Sunday Stalker.

Sunday.
The day you go to church. Or at least, supposed to...
The day you end up doing your homework.
The last day of the week, or the first day of the week.
Is usually ruined by the thought of Monday.
The day to watch football.
No not the dessert. Silly.
The day that Sam gets to wear high heels.

Can I say that I OWN at high heels. I can walk the walk. Let me tell ya.
I'm 5' 9.5". Yes I wear 5" heels. No I don't care that you hate when I wear heels. I love it.
Don't complain about how I'm taller than you. No duh I am. I love wearing them. And Sunday is truly the only day that I can.

This would be me in heels. 

You can't see the heels. But I am in them.

Oh and my family and I have this thing where when ever we see a camera we have our thumbs pop out. I wrote poop instead of pop. No, thumbs don't poop out Sam! Gosh.

Now this is really what it feels like.

I could do anything in heels!

Run, jump, hurdle. I've got it covered! 

Yes. Those are little heels for me. 

I just love them so darn much. 

In fact, they are going on my Christmas list. I'm going to post it soon enough. Don't fret.

I want some sparkly ones.

Ones that blind you with their sparkles. Yup. Those ones.

Sometimes they hurt your feet. 

But sometimes friends hurt your feelings. You learn to forgive. 

My feet have actually become immune to pain resulting from high heels.

Rap I just came up with:

You know those heels?

The ones so high.

Ya they so hot.

They so fly.

BAM.

I wish I could rap.  Actually. I can rap two songs. And if Taylor Swift had some rap songs, I could probably rap those ones too.

So in Honors English we had to write a speech. She gave us the opportunity to talk about WHATEVER we wanted. Complete freedom in my hands? Booyah. 

Side note:

Last year we had to write a speech. I wrote mine about verbal abuse, and can I just say it rocked?! I was docked a point because of how I was dressed. My teacher was super conservative and I guess a lepord print tight pencil skirt did not please her... But other than that. It was awesome!

So I was tempted to just use mine from last year. Kind of a heavy topic and super personal for me. But heck, it was a great speech. So being a good student and all I didn't do what my evil side wanted to do. I ended up writing a whole speech on Facebook stalking. 

On Friday during class, some kids gave their speeches. 

Wow. 

99 percent of them were serious. Ask me if I am nervous to be the black sheep with the non-serious speech. Yes, well kinda not really. I guess I was expecting it. 

Some girl talked about love.

Another about cancer.

Then comes Sam.

"Hi. Um. My speech is about Facebook Stalking."

Sheesh.

I have to present it to the class on Tuesday. 

What a joke.

You may be wondering why randomly I jump from high heels to Facebook stalking. 

Because. I think I have one.

I'm not threatened. Just concerned for my life. Wait. Say what?

Within a week, if I don't post again you will know what happened to me.

Call the cops. Tell them I've been kidnapped by a Facebook stalker. 

And tell everyone that my life has been ruined by Facebook.

Then sue Facebook.

Then Facebook will try to find me so they aren't sued for so much mula.

Then when they find me. 

I'll post again. Don't worry.

I'm going to put alarms around my house.

And I'll wear heels so I can kick them and puncture their calves. Gross...

If I don't return, avenge my death!

-Girl on the go.

Typing for the heck of it.

I have a fish.

It's orangeish blueish.

Well technically Lexi, Maegan, and I have a fish. It is a birthday present gone bad, and nobody likes it. So I will be selling this fish, maybe I'll earn a cent or two. But my guess is nobody will want a used fish. So slowly, the classic ol' toilet bowl flush seems like a good dance for the fish to dance. But. Probably not.

So I'm looking at this fish, and I feel bad for it. I haven't cleaned the fishes' bowl in, forever. I can't really see through it, and that is somewhat really gross. I feel as if I should clean it, but my laziness is kicking in and telling me not to. So I won't. Poor fish.

Oh ya. It has a name.

Bathsheba.

Yesterd...

Actually, let's talk about Saturday first.

Saturday was the epitome of Summer. Jonathan, Lexi, John (although he ditched us for some foxy lady that I have no idea who she is), and I went to the Highland Fling later in the evening. So we slowly became bored, and had nothing to do.

So we went to Pizza Pie and bought an Oreo pizza to eat while sitting on our little rumps and watch the fireworks. After, we went to my house and as usual, played on my trampoline. Lexi left and then Jonathan and I called this stalker girl 21 times. It was too good.

Alright. Sunday was terrible. First off, I was late for church and missed the sacrament. Do you want to know why I was late? I broke my freakin' heel. I thought that only happens in the movies! Well, surprise! It doesn't. After spending about a good ten minutes looking for black shoes I found some in my closet. Go figure. Sunday school. Sunday school. Sunday school. Let's just say it went awful, and right after I went home crying.

I do not think it is right to judge another person's testimony. At all. Please don't tell me that I am not led by the Holy Ghost when I bear my testimony just because I am a logical person. You have no idea what my relationship with my Heavenly Father is like, and that is just plain disgusting to judge it. I love my Heavenly Father. Big whoop, I'm a logical person. That doesn't affect my spirituality at all. So please don't say it is.

Toodles.

-Jay.