The Exploits and Aliases of Emma: Streaker Extraordinaire

Emma is an enigma. Part 4 year old sister, part adorable blonde midget, part fruit loop, part hidden evil mastermind. In my mother's own words, "She is the most bizarre child." (Obviously she has forgotten my
childhood...)

Usually a jolly little elf, Emma ran to me this morning and clutched my leg, weeping. It was sudden, becaause i'd seen her only a moment earlier passionately kissing a door. She claims she was prodded with a garden tool by Glory (Most Wanted Sisiter #2). Who knows if it really did happen or what Emma did to provoke Glory, but in the end her fashion choices saved her hide. Nothing could pierce the multiple layers of leotards, frilly blouses, sweaters with embroidered Eskimos, and corduroy jumpers she wears. Jumpers, plural. Oh, and a tutu.

From the moment she was born she has been...unusual. I still remember playing with her when she was a freshly-baked little bun of a baby with crystal blue eyes and a a blonde, Vulcan-like hairstyle. Truly, she looked like a her mother was an angel and her father Spock. Anyway, so there we are. I, waving my arms around and contorting my face like a fool to entertain her. Emma, sitting in her car seat and laughing at this strange creature before her. In a, what I thought, show of sisterly affection she reached up and grabbed my hand. Smiling sweetly, she bit. For a toothless toddler her bite was worse than her bark. I can truthfully say that while she was growing out of her baby-hood I was nearly gummed to death several times.

I love her to cupcakes, but there have been trying circumstances. Most teenagers will invent a plethora of excuses why their homework is late:

"I accidentally put it in the offering at Church!"


"The school bully stole it from me at lunch!"


"Well, you see, I have this medical condition..."


"I was speeding and the cop took my essay to hold against me in court."


"I was abducted by aliens and they are currently using my homework to learn about the human mind."


"My/A (animal) ate it."


"It was pick-pocketed!"


"Oh, the book publisher has it to review for becoming their next novel."

You get the jist. Well, I have a honest-to-goodness excuses why my homework is missing, thanks to my lovely sister:

"Sorry, my sister found my homework and chewed it up."


"Oh, that paper! My sister Emma colored on it."


"The math problems were all done but my sister buried it in the garden for "treasure hunt"."


and, my favorite,


"I'm sorry, I had it completed but my little sister Emma peed on it."

Yes, peed. All over the literature assignment that I had hand-written. The potty-training years were hard on us all.

I no longer have to say, "What child? The one kissing that stranger's car? Nope, don't know her." Emma has started to give out aliases and completely re-writing her life story. At the doctor's office, for example:

Disco Doctor (thats a whole other story): "So, whats your name little girl?"

Emma: "Christina Georgey."

Me: "No, its not. It's Emma."

Emma (completely serious): "No. I'm Alice Georgy."

Me: "You said Christina."

Emma (Patting my knee pityingly): "You are wroooooong, Hannah.It's my new names."

When my Dad went to go pick-up Emma from the sunday school of a church we were visiting, the teacher looked shocked to see him. Emma quickly cleared up the confusion for everyone. "Oh, Daddddy! You are my other Daddy. My first Daddy died in the war. But then I married you!" Really, how long will it take these big-people to understand the simplest things?

Despite years of experience with the mysterious midget, she still manages to surprise me. Who wouldn't do a double-take when they glanced out the window to see their little sister, buck-naked, streaking with wild abandon through the yard for everyone to see?

This is exactly what she looked like. Only, more secretive and less frosting.

So thats it for now, its been awhile since I checked on my sisters and they've been scarily quiet. Past times when this has happened i've found them doing such delightful childhood activities such as, oh you know, having a tea party with creek water and a tea-time snack of rocks and dirt (which Emma tried to eat). Oh, or hunting down one of my friends and pantsing them. Yes, this really has happened. Or hosting stuffed-animal cage fighting in the garage. But, come what may, life is never dull with Emma around. Hilariously humiliating, maybe.But never dull.

I love you, Emma.

My sisters are the darndest things,
-Hannah

Things I Don't Know About (aka Sports)

Google Images. Like Every other picture unless I specify.

I looked over my blog this week and realized that I write about a lot of the same stuff over and over. I write a lot about food (its just that good), dancing, math, trips I promise to write about eventually (but never do because I'd never stop), sleep (or lack there-of), and everything is splattered in lolcatz and gifs. I think I might have a slight fascination...

Anyway, things are gonna change around here. Today i'm going to write only about things I don't know about, breaking one of the time-tested rules of literature. Well, literary rules can go hide under the sofa and read Wooster and Jeeves until i'm done.

