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.

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!!"