Sisters.

My stomach is the size of Santa's.

So. Yesterday was my little sister's birthday. She's now 13 and it's bizarre.


How bizarre.
How bizarre, how bizarre


Ooh baby
(Ooh baby)
It's making me crazy
(It's making me crazy)

Every time I look around
(Look around)
Every time I look around
(Every time I look around)
Every time I look around, it's in my face
It's in my face

Please tell me somebody else remembers this song from the 90's. I loved it when I was two-ish.

I love her too much.
She wrote the phrase above ^^^ while my laptop was on my bed and I was off in dream land.
Silly Gracie. I do love you though. No worries.

She's cute. It runs in the family.

Since it was her birthday there was a lot of food, a lot of un-healthy food. And I ate all of it. That was yesterday. And I am still feeling the effects of it. 

• I'm stuffed, resulting in me looking like Santa.
• Not only do I look like Santa, I weigh as much as Santa.
• I'm really tired, and drowsy.
• I'm REALLY tired. 
• I think I have a billion and two sicknesses/diseases. I woke up thinking I had a cold and during lunch I thought I had a fever. Seriously? I'm crazy. 
• Hallucinations have been a regular thing today. Actually, hallucinations isn't the right word. More like stupid moments...  I was sitting there. And I thought: "What is squeezing my foot?" I looked down and realized I was wearing a sock. No comment.
• I'm seeing fortune cookies everywhere I turn.

One more day.

Till what?

Till the Christmas break!!!!

I cannot contain my excitement. I'm so sick of school. And two weeks away from it sounds pretty darn amazing. I literally cannot spend one more day with my teachers without having the urge of punching them in the face. All they do is give out useless homework that ruin my life. I may be acting a little dramatic..

Oh ya! Remember my Facebook stalking speech?  100% baby. It was great. 

Sorry this is such a short post. But I have a headache and the ruuuuns. (Can anybody name the movie?!)

I don't really have the runs. That's gross. And I sure in heck wouldn't tell you about it. But really, I just have a headache, not the runs. I'm so sorry that I'm a little icky. But really, no runs.

In a while crocodile. 

-Older sister.

Oldest.

I am the oldest of my siblings.

Sometimes. I love it.

Sometimes. I hate it.

But most of the time, I love it.

There are benefits to being the eldest:

Obviously, you are the wisest.

The most responsible.

Smartest.

Best looking.

You are are over all the best child in the family. And your parents wish that all the other kids could be just like you. The other kids despise you, yet respect you at the same time.

I wish.

Isn't that what the movies portray?

Yes. Yes it is young one.

Let me tell you. I am far from this. I am not so wise. I sometimes do stupid teenage things that only stupid teenagers do. So thus, I am not always the most responsible kid ever. I get good grades, but I could get better. I know I am the best looking in my family so I'm not going to argue that one... (Actually all my siblings are gorgeous and I'm kind of jealous like all the time.) My parents do love me, don't get me wrong. But sometimes I get a look in their eye that says: "Samantha Jean, I want to strangle you right about now."

Don't worry. They would never actually do it.

I hope.

My family is great.

The 'Rents

Rich and Diana are there names.

My Dad is one of the smartest guys I know.

And I know a lot of smart guys.

He may say that he isn't THAT smart, but listen to me. I'm the one with the blog.

He probably will hate me saying this but.

He was the valedictorian and the student body president at his high school.

Now that right there is an overachiever.

He works as a computer nerd for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints .

My mom is super artistic.

One time I counted all the colors that are painted on the walls of our house.

There are 14.

We have one wall that is strictly paintings and art and such.

All of this is my moms doing.

She is an artist! She won't admit it, but she is.

She graduated with a bachelors in Graphic art.

That right there is pretty darn cool.

Together they are the old ones that govern our house.

I should probably give them more respect. Actually, I know I should.

But I can't be perfect, or can I...?

They are "supa chill" as my friends would call it. But they are strict when they need to be.

THEY ARE PERFECT*

And I love them.

Me

You know me.

Pshh. You were actually expecting me to write more about myself?

Silly reader.

I'm not that conceited.

Puberty girl

You may think this is an inappropriate name.

I'll explain.

This is Grace Louise.

Or Gracie.

She is 12. Everyday until she was born I prayed for a little sister.

And boy did I get one.

She is awesome. And one of the prettiest girls I know.

Her eyes are far apart, you know, model like.

Her eyelashes reach from here to the stars.

And she has a hot skinny body.

Since she is 12, she is hitting this awkward and unwelcome conversation topic called... puberty.

We have all been through it! Get over it.

I now realize why my parents gave me the "I want to strangle you" death glare while I was hitting puberty.

Poo

Georgia Audrey.

This is how she gained the name of Poo.

