The turnip who ate San Fransisco. And New York.

You may not be aware of it, but my family grows vegetables every year. We plant radishes, peas, tomatoes (yes I'm aware that's a fruit- I'm probably listing tons of fruits, I just don't feel like correcting myself, deal?), spinach, lettuce, broccoli. We also plant those pinkish colored veggies called "turnips". Are you acquainted with them? Good.
Today we found out what happens if you plant a turnip in the spring, and don't harvest it until October.
First, here is our sink, filled to the top with, yes, turnips.


And here, my friends, is the gargantuan turnip that I swear is going to give me nightmares of the worst sort tonight.
(Note: that is my mom. Holding a turnip. Right next to her. (so it's not that distance size thing.). My mom is 5' 9". She is not a short person.)

So, we decided to cut it open. The turnip was very heavy, so that was a good sign.

It was also very hard. Which was also a good sign. It meant that it probably wasn't going to be rotten and filled to the top with ants. (can we hear a collective "ick!"??)
here is the turnip, in all it's turnip-py goodness:
My mom finally managed to cut that baby open:
and final decision: it IS "good", but it is far too bitter to ever eat.
so, there ends the life of the turnip.
....
....
....
or so you think.
*dum dum duuuuuuuuuummmm!!!!*

My crazy dream from last night.

I will tell this as a story.


Once upon a time I was at a Girl Scout camp out. This campout took place in the middle of nowhere, and strangely there were no girl scouts on it, except me, my mother, and my sister Monica. (who isn't even a girl scouts.) There was a house of which no one ventured into, and then three paths leading off into the forests.
I was just walking around outside the house when something black flew at my face, and a young man with black hair jumped in front of me.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he yelled (or something quite like it, I'm not sure of the spelling), and brandished what appeared to be a long pointy stick which could quite easily take out my eye.
I ducked to prevent that happening.
He turned around. "I'm Harry Potter. Those are dementors."
I nodded. Oddly this didn't seem odd.
"Here." He gave me a bottle of white spray paint. "Use this to scare them off." He ran off, waving that senseless pointy stick and yelling the gibberish words.
"Acck!" I spun around and sprayed a black thing.
It seemed to shriek though it made no noise, and fled backwards.
"Angela, Angela!"
I spun towards the voice.
My mother stood there, holding the leash attached to our dog, Fritz. "You won't believe what I Found! It's perfect for a letterbox!"
I frowned, but followed her into the forest.
For the living breath of me, I cannot remember what happened, but one minute I was walking along behind her, listening to her talk about her ideas for letterboxing, and the next minute I was standing on a bridge in front of Chicago, with two girls (who were fighting quite noisily) behind me.
Then it hit me.
I was there to get the amulet!
I took a step forwards, before man jumped in front of me.
"Am I not allowed in?"
He shook his head. "No. Chicago is closed."
I frowned. "Already? It's not even five o'clock."
He nodded. "it is... but you may want to go save them." he pointed over my head.
I turned around to see a dementor attacking the two girls, whose names I now remembered to be Meg and Kate.
"Save us!"
"Help me, save me!"
I rushed over and tried to spray the dementor with my white spray paint. It didn't work. I held the bottle the wrong way, and it flew onto my face, and I found it hard to breathe.
"Help! eeeek!"
I turned the bottle the right way, and sprayed the dementor, all the while gagging from the paint. Somehow I knew that I looked like I had a sickly white disease on my face.
"Thank you! Now we shall give you the amulet." Meg held out her hand and gave me a small round thing, which had three bars reaching upwards for about half an inch before they met and formed a cone.
"But I need the thread to make it work!" I took it from her, but gave Meg a worried look.
"No problem. You just have to dance."
I walked over to the signpost next to me. There were small scraps of blue paper pinned onto it. I have, to this day, no idea what they were for.
"But I don't dance!"
Then it was like I was in third person- I could see myself and hundreds of other people dancing! Two of them, girls dressed in long sleeved mini dresses made of a black and white woolen material, with long black braids were quite brilliant.
"Here, we award you the thread."
I took the magical thing and wrapped it around the amulet and hung it back around my neck. "I better go back."
"yes."
I turned my back on Chicago and started back down the path towards the Girl Scout campsite.
When I reached the camp site, I had strangely turned into Mr Utterson- a character from the book The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde .
I ventured into the house at last, and walked downstairs.
There was a large desk, and in front of the desk was a piece of wall covered in blue wallpaper and wooden paneling on the bottom half.
Ellen Degeneres stood in front of the wall, holding a water bottle. She nodded at me, and accidentally spilled the water on the ground. Then she walked off.
A woman with blond frizzy hair walked over, and glared in Ellen's direction. "Horrible woman. I wonder how the walls would like dye?" she took out a bottle with pink stuff in it, and squirted it over the walls. Then she took out a clear plastic bottle and sprayed that over the top too. I recognized the clear stuff to be acid.
I grabbed the bottle from her, and hurried over to the desk, where my friend Dr Jekyll (who was of course the judge) sat.
"It wasn't Ellen!"
"How do you know?"
"I saw it! And you can trust me- I'm an honorable victorian lawyer!"
Dr Jekyll nodded. "I believe you. Leave now."
I nodded, and left.

