My Sense of Dork

I promise to always change the channel
When the Triple A commercial comes on.

I promise I'll still sing in the shower
And never get the exact words to a song.

I promise to always love breakfast
Even when I sleep in and skip it again.

I promise to break New Year's Resolutions
And never have a good-looking fake tan.

But mostly,
I promise,
To never lose
My Sense of Dork.

I promise to never be afraid
To eat food in front of the guys.

I promise my room will get dirty again
And I'll stick to my guns on what's right.

I promise to never date a guy
Who looks in the mirror more than myself.

I promise if you ask how many cookies I had,
I'll say three when I really had twelve.

But mostly,
I promise,
To never lose
My Sense of Dork.

I promise I don't lose my chapsticks
They get up and spitefully walk away.

I promise to always laugh loudly
And it's in my most thankful times that I pray.

I promise to always love makeup
And that childhood clubhouse will have a spot in my heart.

I promise my firstborn to Rumplestiltskin
And if you go to that one club, they will card.

But mostly,
I promise,
To never lose
My Sense of Dork.

See those Girls over there making Idiots of Themselves?- That's Us.

Cheyenna is one of my two best friends.

People have been forced to put up with our crazy antics since back in elementary. Somehow we manage to make even the most boring things fun. You know those inside jokes that annoy the heck out of you if your not in on them? We have lots of those.

We mark time less by the months and days of the week and more the wild adventures we create for ourselves.

We're in high-school. We need something to liven the party.

If you, Cheyenna, and myself, ever happened to be in the middle of a conversation and we began holding our breath, BE INSULTED. When people annoy us, we hold our breath with the hopes of passing out. ( The funniest part is seeing people who have no idea what we are doing join in.)

 

If your standing next to us in line at the grocery store and you watch us put our hands over our mouths and say, "CCccrrr- Do you read me? Over." Don't be alarmed. We're playing walkie-talkies. ( Duh..)

 

If you ever play any board game with us, conceal your suprise when we explain to you how when we play Scrabble, we allow one chance to search for specific tiles and look at eachother's letters. ( The fear that rushes through you when for that split-second you think you've been playing it wrong all these years is normal.)

 

If you happen to be listening to us mull over the concept of life, and hopes and dreams, you will have a few tear-jerking moments. ( Yeah dude, we're deep.)

 

If we begin speaking in Italian accents, you are lucky you are there to witness because, like a blue moon, those times are rare and totally awesome.

 

Chey and I always say, "If we had a show we'd..." some crazy skit. Our idols are the cast of Saturday Night Live and if we could be anything in this world, we'd be sketch-comics on the show. Whether we're teasing about politics, current news, the perils of running over deer, or helping that one kid who never stops asking questions, we've made a great skit.  We always say, "We really need to write these down!" and we should. I hope our high jinx could make others laugh as hard as it does us. But even if it didn't it would be okay. Our craziness puts rose-colored glasses on life. We know things will always be okay. We laugh hard and smile often even when things grow a little dark. No matter how crazy and loud this world gets. No matter the distance between us. We will always hear eachother out.

We have walkie-talkies.

 

Ode to Cup of Noodles

I got in trouble this weekend. Nothing too serious, just a battered pride. Someone snuck into the kitchen and ate my dad's granola bars. He was furious. Finding no admitted culprit, he sent my two brothers, my sister, and myself to bed at 7:30. If being an innocent bystander roped in with criminals and going to bed when the sun is shining wasn't bad enough, my dad decided that as part of our punishment, for dinner we would only be allowed Cup of Noodles.
Cup of Noodles?
Cup of Noodles?!
I thought to myself. "Do you know how terrible Cup of Noodles is?" I had personally never eaten Cup of Noodles, but I was sure of a few things. The flavor is beef, but there is no meat. The carrots and corn and peas are dehydrated and look like long lost cousins of rocks. Cup of Noodles never goes bad. That's gross.

I sat in my room completely fine with not eating dinner. Then I got hungry.

"Alright." I told myself. "Just take a few bites so your not super-hungry." I took a bite. Then another. Then another. Then I grabbed a pencil and wrote this poem.

Ode to Cup of Noodles

Cup of Noodles I thought
You would not be delish.
You were a bubbling broth
Brewed by a witch.
I was disgusted by your shriveled peas, carrots, and corn.
One glance at you and I filled with scorn.
Hot water for three minutes
Then I take a taste.
No sooner it touch my lips,
No time I did waste.
Mouthful after Mouthful
Of an elixir I previously thought so foul
Carrots, Corn, and Peas once shriveled,
Now fresh and round.
Oh Cup of Noodles,
I now consider you so sweet.
Just one small complaint
As I continue to eat.
I wish that you had
Seasoning Packets like Ramen.
But other than that Cup of Noodles is Bombin'!

...Yes I really wrote that. Moral of the story is don't judge a book by it's cover. I do like Green Eggs and Ham; Cup of Noodles is fantastic.