I know, okay? I know!

I know. I know. I know! I know already, okay? I KNOW!!! I haven't posted since June! Shame on me! Do you want to hear what I have to say, or what? Good. Shut up and listen. I SAID SHUTUP! Thank you. :)

I moved. I moved from my beautiful house in California to this. I was loving it here, at our house in Poulsbo, on the beach. But today I miss California more then ever. I don't know why...well, okay, that's not true.

Mainly, I miss our cats. Really bad. Those awful people "own" them, but they're really ours at heart. So is that house. So is my awesome pink and brown bedroom which is probably white now. I really want to go back! I want to sit by the fire on stormy days! I want to tend my old garden on sunny spring days! I want to climb Mother Moss, an old mossy, olive tree. I want to swing on our swing set, and I want to rollerblade down my driveway. I want to sleep in my big room at night, and in the morning, I want to make my old bunk bed and go downstairs for breakfast. I want to go home.

My Best Friend Went Crazy

Okay! Something totally not cool happened Friday night. I have no clue what got into her, but the morning after the night Jamie slept over, she went buggeye. TOTALLY OOBER ECCENTRIC.  I woke up, and woke her up.
"Alright, open up your bloody eyes, and let's get some life to ya." I say, shaking Jamie
"Wha? Oh, duh. Nuinbirgwibbernabb." She replied. I thought she was just groggy, but man was I wrong.
I realized this when she said she was going to get her 'breakfast' and started walking towards the bathroom. I told her that she couldn't just drink toilet water. She said "Oh ya" and turned towards the craft closet. Now, I didn't like the image of my friend going through my aunt's art supplies and seeing which color glitter tasted best. So I rushed over and tugged on her long, messy hair.
"C'mon, Jammie. Mess-hall is downstairs."
I don't want to describe how Jamie wanted to eat her plate with breakfast. After that, I took her to my room, and started throwing pillows at her to stop (this usually works. She's paranoid about pillows for some reason. She even sleeps on her stuffed animal she's so scared).
That didn't work, so all I could do was wack some sense into her. I held my breath and yanked as hard as I could on the long braid of hair I'd just done. Her head went back, and she yelled something like 'Yahooie' and then started staring at me really hard. I figured it out. She was still asleep. Last night she was drinking something...So I looked in her bag. There were about three empty cups of coffee in there. She was asleep with her eyes open. So I got my brother's spray-on deodorant. That stuff smells like what you'd get if you crossed meatloaf with a cigar. And this is going to sound mean, but I sprayed it in her face. And in my defense, how was I sposed to remember to check if she slept with her mouth open? Well, that did the trick. And she's still mad at me! Can you believe that? Some one as sensible as Jamie McMyer. Oh well.

Blog Two: The art of sending persuasive e-mails
I had a big fight with this girl, this really mean girl. She started it. First, I was chatting with her older sister. I kindly pointed out the words she spelled wrong, 'might' and 'illegal' in her status message. I did it politely. Look:

Me: Um...I think you mean 'might' and 'illegal', not 'mite' and 'ilegal'.
Her: Um, actually, I kinda like stuff spelled wrong.
Me: Oh. Okay. Just thought I'd mention it.
Her: G2G
So then her little sister, my age, went on the computer and started hurling mean remarks:
Her: HAVING FUN CORRECTING MY SISTER'S SPELLING?
Me: Uh, no, actually, I kindly pointed out her mistakes. Are you mad? Because you are using Caps Lock.
Her: NO. Accident.
Me: Okay...
Her: Last time we chatted and you were pointing out my mistakes, my mom was pointing out yours.

(And meanwhile, my being so gracious spelling this right, I was stumbling on all her sentences because half of them were like 'misaks' and 'pinting' and 'chattid')
Me: So what?
Her: So you shouldn't be correcting us
Me: Well sorr-y, miss perfect, I didn't mean to butt in.
Her: g2g
And so, I decided to do what I love best--persuading her she was wrong. So I made this e-mail;
*******,
All I tried to do was kindly point out that you were making spelling mistakes. I know I do too, but really, grow up. You were spelling things wrong like a million years before I was. I know you are jealous because I'm likely to win that Valedictorian in college because of my flawless mechanics in grammar and writing. But I'm sure you will find in your heart, if you push aside your competitive ways and hopes, you will want to learn from my examples, and consider my greatness as roll model material for your life. You know I am. And I know when you come home with a bad report card, your mother uses me as an example for them.* Mend your ways, oh silly one.

~Anzie

*Hopefully good...I'm sure she uses me in a good way, right? I mean, what is possibly wrong with ME? I rock!

Ok, ok, so I sound a little vain. I'm not, really. I can be a drama queen, but mostly, I'm a tomboy. Oh, you just wait and see.

Author's Note: Blog One
This is a blog about a fictional character. Her name is Anzie Tompsan and she blogs being in middle school and posts tips from her experiences, on topics such as crushes, mean kids, mean teachers, mean lunch duty people and so on and so forth. I have these experiences, and believe me, all but mean teachers are at my school...but I still know about them. From a middle-schooler's view, weather you are a teacher or a student, I think you would find this blog useful.

BLOG ONE: Changing Mr. or Mrs. Mean-lunch-duty-person

At my school, me and my BFF make up names for certain people. In fact, we made up our own LANGUAGE, and it's funny to watch our parent's faces. Now they NEVER know what we're talking about, so we can talk about how to get back at Her Royal Big Fanny right in front of them! Of course, we never have the guts to do any of the mean stuff we planned too. We think up terrible stuff. But hey, it's fun to dream! Anyways, back on topic. We had this oober mean (excuse me, by accident I may use my native words sometimes) lunch-duty person guy. We called him 'Mean Man'. There was also an oober nice lunch-duty person guy. And guess what we called him? Yep, 'Nice Man'. One day me and some kids were walking into the lunch area. Some other kids ran past us, which you're not allowed to do. The dude thought it was us and said we had to go back to our classroom and walk. This wouldn't be so bad, except that our classroom is way on the other side of campus. Luckily, our sub saw it, and got mad at him and we didn't have to. Thanks googleplex times, Miss James! Well, I tell my mommy (and yes, I did just call her mommy) everything. So this is really her tip. She said a way to get revenge was to go and smile at him every day. So I tried it, and now he's never mean to me! He even called my friend 'sweetie'. But then there's this woman duddet named 'Mean Woman'...