How to Name Random People

As mentioned before, Casey and I are in the same english class, but we are also a history class together. Both of these fall on Mondays so we spend all monday together (11:30am to 9:10pm). Having the classes together, we end up talking about the people in the classes a lot. But we faced a problem when we don't know the people in the classes names.


We came up with a solution to this, and it is to name the people ourselves. Some are creative. Some are not. Either way I'm gonna explain how we choose the names of people. 


Formally known a McGiggles, now known as Chops, he is a guy who sits two rows in front of us. His original name was chosen as he chooses to laugh at the most un-funny things. Also randomly. And I know we can't bash a guy for being happy, but he also chooses to NOT laugh at things which are actually funny. Odd. 


This is the first way of naming someone. You can take a personalty trait of theirs and apply it to their name. This process worked for Glasses as well. Glasses if a prime example of this type of naming. Known by her friends and family as Grace, we name her Glasses because she feels the need to constantly adjust her glasses. It occurs when she talks, when she is taking notes, or when she references her french class


We then changed McGiggles' name to Chops when he arrived one class with the makings of 'chops' growing on his face. He didn't even have sideburns before; he just jumped right into the facial hair spectrum. I would share a picture of them because the next class Casey and I did try (Boy did we try), but we didn't succeed. So here is an approximate picture of what his look like. 

Now, for Chops, we took a physical feature of his, and used it for his name. This is a second way of naming someone. This type of naming followed for people in our class such a "Guy-With-the-Hat, Right-Side-of-the-Room, Front" (we actually know his name, its Ryan), and "rude bald guy". 


We then have a third way of naming someone and that is by nick names. This is a recent additive to Casey and my name vocabulary, and originated by our classmate Paul. One day when Dean was missing from class, Paul mentioned something about Deaner. That name has now stuck.


Creativity is encouraged when naming random people. Try to avoid being mean, but ironic is sometimes accepted. Often the obvious names are the funniest, so don't be afraid to go simple. Its a crazy world out there, filled with many Stephanies, Jennifers, and Marks, so distinguish between them all with creative names that you can actually remember. :)

Memory Monday: Sparklers of Death

So sparklers.

They scare the living daylights out of me. Probably because they scarred me...literally.

It all started one Halloween night. I was in grade 2, so sevenish? I don't remember what I was dressed up as that year- but it was probably pretty epic as my mom was pretty creative with costume designs.

I lived/still live on a pretty awesome street. Everyone used to know each other and after everyone had made the rounds for candy collection we would all go to the top of the street to the rich peoples house where there was a soiree and fireworks.

I was standing beside the bonfire roasting a marshmallow when a lady leaned over me with a fistful of unlit sparklers. She lit them in the fire and as she was leaning back to hand them to whoever was behind me she dropped a few on my head.

I freaked.

Duh.

They burnt right down to my scalp, luckily only left a small burn and didn't even scab but it did leave an embarrassing bald patch on my head.

Its funny, I didn't really blame the lady for much. I remember re-telling the story to my pals at school the next day and saying that the sparklers were evil. My story got more and more dramatic and by the end of the day I had convinced myself that the sparklers had leaped out of the stupid woman's hand and were aiming to bore right through my skull to set my brain on fire.

Therefore, every time I see the fire spitting devils I instinctively check behind me for a lady with butterfingers; the keeper of the sparklers of death.

The End.  

How To Thursday : How to Draw

     By this point you have already seen my beautiful illustration of Casey and all the things hating her and her room. Today I will grace you with the knowledge of how to create your very own drawings that could have been done by your extremely dumb 6 year old sister. Who knows, maybe your mom will even put it on the fridge when you show her. It’s all about effort here, not quality.

