I wanna be a billionaire...

I always thought rich people who bought a lot of clothes were rather ridiculous. But as I've matured, and possibly become a bit more metrosexual, I've come to realize the impact clothes and accessories can make.

I have a love affair with high top shoes. I don't know why, but I just think they look so snazzy. It's a shame, this brand (SUPRA Skytop) runs close to $100. I would rock those every chance I got. I got lucky and was able to snag some of Nike's 6.0 high tops for a mere $20. Definitely my favorite pair nowadays.

I also enjoy a good watch or 'wrist clock' as they are sometimes known as. Nixon makes some doozies I can't help but oogle at when I walk into Zumiez.

The big face and simple design makes me wish this kind didn't cost $450.
Likewise, a good pair of sunglasses can run over $100 dollars. Sadly the quality of the picture stinks. But these Ray Bans look soooo good.

And finally, jackets. In the Bay Area, and certainly Rexburg, it's rarely too hot (especially in the evenings) to wear a light jacket. I stumbled upon this beauty at the mall today, marked down to $6.

 

While I wait for some movie agent to see how funny and good looking I am, I suppose I'll have to settle for finding sweet deals and buying knock offs.

What is Love?

Is the title too cliched? Whatever, it works. I'll warn my sisters right now-it's gonna get cheesy, so you can't do any /gag/ posts!


I have been a rather timid boy with respect to girls. I'm a mad flirt when it comes to simply talking to them, but in my history of 'taking it to the next level'... I was not so talented. Until a certain girl came around in my life. One named Katie Ronan. Last semester I felt so strongly about this girl, I even wrote a paper about how we became 'official'. I got  97% on the paper, but I'll let you be the judge.

Affinity: Genesis

Heart racing, legs quivering, facing one of the most daunting tasks I had ever come across. Anxiety and apprehension had never been felt with this magnitude before. Trying to remember any tips my sister of all people gave me, I was about to that which I had no skill in whatsoever. The worst part was, that if I missed, unbearable embarrassment would ensue.

            For the first half of my Junior year in high school, nothing was going as I thought it would. I was a new student, and if I had learned anything from movies, it was that my peers would be engrossed with tantalizing stories of my home town and girls would be fawning over my enigmatic history. Sadly, my life was rather mundane and this Hollywood-borne mentality quickly vanished.

            Friends were hard to come by, but by the time swim season rolled around in the Spring, I was able to more fully integrate myself into the social scene. There was one girl in particular, Katie, I started showing an interest in. She had eyes like sapphires and hair like mahogany. Yet the most astonishing thing of all was miraculously enough, the feeling seemed to be mutual. Conversations were frequent whether in the pool or via the wonders of Facebook chat. Flirtatious tendencies were all too common, and I was reveling in it.

            Junior Prom was just weeks away. I had never been to a high school dance before because provocative dancing was more present than stink on a pig. However, I thought I’d gutsy up and ask this modest young woman to Prom. Amazingly enough, she obliged.

            The weeks came and went. Prom came, and that too disappointingly went. The week following Prom I had the courage to ask the same girl on a formal date. Again, to my surprise, she agreed to go with me. Could it have been this girl actually liked me back?

Two dates later I was sure there was mutual attraction. I was ready to make final, only to realize that I was a coward and had no experience with girls beyond flirting. Reluctantly, I turned to my sister who was home at the time. She had had a few boyfriends in her past, and surely she would know how I should go about this. We talked for a while, and every time I thought of something that could go wrong, I’d sprint down the hall, bust open the door and ask, “But what if this happens?!” She’d assure me I was crazy and that it wouldn’t happen. I still had my underlying doubts.

Later that day I made plans to accompany this fine young woman for an evening of perusing the town. Unfortunately, the best laid plans of adolescent men are often ruined by unforeseen dinner plans. It was Saturday evening and this girl was going with her family to eat dinner with their neighbors! Being unable to see her on Sunday and conflicting schedules during the week, this would mean another week of anxiety and coming up with a whole new agenda of things that could go wrong. Surely this could not be. Surely I had stumbled into a bad dream. Alas, this was reality.

Being the staunch young boy in love that I was, I managed to get invited to dessert with the families. Awkwardness ensued as I was introduced by her mom as ‘Katie’s little friend’. Being belittled in such a manner only made me more determined to make this final in hopes that one day, I could be introduced as something more. Hours passed as we all socialized about whatever civilized adults talk about. I was becoming uneasy as curfew drew closer and I had yet to have a moment alone with Katie. Just 10 minutes before I was supposed to be home, the very same woman who disparaged me before had announced that they must be getting home as it was in fact getting late. This meant that I too must be going home. Few times had my morale been so low.

