Any one got a treadmill?
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Thursday, December 21, 2006
40 questions!
1. Are you wearing a necklace?
yep..jen fry just gave it to me.
2. What is the last thing you got in the mail?
University application form
3. Crush?
i don't like the word crush...
4. What color is your shirt?
black
5. How many bedrooms do you have in your house?
4
6. What song are you listening to?
apres moi my regina spector
7. What was the last mall you've been to?
lancaster.
8. Are you alone?
indeed
9. Do you have any older siblings?
yeah X2
10. What was the last thing you ate?
pizza
11. Who was the last person to come over to your house?
No clue
12. Who was the last person to call you?
John
13. Who was the last person who texted you?
don't have a cell phone
14. What should you be doing?
writing an essay thats worht 30% of my final grade and i havn;t started.
15. Who is the last person you IMed?
Matt
16. Did you go out to eat yesterday?
nope
17. What are you thinking right now?
thinking about sitting in social studies class in grade 6 on sept. 11th when we found out that the twin towers had been hit.
18. What color are your pants?
PJ's! gray with little snow men
19. What color is your keyboard?
off white
20. What do you feel like eating/drinking?
redbull
21. Are you in college?
not yet
22. What is the last phrase you wrote?
good good.
23. Are you bored?
nope..don't get bored easily..to much to think about
24. How many teeth do you have?
all of them minus 3 and 1/2 wisdom teeth.
25. Do you wear glasses?
yep since grade 7.although most don't remember that i wear glasses
26. What color are your shoes?
bluish
27. Last thing you drank?flat 7-up
28. Last kiss?
saving that.
29. What are you doing right now?
procrastinating
30. What are the last words you said?
is E.R on?
31. Do you have clothes on?
yes
32. Best part about today?
varity show at school
33. If you could be anywhere right now where would it be and who with?
on the top of a mountain somewhere on a undiscovered island, enjoying solitude
34. Do you like llamas?
yeah..beacause they give us fleace
35. Do you have a cut on your pointer finger?no but i have 2 scars and a hangnail
36. Where is your cell phone?
non existant
37. Do you have any friends named Robbie?
nope.
38. Do you have any friends named Nikki?
yepp
39. Do you have any friends named Mary?
nope
40. What were you doing last night?
i hung out with a girl who speaks very little english.Then watched the world trade centers. then stayed up thinking about it the entire night litterly.
1. Are you wearing a necklace?
yep..jen fry just gave it to me.
2. What is the last thing you got in the mail?
University application form
3. Crush?
i don't like the word crush...
4. What color is your shirt?
black
5. How many bedrooms do you have in your house?
4
6. What song are you listening to?
apres moi my regina spector
7. What was the last mall you've been to?
lancaster.
8. Are you alone?
indeed
9. Do you have any older siblings?
yeah X2
10. What was the last thing you ate?
pizza
11. Who was the last person to come over to your house?
No clue
12. Who was the last person to call you?
John
13. Who was the last person who texted you?
don't have a cell phone
14. What should you be doing?
writing an essay thats worht 30% of my final grade and i havn;t started.
15. Who is the last person you IMed?
Matt
16. Did you go out to eat yesterday?
nope
17. What are you thinking right now?
thinking about sitting in social studies class in grade 6 on sept. 11th when we found out that the twin towers had been hit.
18. What color are your pants?
PJ's! gray with little snow men
19. What color is your keyboard?
off white
20. What do you feel like eating/drinking?
redbull
21. Are you in college?
not yet
22. What is the last phrase you wrote?
good good.
23. Are you bored?
nope..don't get bored easily..to much to think about
24. How many teeth do you have?
all of them minus 3 and 1/2 wisdom teeth.
25. Do you wear glasses?
yep since grade 7.although most don't remember that i wear glasses
26. What color are your shoes?
bluish
27. Last thing you drank?flat 7-up
28. Last kiss?
saving that.
29. What are you doing right now?
procrastinating
30. What are the last words you said?
is E.R on?
31. Do you have clothes on?
yes
32. Best part about today?
varity show at school
33. If you could be anywhere right now where would it be and who with?
on the top of a mountain somewhere on a undiscovered island, enjoying solitude
34. Do you like llamas?
yeah..beacause they give us fleace
35. Do you have a cut on your pointer finger?no but i have 2 scars and a hangnail
36. Where is your cell phone?
non existant
37. Do you have any friends named Robbie?
nope.
38. Do you have any friends named Nikki?
yepp
39. Do you have any friends named Mary?
nope
40. What were you doing last night?
i hung out with a girl who speaks very little english.Then watched the world trade centers. then stayed up thinking about it the entire night litterly.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Birches
Birches
Robert Frost
When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy’s been swinging them.
But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay.
Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-coloured
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun’s warmth makes them shed crystal shells
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
You’d think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed
So low for long, they never right themselves:
You may see their trunks arching in the woods
Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground,
Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun.
But I was going to say when Truth broke in
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm,
I should prefer to have some boy bend them
As he went out and in to fetch the cows—
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
Whose only play was what he found himself,
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
One by one he subdued his father’s trees
By riding them down over and over again
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not launching out too soon
And so not carrying the tree away
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
To the top branches, climbing carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It’s when I’m weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig’s having lashed across it open.
I’d like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth’s the right place for love:
I don’t know where it’s likely to go better.
I’d like to go by climbing a birch tree
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches
Robert Frost
When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy’s been swinging them.
But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay.
Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-coloured
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun’s warmth makes them shed crystal shells
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
You’d think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed
So low for long, they never right themselves:
You may see their trunks arching in the woods
Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground,
Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun.
But I was going to say when Truth broke in
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm,
I should prefer to have some boy bend them
As he went out and in to fetch the cows—
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
Whose only play was what he found himself,
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
One by one he subdued his father’s trees
By riding them down over and over again
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not launching out too soon
And so not carrying the tree away
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
To the top branches, climbing carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It’s when I’m weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig’s having lashed across it open.
I’d like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth’s the right place for love:
I don’t know where it’s likely to go better.
I’d like to go by climbing a birch tree
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches
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