Step One

     First, you need to decide what you’re going to draw. This is the toughest part, because you have so many options. You could just pick some things you like, or try to recreate something really pretty you saw (it never works...), or do what I just tried and google “what should I draw?”. It didn’t really work out for me, as this is the best result I got: “Draw a picture of a mime playing checkers with a dog wearing glasses and a suit, while sitting on top of a surfacing whale, as it rains rubber chickens with bow ties.” And that is just way too much for me to handle. So instead I’m going to go with the draw things you like plan. I like unicorns, mustaches, stick people, and simple settings. I feel confident enough in myself to put all of them together into one super picture!

So here we have my simple setting. Grass, sky, clouds. Look at me go!

Step Two

Now you get to add some more exciting elements. I will begin with the unicorn.

Goodness me, look at that unicorn. Such a lack of skill, it’s charming.

Step Three

I feel the need to add some delightful stick people for the unicorn to interact with. Stick people are the greatest because they take almost no time and they don’t ever really look all that good, so you always win.

Ta daaaa, what a sight. Two totally normal stick people. But there isn’t anything special about them, and I still haven’t added the mustache(s) yet.

Step Four

Here we get to put some flair, and personality into the picture. Because, let’s get serious, anyone could have drawn this. You can add as many or as few mustaches as you care to (this can also apply to your favourite things, like petunias, rocking chairs or disco balls).

Would you look at that...everyone has a mustache. How glorious.

Now you know how to create a beautiful, original drawing that could have been done by your idiot little sister. You’re welcome.

The Future Life of Kyla

So Kyla and I went on a road trip last weekend to Kamloops, BC to watch Kyla's lil sister play basketball. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the area, Kamloops is about a three-ish hour drive from good ole' Langley.  Kyla was the captain and I was co-pilot. We also had a mom of one of the other girls tag along so it was all good fun.

Since I suffer from terrible motion sickness, I can do very little on long car rides. I can't read, do crossword puzzles, word searches, cell phone games or focus on anything outside of the car for very long unless I want a week-long headache.

For some reason I can colour and doodle. No idea why, I'm no doctor.

So I was armed with my 96 pack of crayons and a sketch pad. Many doodles were produced and I also exercised my psychic abilities and predicted Kyla's future.

I shall interpret.

Kyla, that lucky gal, will be marrying Hugh Hefner therefore will be living in a mansion, duh, in Forks, Washington. You would think she would have Bella and Edward as a neighbour, but no, she lucked out and will be barbequing it up with Rupert Grint. Not wanting to show off their extensive wealth, they will be modest and drive around Winston- my 1989 Toyota Camry.

 Before the happy couple settles in, they will be honeymooning along Hastings Street, Vancouver- how cute!

Back in Forks, Mrs. Kyla Hefner and Huey (weird, thats Kyla's Dad's name), will have ten to the sixteenth power kids and a pet groundhog. I guess the extensive number of children caused Kyla to get a job so she became a trucker...awww yeah. 


If there are any questions on the possibilities Kyla missed out on, or you would like your own fortune told, just ask :D

Memory Monday: Drunk or a Kid

I had a hard time thinking of a memory to highlight from my childhood. Thats the thing about memories. You have to remember one for it to be a memory. 


Watching 'How I Met Your Mother' the other day I enjoyed the game Marshal invents called "Drunk or a Kid". For the game, Marshal describes something dumb he had done, and everyone else had to guess if he did it while he was a kid or if he was drunk. Pretty epic. 


When I was a kid, I did some pretty dumb things, and I was never drunk. One of the first things I did actually isn't a memory, its something I was told I did, and the medical record confirms it.


When I was around the age of 2, I wandered outside to explore my backyard and the wonders it beheld. There were so many things that were new and exciting. I'm guessing the things I found the most exciting were probably the blue sky, the green grass, and the grey rocks. 


Oh how I was fascinated by those grey rocks. Some were large, some were small. Some were perfectly round, and some...well they fit up the nose of a 2 year old real well. They fit in a nose so well that a 2 year old can't pull them out with their little tiny fingers.


Being the sharer that I am, I decided to wander inside to share the news of my new type of booger. Approaching my mom, I pointed at my nose saying "Rock Mom. Rock". Concerned and confused my Mother looked up my nose (ah, the joys of parenting) and discovered my friend, the rock. To my 2 year-old annoyance, both my parents tried to get the rock out. They failed and so off to the emergency room we went. 


