Thursday, May 19, 2011

aerobics, pranks, books, and other things that might kill me

Thomas Edison once said, “All I ask of my body is that it carry around my head.” Well, all I ask of my body is that it learns how to do stupid step aerobics. Have you ever tried step aerobics? Like at a Gold’s Gym class? Don’t judge. I know it sounds old ladyish, but it’s not. It’s kicking my butt. Like if aerobics was some living entity, it would be shoving its size 11 foot right into my butt. But I kind of like it. I’m sore. That’s a good feeling. Like I’m accomplishing something.

Random quote that made me laugh: “I’d give my right arm to be ambidextrous.”

Recently I have been thrown right in the middle of a prank war, and it’s turned into a let’s-torture-Alyson marathon. I know, we’re all really juvenile. I’m not going to explain all the pranks, but last night at about 3 in the morning there was this really loud dinging sound. It gave my heart a little jolt, and I was completely disoriented for a while. My roommate looked under my bed and there was a box that was shaking. We couldn’t get the box open because it was glued shut. Finally we got it open and there was one of those really annoying, old-kind of alarm clocks where you twist some nobs in the back and a little hammer thingy goes back and forth hitting two metal bells. We couldn’t get it to stop because on the back they had super glued things over all of the nobs that would make it shut up. Even when we ripped some of it off we couldn’t get it to stop. So we broke the dinger thingy (I don’t know if it has a name). Apparently, one of my roommates has gone rogue and put the box under my bed yesterday when I wasn’t home. I was so worked up I couldn’t go back to sleep for about an hour. If any of you have any good prank ideas, let me know.

In other news, I finished the book, The Book Thief. I really enjoyed it. It’s about a girl living in Nazi Germany, and it’s told from the perspective of death. As in, Death is the narrator. Doesn’t sound very cheery, I know. Well, that’s because it’s not. But I really loved it, and even though I cried when I read it, I certainly didn’t feel depressed when I put it down. The author is Markus Zusak. I went to a book signing with him not too long ago, and he’s really nice and down to earth. He grew up in Australia, but his parents grew up in Nazi Germany (or maybe they lived in Austria), and then they immigrated to Australia. Even though this is a fiction novel, a lot of the images and stories stem from things his parents witnessed. More than anything, the characters are wonderful. I highly recommend this book.

My new nephew, Eric, and my niece, Noelle, are the loves of my life. I know this doesn’t seem to go along with the title of this post, but it does. I love them so much, I could die. (Quiz – the previous statement is what? A. Cheesy B. Cliché C. True D. All of the above – If you guessed D, then you got it right.) And I have another nephew on the way. Little Michael, if life gives you melons then you may be dyslexic. We’ll love you anyway.