Angels, Tutus, and-Ouch!

Actually wrote this on Sunday and have been to preoccupied to do anything with it until now:

I have spent far too much time today trying to come up with something to post. Everything has either been too personal, too impersonal, too lackluster, too wild, too toodles to simply post. Something that has been difficult about writing about me for other people to see being honest but not brutally so. It can be, depending on what i'm wanting to talk about, like trying to drive a steam-roller through a Wall-Mart aisle and not run over any fingers and toes. As in I could very well end up banned from Wall-Mart, revoked of my imaginary steam-roller licence, and be sued by all my friends. The real question is, if I were as tactful as possible, what in the cupcake would there be left to write about? Nothing. Well, nothing and mathematics. (And that would be offensive to me.)

On to today, which is (was) a glorious Sunday. This means we get up at the crack of 9:00, pile into the van, and zoom off to church for a morning of worship, fellowship, and maybe even a real ship. I wonder if God ever gets a kick out of how we hold our hands up when we are praying or singing. I mean, really. From his point of view it looks like we're all holding our hands out for sweets or waiting for a heavenly high-five. Maybe, unawares, angels are high-fiving us during worship. I don't know how i'm going to keep a straight face next Sunday.

I really, really need to go do other things right now (Surprise! Schoolwork!) but I will leave you with this lingering question;

Question of the Day: Why do some guys think wearing their pants on the ground is attractive? For the love of all things covered in rainbow sprinkles, WHY?

Look'in Like A Fool,
-Hannah

So that was Sunday. And today is Wednesday. And every muscle in my body hurts like chewed bubblegum.

This would be due to me starting a lyrical dance class. Or, rather, re-starting since I took dance for the majority of my midget years. It was great to get back into a dance studio and join the ranks of fools in tights leaping, twirling, and twisting myself into pretzels. I just didn't anticipate waking up the next morning and falling out of bed and having to roll up the stairs I was so sore. (Does not help that my bed is 5 feet tall.)

Alas, math will mot finish itself so I must fly like the wind! Er, hobble like a wheezy breeze.

Cheshire Clocks,
-Hannah