life is recursive at times

and that's nice.

a routine can feel

like a worn blanket

comforting and essential.

but sometimes the blanket wears out

holes appear.

people come in whilst you try to sleep.

they say "fix your blanket; it has holes"

they stick their fingers through the gaps

cold and electric

shocking you awake

and you say "yes, i'll fix the blanket

but let me sleep first"

for you know that sleep-deprived and crabby fingers

create more holes

but the people don't stop

they think because you are asleep that you will forget

but how can you forget

when it is your blanket in the first place

how can you forget 

when you're the one who feels any drafts 

let in by the traitorous apertures

sometimes, it gets hot under the blanket, okay?

sometimes, i need the holes

to let in the breeze of change

they say variety is the spice of life

but you think that the only right spices 

are those that complement your basic flavors

fine

the dish tastes better if the cooks all agree

but the dish tastes better with a chef's personal touch

i said i'll do what needs to be done

i said when i'll do it

i can even tell you how

but please

give me my space and time

don't prod me

for i do my best

when not followed by the sharp ghosts of your words

when clear-headed and free from the sharp metallic screech of your repeated commands

which, the first time sound like a delicate chime

and now sound like a knife against steel

i do my best

when calm and not harried

when not badgered, hounded, chivied, or nagged

when i'm

     not

          this

               annoyed

     Most of us non-recluses can agree that traveling is great. The new sights, smells, and cultures can really put your insignificant problems into perspective (or make you feel worse, if your problems are actually significant), but let's face it; the actual process of traveling is kind of a pain. It is so much of a pain that I have decided to dedicate an entire post to its damnation, as is very apparent if you read the title card. 

     First, let's talk about road trips. Being stuck in a cramped car for hours; yay! Although looking out the windows of the car can be nice, it usually gets boring. The sights are usually limited to highway signs, dusty hills, random stores, or the occasional pretty natural sight. And don't forget the excessive joint pain and the hours holding in your pee until you find a rest stop. But anyway, my main reason for this post was to rant about planes.
     AIRPLANES! Climb aboard and get to your destination on the fastest commercially available method of transport today. enjoy luxuries such as recycled air, freeze-dried noxious-smelling meals, 10 minutes of good window views and hours of horrible ones (if you're in the 20% who actually get a window seat, that is), bathrooms used by many airsick passengers (sick with fun, amirite?), an joint cramps that are literally out of this world. You will be treated as a V.I.P (very irritating passenger, that is) by a sleep-deprived flight crew. Don't forget to take advantage of our half-functional entertainment systems or listen to the sounds of babies crying and people snoring that surround you, all for the low low price of, well, a lot. Call 1-800-TAKE-A-BOAT today!
     Seriously, I hate planes. Whatever, at least they land at one point, and getting out is the best feeling ever.

I can barely type on this weird new keyboard, so I'll stop now.

Let me end the post with one of the sad jokes my friend sent me to distract me from my flight dread.

a: what's the difference between a tuna, a piano, and a pot of glue?
b: IDK
a: you can tuna piano, but you can't piano a tuna
b: LOL. But what about the glue?
a:I knew you'd get stuck there
b: -_-

I got off school yesterday as if it was a horse with an uncomfortably hard saddle that most people couldn't wait to dismount. However, my seat was warm and comfy, and I was good at riding this thing. I'm certainly going to miss seventh grade; it's one of the last easy ponies I will ever get. eighth grade is all about preparing for high school, and the American high school education system, from what I've heard and seen, is substantially responsible for the mass amounts of cortisol in the bloodstreams of adolescents today.

See all those big words? That's "Nandy, it's time for you to grow up and act like an almost-high-schooler" Nandy talking.

Today, being the first day of summer, is also a day of deep reflection and reminiscence. For me, an iconic song (in my mind) is as effective as an iconic smell when it comes to bringing back not just superficial memories, but the feelings that accompany them. I know that last summer, I spent almost every weekday at my taekwondo class preparing for a black belt. At least once a week, my mom and I would get some boba tea after the class, which I'd sip on the way back home. Then, I'd usually go to the pool, chaperoned by my maternal grandparents, who were visiting us at the time. I know that I felt happy and that the water was my favorite place to be (it still is, behind the ocean). However, knowing I was happy is shallow compared to the bliss songs from the period like "Unforgettable" and "I'm the One" can bring. Even if I didn't particularly like these songs when they came out, they are now some of my favorites, just because of how they are like time machines to me. They take me back to the distinctive feeling of the Summer of 2017, a summer of taekwondo targets and blue pools.

This summer, my family and I will be traveling. I'm not going to say when or where (safety) but know that if the uploads are a bit inconsistent (or more frequent because I might be bored), it's because of my iffy computer and/or internet and/or free time access. 

Until my next post, enjoy this longer rant-type post, courtesy of my now cavernous schedule. I am literally doing nothing.

Oh, wait- that's a lie. On Tuesday, my new Fitbit Charge 2 arrived, so let's just say that meeting that 10,000 step goal has been a top priority of mine. I'm surprised to find out that I am not as much of a couch potato I thought I was; it's been really easy to get 10,000 steps a day so far. Hope I didn't just jinx it.

So anyway, I hope you enjoyed this post and my new blog signature, courtesy of the aforementioned cavernous amount of unscheduled, potentially potato-state-inducing amount of empty space I have in my schedule.

