my sister with a frazzled look on my face. I was trying to mouth her a plan, but she didn't comprehend. When the car pulled into the driveway, we said our goodbyes very quickly, and booked it into the house. We ran upstairs to put the fish in our rooms until we came up with a better plan. After the fish, Ellen and Steven, were settled into their new homes, my mother insisted on asking us a million questions. Including "Why did you guys run up stairs so fast?"


On Wednesday, I felt like a champion because I have hid the fish from my mother for more than twenty-four hours. My mom would NOT be okay with a fish in our house, let alone my bedroom, but I saved a life. That was my explanation if anything "fishy" happened. (See what I did there?)

Tonight while checking my Facebook, my friends mom found her children's fish hidden in their closet. She posted a picture, and soon my mom saw it on her News Feed.

"Amanda, why are there fish in (your friends') closet?"
"Ummmm, I am not really sure..."
"Then why did you comment on it and say yours died?!"
"WE SAVED A LIFE, OKKAAAYY??!!!?! Just don't go upstairs!"

After that my sister and I ran upstairs and confronted my mother with the fish. Unfortunately, Ellen passed this morning. I was heart broken, and I didn't know who to talk to considering I talk to my mom about everything. So, I had to pull it all together for school.

When my mom took a picture of Ellen while laughing hysterically, I could only think of one thing, our time together. Over the course of four days, Ellen and I became best friends. I was thinking about making friendship bracket's, but hers would just disintegrate in the water. She was my friend for those short four days. We shared secrets, and the same tap water. It was crazy how close we were. I loved her with all my heart, and no fish will ever replace her.

This weekend, I am planning on cooping with this death in Ellen's honor by buying more fish. I will go out to lunch, stumble into Pet Supplies Co., go through every aisle until I see the tanks. I will purchase new fish from the same tank Ellen was from, and treat them like sweet little fish.

This blog is dedicated to Ellen Degeneres (The Fish). She was a great friend, and an even better swimmer. 2012. You will always be loved.

Miss. Not-So-Tough Girl.

My little sister Ashley knows all my weak points. She knows where to kick, where to punch, and where to tickle. When I am not looking, I get tackled to the ground in seconds screaming for help. When I am laying on the couch, the television turns off in a flash, and out come Ashley like it's a WWE wrestling match.

A while ago, she used to be the one afraid of me. I would step toward her, and she would run the opposite way. And, I am embarrassed to say, the roles have switched.

The other day, Ashley had a friend over and decided to take me down. I was laying on the floor of our living room, playing with my new phone. I heard her coming, but nothing came to mind because she was with a friend. Maybe they were getting themselves a snack, or going to watch a movie like any normal eleven year old do, but no. She was coming for me. As I was laying on my stomach enjoying my game of Angry Birds, Ashley sits on the back of me. I told her to get off calmly, and she failed to listen. So, I rolled over. That was a BAD idea. At the time, I thought it was a genius plan. I thought she would fall off, or maybe think I was getting up resulting in her getting up, but, sadly, no. She was sitting on top of me looking me down with The Grin. Her Grin is like a half smile, with a little bit of the eyebrows added in. It is freaky.

She sat on me, as I screamed for her friend to come helped me. But, I think she was part of this whole plan. She sat on our couch, just staring and laughing uncontrollably. I couldn't believe she thought this was actually funny. Then as Ashley turned away to look at her friend, I tried to break free. She shot back like a rocket, grabbed both of my hands, and held them above my head. I didn't know what to do. Again, I tried to break free from her trap, but I was useless against her super eleven year old strength.

Today, while she was laying on the couch, I tried to rebel. I turned off the television, and walked in the living room with "My Grin", which was just a smile, because I didn't know the art of The Grin. I thought I would "kill her with kindness", again, it seemed good at the time.

