Well, as the pinch hitter for our blog team, I'm stepping up to the plate. That's a metaphor, by the way. Because there is no plate. Unless I was eating a poptart or something while I'm writing this, but I'm not because my mom bought the strawberry kind and not the cinnoman kind. Plus that wasn't the kind of plate I mean anyway, because I'm talking about baseball. And I don't have a bat near the computer. I'm not allowed anymore after the monitor incident...
No really I'm kidding. I've never hit anything with a baseball bat. Unless you count a softball. Which I have hit. And this kid's head. But I was really little and you can't blame me.
So, seriously, I am really filling in for Sam because as the second team member it is my job to pick up the slack. And Sam is busy making milk plastic or something.
Nothing happened today that is worth commenting on. I learned how to say retirement savings bond in French. And I fixed Musicmatch by myself. Which is hard. But I just cheated by installing a new version. You should try it if you have that problem, but then don't tell you dad later what you did.
Last night I had this dream about lying under a black cover and hiding from people who were fighting a war. And then people were like 'you should fight the war too' and then I did. But I didn't get to go out before my alarm went off. Which in retrospect is ok with me because I don't want to fight a war.
I was also doing Yoga and coloring on the floor but it wasn't real Yoga and I didn't do it because I ran around instead.
Well I just looked at the clock on the phone and it's like ten minutes later than I though it was, which in my highly busy life is like three hours. So I have to go get things done. Which you will too when you grow up.
So I was thinking about the pressure to say funny stuff, which of course there is when you write a blog, and how everybody liked my first post which was funny but now I'm not as funny because you don't know how unfunny obligatory writing can get. So now I'm just at a loss for funny things. Although I did think that subliminal message was kind of funny...
Well this has been what I would call a solid double from pinch hitter Rachel. (that's what we call and extended metaphor, class). She's going to go clean her cleats now, and wash the dirt out of her uniform (although how she got dirty running to second is beyond us...).
Arrivederci mes amis