Yard Mall Sale Expo

Yesterday, we went to the famous "yard sale" at the church near the mall that held the school expo. This is what we purchased:

-White blanket for my sister's bed with a strategically placed sticker to hide stains; my mom's getting them out, though.
-White summer comforter for me!!!
-Three white 'kid' napkins.
-White tablecloth.
-China-floral-Roman numerals clock.
-Pack of doilies (25 cents!)
-Jeweled silver picture frame (for my sister).
-Silver candle holder in a leaf pattern with white glass in the leaves.

My aunt got:

-Four silver candlesticks.
-A "dust ruffle".
-Pretty floral napkins.
-Four empty "gold" picture frames.
-Antique-looking oblong frame.


All before ten o'clock! We went to the wimpy farmer's marker there. I like it as much as--other people, but the one in my town is SO MUCH BETTER.

I'll dwell on that later.

Short and sweet; like my brownies and how long they last(ed)

Hair status: Renaissance Faire-y. Get it?

My little brother still pertains to his opinion that I need a favorite dinosaur. Update soon.

We have a new reading corner and I am relaxing whilst reading in my bean-bag-chair.

I allegedly need new jeans.

I just bought the last of my summer bread. Sigh.

Perry likes to sleep on the stairs. This concerns me.

And, at last, I have a recipe I wanted to share with you.

Makes one 14-ounce smoothie

1/2 cup frozen organic blueberries
1/2 cup frozen organic strawberries
1/2 cup chilled green tea, unsweetened
3/4 cup plain low-fat organic yogurt
2 tablespoons ground flaxseed
Turbinado sugar or other natural sweetener to taste

Combine all ingredients in an electric blender and blend on medium speed until smooth, about 20 seconds. Garnish with fresh berries and serve. Note: For a nondairy alternative, you can substitute cultured soy for the yogurt.

Thank you, Martha Stewart!

And with that, I conclude.

My Corrupt Brownies and Me

RememberyesterdaywhenIhallucinated?Yes?Yes?WelltodayIdecidedtomakebrownies!
Evidentlytheymakemeveryhyper.HAHAHHAHAHAHA!Iseriouslyjustdidlaughoutloudrandomlythere.
:):):)

*deep deep breath*

I made Ghirardelli Double Chocolate brownies because as much as I like making stuff without mixes, Ghirardelli simply is THE BEST chocolate ever, and hello, yummy brownies with some work already done for you=extra-ly scrumptious.

First, I grease the pan. I now know to hold it at least six inches away from the pan unless you want to be surrounded by oil clouds. Very gross. Then I get the egg, water and canola oil. Because I am psychotic, I read the back and discovered. . . THERE IS A SERVING SUGGESTION FOR CANOLA OIL! It is ONE TABLESPOON. I am really hoping this is for people who make up recipes. Really, really hoping.

The brownies are yummalicious, so I had a rather large one whilst I mused upon my eventual taking over of the world before I graduate from my current school. Brownies are very good listeners.

Also, yesterday I discovered this blog which is about this young lady who is renouncing traditional shopping for a year and instead has given herself a budget of a dollar a day for a year to buy really ugly dresses and shirts and the like and sew them into something wearable and stylish. She also has a cooking club of which I am extraordinarily jealous. Here is a recipe she posted for a cake in a mug. I plan on making it this autumn or winter.

Queen of the World signing out.

Athletic Apparel (rhymes with "Christmas carol")

As you all know, I have believed myself to be unathletic. However, I am actually quite good once I get over my fear of the ball, as it turns out. My only REAL problem is that I am not competitive. Not such a big loss, actually, until I realize I'm supposed to CARE if I get knocked out because someone threw a ball in my face. My usual attitude is muted unenthusiasm.

{Okay, I must stray from the topic at hand. Since my computer believes that "unenthusiasm" isn't a word, which it probably isn't. Neither is "unathletic," evidently. So I Googled it and clicked "etymology," which is how the word came to be. (Sparrow grass to asparagus, remember?) And the page didn't explain unenthusiasm, just enthusiasm. Then I noticed a little fact at the top (are these websites trying to suck up to me?) that said: "Do you know what 404 means when your computer says "Error 404: Server not found"? Click here to find out!" or something along that line. It might be "404 not found." Anyway, I clicked "here" and discovered that 404 is slang for. . . wait for it. . . wait for it. . . a stupid or ineffectual person! The question is, who is the 404? The computer? Me/you? The person who set up the server? So many questions.}

However, I now own two pairs of PE shorts, fancy running shoes (which I'm supposed to have anyway; I have weak ankles and no arches), athletic socks, AND I know how to put my hair in a ponytail! Kinda sorta. . . . So I can at least LOOK like I love sports. It's weird, but t-shirts make you want to exercise. Maybe that's just me. And I might be hallucinating, like this morning when I thought I smelled brownies cooking. Sigh.

(I put up a poll! Please vote. . . you can check up to two boxes.)

Quelle surprise! C'est mode!

IT'S THE ONE-MONTH ANNIVERSARY OF THIS BLOG!!!

If no one comments I'm going to start writing my blog posts in French. Seriously. I don't mind.

I also REALLY want your feedback on the new history order.

So, comment, commenter, en anglais ou en francais!

Told ya I didn't mind. I guess, though, perhaps you all aren't commenting people, although my past posts beg to differ. I must assume, then, that ALL of you have decided to go on vacation without a computer. I am happy as long as you are following, but I know that you are reading it when I see your comments, yes? And don't forget, INVITE AND FOLLOW!

Like divide and conquer, kinda, the same tone, but whatevs.

What I had intended to write about today was fashion, so the French fits in nicely. The thing is, I don't understand it. I'd love to say I do, but I don't. Somewhere in the world, some fancy-smancy "genius" designer (who is probably actually a maniac with an inheritance to whom, as a toddler, some stranger said "My, what a clever imagination. You could be a fashion designer," and then laughed, ruffled his hair, and departed from the front of a very "in" store.) is parading innocent people around in hideous shoes, Lady GaGa hairstyles, and outfits that may very well be old blankets like the one he was sucking on in front of that store that fateful day (see above) and then some fashion critic (who probably only became one because his sister said to him, after he criticized her outfit, "Well perhaps you should be a fashion critic, then, and make money while being mean." and walked away in a huff.) says to the people sitting around him, "This is fashion."

Now we go to Suburbia, where people wear tight shirts, jeans, and the skirts with the band and labeled clothes. It does not resemble Mr. Inheritance's line one bit. So what is he doing? I don't know. Do people buy his clothes? I should hope not. Where does he get his income? We probably don't want to know,

And why are tight shirts "in?" The person buys it from the store because they like it/it is "fashionable, the store buys it from the designers for the same reason. . . and why do the designers make it? Does that mean that, if I was a designer, I could make a whole line of sheep-printed skirts? And if the aforementioned critic liked them, everyone would wear them?

I need to go eat breakfast.

This post contains 4% of your daily hodgepodge!

On Saturday we rode a truck to the library and made lovely rubber marks on the road. I got more murder mysteries! On Sunday, I finished all the murder mysteries and went to church AND my cousin's second birthday part, where he devoured the face of a 3-D bear cake.

As it turns out, my favorite piece of classical music is Franz Schubert's Symphony No. 6 in C, D. 589.

Also, my earphones have broken. Snickerdoodle. You will notice my weird capitalization in the title. I don't know why I capitalize my titles oddly. And, I posted a cloud of the labels, so you can read every post about Daisy if you want to.