Georgia.

George.

Georgie.

Georgie Pordgie.

Pordgie Poo.

Poo.

I feel bad for the girl. I mean really, who wants their name to be Poo?

She is the girl of the family.

She loves glitter, dresses, and tea.

(Not tea, but I just thought that went along with the whole dress thing.)

She's 8. And great!

(That rhymed.)

Her personality is very loud. Just like every other 8 year old.

Bubba

Max.

He just goes by Bubba.

Think about it.

When he is in high school and playing football you can hear it.

"OHH number 23 takes a hard hit from Bubba!"

Bubba is just awesome.

He loves running around and destroying everything in his path.

He is four, although he resembles a six year old.

One of the biggest kids I know.

He adores men things. Even though sometimes you can catch him playing with barbies.

Well.

There ya go. That's my family.

Pray for me.

But really, Pray for my parents.

-The best child.

*They are perfect in my eyes. I just hope they read this and give me twenty bucks.

Something that makes you pee your pants.

Honestly. This is one of the scariest things that I have ever done. It's probably in my top two. And it would be number two. My number one happened about two months ago. But that is not something I want to be talking about right now.

Anyways.

I can't believe I did this.

It was even scarier than the time I was flashed by my grandma. Ew.

I had my heart set on never doing this.

But being a changed person, and not being a weenie and all, I said okay.

So I went to Lagoon with my family and my dear friend Quinci.

We went on all the roller coasters. My favorite? Wicked. In the first two seconds you are going straight up, and straight down. If you keep your arms up the entire time, they have a small chance of being ripped off from the pure force of awesomeness. (No, but really, it starts to hurt...)

Quinci kept on eye-balling the skycoaster, hinting that we should go on it.

I ignored her and her outrageous ideas.

Until.

I didn't.

So we bought the ticket. And I felt like I was going throw up.

We put on our little suit things.

Went out into the field.

They hooked up us.

And then the wire pulled us up.

So

Slllloooowwwwwlllllyyy.

After about twenty feet I was done.

I was ready to pull the rope.

I wanted to fall to my death already.

But no.

It went up about ten times twenty. aka. 200.

When we were going up, I was watching a tire directly below us. I couldn't move my eyes because each time I looked around I felt as if I was going to suffocate and have my head collapse. Who knows why.

At the top a lady says: FLYERS! 3-2-1 FLY. Then you are supposed to pull the strap. Quinci was supposed to pull it. SHE WAITED A SECOND! ugh. A second hanging at 200 feet feels longer than a chemistry class period.

As soon as she pulled it we plummeted head first towards that darn tire that I was staring at! I don't remember screaming at that part... Just holding on to Quinci, and dying. That's about it. As soon as the wire caught us, it was a blast.

Best experience ever.

On a side note, here are some things I learned this week:

1. Dr. Pepper Ten is a choice drink from heaven.

2. Scary movies = nightmare. Scary movies + cute boy = dream come true.

3. My room is messier than a head full of dreadlocks.

4. Beyonce is my girl. So is Taylor Swift.

5. Seminary teachers have the best stories.

6. Other people realize I am the epitome of an appalling singer.

7. Darla is the best car. Ever.

8. Every girl goes through a "bad boy" phase. Boo.

I'm waving goodbye-

Salmon.

I love dumb people.

Yesterday. Well, right now it is 1:05 am, so technically you would say two days ago. I was in my first accident. And it shook me up, a lot.

Not.

I rear ended a lady's car, going about ONE MPH. I wasn't even pressing on the gas. What does she do? That's right. Calls the cops. Why? Good question. She didn't even go and look at the damage before she called them. She just decided that she was too important and her car was injured in someway or another that she shouldn't even bother to get out of the car. I do have to say that her car was hurt, a plastic plug for the hitch was cracked. That was it.

I received a ticket.

I hate that lady.

Dummy.

So. My parents weren't mad at all. And I was so sad that they didn't ground me and take away my car. Psh. I bet that is what that mean dumb lady wanted, loser.

My dad had a work party, that he forced the whole family to go to. The entire time I met overweight, balding, and aging men. It was a blast.

Later in the night, Jonathan, Nathan, Alexa, Lexi, Jonah, and myself decided that a scary movie would be exciting. But boy was I wrong. I guess, I somewhat forgot how much I hate scary movies, and that I am a huge pansy.....

Let's just say, I left, and drug Jonah along with me.

Thanks Jonah.

Today, or yesterday if you are referring to before midnight, I went to the art festival in Park City with Jonah and his good ol' family. To sum it up, it was a blast, I love his family, and I got a super cool ring from Jonah.

A horse ring.

Made out of a beer bottle.

That's right.

God be with you til we meet again.

-Bear.