Humor and Coffee

1E700571-493C-4D98-8792-671E3CE314F5

I tried to come up with something funny to blog about, I swear I did. All my humor has been drained from my life and painted in my world. actually I might be writing a comedic short story, and that’s what’s stealing my humor. Screaming children, yelling, and general mayhem that causes me to crawl back into my mind with a hurry hasn’t bothered me the past few days.

Grant it, I don’t expect this to always be the case, but ya know, enjoy it while it lasts.

Also, the weather has been extremely finicky lately. It was so balmy and happy, but I think it stubbed its toe, so it went down to the 40s again. But I’m not complaining. Stub your toe more often, weather, if it gets us such beautiful variety.

I have been either extremely motivated, staying on track and getting everything done, or just reading all day. It seems to rotate. My brain loves work. It craves work, deadlines, the thrill of almost failing, but if I don’t have the last two, I really like sitting still and reading or doing nothing and just staring at the wall.

Not healthy behavior, staring at a wall, but it’s so interesting to get lost in ones thoughts. Or to just sit there and do nothing.

Coffee has been tasting especially delicious, and I received a box full of new tea flavors for my birthday. That caused quite a few squeals, and I have enjoyed sharing the tea with my mom.

We had the first watermelon of the season and it tasted heavenly. Warm, watery, sweet, and crisp. No hate, but people who can eat soggy, bright red watermelon confuse me. I personally prefer crisp, pink watermelon.

Today, my whole day was lit up by receiving a snailmail letter from a blog reader. So sweet of them to write! ❤

The sky is so blue, it makes me want to just become a part of the sky. I’ve always been bummed that I have brown eyes, since blue is my favorite color. It’s kinda worse in my mind, because my dad and half my siblings have amazing blue eyes, and I got the brown eyed genes. *sighs* But when my eyes look red, I’m not quite so mad any more. XD

Of course, since I have my mom’s eyes, my dad always tells me that he thinks my eyes are the prettiest thing about me. Think he’s a little biased? XD

Banana bread has become a staple in our house, don’t know why.

This post is getting even more boring.

You see, I went to a place where people existed for the first time in two calendar months. (I lost count of weeks.) (Actually, I lost count of everything, lol.) And now I’m kinda like, wow. Insanity has set it. And I’ve lost it all enough to just ramble about nothingness.

So pardon this post.

I’m a bit frazzled.

~~Amie~~

Weird: Amie Anne

A45A4134-DD5A-4971-8F71-816CCD13BA2A_1_201_a

Hi, and welcome back to Amie Anne. Today I am doing something that Enni inspired me to do. I love Wired, seeing celebrates answer questions about themselves is hilarious, because half of the time they have no idea that those questions are even asked.

I, however, am not a celebrity. So I have not been asked to be on Wired, and probably never will. So, for the sake of those poor unfortunate souls who want to do fun things, but can’t because they’re not famous, welcome to Weird!

I’m your host, Amie, and today the lovely Amie Anne will be answering the Google Search suggestions on Amie.

first off, we start with how amie . . .

Screen Shot 2020-05-08 at 6.47.31 PM

How Amie? 

How to you too, folks.

How Amie Harwick died?

Hmm, not sure that this has anything to do with yours truly, or the next one, so we’ll skip it. XD

How emit works?

Well, this is rather simply. You just let out a sound, and you emit it. It’s rather simple to get it to work. My computer keys are emitting right now as I type.

Amie how many years?

That is a question I ask God every day.

Amie how to apply?

I’m glad you asked. I’m assuming you’re wondering how to apply my blog posts. There’s a slightly different strategy for each post, but here’s a simply strategy that should work for most post. Think over what I say, give it at least five minutes of deep thought, ignore all grammar and punctuation mistakes, and do whatever I tell you in my post.

Screen Shot 2020-05-08 at 6.57.03 PM

What Amie?

I agree. What, Amie? I have no idea what I’m doing or saying, so we’re in the same boat.

What Amie means?

Amie means female friend in French, so basically any time you say my name, you’re calling me your friend. 😉

What Amie exam?