  

     *I made that graphic myself - no template or assistance at all! Are you proud of me? No? Ok*

     Hello, Candies. In honor of the end of school, I decided to do a post on a thing that has bugged me this entire year; my roller backpack. Don't get me wrong; I think roller backpacks are useful, especially when your backpack weighs like 25 pounds (11 kg). Still, though, they can be an extreme discomfort in the posterior in the following ways:

1) Puddles are the enemy of roller backpacks. Rolling through them gets everything inside wet, so I hope you enjoy slightly moist pencils and erasers. Also, when it's raining, people with roller backpacks have 2 choices. They can either let the backpack get wet because there's no way you can fit yourself and the backpack under an umbrella or you can wear the backpack on your back and get a hernia from the weight of the wheels. -_-

2) GRAVITY holds the backpack to the ground, but it also punishes you for every slip of your finger. If you happen to walk too close to a doorframe and your backpack catches in it, it will fall over and cause everyone within a 2-meter radius to put on their judgey-judgey hats and give you the side-eye until you stop blocking the doorway. Or sometimes, they won't wait for you, which brings me to my next point...

3) Feet of other people. Inevitably, especially in a crowded school hallway, you will run over someone and/or trip them. Honestly, I stopped caring after the 2nd day of school when this happened because of I apologized to everyone I ran over, I would be about 31.41 minutes late to every class ever. And passing periods are 4 minutes long. It's not that I'm not sorry, but its kind of hard. The least you could do, annoyed victim of foot flattening, is accept my apologetic look and not make a big hairy deal about it to your friends. In addition, maybe try using those marbles stuck inside your face to LOOK FOR MY BACKPACK! It doesn't take a genius. Also, half the time, I run over you because nail could probably outpace you so I cut past and try to get to class. Just sayin'

Thanks for reading my rant and my last post as a 7th grader, because next Friday, IT WILL BE THE SECOND FULL DAY OF SUMMER VACATION!

bye!

Stop Annoying Me; A Letter To Things and People

     Hello, Candies. Today, I was annoyed at things (and people). Therefore, I will call out things that irritate me in general, because that's how you feel better about things. You keep thinking about them *sarcasm*.

Side Note: I didn't post last week because I had a super stressful project that we really should have had 2 weeks to complete, but because it's the end of the year, we only had one.

And I only got a 95%.

Rip-off.


Anyway, on to the post.

1) If you're an eraser, please stop falling off my desk. On a similar note, if you're a binder, notebook, or folder, stop pushing erasers off the desk. Seriously. Mommy loves you, but not enough for you to clear desk estate by pushing your siblings off the treacherous cliff that is the edge of the table.

2) If you're a sick human bean, please cough elsewhere, or at least not into your hands and then proceed to touch my stuff. Need I pull out a device and show you what happens when you expel air from your bacteria (or virus)-colonized nasal passages and lungs? I shouldn't have to, seeing as you probably own some soap and know what it's for. You have also probably been trained in some basic etiquette, I'm assuming, so y u do dis?

3) If you're a hard- or paper-back book (yes, those still exist. Shocking), I implore you to stop closing when I take my hand off of you for one second. I don't know if this happening means that the book's binding is of high quality or if it's a sign of the opposite, but whenever I accidentally move my hand off the pages of a book for half a second, the pages flip and I lose my place. I could bend the book back on itself, but then the pages fall out and that's even worse. Please stop, book publishers.


That's enough discussion on annoyance. I'm tired of my own annoying writing voice, so goodbye.

A Gymnastics Anecdote

Hello, Candies!

On Wednesday last week, I was videochatting with a friend of mine. We were both really into gymnastics back in the day when I wasn't a stiff old woman, so we decided to try some of it old tricks. Needless to say, we sucked. Really bad. It was embarrassing. Anyway, we went about our days until this Wednesday, when we chatted again. Somehow, this friend of mine had managed to regain in a week what took her months to learn the first time and hadn't done in a year or so. I, on the other hand, was... well... a stiff old woman.

It
Was
Embarrassing.

That day, over videochat, she coached me back into a half respectable shape.
The next day, I was sore. And I had CAASPP testing, which is another story entirely.
However, now it's like a competition. By next week, who will come out on top? Who will out-gymnasticate?
Hopefully, the gymnastiqueen will be me.

Wish me luck!

-Nandy

P.S. your can probably deduce from the lack of signature that I forgot to write this post until 10:15 pm when I was about to go to sleep, and that this was all typed in my phone.

*yawn*

Casper Time!

     Hello, humans! It is I, Casper, and I have returned to this site again to update you on the state of affairs when it comes to Nandy the Candy with an impartial and sometimes snarky perspective on things. Let's get started!

     What better to start with than school, the place to which Nandy disappears at an ungodly hour and from which she returns half a day later! She seems to have some sort of testing going on at school which makes her even more tired than usual, but on the whole, things seem okay on that front.

     Next order of business; the house. The tall man left on Sunday and hasn't returned yet, but I'm hopeful that today's the day. I'm not worried, though. Although the house seems more melancholy than before, I know he'll be back. Until then, I'll have to be the man of the house!
     The nice lady seems to be doing well. She still feeds me, so yay!
     Nandy, as previously mentioned, is doing well. Last Sunday, she added another year of experience to her repertoire, but not much really changed. She has, for the last two days, retired to the upstairs about an hour earlier than she had before. As if she didn't sleep enough before! I shouldn't be judging her, though. I mean, I sleep like 2/3 of the day. Speaking of sleep, I just realized it is an hour past the time when Nandy should have gone upstairs. I should probably head up, too.

     Next time I do this, I should probably have Nandy make me a signature. Until then, you'll have to make do with this one.