Habri-elle And weekly wisecrack number something....

That is my latest and greatest nickname for Gabe. Poor little buddy never actually gets referred to by his real name. Anywho, he has, da, dada, DAAA!!! Provided me with a new wisecrack!!

So he was in class at school where he goes every day and loves every second of it. And he was, wait for iiiiit, TEXTING!! *Gasp* oh no, not that!!! Let it be any other activity besides texting!

Anywho, his teacher caught him of course, which happens with all good kids committing lesser crimes than your average deviant. And she said something along the lines of "Gabe, you're gonna have to stop texting and give me your phone."

To which he replies, while holding a finger up to her and continuing his text, "Give me a minute."

She was laughing so hard, she didn't have the heart to get mad him and through her tears of joy she said, "no one has ever asked me to "give me a minute" before!"

Ahhh, the life of a class clown.

Imaginary conversation

It's been a while. Believe it our not, I have had a blog post in the making for about a month now. But I hit blogger's block. Or I'm in it. Or I have it? I've never understood just how to use that phrase. Anywho, this is what I am SURE you are all DYING to say to me. And this is totally what I would say back.

You guys: "Hey, Savannah!"
Me: "Yeah?"
You guys "You haven't written anything in a while. I've been really bored and have nothing to do because of it!"
Me: "Yeah, I know. It's pretty rough I bet. I'm going to try to get something reeeaaaal nice put together to ease your boredom, okay?"
You guys: "Okay GOOD. Because my life is swiftly spiraling down into a theoretical pit of despair."
Me: "Well, we just can't have that now, can we."
You guys: "No. No we can't."

Phew, I'm glad we all got that off our chests!

Okay okay. Sorry for the intense stuck-upedness I just displayed. I know you guys would never say that. OUT LOUD, HA!!

Okay, I'm really done now.

Annnnnnd, I still have nothing interesting to post, sowwy!! But I'm sure something really dumb will come to my brain soon. Also, I noticed that I started thinking my thoughts in blog post patterns, which can't be good, can it? So maybe I just needed to cool the jets a little.

Peace and blessings! (I almost accidentally spelled "blissings" which isn't a word, but I hope you have "blissings too. You can decided for yourself how to interpret that.)

In my old age, which is now

As some of my close friends and fam know, I enjoy some good, old-timey crocheting. Scarves, hats, gloves, baby booties, blankets... I just loooove to crochet! (I don't know why, but I said that in a Julia Child voice in my head. It might sound funnier if you read it in that voice as well.)

Most of the time I receive some kind compliments on my work. To which I must humbly give most of the credit to the internet. I don't know why we even go to school anymore. But I feel like, and I'm trying to say this as humbly as possible, I've made some DANG CUTE crud!!

And everyone always asks me, "Do you just crochet, or do you knit as well?" And I tell them that I only crochet, because there are about 90 bajillion things I can crochet, and when I get to the bottom of that list, I will probably pick up knitting.

So I scan the internet often looking for new ideas, patterns etc to feed my never-satisfied crochet appetite. Until tonight. I have found something that brings to mind the phrase "all things in moderation" and makes me take a step back. It makes me pray that I never go TOO FAR with my crochet craze. It is really too amazing not to share with the world, and since the world obviously reads my tiny, one in a billion blog, here it is.

The best worst crocheted item ever

You're welcome.

And please stop reading the word "crow-shay" as "crotch-ette."

Counting Sheep

It's almost 2 in the a.m. and as per usuallllll, my brain isn't shutting up. So writing this blog post is my round about way of counting sheep. Besides, if I was going to count any animal, it most definitely wouldn't be sheep because they are probably the most boring animal on the planet and counting them would put anyone right to slee......oh right.

I'm going to say a couple things I am glad about. Keep in mind this is pretty much my mind word vomiting right now.

I'm glad that The Hobbit is finally out. I remember hearing urban myths that Peta Jecksin (New Zealand spelling) was making it waaaaay back in the times the Trilogy was making waves. That was like, forEVS ago. I use forevs ironically only. I was about 15. Anywho, nothing brings my family closer together than a hardy discussion of why Tolkien and all things LOTR are the greatest. I'm pretty sure the thought "what would Gandalf do" guided many of my major life decisions.

I'm glad that I and 3 other members of my family have birthdays shortly after "the holidays". You know that sort of mild depression that hits when Christmas is over and New Year's is around the corner? Well I'm pretty sure God knew I would handle this worse than the average human being and so He had me be born in January so that I could ask my mom for presents Santa didn't bring and He had my mom, dad, and older brother be born around the same month so that I could focus on other people somewhat and not be overly absorbed in my post-holidays blues.

This last one is random. But I just realized today that I am glad I spent a year working as a custodian. I am glad about it because now every time someone complains about their crappy job around me, I can be that annoying guy who is like, "you think YOUR job is crappy? I cleaned toilets for a year, talk about CRAPPY."

Uuuuummmmm, I think that concludes my session of counting sheep for the evening. Poor sheep. They are so darn boring. *yawn* Night, All!!

Hey, y'all

I haven't written in a while. Because I supposedly ran out of memory to upload pics and haven't decided what to do there quite yet.

But I do have some stories for you that have no pics.

They both involve my personal shame, so that should pique your interest.

I have locked my keys in my car 4 times in the last 5 months. It has never happened to me until this year. I am convinced that my dating life is to blame.

The most recent "episode" happened a few days ago. I was at the gym. I stuck my keys in my pocket as I was getting out of the car. In one swift, fluent, uncontrollable motion, I step out of my car, check my pocket for my keys, realize that they fell back onto the seat while at the same time slightly bumping the door just so it clicks but doesn't close all the way and I desperately shout "Nooooooo!" as I throw myself onto the door, desperately begging it to magically open up for me so I don't have to call my mom again and try to explain that it's not my fault through her ginormous sigh followed by an annoyed "Savannah!"

This all happened exactly one week after the last time I locked my keys in my car. (in the parking lot of Gabe's school, we had to wait there an hour for the breaker-inner guy to show up, all the while, Gabe was cursing me for making him remain at his school much longer than he needed to. Also, his Taco Bell lunch that I kindly bought him was sitting in T-mu, emitting the most pleasant beef aroma.) That whole story didn't really need to be in parenthesis, but it sounded right in my head. Anywho, I vowed last week to never lock my keys in again. But this just goes to show you that we really aren't at all in control of our lives. Right down to the tiniest detail of locking keys in cars. I give up. Vow broken, I now have no pressure. I wanted to just buy my own break-in kit, but I'd probably lock that in the car too.

Story number 2.

Gabe needed me to give him a ride to someone's house last night who lives not too far from our house. I decided I would just drive there barefoot since it was such a short trip. So I'm yelling, "Gabe, let's go!" as I run out the door. I literally mean run right now. Little did I realize it had been snowing for about 30 minutes and not only was the ground freezing cold, but it was slippery too, and I slid halfway across our walkway before coming to a stop spider-woman style on our lawn.

Moral to this story is don't give your little brother rides. Just kidding. Moral is, you should wear shoes in winter time and it's safe to assume the ground could be covered in that winter-y substance known as snow.

Peace and blessings!!