Dream a Little Dream of...Bee? Posted by Happy Blogger , 20.8.09 at Thursday, August 20, 2009, in

The other night, while I was sleeping in my tent trailer, I was having a really awesome dream. I mean, I don't really remember anything about it now, except for the fact that I was about to win some concert tickets. I was sitting in this bland white room, crowded with people, and then they pulled a name out of the draw and was saying "Happy Blogger, Happy Blogger!" All I was thinking was "I won, I won!", and then I realized that the voice was actually an 'external' voice. It was my sister beside me saying my name. It was about quarter to six in the morning, and she looks at me and says "I think I was stung by something, once on my ear, and once on my side". My initial reaction, was burrow deeper into my sleeping back, and cover my ear with my hair, but then she tapped me and said "Seriously, I think something stung me", so I'm still in my sleepy haze, sans glasses, and I was trying to look around the little trailer for, well whatever could have bit my sister. And then she crawled out her sleeping bag, and I squinted (cause sometimes it helps to see better) and I saw a little yellow and black bug crawling in her sleeping back. Well, geez, I wasn't gonna kill it, so we ended up waking up my father, who went outside and shook out the sleeping bag to find absolutely nothing. After an Advil, and some shifting around the trailer, we were heading back to bed, and I looked at my sister and said "So, I guess this means I didn't win the tickets...?!" She looks at me blandly, and falls back asleep.


I was still overly confused on how we never found it, but still, I bug my sister with the occasional..."Still sleeping with the bees?" and she just stares back and mimics, "HAHA, your soo funny!" Well, I thought it was.
-Happy Blogger

A Little Plate For Something Special... Posted by Happy Blogger , 17.8.09 at Monday, August 17, 2009, in

So far, this summer has been incredibl...ly long...boring. FUN! quiet. LOUD. up, down, splurging out the side, but it always seems to serve up something incredibl...ly nice. Whether it was quick pit stop at the closest restaurant, or burnt marshmellows, in they end, they all seemed to be, Nice.


If any of you have ever, you know, 'washed dishes', yeah, well try it camping! It's not always so inviting, where there is no drain, and the water will spill all over you, and you try to stay as clean as possible, because there are no washing machines close, and you fret about, making a big fuss over the nearing wasp thats whispering thoughts of *buzz* in your ear. So, we did the best we could to try to eliminate this, and we bought little disposable plates.


They were stored away, and we had to go through, well this, until finally, there was an occasion in which we actually used them. There seemed to be a special occassion for my cousin, and there just happened to be a cake, unto which, was dying to be placed on some cheap, plastic, little plates. So, one the day of her Birthday, we pulled them out. Then she blew out the candles (Oops, sorry, no boyfriend) and we cut the delicate little pieces of chocolate plates. Now, you have to understand this; My mother was walking around saying 'Look, they're little plates for something special...' and every other time we seemed to use them, that simple little phrase came into mind.


Well, we had a nice little gathering, where we used our 'little plates for something special', and that phrase just seem to stick. Then you realize that it's the little things that can serve up something truly special. (Corny, I know.)
-Happy Blogger

Good Things Part 1 Posted by Sad Blogger , 11.8.09 at Tuesday, August 11, 2009, in

This week, I'm introducing an ongoing series including memories and recollections pertaining to the good things that have made me happy throughout my life so far. I encourage you not just to simply read it and smile, but think about it and try to recall your own happy memories.

So often, with seemingly everything in the world weighing down on us, we let it get the better of us and convince ourselves that everything is wrong. When that happens you have to remember the good things. You have to remember things that make your lips curl into a grin just thinking about it, things that make you giggle inside, things that make your chest feel warm.

It's hard to think back and remember your first memories. I don't remember much of anything before I was at least 4. I remember the apricot tree in our backyard that my dad made a rope swing for. The rope was white and blue and I used to pretend that I was an explorer and swing across perilous precipices. Sometimes my dad would play soccer with me in that backyard. He'd kick the ball in the air and it would go soooo high, it would practically disappear! And I'd laugh and laugh and I thought my dad was the strongest person in the world. Sometimes he'd go away on a business trip and we'd say goodbye to him at the airport and I'd be sad so he'd cheer me up with a whisker kiss. At the time he had a pretty thick beard and he'd scratch it against my cheek and I'd feel better. I also loved the playground. My favorite was the one I called "the swirly park" because it had a tall, yellow spiral slide. Sometimes we'd go to the lake as a family and I'd love swimming and pretending I was in the ocean, fighting off sharks. We'd play frisbee on the beach and my mom would cook the best smokies ever.

Keep thinking,

- The Sad Blogger