Frozen

Here's some weird stuff I found relating to frozen:

Firey Elsa? How does that even... happen?

Well, I'm glad it wasn't that way in the movie, or everything would have burnt down... O.e

 

I wonder who plays this game.

OMG SO MANEH FROZENZ

 

Nature Elsa. Wut.

** EXTREME WEATHER ALERT **

DUN DUN DUN DUN
APPLES ARE PELTING FROM THE TREES
THIS DANGEOUROUS WEATHER IS IN AFFECT UNTIL THURSDAY, JULY 81ST, 2022.
RUN FOR YOUR LIVES. EVACUATE. NOW.

(Sorry.)
Here is the actually weather for this week:

Click to enlarge.

Ghrrrr! So, basically, the entire week will be straight precipitation, with one teensy little day that is mostly sunny? Dear me.
Personally, I think we have had quite enough precipitation lately--enough to cancel 2 days of everything, (which, when you add that to Saturday and Sunday and the Monday we have off for President's Day, makes a 5-day weekend! Yaeeyyyy!) and the snow is STILL EVERYWHERE. I am getting a little grass-sick -- like being homesick, except sick for grass instead of home.

 I really do like stepping in the snow, though. It makes quite a satisfying crunch.

Mwehehehehe.

Yesterday, I went to see the movie Frozen, which features a person named "Elsa", who is like so:


Hiyyyaaa! I shall now send a completely random explosion of snowflakes at thin air while making a slightly evil-looking face and daintily picking up my right leg as if I am not freezing cold already in this thin snowflakey dress-thing!!!!!!
 

(Btw, I ate a lot of buttery popcorn during the film. I ate at least half of the bag that I was supposed to be sharing among 3 of us.)

Ehe, sorry if this post was kinda weird. Actually, I'm not very sorry. U no like zis post?
Then--

NOTE: I got a little carried away.

Okay. So, I was eating apple pie, when suddenly a strand of dried hot glue fell into the apples. I dunno where it went, as it was somewhat difficult to see, but I may have eaten it.
What happens if you eat glue? Do you explode? (I hope not.)

In case you were wondering what I was doing with hot glue in the first place, it was this:

Soooo, yeah. Happy Valentines day!
Speaking of Valentine's day, I went to comment on my sis's blog, and then the word verification thingies said, "Love" and "Romance".... and I was like, "WHAAAT?!?!?!?! WHY?!?!?!"
Look at this weird thing:
I'm not sure that is going to keep out that many robots, as the text is very easy to understand. I mean, normally, the purpose of the word verification is so when a robot tries to do this...

 

then THIS happens:

Obviously, the robot can't read the text, because it isn't written in a generic-looking font.
But if it can understand the text, then THIS will happen:

 

 

 

Dun dun dun dun.

 

Writer's Block. Not that I seriously consider myself a writer...

For some reason, I used to write fiction. I don't know why, but somehow I managed to churn out random story after random story. They weren't excellent pieces of writing, but for some very odd reason I decided it was a good idea to write them.
It was terribly exciting, crazily tossing words onto the page, living in the weird universe of this story that was constantly taking over my brain.

<---- me when writing a weird story

But THEN, out of the blue, random stories stopped coming to me. Dun dun dun...

 I would stare at my computer screen, like, "WRITE!!" and then nothing would happen. Then I was like, "Noooo! Ideas, where are youuu? -sad face-"

Of course, there were many times before where I would write an opening paragraph and then be like, "No, this paragraph is not the way to go," and then delete it, and then write a new paragraph, and delete that, and then repeat that process infinitely.

But this time, it wasn't like I was just low on ideas and constantly contradicting myself.

It was just like... NOTHING!!! I could sit for hours without typing a word. And I exclaimed, "Nooooo! Writing, come to meeee! D: D: D:"
It was like:

Sometimes I think about the characters and their setting and what they ate for breakfast and the color of the walls in their house and their pet dachshunds trotting along and what they had for breakfast this morning for literally months before I get anything down into my document.
My mind during that stage normally looks like this:

CHARACHTER PERSON:

• Red hair (like, tomatoes. Seriously red.)
• Has a bunch of annoying siblings
• Does not like middle school
• Lives in an apartment
• Has a friend who moved from England
• Her mom is an actor!
• Moves to Canada?
• She meets a person named Olympia, who is constantly wearing ballet shoes
• Likes apple juice!
• Is very proper.

But for the past few months, all I could come up with for my character was something like this:

• Lives in New Zealand (?) Somewhere other than America, maybe? Russia!  Greece!  Canada! China!
• Has black hair No, no... Has really light brown hair? Does it even matter?
• Flying? Having a dream about flying (?)

Except all the ideas that are crossed out were not completely eliminated--just drifting about my brain, uncertain as to where they belong.

Somewhere during that phase of not knowing what to do with my character, I was wondering, "Should this character have 4 siblings?" and then I was like, "I only have one sibling. I don't know how it is to have 4 siblings, so I can't write about that. How dignified of me to try to write from experience."

