All sorts of random

You may think I am crazy. Bloggers and internet personalities run the risk of appearing insane due to the fact that they do not have an editor/publicist sitting next to them saying, "do not push publish!" Instead, people end up loading videos of themselves that feature poor lighting, no make-up, and bad angles (like me). Also, they say and do things that they would never do in front of a live audience. Unless, you know, they were drunk.

But I am not an internet personality. I do not define myself as "blogger." I am Joelle, a real person. I am not trying to emit some sort of persona that I am not. For better or for worse, I really am this way. Scary, right?

Thus, I progress to all sorts of random, un-related thoughts:

5) I'm really glad I have a sister. On Sunday night we watched Tangled at my house, and it was good times. I laughed a ton (probably more than an adult should at an animated movie), and in keeping with the theme of the movie, I practiced my braiding skills on my sister's hair. One of the things that I like about my sister is that we take turns being hilarious and making references to things that occurred when we were seven. It's something that happens when other people aren't around. When she and I are hanging out together, I can bring some incredibly obscure reference up, and she'll know exactly what I'm talking about. We have impeccable memories together. Nobody else gets our jokes, not even the mother who raised us.

9) Last Saturday night I decided to bake some corn bread. I poured the batter into a glass dish, then licked some off my fingers. I made a face because it tasted terrible. I figured, maybe corn bread batter just doesn't taste good until it's baked. So I commenced baking. Twenty-five minutes later, I pull the cornbread from the oven. It has only risen about a centimeter. Might as well be flat bread. I check the box and see that I added all the ingredients that I needed to, and followed all of the directions. All three of them. I taste the bread. It is also terrible. Frustrated, I throw it out, and then wash the mixing bowl, whisk, measuring cup, and pan I used. I tell my sister about my domestic failure. She asks me if the box of mix was old. I told her I didn't think so, but when I got home later I pulled the box from my recycling bag and inspected it. It expired in 2009. This is why I don't invite you over for dinner.

12)  Here is a record of some dialogue
Student: Teacher, are you having a good hair day today?
(I smile, thinking a compliment may be coming. But you never know)
Me: Why? Do you think I'm having a good hair day or a bad hair day?
Student: A bad hair day.
Me: Oh. (Smile disappears but I go on with life. Apparently students notice when I don't brush my hair. Even though I was fully trying to embrace the wavy curliness of it all).
Two hours later, a different students reaches up and plays with my hair.
Kind Student: I like your hair when it's like that, Teacher.
Me: Thanks.