But then, as if she could sense my despair and knew, and approved of my plans, Katie’s mother invited me to stop by for a little while longer. I could have sworn I heard trumpeters sounding off this glorious moment. However, joy quickly dissolved into tribulation once more as it was made known unto me that curfew was now only minutes away. I called home in great hopes my own mother would be so kind as to let me stay out just a tad longer. My teeth clenched and my muscles locked up as she contemplated my request. She granted me another 30 minutes to my curfew. It seemed the heavens were smiling down upon my quest for a kiss.

            We arrived back at Katie’s humble abode and we sat down and began to watch TV while her parents were cleaning up the kitchen. Few programs appealed to us, so we settled with the U.S. Olympic swimming time trials. A few more minutes passed, and I realized what I was about to do. My heart began racing as I frantically scoured my brain on how I was supposed to go about this. Since I had my arm around her, she could feel my heart beating much quicker. To my great dismay, she inquired as to why my heart was in this increased state of activity. I calmly pawned it off as my great fervor for swimming.

             My 30 minutes were nearly up. I told her that I must be getting home and she in turn offered to walk me to my car. We walked outside, every second seeming like an eternity. The 20 yards to my car felt like a mile with all the thoughts going through my head. We arrived at the driver’s side of my car and faced each other. I took her hand and expressed how great the previous few weeks had been and she concurred. After laughing about a certain incident in the past, the dreaded awkward silence hit me like a semi. Again, time slowed to a standstill. I thought to myself the clichéd phrase: Now or never. I closed my eyes and leaned in as awkwardly as one could and finally, after 16 years of waiting, I was kissing a girl.

            I pulled back, eyes now wide as could be, smiling my little boy grin, astonished she was smiling too. We bid our fond farewells, I got into my car and closed the door and started to pull away. Emotion took hold of me as I shouted ‘Woohoo!’ (I later found out she had heard that). I put on the happiest song I had on my iPod, drove home shouting the lyrics, and safely arrived home. I walked up the stairs in my quiet house, wondering how my family could be sleeping on such a joyous night as tonight. After an hour of laying on my bed with the smile the size of Rhode Island, I managed to fall asleep. Surely, this was the start of something great.

And sure enough, it was. We've been dating now for over a year and a half, and there's no one I'd of rather spent that time with. I often ask her why she loves me as my sisters will attest to the fact that I'm a huge dork, a goofball. She says she loves me in part for that exact reason... I'm still have my underlying doubts.

Alpaca Convention!

We respect ourselves, each other, and the others' friends and family. We don't expect the other to devote all their time towards... them? (Waaaayyy too many pronouns for one sentence) I often tell my parents that we aren't your typical teenage couple, though I'm sure this lovey dovey post doesn't help that argument. Because when I think of a stereotypical teenage couple, I think of kids who are so blinded by love, all other judgments are impaired. Katie and I are mature enough to talk about any concerns we have and we both know that we have other friends besides each other and we should spread out our time evenly.

I think the biggest reason Katie is my best friend, is she's the biggest part of me getting out of my minor depression stage. When I first moved to Pleasanton, (like I noted in my essay) I thought friends were going to flock to me. When that didn't happen, I got pretty bummed out. But after meeting her, having her to talk to pretty much whenever I want, my spirits were lifted. She's like my psychiatrist. I can talk to her about anything, and I like to think I serve a similar role in her life. I hate to sound so cliche, but I don't know what I'd do without my best friend. She's really great and I hope you've had the chance to meet her. If not, we'll have to make arrangements.

I wish you all a very happy Valentine's day, even if you don't have someone yourself to share it with. Even if it is just a stupid Hallmark Holiday, it's another reminder to tell those you care about... how much you care about them.

I love you Katie!

My Family

I talked about it in an earlier post about how much I love my family. So to elaborate on it, I feel it appropriate to write a little something for those I love the most. This will be primarily family and even some of my good friends.

No I'm not dying, nor do I expect any of those mentioned to die any time in the foreseeable. I've never been that great with earthly gifts (if I even remember to get one) but I do see myself as one who is good with words.

