Nasty Headache and Short Answers

Hello my lovelies...well, tonight I have not much to say. I have a killer headache, and sleep is calling my name. =_= So, I'll leave you with Short Answers, and hopefully I'll be all better tomorrow so that I can come and visit you all! :)


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What’s better, butter or cheese?

Cheese.
Why?
Because it’s more cheesier.

Not cheese ball, but cheese.
Why?
Because I hate cheese balls.

How are donuts made?

Flour. Mr. Sprinkles. Aaaaand…syrup. Sugar. And white frosting. There.

Sugar…right? And flour. Ok, the flour and mixed to dough, and make the dough round, and put some sugar on it and put it in the oven.

Why do the trees change colors in the fall?

Because it’s more cold, and they dry out.
Ok, but why does that make them change colors?
Because it dries them out and then they start changing colors, that’s why!

Because…Because I don’t really know about that.
Do you have a guess?
Huh-uh. Except for one…because it’s cold, right?

What do broccoli, carrots, and cucumbers all have in common?

You mean, what do they all taste like together?
No. What do they have in common?
Well, carrots are similar to…broccoli pretty much. And apples. They’re not sweet like apples, no they are sweet like apples they’re just not…yeah.

What does that mean?
Like, how are they similar?
Similar? What does similar mean?
It means like the same.
Ok, pickles and pickles?
No *repeats question*
Greens in one…and more greens in one…and more greens and more greens. Broccoli is actually greens, right? Mangos, they put stuff inside what’s sugary.

What’s a tapestry?

What’s a tapestry?
I’m asking you.
I don’t know.
You have a guess?
Uh…tap dances. Is that right?

What’s a tapestry?
I’m asking you. (again)
No way! What is a tapestry?
Do you have a guess?
Nuh-uh. Is it something you eat?
No.
Is it something you get arrested?
No.
Is it something you make?
Kind of.
How do you make them? I don’t even know what a tapestry is!

Going the Extra Mile

Last Christmas I discovered a new obsession. It's not that I hadn't thought about the possibility of the endless intrigue and devout experimentation this obsession would possess...no, I had thought about it many times, but thus far I had not had the opportunity to develop that interest.

My new obsession was...

The Rubik's Cube

I have been working on solving the cube for hours and hours at a time ever since that morning last Christmas. I haven't read any tutorials on how to solve it, I didn't get it with a manual...I've been flying freestyle.

At first, I thought it would be thrill enough to be able to solve the Rubik's Cube--how awesome it would be to show people that I could solve the infamous puzzle that had stumped so many! I was tempted so many times to settle for the pattern that some fellow geek on YouTube had discovered. I had even googled instructions, and slapped myself right before clicking on a result. The thing is, the longer I focus on finding my own solution, the more I become bonded to the idea...determined.

I find this similar to my walk with Christ. When I first accepted Him into my heart, I didn't care about all of the little details--the important thing was that I had a Heavenly Father and Savior! This fact remains true, but as I grow older and stronger in Christ, I want more and more to develop my own beliefs and reasons for believing things. This is one of the reasons that I'm SO thankful for my parents. Who better to help me discover the biblically sound rules, and the ones based in traditions of men? Who better to help me sort through the schizophrenic spasms of my mind?

I want a solution to the problems I share with the world...but I don't want it to be Luigi's solution...I want it to be mine and Christ's. Similar to the relationships between an earthly father and child, I believe my relationship with Him is unique--He has particular things to impart to me; talents, wise sayings to recycle on listening ears, hard lessons, and answers to the problems that life throws at me.

My Rubik's Cube is still in the works, but I'm learning the resolution, one small step at a time. And when it's all over....serenity.

Determined

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”
--Theodore Roosevelt

Wait....Your Baby?

It's been fairly common knowledge for the last several years that I absolutely ADORE Mustangs (like the car...not the animal). When I was 11, I wanted nothing more than a brand new, hot pink, Mustang convertible. A year later, I decided that a nice canary yellow Mustang GT was much more my speed--take note, I still get goosebumps when I hear that lovely engine roar to life from some nearby parking lot. At the ripe age of 13, I decided the vintage 'stangs were my favorites. Specifically, 1967, pink. In case you haven't noticed...I was obsessed with pink for a good majority of my preteen and early teen years.

Well, by the time I was 14, I had given up any hopes of ever getting my own Mustang. It's fun to dream, right? But it just wasn't realistic.

Hm....I was right on one account. I still don't have a Mustang....but my big bruh does! My awesomely amazing grandparents bought Jared a car! How awesome is that!?

No, it's not mine, and I can live with that. The important thing is that I get to drive it. *evil laugh* Ah my minions...my evil plan is unfolding so perfectly.

As for me...I've gotten over the idea of my dream Mustang...I've decided to focus on the far more realistic idea of a completely restored '67 Chevy Impala....black of course. Is that too much to ask? ;)