THE END.

Do you ever get it where you get one thing in your head and it won't leave?

I certainly do.
A couple weeks ago, I was trying to think of a word. I knew it started with a "B" and I knew it was used when someone said something along the lines of "He (insert word here) his sword and charged into battle." But I couldn't remember, for the life of me, what the word was!
I asked my mom. I asked my sister. I asked my smart 15 year old friend. I asked everyone. AND NO ONE KNEW! I knew it was a word. But I couldn't think of it!
And I couldn't figure it out.
Not for weeks.
Today I sent my friend (you know who you are) an email, and I asked her "*barrishes* WHAT THE HECK IS THAT WORD?! the word, it starts with a B.. I think.. and it's like.. holds up and waves in the air... You know, like He (insert word) his sword."
She emailed me back.
"Brandishes?? Is that the word you're looking for? lol"
YES!! YOU ARE CORRECT!!

bran·dish[bran-dish]

–verb (used with object)

1.

to shake or wave, as a weapon; flourish: Brandishing his sword, he rode into battle.

–noun

2.

a flourish or waving, as of a weapon.

that is the word. :)
Have any of you ever had an experience like that? What happened? Did you ever figure it out?
And that concludes this post!
(and again, thank you, oh friend!)

In case you need to cry...

Two songs/music videos.
They make me cry every time I see them.




and here's one too, that I can't embed.

Let's talk stupid.

So. Today was the science fair. That went beautifully- even though there was virtually no one there, and I finished my project ten minutes before we left. (not kidding.) But it was after we left the park (we went from the church to the park across the street) that I learned something:
That park discriminates against teens.
I'm not even kidding.
This park is right on a busy street. Where people can see the park. All the time. It's about a block from a police station. And it's next to a dance studio.
A couple of blocks down the road is the local high school. When school lets out, the teenagers like to go to the park. It's right next to the McDonalds- they can get food, go to the park, sit with their friends, and talk. Pretty simple, right?
If you answered yes, you are right.
It *is* simple. There should be nothing wrong with this. The park is public land, and people of ALL AGES are allowed to be on it. As long as they aren't being destructive, or doing anything illegal, it should be fine to have a group or two of teens on the property, right? (Correct me if I'm wrong.)
But *apparently* we teens are disruptive, destructive, and just not a good thing to have around. The evidence: if more then FOUR TEENS are in the park at one time, the dance studio has to call the police.
The police then come, look around, and either sit in the parking lot until they leave (um, creepy much?) or break it up and tell the teens to leave. The thing is, virtually always the teens are just sitting on the grass and talking. Apparently there was one case where two girls were fighting, and another where the skateboarders left their skateboards in the parking lot where a car could run over them.
In my opinion, this is discrimination, and they're leaving a fairly wide area for someone to sue them.
But what's your opinion?
Leave a comment with it in it.

so sorry that I'm taking soooo long. If you even read anymore.

Which I wouldn't blame you if you don't. Read this blog anymore, that is. I know I don't *cough* read any blogs *cough* anymore.. *coughcough* sorry! I just.. there's so many amazing blogs to read and I just can't read them! *hides ashamedly* sorryyyyyy!!!!!! don't kill me!! (in fact, leave a comment and I'll go back to reading your blog.. yes it's a bribe!!!)
anyway.

Tomorrow is the science fair, omigosh I'm a procrastinator. I got the email about it last month, and I didn't even CHOOSE a project until yesterday. *headdesk* I'm so stupid. Anyway, I'm doing a poll for it.. I'll post my results on here when I can. :) (really gotta get back into blogging.. and then maybe I'll get back into reading blogs!! :D ) So.. yeah. I'm back for now!
And to leave you, my brilliant blurb on sound (yeah right):

What is sound, anyway?

Sounds are vibrations in the air. When something vibrates, it causes the air particles around it to vibrate. Those in turn hit others and cause them also to vibrate, and so on. Eventually the air runs out of energy and stops moving. Think about a rock dropped into a pond. The circles move out, but eventually get slower and slower until they stop moving at all. That's like the sound waves. If you (and your ear) are close enough, the vibrations go into your ear and hit the ear drum. That in turn vibrates the same way the air was, and re-creates the “sound”. If the air waves are close together, they create a very high pitched sound- like a mosquito. If they're farther apart, they create a lower sound, like the sound of your younger sibling growling in irritation.

Sounds, while they sound the same to most people, can be perceived differently. It's up to your brain to identify the sound, and then mark it as “pleasant” or “unpleasant”. Because everyone's brains are different, people are going to think about different sounds differently. So I might think that the sound of rain is a pleasant sound, while someone else might think that it is simply horrid.