First of all: My great father. I can expect him to make a witty comment either criticizing some spelling or grammatical error I've made while simultaneous thanking me for the nice post. Never too sappy, but also not too cutting. Always right... And humorous. He is in fact an awesome dad. My fondest of memories include watching the Lion King countless times, riding in a seat on the back of his bike going around Lake Elizabeth, going to the train tracks and waiting to see a train go by, and so much more. He provided me with everything I needed and most of the things I wanted. He used good discretion as looking back, I wanted a lot of retarded stuff. He is also always witty and original in his humor. People have told him that he must get his humor from me. They are sadly mistaken and honestly quite stupid as it's obvious I get my humor from him. 'The tail doesn't wag the dog' as he would say.

My loving mother. People always say that a man will marry someone like his mom. Not to be all sappy or anything, but if I marry someone like my mom, I'm set for life. This woman has taken care of not only my dad (an obstacle in itself) but managed to raise six awesome kids as well. That means giving birth, feeding, dressing, helping with homework, taking them to appointments, dealing with our fallacies and still loving us after all of that crap. I've told her before that I feel like the mom of my apartment since hardly anyone cleans up after themselves and I seem to have taken on her role in my apartment. Scary right? Anyway, my mom has done more than I ever could, can, will, and I'll never be able to give adequate thanks.

My second mother, a.k.a. my sister Sarah. She was almost 16 when I was born so I don't have that many memories of her since she left for college when I was 3 or so. The funniest story though was one I don't remember but she told me about. My mom, Sarah and I went to the mall when I was a newborn and I was in a stroller. While in the mall, my mom asked Sarah to stay with me while she ran into a store really quick. During that time people apparently gave her nasty looks, thinking she was a teenage mom.
In later years, I remember sleeping over at her house with her husband Joel (also a really cool guy, but this is a family post, sorry) and their two cats. Unfortunately I realized the next morning that I was allergic to cats as my eyes were itchy and my nose was quite runny. One last story was just before Sarah got married. She and my mom were cutting invitations or something on one of those big paper cutters where you bring  down the blade perpendicular to the board (sorry I don't know the proper vernacular). During one of her swings of the blade, she cut the edge of her finger. In attempts to cheer her up, I went upstairs, took off all my clothes (except my whitey tighteys... I was like 6 or so) and went back downstairs running around flailing my arms. It worked. Sarah's been like my mom in the disciplinary department, and a sister in the 'always making fun of me' department.

My sister Allison. She also left for college before I reached my 'remember things' years. But more memorably, she lived with my parents and I with her husband and baby girl. That was fun in itself as I could play video games with her husband Dave and play silly little games with her daughter. Since Becca had already left for college, it was like I had siblings again and prolonged the time till I had to be alone with just my parents. The most pronounced memory is when her daughter was taking a nap and everyone else was out of the house. We were chatting in the kitchen when we heard a buzzing by the windows and realized it was a bee. We freaked out cause we're both sissies and tried a whole number of things to get it out. Eventually we plugged in the hose vacuum (the ones that go into the wall) and hesitantly made out way over to it with the hose and finally destroyed it. High fives were in order as we slayed that mighty beast.

My brother Jeff. When I was a baby, apparently Jeff played with me a lot. In my middle years (the ones I actually remember), not so much. But in my later teen years, we bonded much over excited yells at Call of Duty as we would trade off turns playing. He's now engaged to Jess, a girl who gets as excited as he at video games and is arguably as good as any of us at video games (except Call of Duty of course). She's pretty awesome as well, but again, this is a direct family only post. My fondest of memories of Jeff was when he was taking me to some summer activity. We went outside and were about to get in his Camero (or as I pronounced it Cuh meh woah) when he asked 'Wanna take the top off?' His Camero had a T-Top and when those bad boys were off... Dang did I feel cool riding in his car. Sure enough, we took em off and we drove to whatever activity I had in style.

My sister Laura. Laura likes hugs... A lot. Maybe my parents didn't love her enough as a child, but pretty much whenever I'm with her, she'll hold her elbows by her body, forearms outstretched, wiggling her fingers. This implies a hug is wanted. Most of the time I give her one, because hugs are in fact nice. But I do it grudgingly... We'll often share phone calls where I say silly/stupid things and she laughs at how stupid I am. Our conversations are riddled with 'Sooooo... What's up?' and 'Ummmm yeaahhh' You could call it awkward. I call it sisterly bonding.