At the hospital I was put in what some might call a straight-jacket and my head was strapped down (I was putting up a good fight). The nice hospital people put little pliers up my nose and after a few times were able to pull the rock out. (cultural) Woo! 


The moral of the story for this memory is that children should not be left alone with small objects NOT because they will put them in their mouth, but because they will put them in any place they think they can hide it the best.  

How To Thursday: How to Survive Traffic

So I have a horrible commute to my place of work, an average of an hour and forty five minutes.  It involves me waking up at a ridiculous hour and then driving half asleep through tedious stop and go traffic.

The way home is worse believe it or not. After entertaining children all day, my patience is usually worn thin and I daydream. 

When I first started this silly job (I actually love it), I used to get super pissed off when I would graciously allow someone the honour of merging in front of me and they would not wave thank you or anything. And I mean pissed off. I eventually got over it but I did turn it into a game which inspired this How To Thursday.

How to Survive Traffic

Now most of these are actually games, so I guess this is really how to turn traffic into a game...meh.

1. Count how many people wave at you for your awesome kindness of sharing your lane.
• Adaptation: Swear creatively every time someone does not wave.

2. People watch. There are many different ways to people watch.

2.1 Try and guess their occupation:

Obviously this guy is a hat model...duh.

Workaholic, he takes his work home with him.

2.2 Guess what they are thinking.

"Uhhh huh. Dis mah car. Jealous Barbie?"

2.3 When you notice your road mates are singing along to some music, try and find what radio station they are on. You epically fail if you realise they're listening to an ipod.

2.4 When you see someone diggin' for gold, make outrageous faces at them...

=

Adaptation: YOU pretend to pick your nose when you know people are watching, see what kind of faces you get back at you....maybe they're playin the game too :)

3. Lookin for shapes in the clouds. Oldie but a Goodie....also slightly dangerous when driving :)

A dog!

And finally....

4. Make rude acronyms out of license plates:

"150 menstruating bitchy vultures"....that sucks

Happy Leprechaun Day!

Memory Monday : My Life as a Young Scientist

     When I was a young’n, from when I was like 6 months old till I was 5, I lived in the most badass culdesac ever. There were built in friends (via neighbour’s children), block parties, and the best halloweens ever. Now, my house was nothing special. We had a big ass tree in the front yard, but that’s about all it had going for itself. But it was all about the neighbours, and the awesome stuff they had, that I used on the daily. The neighbour a few doors down had one of those sweet jeeps that kids can drive, which I took advantage of. Next door was a pool, and on the other side was a little old man that made me a rocking horse. Then a couple houses down on the other side was my best friend, who just so happened to have a hot tub, but I liked her for more than that. We were quite unique. It seemed like everything was created for us to play with, cover in chalk or generally ruin. This is all just background knowledge necessary to this story, as well as any other future stories from this same neighbourhood. Now, all of this is very exciting, but I am going to describe one of the key things I did during my reign in the culdesac.


     One of the memories that always comes to mind from when I was a little one, is the time that my dear friend and I woke up around 5am, and took it upon ourselves to fill my kiddy pool with dry dog food. For science. My mother recounts it, saying that she heard noises around 6am, and got up shortly after. When she found us, we were admiring our handiwork, with an empty dog food bag lying next to us. So in about half an hour, we had taken handful after handful from the laundry room to the backyard until the bag was light enough, when we used teamwork to drag it outside. This made the task much less daunting, because there was no more walking to do. The dog food plumped up slowly until it completely overtook the pool. We were successful. 

     I created this for you, so that you could vaguely understand the joy that an entire kiddy pool of this brought to me. It didn't work out so well, because it looks completely disgusting. I'm pretty sure it's because it's a different type of food.

     Anyways, while someone cleaned it up for us, we went and played with everyone else.

Apology Friday

So this is it. The first one. I hoped it would not be me, but it is. So here we go...