And then I was like, "Maybe she should live in the countryside!" but then I realized, "I don't live in the countryside. There's no way I could write about someone living in the countryside accurately without people from the countryside being like, 'No, that's not how it is!'"

Eventually, I realized, "How am I going to write fiction if I can't write about anything other than stuff in my own life?? This is not going to work. Am I just going to have to write about myself? Because that's the only thing that comes easily to me now."

I actually really hate writing about my own life, for some reason. In the past, whenever something interesting happened in my own life, I exclaimed, "Let's write a story about someone who does that!!" instead of jotting it down in my journal from my own perspective, because I seem to prefer writing about the weirdo people I come up with to writing about myself. Maybe that's people invented fiction--they just didn't want to write about themselves.

But I couldn't write fiction anymore, so I made this dimwitted blog, (is it proper grammar to call inanimate objects dimwitted?) to write about my dull own life, because that is all I currently have the ability to do.

I just searched something along the lines of 'how to get rid of writer's block' and all the websites were like, "Just keep writing random stuff, even if it is just "the cat sat on the mat" again and again. Be free of your inner critic! Yayyyyy!"
And I thought, Huh. Maybe I should try that?
So I wrote the most utterly random stuff that came to my head:

(Warning: it makes no sense. I made no effort to write beautifully.)

I stared down at the fluffy water, in which a trout was snootily gliding about. Taking a seat on the banks, I dipped my chocolate toes into the walnutty fresh stream. Guppies nibbled the algae. Woot.

Iwoqfgeouardnlzfoienhgpso
Have you ever wanted a bust of a reindeer head for only 73 cents??? Well, now you can get one at www.bustofareindeerheadforonly73cents.com/.

"Here," said Oota, shoving the chocolate bar into my hand. "Take it. I don't like chocolate anymore."

"You... you don't like...? Oota, you love chocolate! You're the one whose username is ChocoLover6346!"

"I'm not talking to you anymore!" yapped Oota. Bursting into tears, Oota sprinted away into the sunset. I started at the chocolate bar, still sitting in my hand.

Deedledeedledeedledeeeeeeee.... PAINTBRUSH!!! #ihatehashtags

The derpy music floated into my ear like a cloud passing through my brain. The miniscule eighth notes seemed to explode as they took giant bites out of my sock drawer ever so gihrughughfdly.

 Even after that wonderful exercise, I still feel very uninspired.

Umbrellas are ANNOYING.

This was me yesterday:

As you can see from the glum expression on the penguin's face, I wasn't feeling too joyous (is that proper grammar? or would you say 'joyful'?) about something in the world.

Looking at the picture, you would probably infer that the thing that was bugging me was the pelting rain, but in reality, it was the fact that I had to carry an umbrella. I was like, "Why does this umbrella have to be over my head blocking me from the rain?! I want the raaaaaain!!!!"

But everyone else loved their umbrellas. They were like:



Yayyy! Our feeble heads are sheltered from falling liquid! We must rejoice!

Meanwhile, while I was glaring at them, I was fuming about the fact that I had to carry this stupid umbrella that I didn't want to use, and if I just dropped it then that would be bad, and this awful umbrella was taking up space and my poor hand deserved to carry something much more useful.
I was like:

And that is how the day went, until the rain cleared up a bit.

Adventures in Annoying The Computer

WAYS TO ANNOY THE COMPUTER:

1. Be born in the year 'yay'.

According to Google+, 'Yay' is not a valid year. It is very entertaining to annoy Google+ by defying it, and repeatedly entering 'Yay' and then punching 'Enter' despite its very specific command to enter a valid birthday. This procedure is practically, like, endless.

1. Search something random that makes no sense.

If you search a long and nonsensical sentence, the computer will explode trying to figure out what it means. Even if there turns out to be no results for "IAMAPIECEOFASANWHICHWOOT" it will just be like, "Did you mean 'IAMAPIECEOFASANDWHICHGOOD'?"

Click to enlarge.

1. Don't save.

No matter what editing/typing/drawing/posting program you are using, it is very likely that if you hit X without clicking 'Save', your computer will be like, "GRRRRRRR. YOU NEED TO SAAAVE OR I WILL EAT YOUUUU!!"

If you then click whatever the button is that says, "Uh, no. I was clearly just making random scribbles, and I have no intention whatsoever of stuffing this useless information into my hard drive," then your computer will be like, "RRRR! Okay, FINE. I won't save, then, you fjsjfisnfisjr human."

This post made no sense.

Bye!

 

Mangoes.

Look.
Look at that thing.
Up there.
Do you see what it is? Huh? Do you?
IT'S A MANGO. OH. MY. GOSH.

So, how exactly did I begin thinking about mangoes? Well. Today in band class, I was giddily playing my oboe in this one piece called Redwood Something-Something March, when I had a random flashback to this book I had finished the day before.
The book was called "A Mango-Shaped Space", and in it, the main character Mia has a cat called Mango. I kept thinking about Mango, and I was replaying the word so constantly in my head that it started to sound very weird and slightly exotic, as words often do when you repeat them so many times.
Then, as I was thinking all about the word mango, I somehow made a sudden and extremely shocking realization:

I need to eat a mango. Right now.