My shveester Becca. I say schveester because it is she (I'm quite confident of this) that I get my crazies from. (She's to blame Katie!) Crazies include our 'Louie Voice' and dancing around making as much noise as possible and just plain being cooky. Though not as hug dependent as Laura, she still enjoys a good embrace. The funniest memory of her I have is when our mom asked us to do the dishes. Stupidly, my mom stuck around in the kitchen and fell victim to what happened next. Our crazies started to build up and we started doing some type of African chant. I was beating on recently cleaned pots and pans while she danced around my mom making odd noises. My mom, most likely from being tired, thought this was hilarious to the point where she started crying she was laughing so hard. I must also give props to Becca for being my... Wingman? by giving me tips and ideas on how I should go about getting my first kiss. For those of you who don't know, all went well and my sincerest gratitude goes to Becca.

All in all, my family is just about the coolest out there. It seems like after my friends (as well as my sisters' friends) meet my family, they want to be an Ostler too. A tight, sarcastic bond is what keeps this family together, and I couldn't love it any more.

Lack of Vitamin D

For the first time since I got back here in Rexburg, it was really sunny. There had been days where it was spots on blue sky, but never really that sunny. Usually it was a mix of overcast and fog (I didn't know you could even get fog if you were this far inland and away from a large body of water) which would make it bright, but it was all gray and just kind of pissed me off.

Today however, as my apartment left for church this morning. It was sunny. 80% or more of the sky was blue and I finally didn't feel depressed to be back in Rexburg. This feeling was short lived as it is now again more cloudy than not, and weather.com has informed me that we'll be getting around 6 inches of snow in the coming days.

It was fun while it lasted I suppose.

Yesterday though, I went ice skating with some good friends from Fremont. I've only ice skated maybe 3 times prior to that, only once being in my adolescent years. I'm about as good as any other amateur, but I'm determined to be able to hold my own by semester's end.

All in all, the weather continues to make me hate my parents since they can wear t-shirts outside and ride their bikes. In just over 2 months, I'll be joining them. I cannot wait.

Life Goes On

I guess you could call my hiatus from posting melodramatic. While initially that was the case, it wasn't meant to last for a month and a half. I simply didn't feel like sitting down and writing about my daily happenings. But now, as I procrastinate doing my Mandarin homework (Yes I'll get to that later) I feel it appropriate to write a bit.

I went home for Thanksgiving, and I spent that with friends as none of my family went home then. We had Thanksgiving dinner with two other long time family friends from Fremont. Ultimately it was a good week, but going back was so hard-knowing I'd only have to be there for 3 weeks made those 3 weeks seem to last forever. My roommates and I all agreed: We hated life that Sunday we all got back. Thankfully though, time cooperated and managed to go by in a... timely manner. I finished up the semester with a 3.5 GPA, thus matching the highest GPA I've ever gotten. My parents didn't believe me. You may think this rude of my parents not having faith in their son, but to be honest I never really gave them reason to possess said faith all through High School. I screwed up with parental support, why strive when I had no curfew or parental advisory? Nevertheless, I pulled it off much to my parents' delight.

I had roughly two and half weeks at home. The best part being I was going to see my entire family for the first time since over a year ago. It was very joyous as conversations commenced with the topic matter being of such sophisticated affairs as defecation and who is 'gayer' and why. Yes, having my family home is awesome, and no I'm not being sarcastic. I'm strange in that sense as today's culture seems to hate their siblings, parents, cousins etc. I can honestly say I love spending time with my family.

For Christmas I got pretty much everything I wanted and more. All I really asked for though was warm clothes. A pea coat, a down jacket, a scarf, two pairs of gloves, and two sets of thermals and wool socks: I was ready for whatever this Rexburg winter could dish out. Again I spent my time with family and friends. It was most enjoyable and very difficult to go back to school.

And yet here I am- in school again. The average temperature from day to day can be counted on just your hands, and sometimes you only need one. Especially since the other may be stuffed so far into your pocket for warmth you couldn't use it to count anyway. I'm taking a relaxing 14 credits which will make me a sophomore at the end of the semester. Those credits consist of a humanities class, a science class, a religion class, a geography class, and last but certainly not least: my Mandarin 101 class. Yes, I am taking Mandarin and I LOVE it. The way the language is set up and how the characters have come to be is fascinating. Speaking and reading the language is coming along as normally as Spanish did, but the character writing is giving me a bit more trouble, but I am learning.