The Amie exam is a tough exam that you must take a long time to study for put on by yours truly. It tests your knowledge of history, YouTube, music, writing, and life. If you’re interested in taking this exam, just let me know in the comments below.

What Amie mean in french?

First off, French has a capital F, and second, I just told you up there.

What’s Amie in French?

It’s simply amie. *shrugs*

What Ameil means?

*nerd moment* Ameil is a variation of the name Ameel, which means “God is my kinsmen” in Hebrew.

Screen Shot 2020-05-08 at 7.08.24 PM

When Amie?

When Amie is a wonderful piece, pathetic and full of mournful qualities.

When Amie result will be declared?

You will be told your result on the Amie exam within 48 hours of the time it is submitted.

When did Amie Harwick die?

When she stopped breathing.

When was the Amiens Cathedral built? 

In 1220, in France.

Aimee Spencer Geordie Shore?

*takes off my sunglasses and looks at you* Bless you.

When was Annie released?

Before I give you the answer, we need to take a moment to let out a deep breath. I know, I know, a quick glance at Amie, it might look like Annie. BUT my name is not Annie. Anyway, Annie was released in 1982.

Thank you so much for joining me on Weird, Amie Anne!

No problem, Amie. It was certainly a pleasure.

That’s it for this issue of Weird, tune again some other time to hear another person answer Googles Suggested Searches.

~~Amie~~

We are Complicated

37338AF0-3FE2-4210-85B6-6E9C8BACB87F

I am a collapsing star.

The night sky whirls around me as I fall, creating a unique masterpiece behind me, wishing something would stop my breakneck descent. Wishing someone would understand, that underneath all the fiery gas, there’s an ice cold heart that needs some love.

I am a flickering flame.

One moment alive, one moment strong, the next vanished from sight. Oxygen is needed, but also feared. What if I grow? What if there’s nothing to fuel the fire that is my soul? Will I always warm people, and yet keep them at a distance? Is there no way to subdue my soul? Is it’s always all or nothing?

I am a dripping stalactite.

Moist, cold, dangerous. Any moment able to collapse on someone’s head, always reminding them of my presence by a ceaseless drip, an annoying patter. Hidden from the light of the sun, embracing the darkness and living with others of my kind. Yet, solitary and growing, not letting the silence bother my own song.

I am a slice of mica.

Beautiful to those who take the time to dig through the grime to find me, yet not precious to those who look towards what the world says. Thin, fragile, yet strangely resistant. Reflective, showing the world a screwed picture of itself, hoping that someday it’ll see that it’s opinions aren’t always as they should be.

I am a diving eagle.

Swooping, talons reaching. The water skimming beneath my feet, the prey firmly clamped. Food, freedom, and fresh air growing my feathers and my independence. Selecting my certain friends, but still soaring alone, there is no reason for me to be afraid. I am the the top predator.

I am the mole.

Hiding away from the real world, embracing the grime, worms, and darkness of the world in which I live. Squinting when I reach the sunshine, wondering why anyone would want to live in the harsh light. The dirt is so soft, so cool, it is everything that I am used to. And yet the sun still has a certain, burning charm.

I am the rain drop. 

Falling far and fast, landing softly on the parched earth, allowing myself to be totally soaked up. No longer my own person, no longer free to breathe, too busy trying to help heal your pain. Lost, parched in the process, too moldable, too eager to fill your empty cup.

I am the guard dog.

Sniffing out danger, protecting my people. Hating when they don’t listen to my warnings, hurting when they’re hurt. Silly people, if they just trusted my nose, we’d all be happy. My bark is silent, my bite devastating, don’t push, don’t pull. Stay away, no one will be hurt, no one will feel the strength of my jaws.

I am the whispering wind.

All my problems, too shy to tell those around me, so I’ll just move the leaves, whispering through them. Can you hear the plea between my words? The pain beneath my jokes? Are you soothed by my gentle words? How did I find the words to say to ease your pain if I have not been through the pain myself?

And yet, though I am all those things,

I am still

~~Amie~~