Ohanawana!

Everyone knows about those annoying bell-ringers for Salvation Army.

Did you know that tonight, I rang the bells and sang songs and everything? And my ears are ringing from it augh.

Ohanawana!

That's what you say when... I don't know. It's just a thing to say when we do this. We did it last year too. And I think the store that we did it at probably hates us because we sang Dr. Horrible and A Very Potter Musical and various other things and we rang a billion bells really loudly all at the same time.

I'm really tired now because of it. I didn't think that singing and Ohanawanaing and ringing bells and thanking people for their donations was as tiring as it actually is.

I thought I would have a lot to write on this fabulous bell-ringing topic, but I guess my brain just doesn't work because it's not even that late and I was bloofling today.

Have a llama.

All I have left to show of my adventure are two skinned elbows and several billion aching muscles.

So, as a few of you may know, I went on an adventure today. It was a very adventurous adventure.

First, I sat in my wife's car for an  hour and a half. We played Boxers or Briefs™. (At least I think it's ™'d. It's this fabulous game that's too hard to explain unless there are cards or something to show y'alls.

Then... WE ARRIVED AT SLIME LAKE.

Slime Lake is really called Lime Lake, but my wife calls it Slime. And I agree with her because it's super slimey and icky. Only the bottom, though. And it gets deep really fast, so you can hardly tell.

Anyway, we totally ate delicious foods and talked about random mangas and webcomics that I don't know about but I still know who the characters are and they all have insanely similar names like Fai and Faye or something and when people are talking really fast they sound exactly the same and it was soooo confusing. That was an extremely long sentence.

After we ate delicious foodies, we decided that it would be a FABULOUS idea to go and tube. I think we forgot that you need just a bit of upper body strength to tube. We also forgot that none of us people that were there has the required OVER NINE THOUSAND upper body strength level. So we spent an hour or three skinning our elbows and knees, trying to climb onto the tubes that hate us so. But it was fun. And I lost two or more of my bracelets in the process because I was too lazy to take them off. And they were both really cool ones. They were all beaded and one was from Mexico and the other was from Africa. Well, I guess the fish can be beautiful now.

After we had been yanked around enough and we couldn't feel our fingers or faces anymore, we stopped (after abandoning wifey), ate some more and then ran around in a graveyard. And by running around, I mean we walked really slowly and walked on gravestones and stuff and then sat on this conveniently placed bench and talked about chundering. It was very happy-making. And by the way, there really was a grave thingy that said Fish on it. There was also one that said Lazer.

Then I decided that we were bored, so we went back to the placey place and ate popcorn and played Chinese Checkers for all of five minutes and when wifey and I decided that we should swim before we had to go home, I smashed all the marbley things.

And THENNNN we went back into the lake, but this time we had NOODLES instead of life jackets and everyone was really lame and wanted to just sit on their noodles and talk, but I wanted to swim and try to drown people. But nooo, they wanted to stay floating so that they could breathe. Lammmmmmme. We swam for a while and waved at a boat. And Bethy-kun decided to ask us—really loudly while the boat was really close—if we should shout something awkward at them. Actually, it might have been the Turnip.

And then we were tired and went home. And I am going to be in so much pain tomorrow, I am so screwed.

So that was my lovely adventure today.  I need to sleep because tubing and swimming takes a lot more out of you than you would think.

I'M A BLOGGIST!

Golly. This is my first post. I was inspired to start a new blog and continue my sagging dreams of becoming a bloggist? blogger? (I think I'll go with bloggist. It sounds way cooler.) with a bunch of people that read this. I doubt that'll happen, but hey, a girl can dream, right?

I'm sure this blog will be forgotten about in a few weeks or when school starts and I don't have time or anything cool to write about. But here's to keeping my dream alive.

I should probably start off (well, it's a little too late to start off, but whatever) this post with explaining how the forking heck I got the name of this blog. It's quite simple, actually, if you'll just read this next paragraphy thing. They're not really paragraphs, though, since they're not indented. But each pseudo-paragraph is indicated by a fabulous little space inbetween each clunk o' wordies. It might be more than one clunk.