I sit behind a guy from Mexico in that class so whenever we don't know what's going on, we'll talk in Spanish to make ourselves feel better about our lack of Mandarin skills. Also, I sit next to a girl from China in my religion class and she has offered to help me whenever I need it, so I share what few phrases I know to her. She'll laugh and correct whatever pronunciation errors I have made. In turn I've offered to help her with American History. I know my sister's are laughing now since I'm not the tutoring type. Yes I realize it's not exactly a fair trade-off. But if you think of it this way: She knows as much American History as you know of Chinese History. I'm better than nothing and it's the least I can do to make it a symbiotic relationship.

Wo shi hao xuesheng he wo shuo yidiar zhong wen. Duile ta jiao Yu he ta shi hen bucuo!

Anyway, I created my schedule much better than last semester and the earliest class I have is at 9 on T/TH and 10:45 on M/W and a whopping 12:45 on Fridays. Much much better than last semester.

This semester is shaping up to be just as good as the last and maybe even better. I'll try to keep up on my posts as I'm sure you're hanging on to every word. But for now I leave you as I must practice my characters!

Zai Jian!

He was my best friend

Louis William Ostler September 18 2000-November 11 2010

I struggle to write this as every time I do, my eyes well up and my chest wants to explode. But I'll do my best to convey what an amazing dog he was.

I always thought (and kinda hoped) that if Louie ever did die, he would die while I was on my mission. Somehow I thought that would make it easier. Now I'm at college and I can attest to the fact it only makes it harder not being there to say goodbye.

My family got Louie when I was only 8 years old. I've written numerous personal narratives about that night so I suppose I'll write one more. 

It was mid December and we were playing board games like any good cheesy Mormon family. I remember my sister Sarah explaining the next game and how much I didn't want to play anymore. The doorbell rang and my Sarah said 'Why don't you get it Dave?' At the time I was confused and mad that I had to get it. I was 8 years old for Pete's sake and I never normally answered the door. But alas, I got up and opened the door only to see a box on the porch. I didn't know at the time that it wasn't just a box, but rather a doggie crate. I looked inside and saw a snowy white puppy curiously looking back at me. I started yelling back to my family: 'GUYS! THERE'S A DOG OUT HERE!' Past recollections tell me that all my siblings thought (and I suppose still do for other reasons) I was retarded. As I brought in the crate, my family came out into the landing. We shut the door and opened the crate and let the dog come out and go crazy. Laura and Becca were crying because they had always wanted a dog and I was running outside to shout my thanks to Santa (there had a been a note on the top saying it was an early Christmas present). We played with it and thought of names and knew that this dog would be a fabulous dog.

The next day, I taught the dog how climb up the stairs. Being only a few months old, I noticed it perplexed by these 'stairs' I showed him how to climb up them one by one till finally we made it to the top. As we laid on my parents' bed, I asked my father what we should name him. I wanted Curly since I lacked creativity and his hair was in fact curly at the time. I don't remember other names besides Laura wanting 'Tito'. My dad then suggested 'How about Louie?' And after that, it stuck.

I could literally write a book about all the hilarious things Louie would do, but I will only share a few. 

The most prominent of memories are of his infamous Bichon Buzzes. His breed is Bichon Frise (French, King Louis, his name yadda yadda yadda little details I couldn't splice in) and every once in a while when he'd get all wired up, he'd go on a running spree, often making circuits between couches, chairs, and other living room fixtures. He'd run at top speed for a minute or two until he pooped out, lapped up some water and late his underbelly on any cold surface (usually the granite by the fireplace) to cool off.

He also had an insatiable thirst to cuddle and surround himself with things. Anytime you were on your bed, a couch or a chair that could barely fit yourself, he'd jump right up with you and protect you from anything so you could sleep, read, or watch tv in peace. And if you weren't sitting down, but there were blankets or pillows on such surfaces, he'd hop up and envelop himself in them to be as cozy as possible.

Finally, I want to note his smile and good nature. In all my years with him, he never barked maliciously or bit even the smallest child. He'd play and pretend he was fierce but deep down he was a wuss just like his owner. And whenever we'd be prancing down the sidewalk, he'd look up at me, wind in his glorious 'fro, and have the happiest smile on his face. I'd chuckle and call him a dork. We were both dorks. That's why we were so great together.

After Becca left for college, I was left alone with my parents until I, myself, went to college. I thought it'd be miserable, but Louie kept me company. Most prominently, I remember nearly two years ago, I had a terrible ear infection. I couldn't sleep so I took some Tylenol and watched TV in the early hours of the morning. Louie came in from my room, looked up at me and jumped up on the couch and cuddled with me as I watched TV and eventually fell asleep. Louie was always there for me when I was sick, depressed, or just needed a laugh. All he had to do was lay there with me.

