Carpal tunnel is a horrible, horrible thing. Don’t have it, people. Just don’t.
All right, enough complaining. I’ll be all right, I just need to stop trying to be the concert pianist that I’m not. It’s just so much fun to play around on the piano, you know? If I practice my flute I have to actually practice, and be all focused and work and stuff. Since I’m not a piano major, though, I can just goof off. Unfortunately my hand position is not very good and so now I’m stuck in that awkward brace. But nobody wants to hear about that. This blog is not a whining outlet.
So, here is the promised entry from one of my old journals. Tigerlilly, to be exact, who was my mmmm 6th journal? 7th? Ish. I’m not sure. Anyway, I chose this one because it was funny to me that I was trying to improve my description skills even then. I don’t remember doing that, however I DO remember this girl visiting and cutting the penny in half. I don’t know what I did with it or else I’d post a picture of it. Oh well. Here’s a picture of Tigerlilly instead:
July 18th, 2007
Description time, Tigerlilly!
The door bell rang. I closed my book, “Indigo’s Star,” and went into the den to see who it was.
“Hi,” said my mom. I couldn’t see her or the visitor yet, but I heard the doorbell-ringer say, “Hi, I’m sorry I’m a bit early…”
And then they walked in.
I remembered my mom telling me that a lady was coming to show her knives. The girl wasn’t the same as I imagined her. She was short, shorter than me, and when she walked by me I felt really tall and awkward. She has black hair, but it’s not a shiny black, more of a dull, pretty black. Her hair is long, almost as long as me, and she pulled it back into a loose pony tail. She’s wearing a pale pink, long sleeved shirt (long sleeves in the summer???) that has one of those low necks with cloth that hangs loosely, like this!
Ok, that was a bad drawing. Anyway, she’s wearing long, light colored kaki pants that are tight, and black shoes with about a 3-inch heel. They’re sandals, and I can see her toenails. They’re long, and have white painted on the edges. A French manicure.
She’s young (mom says she’s in college) and has a nice voice, like a girl in a TV commercial. Right now, she’s showing my mom different knives and how they work. She talks fast, and I think she’s a good sales woman. She has a little binder with info in it she’s holding up to show my mom. Behind it, so it’s sort of hidden, there’s some sort of manual. A script? I thought she sounded a little too commercial.
“Ma’am, what would you say if I said I could cut this penny in half, or even just dent it?”
“Hm,” says mom as the girl (she said her name is Kristina) takes the penny and puts it between the blades of a pair of shears she says are called “super shears.”
“Cool?” I offered the word, and they both laughed. Then, she pushes on the shears, and whoa! She sliced that penny in half!
“Wow,” says mom.
“Nice,” I said, and Kristina picked up one of the halves and gave it to me.
“You can keep that,” she said, like I was some sort of kid she was giving a treat. I smiled politely. What am I going to do with a half a penny? Spend it? Hey, that would be kind of funny.
“Here you are!”
“Uhh… ma’am, this is only $9.95 and a half.”
“Oh, is it? Well, half a cent won’t make much a diference, now, will it?”
I would be rolling on the floor laughing. Yeah. Totally trying that one day.
Hey! Did you know that pennies are silver inside? Hm. Well, they are. I think that’s weird.
Anyway, she’s still showing knives. Knives with life time guarantees knives that don’t break, knives that cut through watermelon and pineapple like water, and so on and so forth. Lots of knives.
Well, I’m tired of writing about the knife lady now, so I’m going to stop. I’ll just watch the presentation, and be obnoxious whenever I get a chance. Later!
See, I’ve been trying to work on my description skills since I was 14 (I was practically 14. I had like 3 days left.) How do you think I did? Have you ever seen the inside of a penny?