lame joke for a lame post.

I have been trying for the past 30 min. to think up something I wanted to blog about…. but the creative juices just aren’t flowing today. I tried writing about the Eiffel tour, t shirts, iCarly, nail polish… but as soon as I typed the title in it just looked lame and I lost all my good ideas. sorry fellow bloggers, this post has brought nothing but lameness in its purest form.

Like everyone piled in the mini van with puffy coats, a billion or so gifts, and a few dessert platters. I like my space and even a ten minute drive to Grandmas house can turn into a bloodbath if I’m not in a good mood.  There’s just something about not being able to move my arms, the heater aimed right at my face, the radio barfing out the worst Christmas music I’ve ever heard, my hands getting dry and cracked, my brothers hitting each other in the backseat, my littlest sister yelling out my name to talk to me, my Mom yelling at my brothers to stop wrestling in the car, the stuffy smell you get with seven people and four different desserts all meshed in one car, and Emma sticking her finger in my ear that makes me want to jump out of the car and into oncoming traffic.

Just thinking of it now makes me claustrophobic.

NOTICE!!!

Chewing on pens is completely unacceptable. It’s a disgusting habit that some of my roommates partake in. This oral fixation is offering up a slew of germs and/or viruses to not only the chewer, but the person he/she passes their pen on too. When you put office supplies in your mouth you are sharing a dose of your infectious saliva with all your roommates. Although my writing utensils are heavily guarded, I still come across a chewed pen every now and then. The other day I found Brooke chewing on one of my pens – to retaliate I walked over and spat on her bed. I’ve reached my wit’s end with pen chewers – their filthy habit will no longer be tolerated. To encourage everyone to halt this behavior I will be applying a dose of an anticoagulant to all of the pens in the premises. Consider yourself warned.

The part about Brooke chewing pens is real, (I didn’t spit on her bed.)

Yes, we are both natural blonds.

So then we call up Jennie’s Mom and she informs us that Hyde Park is South if Logan. (its not) And we drive all the way to the Route 66 gas station with our faces glued to the windows searching for any sign(pun) of Hyde Park only to find it is actually North of Logan, according to the phone book in the Route 66 gas station. You think we would have given up by now but we didn’t! We went all the way to Hyde Park and walked in ice blowing wind to the location of the race which was over and didn’t even get our t-shirts because they ran out and gave our away.

On the flip side we did get some good rolls, but we hadn’t eaten a big breakfast so anything would have tasted good by then. We told the people in charge what had happened and they gave us little cards to pick up our t-shirts later and offered us some frozen fruit which we didn’t want because we were cold.

So that’s the story of how Hyde Park hid (haha!) from us and deprived us of our chance to run in the 5k for red ribbon week.