I walked up to her slower than a turtle hoping for an announcer to scream my arrival throughout the whole house, but there was silence. Ashley quickly turned to me and said "Put the T.V. back on, or you will pay! I will take you down!!" I kept walking slowly towards her, but now with a scared look added to my smile. But, I had to stay strong. I jumped on top of her in hopes to see fear in her eyes, but she just gave me The Grin. In a matter of seconds, we were back to point A where she was sitting on top of me.

Tonight while I was getting an apple out of the refrigerator, she said "You better get me one, or else." Personally, I didn't want to figure out what "or else" meant, so I picked up the most perfect apple in the bag, and handed it to her.

At first, I thought I was being tough, but it turns out she was.

"This apple is bruised on the side, get me a new one."
"NO!"
"Oh, look-ey here, we got ourselves a Tough Girl."

Let's just say, she got a new apple, and I got a new nickname. Miss. Not-So-Tough Girl.

Twenty, Twenty, Twenty, Twelve.

Twenty-Twelve; Man, do I like the sound of that! It's actually, kind of catchy. Twenty, twenty, twenty, twelve. Imagine it to the beat of Moves Like Jagger, even better!

Every New Years is a new, and different experience for me. I never really had an interest in the whole "ball dropping" idea until two years ago. I always thought the ball drop was a BIG, stupendous event. A glass ball rushing toward the ground, reaching speeds of ninety miles and hour, smashing into a million pieces. That is exactly what I pictured New Years to be up until a few years ago. I was shocked when I saw a giant glass ball, being lowered down at 0.4 miles an hour on my television screen. At the time, I couldn't believe that society made the whole concept of New Years such a big ordeal. I would always have the same thought while sitting at the "kids table" watching the adults from a far, "Why is this event such a BIG deal?"

During those years, I still didn't understand it. I just thought of it as a way to skip my curfew, or stay up past my bedtime. To drink this amazing apple juice out of a fancy cup, WITH foam at the top. I thought that was the coolest thing. But, just like every little kid, I didn't make it. I would survive up till ten thirty, and feel like such a trooper, and then...CRASH! I would fall asleep instantly.

As the years went on, I began to understand New Years. I started to attend parties that were more up-beat. There were NO kid tables staring me down. I would make it past midnight, and if I was lucky, even longer. The amazing apple juice was upgraded to delicious grape juice. (NO ALCOHOL! Which, since I am on the subject of "no alcohol", I would like to preach. For anyone who's Facebook statuses I read on the night of the New Year, that were about parting with "booze". I would like to say that it doesn't make you "cool" to drink, it actually kind of makes you, excuse my language, but, it makes you STUPID!) Anyways, sorry for my venting.

Last night I went to a kid-friendly party. I saw some old faces, and met some new ones. Us kids were all in the basement hanging out playing games waiting for the new year to hit. After all of our games were played, we all found ourselves sitting around doing nothing. I asked everyone what their New Years Resolutions were. The younger kids jumped right on my question and answered with, well, little kid answers. "My New Years Resolution is to eat more candy!" "Mine is to invent a crazy slide that my mom will let me put in my room!!"

After everyone said their bazaar, and obvious resolutions, I came to thinking I didn't have one. All day I have been pondering about my resolutions. When I thought of one, I would write it down. My craziest one came to me while I was vacuuming my living room.

So, here are my New Years Resolutions to a better year.

1. Be more, Amanda Mohler. Embrace myself for who I am, and not be afraid of what people might think.
2. Change the world.
3. When I see a baby in a store staring at me, I want to make it laugh.
4. Rekindle some old friendships.
5. Become someones hero.
6. Enjoy my life more.
7. Cap the toothpaste when I am done everyday.
8. Learn something new each day.
9. Stand up for myself, and not become a dirty floor mat.
10. Help someone in need.
11. Try to read three books a month.
12. Have more patience towards my little sister.
13. Learn sign language.
14. Pass my permit test.
15. Stay in Cinderella's Disney Castel.

Twenty-Twelve. Yes, I was right, it does sound like a good year.

Happy Twenty-Twelve to everyone I know, and love. I hope this year brings you luck, happiness, and love.