So...things I don't know about. This could take awhile.

-Football
Albert Pujols plays football, right? Or-wait. Nevermind.
Football is one of the more interesting sports. People being tackled, dog piled, and occasionally breaking a femur. What I want to know is who's idea it was to dress the players in skin-tight spandex and padded shirts? They have one a sadistic stylist.
See http://hannah-hoo.blogspot.com/2011/02/wheres-etrade-baby.html

-Baseball

I do have experience with baseball! Well, if dancing on the field during Global Day of Prayer counts. Baseball has got to be the slowest game known to man besides snail racing and competitive paint drying. However, the last baseball game I went to was not a complete bust. I got ice-cold coke, a hot dog, and finishe Fantastic Spiderman, Volume 1. Besides that I vaguely remember that the cardinals were playing a blue team. You can guess who won. (Sorry, Matt and all people who love that all-american past time. Go here for a buddy:http://hometowndiscount.blogspot.com/)

-Golf
WHY? What makes people want to watch as people hit a little white ball with a little silver stick into a little green hole. Golf does, however, make excellent TV to watch when you need a good nap.

Honestly, the only reason i'd watch golf is this guy.

-Tennis
David Tate is the only person who has ever made tennis sound interesting, I have to say. So that elevates it to being more interesting than baseball, less interesting than football. At least people occasionally get pelted with a furry green ball. Now that's entertaining.

(Ok, lets just assume for the moment i'm virtually clueless about everything sports-related. But I do like soccer.)

-Being enrolled in real, honest-to-badness public school. Sure, i've seen the movies and read the books about the pop facade of High School, but i've never actually experienced it for myself. The few times I have stepped into a public school (for testing, contests, etc.) everyone seems to be sleepwalking.And texting.

-Having Short Hair
Correction, I did have short hair when I was about 6. Then I watched the Disney princess movies and had the idea that princesses have long hair firmly stuck into my little cranium. Now its waist-length and I don't know if I could ever just snip-snap  it all off. Plus it really would come in handy as a scarf, an aid for tower-climbing princes, and for strangling attackers. Or anyone who tries to cut it.

-Being in a romantic relationship
The closest thing i've had to a boyfriend is Peter Pan when I was 10. Like every relationship, we had our problems. Him being fictional was the tie-breaker. Honestly, i'd like to wait for romance until college. I don't want to give away little pieces of my heart to short-term boyfriends to only meet my future husband and bestow him with swiss-cheese affection. Not to say that dating in high school isn't right for everyone, its just what I choose. I know i'm not ready, at least at this moment in time, to deal with someone else's emotions as well as my own. Someday, some lucky guy.

-The Simpsons
Yup, i'm in that 10% minority that hasn't seen an episode of the Simpsons. Just a clip or commercial here or there.

-Twilight (Books and Movies)
...and i'm also the minority that hasn't seen/read Twilight. Unattractive, undead, pale, sparkly vampire dudes just aren't my cup of tea. Nor guys who can't keep their shirt on and have excessive hair issues, though shapeshifters are much more pulchy than bloodsuckers. Probably the real reason I haven't read/watched the series is i'm too easily hooked on "doomed romance" cliff-hanger series.

(I'm really in a lot of minorities, huh? But, still human. Probably. ;)

-Politics
This is like the floor of a movie theater: a sticky subject and something I don't usually stay on for too long if I can help it. I know the basics: Total government control: bad.This guy is the good guy, you want him to win the election. This guy is the bad guy, you don't want him to win. They will challenge each other to a traditional duel with swords to become president of the united states. See? I know everything I need to about our government.

-Being an only child
Oh, that fabled childhood of the chosen few. Still, I wouldn't trade my siblings for the world (unless it comes with chocolate rivers and cotton candy clouds). My years of being a older sister/default mother have trained me well. I can change a diaper in my sleep, repair stuffed animals with super glue and paper clips, and carry multiple children at once. Being a mister (fake mother/sister) has given me a love of children, the skills to care for my own children in the future, and the resolve to put off having said children for a long time. Oh, the day when I can open a pack of gum- no, anything, and a chorus of voices don't call out: "CAN I HAVE ONE, TOOOOOO?"

Those are just a few of the things I don't know about. Looking back at the list, I sound far too stereo-typical homeschooler. If I had a nobel prize and constantly wore floor-length jean skirts it would complete the picture. Honestly, people, i'm not that strange! Now, where did I put my new gene-splicing make-your-own clone kit?

Jellyfish is the new black,
-Hannah

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