Funny Times in Accounting: Part VII

"Watch out for stairs," Johan said to Veronica. "And walls and closed doors."

Oh my gosh. Funniest thing I've ever heard.

I have stumbled upon greatness.

Once again my procrastination and random Internet browsing has paid off! And this time in double!

The above picture is of an author that I like named John Green. He is excited because a nerdfighter* asked him to propose to his girlfriend (who is also a nerdfighter) and she said YES! It was really cool, and I feel like you should watch it.

Since most that read my blog won't know what a nerdfighter is:

I believe that the Vlogbrothers have their HTML disabled, so I couldn't actually post the video in this blog, but here's the link!

The next thing is this. It doesn't need a description--just trust me when I say it's amazing and click on it.

-Maggie

Today,

I got a Tumblr.

I was feeling terribly guilty afterwards, like I'd cheated on a lover and that lover was Blogger. So I deleted it. It's over now, and I swear to never stray again.

You probably think I'm crazy, that I have deep psychological issues, because the whole thing put me in such distress . . .

and you'd probably be right in thinking that.

I don't know why I feel so guilty about things that don't have actual feelings (because it's not just this. There are many other things. For example: When I was little, I had this bunny in blue pajamas named Mr. Rabbit. I slept with him all the time, and squeezed his neck very tight, so his head was dangerously close to popping off. My mom took Mr. Rabbit so she could fix him, but she never did. He's in the attic somewhere, stuffed in a trashbag with my rejected animals. I miss him, and still feel guilty that he's up there).

Yeah.

Anyway, although Tumblr is really cool and it has an iPhone app so I could blog from my phone, I decided to stick with Blogger. We've been together for awhile, and it's been good to me.

Why change a good thing?

-Maggie

Thanks, D-Dad.

"Many people think that if they were only in some other place, or had some other job, they would be happy. Well, that is doubtful. So get as much happiness out of what you are doing as you can and don't put off being happy until some future date." -Dale Carnegie

-Maggie

Funny Times in Accounting: Part VI

"It's something so . . . I can't believe I'm about to say this word--don't hit me--miniscule. . . ." Melany said.

Melany won't stop doing the hand-jive.

FIYAAAAAA!

I thought I'd start this off with a bang. Well, it's only a bang if you didn't know I'd dyed a streak of my hair red for volleyball. I don't know how many of you knew. . . . I know it's not really red since they didn't cover up all the bleached blonde, and I forgot to heat it with a blow dryer before rinsing it out so it's kind of

orangey, but it looks like fire all together! I think it's neat.

Anyway, tomorrow we play Lindsay for the Regional Quarterfinals match, and I don't know about you, but I'm FREAKING OUT! Because, I mean, if we don't win then volleyball is over–forever.

And Lindsay is beast! They're number one in the state and every single one of them is, like, a six-foot tall Amazon woman! (Really, every other team that we've played (excluding Moran, but they're always excluded) have Amazonian height. Everyone on our team is roughly the same size, which is abou

t 5'4" or 5'5". It's really quite sad.)

I'm excited though. And we have to win–we're going to win–because my dad couldn't get off work and he's going to see my last volleyball game, and it's NOT going to be this one. I refuse to lose for this reason.

For those of you who care, I apologize for the lack of decent posts, but I've been so busy with school, volleyball, Scream Team, and life that it's insane. When I do have free time (usually on Saturdays), I'm too exhausted from doing all that stuff to accomplish anything of real value!

THIS IS ME BY SATURDAY (SHOWN IN SEPIA TONE TO BECAUSE IT'S BLAH AS WELL).

My room has descended into chaos. If I could figure out a way to upload this picture from my phone to this computer to show you, I would. But I can't. Just believe me when I say that it is completely awful, and not just by my standards. It's awful by EVERYONE'S standards. It's driving me crazy. I have never spent less time in my room than I have these past few weeks, and if you know me, you know that's weird.

Wish me luck. With everything.

-Maggie

So, um, yeah.

(Editor's Note: The story below is from the Thursday of Homecoming Week. Yes, I know that was four weeks ago, but the original plan was to make this a huge blog talking about every day of that week. There were a few–uh–snags in the plan though. . . . There was just so much going on, and by the time I actually had time to sit down to write, I was too tired! And now, it's been so long since that week, I can't even remember what happened on all the other days. So here's Thursday. Take what you get.)

The sky was a dark purple and lightning lit the clouds orange in the distance. Melany and I had just left the shed where our Homecoming float was stored and pulled in front of her house when I got a text from Marcus.

"Brookshire's parking lot now!"

"Did you get Marcus's text?" I called to Melany.

"Yeah . . . I don't know if I could go though," she said.

"Then go ask! Just for an hour? My curfew's at ten. Tell them that."

She went inside to ask and was climbing into my car seconds later.

I had just put my car in drive when my phone started ringing. It was Husmann asking if we had gotten Marcus's text. I told her Melany and I were already headed that way, and that I'd come pick her up.

We picked her up and soon pulled onto Main Street. As we neared the stoplight,* we saw the flashing lights of police cars near the bank park. We slowed down, but kept driving towards the cars, our small town curiosity getting the best of us.

"Was there a wreck?!" asked Melany.

My heart skipped a beat and my breath caught in my throat as I thought of everyone in my class that had just left the float; scared that if something had happened it was one of them.

"It doesn't look that bad if there was. . . ." I said, mostly to calm myself down.

As we got closer, I could see "the cowboys" swinging traffic flashlights around to drive people through and a bunch of girls running around carrying . . . paintrollers?

"Oh my gosh! It's just the cheerleaders painting the street," I said feeling relieved, albeit dumb.

I parked on the edge of the parking lot by Marcus's truck where the cheerleaders were still in view, shut off the engine, and we climbed out. Marcus started some music and we sat on his tailgate, talking about nothing in particular.

It had been lightning this whole time, but the storm was still a ways off. Or we thought it was.

Melany's phone rang and she walked a few feet away to talk.

"Hey, guys. My dad just called and said that there's a big storm about to be in Albany, and it'll be really windy and might hail," Melany told us as she rejoined the group.

Literally seconds later, Husmann held her hand out and looked towards the sky, and I felt a drop graze my ear. I looked towards the cheerleaders who suddenly screamed as they scattered in all different directions, and could hear a dull roar.

We all paused for a half-second before . . .

"OH NO!"

I fumbled with the passcode on my car door while Melany and Husmann screamed and the rain started coming down harder.

"BYE!" Marcus called as we slammed the doors.

We sat safely inside my car, laughing while the rain outside became what is known as a torrential downpour.

It was just one of those moments that you probably had to be there for, but still. Life is funny, guys.

-Maggie

Funny Times in Accounting: Part V

"Paul," Mrs. Johnston said. "They're working."

"I'm filing for divorce this weekend," Coach Johnston stated. "The love left our marriage long ago! We're only still together because I didn't want her to raise Leif alone. He'd turn into a sissy."