Louie was an amazing dog to say the least. There are not enough positive adjectives in the world to describe that fine dog. He was my best friend for 10 years. I haven't cried this much for God knows how long. But I promised myself a long time ago I would never let anything dwell too long inside of me. He was a damn good dog and I hope my kids will have a dog half as great as Louie was to me.

I'll miss you buddy, enjoy the endless buffet of mashed potatoes, scrambled eggs, popcorn and used tissues. I know you'll love it up there. You were, hands down, the best.

Biking, Insensitivity, and Snow

This weekend was surprisingly the funnest weekend I've had up here. Friday, I joined up with my buddy Andrew and a friend he met at BYU summer semester named Kyle. For those of you that know Craig Perry, Kyle is Craig... I saw him on campus once and thought it was in fact Craig.
Anyway, we met up with some women and went to a local burger joint-Sammy's. They specialize in burgers fries and shakes. They are quite delicious. We all got shakes and walked around town just lolling around. The night was uneventful for the most part, just good socializing.
Saturday morning though, I woke up early and headed out for a bike ride with my friend Spencer. My bike is a single speed and made of steel, and his is from the 80s and is louder than a Hybrid. Obviously we weren't breaking any speed records. I had mapped out a route that would take us into farming country where the roads were all pretty flat and surprisingly smooth.

 

The initial climb up to the temple essentially 'paid' for all the downhill the rest of the way. Since it's quite literally the middle of nowhere, there were very few cars on the road. And by cars I mean trucks that belong to the farmers. 95% of the time we had the road to ourselves and had ample space to goof around and ride no handed. Very skillfully, I took off my backpack, got my camera out, and snapped this picture... All while riding no handed.

We rode roughly 26 miles and completed in a time I'd rather not share. (Spencer is slower than me despite the fact he has at least 4x more functioning gears at any one time.)

I got home, showered, ate, laid around until the evening time. I then met up with Andrew and Kyle again and we were picked up by some friends and we all went to Chili's down in IF (Idaho Falls). There we celebrated one of the girl's birthdays and had a gay old time.
After the dinner, we headed back to Rexburg and met up at one the girls' apartments and had an 'Arab Dance Party'. Besides the possibility of eating nasty food and Bhangra dancing, I really didn't know what to expect, and quite frankly, I thought it was going to suck.

We walked in and some other people who weren't at dinner were already there and were dressed for the occasion: Towels rolled up and put on head, skirts with jingly metals, and fake beards. It was a surprise party (after the dinner? I know I was further confused...) so as more people got there, we applied fake beards and put towels on our head.
The birthday girl arrived, we didn't entirely surprise her, and the middle eastern music began. Eastern style dancing was attempted and was shockingly fun even though no one really knew what to do.

 

 Perhaps you can see Moses in the back left? When he walked in, we all, as if it were planned, shouted 'MOSES' from The Ten Commandments movie. 

At the end of the party, we said how we should have an 'Insensitive Party' every weekend. But we figured we wouldn't care if people in other countries had an American party and came dressed to that as a fat guy with a mullet. Especially since one guy came with paper towel tubes taped to his chest with TNT written on them... Good thing there's maybe 4 middle eastern people in the entire state of Idaho.

Sunday came-Stake Conference, or 10 hour church as I like to call it. Realistically it's only 2 hours, but with just talks, it seems to drag on a bit.

In the evening though, our apartment finally put plan into action as we, at long last, constructed our fort.

From the Kitchen^^

 

From the inside of our new fort room.^^

It's awesome. We tell secrets, eat popcorn and watch TV.

And finally, today I woke up the unpleasant noises of raindrops hitting out window. I put on pants and shirt and looked felt outside to see how cold it was. It was 2 zip up jacket weather.

I threw those on, brushed my teeth and put together my backpack. I grabbed my umbrella and headed outside. But now... It was snowing?! I wasn't sure if I was supposed to still use an umbrella. So I acted like a freshman and pranced around in my snazzy umbrella.

I was glad I did because at some points, the snow was going horizontally. While others tucked their heads down and walked blindly on the sidewalks, I stood tall, umbrella directly ahead of me, also walking blindly. The difference being, I didn't have snowflakes (that would inevitably melt and be wet) all over myself.

The week is only supposed to get colder so we'll see how long before I break down and cry. But I must go out on a high note so... There's less than 2 weeks before I come back to amazing California weather!