To Whom It May Concern, 

I would like to begin that there are no excuses for tartiness. Tartiness or absentee-ness indicates a lack of planning ahead or worse, that there is a lack of interest in the associated task. So I wont make excuses for my inappropriate behaviour, or here, a lack of appropriate behaviour. 

I missed “How To Thursday” because I forgot. Plain and simple. I had nothing else going on yesterday. All I really did was get an oil change, brought my mom to the dentist, watched some TV, started an essay outline, and went to a friend’s 19th birthday (HAPPY belated BIRTHDAY JESSA). There certainly was time to write a blog to teach people interesting things, such as how to make a paper crane, how to make fun of your mother’s driving habits, or how to organize a pantry. 

But I didn’t. And for my lack of participation, I apologize. 

I will face the ridicule with a head hung low until this blog is posted, and after then, it will hang lower. 

What I will do, in hopes to win back your affections, respect, and smiles, will write a blog of How To Stress Kyla Out During A Basketball Game. I sincerely wish you relish in my insanity, laugh at my small mindedness, and forgive the person who made an honest, but inexcusable mistake.

Forever your humble blogger,

Kyla

A Late How To Stress Kyla Out During A Basketball Game

My younger sister Caitlin is in grade 12 and she plays basketball. She really likes volleyball more, but my family makes her play basketball every year because we love it. Seriously. My mom is sending mass texts from Kamloops to 7 of my family members right now. Thats how much we we into watching good ol’ fashion high school basketball. 

So Caitlin’s basketball team is up in Kamloops right now playing in the provincial tournament. Last night they made it into the top four of the tournament and are CURRENTLY playing to get into the finals. 

Sports Canada has been feeding the games of the main court on the internet for the past few days. I had it open all day just waiting to watch the game but when I go to watch Caitlins game what does it do? NOT WORK. So here is how you stress Kyla out during a basketball game. 

1. Have it involve someone I know.

This will tear me apart. Especially if there are two people playing against each other. My conscious will have a melt down for who to cheer for. I’ll usually just sit there, trying to be neutral and shaking inside.


2. Make it an important game.


You know. Provincial titles, tournament games, league finals....oh man I’m stressed out thinking about them. Last year watching one of Caitlin’s volleyball games, I was so nervous I stopped breathing and didn’t notice until my eyes rolled back, ready to pass out. And volleyball isn’t my favorite sport. Basketball, I die before I realize I’ve stopped breathing.

3. Have an angry crowd. 


OMG. Catholics and Fraser Valley Semifinals. I do not do well with yelling going on around me. To have people yelling at the ref, at coaches, or at players I don’t like it. I’ve never seen a fight before and I never want to, so I live in fear one will break out in front of me and I’ll get hit.


4. Have someone sit behind me making comments.


I can't handle it. Lets leave it at that.


5. SAY ITS ON THE INTERNET AND THEN DONT HAVE IT.


I'm freaked out right now. Caitlin's game is on and I can't see it. The updates every quarter from my mom just aren't cutting my stress level down. It actually made it rise when she sent "7 - 22 (them)" instead of "17 - 22 (them)"


If i decided to live through tonight, I'm gonna have to kill her next time I see her.

Memory Monday: "Dumber"

This week is my lil sister's birthday, so I shall post a memory of her.

I am the eldest sibling in my family. This entitles me to perform evil acts upon my younger sisters. One of my favourites was April Fools day of 2003. I was thirteen years old, my sister, Jessa, was 11. She had been saving all her nickles and dimes since forever to buy a dog, specifically a Golden Retriever. I can't remember why  it HAD to be a golden retriever but that is what she was set on.

So it is the morning of April 1, 2003, and I am scrambling to come up with some tricks to play on the family by the noon cut off, why some fun sucker invented that the pranks end at noon? I don't know. I decided to write a letter addressed to my sister from some breeding kennel saying that they had a dog available for her to come look at. She had been on the waitlist for a while so this would be a big deal for her. Because I was pressed for time, I hand wrote the letter in pencil ( I couldn't find a pen) and stuck it in our mailbox without a return address, stamp or any sort of forged insignia to make it look like it had actually gone to the mail place; I was quite upset with my lack of authenticity but I wanted to get something done.

Now by the age of 11, one should have developed some street smarts yes? Not so for Jessa. The kid is a genius at school and sports and such but she earned the nick name "Dumber" (her best friend: "Dumb") very early in life.

So I was expecting her to just read it, tell me I am a jerk or something and then I would be commended for my efforts. Nope. She takes the letter, absolutely loses it : "MOMMM!!!! THEY HAVE  A PUPPY FOR ME". Then started running around planning where the stupid dog will sleep and what time they will go look at it and stuff. Because I hadn't planned this reaction, I hadn't developed a plan how to tell her this was an April Fools or anything. So I let her excitement continue for a bit then I ruined her life by telling her I wrote the letter.

I actually got in quite a bit of trouble for that one because she got pretty upset about the whole ordeal so I got the "Its not funny if someone gets hurt" lecture from my mother and stuff. Ironically, later that week we did get a phone call from a breeder and by June, we had a new dog.

Happy Birfday Lil Sis.

How To Thursday : How To Not Die in Brittny's House

     So in general my house is quite scary, this is with all lights on and all rooms checked. There is one truly horrible room that just feels like death. I do not like it. Anyways, I was inspired by the terrifying power outage that plagued my block on Thursday evening to tell you how to survive in my house.


     In this example, it is a normal day, and you are just alone in my scary, scary home and it’s probably very dark. (You are not a murderer there to get me, you are normal. And scared, in case that wasn’t clear yet.)


Step One:
     Turn on a light of some sort in each room, a lamp is nice, because it is an inviting glow, not a bright weird light like the lights on the ceiling. My whole theory here is that you don’t want the murderers/ghosts to know that you’re onto them. A lamp looks nice, like you’re just making the room look better. The tough room to make not scary is the bathroom, because who has a lamp in the bathroom? No one. But we’ll deal with that later. So congratulations! You’ve aced step one, you turned lamps on.


Step Two:
     Look in corners, under things, behind curtains, etc. We didn’t do this first because then you’d be looking for things that could kill you in the dark, stupid. Now, you need to be smart about the bathrooms. In my house, we’ve got two bathrooms with shower curtains and one with an opaque-y sliding door thing. Total bogus. With curtains you just fling them open as fast and violently as you can. The door thing tricks the mind because you can’t really see through it. But still, just open it with the intention of maiming anyone behind it. Step two is now complete! You didn’t find anything scary. Yet.


Step Three:
     Now to take care of the evil room. This room I spoke of before is the biggest challenge in my house. I do hope your home has a room like this. It is just plain awful. I don’t know why, but it has a bad feeling to it. I’m not the only one who feels this way, I swear. I bet that someone was murdered in it, because they did not follow simple steps like mine to stay alive. I tend to just close the door to this room, because I don’t want to see it. I pretend it does not exist. I suggest you do the same.


Step Four:
     Now that you’ve ensured the house is not currently overrun with death monsters, you can try to relax for a little while. I do my best to distract myself, mostly by multitasking. I am an expert at watching tv and being online at the same time. I am completely shut out from all scary things. I’m lucky enough to have pets, so I can blame scary noises on them, even if they are not the cause. It helps my cope.


     If you’ve followed these steps then you’re probably going to survive until someone comes home, or until you leave the house. Good job!

     Now this part is a twist! You followed all the steps, but then your hard work goes to shit because the power goes out. For me, the best way to get through being left all alone in a dark, awful house is to look at the least amount of stuff possible. Don’t use a flashlight to look behind things, too risky. Just choose one room, make it your haven and stay there. Light a lot of candles, like a lot a lot. You need noise, music is good, I got lucky and my laptop was about half charged. Bonus points if that works out for you.

     That covers just about everything, I wish you the best of luck.