Unfortunately for me, I remembered that I was in band, not the Tropical Fruit Store, and the nearest mango was probably at least a mile away, if not several miles. That devastating fact alone hit me right in the stomach (which was growling) as if a giant mango had just hurled itself at me and then sped away before I could catch it and eat it. It was a terrible, horrible experience, waiting for band to end.
The rest of the day was entirely composed of my sadness and longing for the bittersweet taste of mangoes on my tongue. It suddenly seemed like everything around me could have been a mango. It was like:

 

 

 

 

 

I went all through Yoga visualizing yummy mangoes melting on my tongue as I flopped clumsily into "downward-facing-dog". Although I did get a very delicious banana on the car ride home, I spent the entire time wishing it was a mango.

When I got home, I was further devastated to find that there were no mangoes in the fridge! None!! Can you believe it???

As I scanned the fridge, all of the other foods that were not mangoes were staring at me like, "Pick me! I'm so yummy! :D :D"

And I was like, "None of you are as yummy as mangoes."

But then, JUST WHEN I THOUGHT THAT I WOULD NEVER EAT A MANGO AGAIN...

 

I noticed something magical in the verrrry back of the fridge--the back that is so far back that yogurt freezes when you house it there, and then you go to eat it and it is like a giant milky sherbert lump.

 

The thing that I found was this:

And then I was like:

And then the juice was like:

And then I was just like:

 

I let the mango juice gush down my throat, as the mangoey deliciousness made my taste buds stand up like hair does after you lean on something static-electricity-y.

It wasn't a mango, but it was surely, surely, close enough.

All to soon, my cup went from this:

To this:

 It was EMPTY.

There was NO MORE MANGOEY GOODNESS LEFT.

I stared at the cup like, "WHYYYY?? WHY COULND'T YOU HAVE HAD MORE JUICE???"

 

But then I realized there was an innovative solution to this temporary disappointment. All I had to do was refill the glass, and then there would be MORE MANGO JUICE!

It was like:

 

Can you believe it?

My fish

For the past couple months, I have owned a female betta fish who I call Genny. Her proper name is Genre--yes, "Genre" directly derived from the word that means which category of literature a book falls into.
How did she get this name, exactly?
Well.
At one point, when my sister and I were conversing about what her name should be, she (my sister) was like, "Genre!!! Doesn't that sound like the best fish name in the history of the universe?"
And it stuck.
I really don't know WHY we found it funny, but since both of our brains coincidentally decided to take a very long nap on the same day, it became her official name.

(That quote, the one up there that is like, "Genre!!! Doesn't that sound like the best fish name in the history of the universe?" is probably not 100% accurate, just FYI.)

Eventually, the conversation went overboard and we started wondering if we should name her Nonfiction, but I said NYUUUU!

You may think the life of a fish is really dull, but as far as I'm concerned, this is the most accurate summary of Genre's:

(This looks weirdly a lot like that 'Doge' meme thing... if you know what I mean... eehhehheh...)
I am almost positive that she goes on like that in a joyful loop 24 hours a day--that is, until she spots the little yellow container which contains her fish food. Then she is like:

 

And then, she totally starts to explode, as if not doing so will result in her not getting her precious food. If she could escape her tank's flimsy glass barrier and somehow scoot safely through the bedroom air, she would probably pound on my face until I opened the bottle, and then dive in to devour all its content.

But she can't.

So she explodes.

Like so:

My computer won't let me enlarge pictures anymore!!! Grr. D:<

Click to enlarge.

Once I actually drop the piece of food in, though, she has serious and somewhat troubling difficulty finding it.

(Notice the how disturbingly close the food is to her snout in the picture? I assure you, that was 100% intended.)

She looks at me with her innocent little donut-shaped fishy eyes, like, "Howww could you do this to me? D: D: D:"

So I often have to push the piece of fish food just so it is barely half a centimeter away from her eyeballs. And that is difficult to do while she is flailing around as shown in the first picture.

But once she actually realizes that she can truly reach the food, once and for all, she is really enthusiastic about eating it. She eats with flair, let me say. She thinks she's a crocodile. She snaps at her precious little orb with all the energy that a fish can possibly snap at her precious little orb with.

 

 

 

It's difficult to capture the true intensity of her forceful bite with my inadequate drawing skills and lack of a video, which would better show how she stalks her prey than a bunch of scrappy drawings of revolting orange finned things that may or may not be fish.

It took several tries to draw them, although it is seriously not worth it because nobody in the world actually reads this blog. : /

But she attacks her food.

Seriously.

She draws her self back, slowly and surely, then launches herself through the water, making a beeline for her piece of food. Then--and I'm not sure how she does this, since she doesn't have teeth--she rips off one half of the food, then swallows.

She then resumes doing this until she has swallowed the second piece of her food.

 And then, she is just like: