Only 2 days!

In two days we leave for Paris. The house is starting to come together. I'm gonna be a big sister. Again. I'm sooooooo excited! Since I'm moving downstairs, I have to move the final things out of the baby's room. Bye, I have no more to say, except that if I don't say bye before I go, bye. I'll write all about it after I get back, a couple days after the plane lands, (I'll have major jet lag right after the plane lands.)


2 days...

The Countdown begins!!!!!

Ah! I am freaking out, dudes! I am going to be in Paris in 5--count em'--5 precious days! We are leaving on Sunday, people! Aaaaaghh!! I have a lot to do! Clean the final things out of my room, (I'm moving into a new room), clean the rest of the house, pack my socks, and some of my shirts. It's all worth it, I guess, but man, we have a lot to do! Okay got to go!


5 days...

Okay, so I lied. (Short)

So today's post is about me promising to write more to you guys, but then neglecting my promises. I'm here to tell you that I'm going to glect my promises. (Glect was a word me and my mom made up. Mostly. It's the opposite of neglect.) So from now on, I won't make any promises. I'll just make strong feelings about the blogginess I'm feeling that day, and today it's strong. Most likely I'll write again today, but I'm not promising anything.

The only other thing I have to say in this post is I want to give a special shout-out to my dad, who's birthday it is the big 21, (don't worry dad, I won't tell the world your real age), and I hope you read this 'cause you rock, and the world deserves to know it.

It's also my step-grandpa's birthday who's also coincidentally 21! Amazing how that works, isn't it?! Happy Birthday you guys!!

Important post--about suing

I just want all you guys to know that you are the blogies of the future. What are blogies, you might ask, well to the curious blogies out there, blogies is the new word for all of the people who read my blog. Now, years from now when some famous movie is called, "blogies", and people say "who came up with that word? It was sooooooo clever of them to invent that", just remember...it was me. You need to remember this, because if this happens, I'm going to take them to court, and I will need witnesses, a blogie, at hand, with computers, I mind you, to show this man or woman that I came up with this term for blogies. We will go to this very sight, and the Judge will reveal her true identity: a fire alarm salsewoman, and we will laugh in their movie-making faces, and we will dance around and have a merry time. (Unless I come up with the movie, in that case none of this happens.)
Ah well, so long for now, but not for long. I will write again today, (and I mean it this time.)

Ah well

Unfortunatley Lice

Today the font is Arial and the color of the font is a dark, horrible red that if the sky was this color, the color of blood, people would run for their merciless lives, just to escape the utter bitterness life has thrown at them in form as the environment. (You know I couldn't just get away with saying "a nice red," even if I had to be emo/goth for a second.)

Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. Lice. What's that? You can't read that small? Well for your information, it says lice. At this point I would very much appreciate it if you would shiver, or squirm, or something to signify that these creepy critters that we want them gone? Please? By now you can guess who got them first. Me. Why are they so attracted to me? My hair isn't that nice.

I've had them once before. This time isn't as bad as the last. I'm not going to go into lousy details with anyone, unless you beg and plead for me to. Gotta go kick my brother off of his video game, so I can watch TV. Ok, look. I'm sorry, but this is the end to this story. I'll write more later today. I have another story for you. Oh, thanks for asking. My lice is a whole lot better. We want to kill it before we go to Europe and Africa, and my mom did serious overkill on my hair. Okay, bibi now. (Bye-Bye version for im. No story about bibi like stummy today.)

Greetings from me

I know you're expecting a big story about how my mom's being a poop (hence the title), but I really think that right now she's not being that poopish, poopesque, if you will. Right now I'm completely freaking out because I'm going to Paris, France in two weeks to break up the trip going to Ethiopia to adopt a little baby girl. I have so much to do, but instead of doing those things, I've decided to blog instead. God, I'm hungry. I'm smelling those waffles my dad is making, (I couldn't decide. my dad is making or my dad are making. They both sounded wrong at first, but now they both sound better, I guess), even though it's Father's Day. I know, I'm horrible. I should be helping my dad make those waffles, but again, I'm not. I'm just blogging away.

Oh, by the way. The baby on the left, yeah that's my sister. She 's adopted from Ethiopia, (she's not home with us yet, we're getting her in a little more than two weeks), and she's almost seven months old by now. In the picture of her there, she's four months old, though.
I'd better get going. My conscience is coming through my stummy, (my special word for stomach and tummy. One time one of my teachers gave me a test, and I was supposed to tell something about the stomach, but I said stummy instead. We had a hole debate about it in class), and I'd better go eat waffles with my family, and wish my dad a happy Father's Day.

Talk to you later guys!