So in my sciencey class, we had to make a map/chart/whatever you want to call it of the layers of the atmosphere. It had to include things that are in each layer. Did you know that airplanes fly in the Stratosphere? That's like... ten kilometers up. And so on our map/chart/whatever you want to call it thing, we decided that we needed something extremely bad-arse to represent a plane. At first we were thinking 'HMM. J.J. THE JETPLANE. HE'S PRETTY SEXOY.' but then we realized that young J.J. the Jetplane was not sexoy at all. We thought harder. Maybe it would be sexoy if he was a teenage jetplane! And rebellious too! So we drew a rebellious teenage jetplane. He had sunglasses and he was purple with green windows (which makes me realize now that we were idiots, since I think he was red).

And that's the story of J.J. the Rebellious Teenage Jetplane. I'm sure I'll be telling it to my grandchildren when I'm old and frail and still (hopefully) blogging on this bloggy and I'm totally famous.

Just to clarify, my name's not anything related to Willy Wonka or Jetplanes. It's Erin.

I think that since this is the first post, I should give a little intro about all my friendies since I call them pretty weird things.

I'll start with my 'family'.

Ex-wifey(or any variation on the word 'wife'), Wuffles, Libby, Mother of my children. If you hear any of those names, I'm talking about Libby. She used to be my wife, but I divorced her a few days ago (and I can't seem to remember why). We got married in Vegas (by the way, I'm so serious about Vegas. Ask any of our children and they're vouch for me) at the end of November of 2009. And our marriage ended so tragically four days ago (if you count me writing this at 2:30 in the freaking morning as the fourth day).

Turnip, Molly, Molly-wobbles, Jew(I promise I'm not racist!), Son. She'll most likely be called Turnip. Sometimes I forget what her real name is. It's a long story about her being named Turnip, so maybe I'll have that in the next post or in the near future. She's the brain-child of ex-wifey, but she's my son as well. SO I SHOULD GET AT LEAST HALF OF HER NOW THAT WE'RE DIVORCED.

Bethy-kun, Bethy, Bethany, Radish, The Other Asian. Bethy-kun is, as you can tell, AN ASIAN. And she's really cute when she's not pissed off. She makes funny noises and is another brain-child of ex-wifey. I WANT HALF OF HER.

The Asian(again, not racist. He doesn't mind being called that.), Nathanael, Daughter. He's the one with three names. It's not our fault, it's just that he was never around when we came up with fabulous names for people. Stupid Asian. Brain-child of my ex-wifey, and she said that I could keep him but he refused and I feel unloved by my children.

The last person is someone who is not part of my family. :D

Ellie!, Nellie, Nellie the Heartless, etc. Ellie is a fab person who is mental and hates trolls like Tara Gilbsie, (I have no idea about her last name) the chick who wrote My Immortal, the infamous Harry Potter fanfic starring Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way. She's fab and weird and is in love with Jack Spicer from Xiaolin Showdown, a cartoon.

I don't know what else to write about.

Maybe I should say that I'm NOT crazy, if I do seem like it. I am a paranoid person with a lot of random, irrational fears. My room is the sexiest place ever because it has xmas lights and lighting up Chinese-type lanterns and the coolest posters you will ever see (some of the ninja, face, zombie, Harry Potter, Star Wars, iPod, ravioli, Obama, Gir, and various music people variety.) I think what's on those posters says a lot about me and I don't really need to say any more for you to guess what kind of person I am.

It's 2:44:35 in the freaking morning as I'm writing this and I should be sleeping because I'm being forced against my will (almost a little redundant, don'tcha think? It's needed) to wake up at eight or something (which, by the way is in like, five hours) and swim at a freaking swim meet for a team I'm not even on. Golly. I quit that team so I could stay up late and type and sleep in.

Goodbye my lovely few people who will read this.