Poofy, Floofy, and Sparkly

 "I can't lick my own nose!" This was said with great passion, as if it were some great epiphany, by my roomie as she ambled into the kitchen. I wanted to take a poll of all those who can lick their own noses, but I felt like that might have been a little mean. After all, it was on Tzivie's birfday that she said such a grand statement. Yes, she's now old and wise. They grow up so fast. Sniffle, sniffle.

For her birfday, her sister D. Shparkus surprised her with some cake and balloons, which was just adorable in every way. And her parents got pizza for us all, which was even more adorable. 

So, that was yesterday. Let us rewind to last week. The less said about finals, the better. I have tried in vain to come up with a word to describe these finals. The only word that can slightly do them justice is meannastyterribleimpossibleIhateeverysingleonedotheywantustofail???!!!! Last week was our first one, and tomorrow is our second. After that, it all just goes downhill from there, with Cal-Kill-Us on Monday and three more in close succession. Ewey.

In other news, I got a dress for Malta's wedding. It is the poofiest, floofiest, sparkliest dress I've ever worn. It's pretty awesome. I really have grown up. I went into a dress gemach of my own free will (well, take that statement very lightly, seeing that if I didn't get a dress, I probably would be disinvited to the wedding) and didn't cry, scream, kill anyone or anything, or pretend to faint to get out of there. And I left with the most girly dress that I have ever seen, let alone worn. This is proof, people. I am a girl. 

I overheard a very interesting conservation this week. Two unnamed people were speaking of a summer program. One person said, "Isn't that summer program mixed?" And the other person replied, "It's not just mixed! It's more than two genders!" Ooookay then. That is awkward. 

So, moral of the story: don't listen to other people's conservations unless you want to be scarred for life. 

Our apartment had a visitor this week: Esti from Darchei Bindia. We dated for awhile and had a great time together, but it didn't work out, unfortunately, so she went back to America. Nu, it was nice while it lasted. It was great having a new face around, and she's an awesome person. 

Shabbos was Shloims' shabbas kallah, spent in Qiryat Sefer at her father's house. It was such a lovely Shabbos, full of Torah and lively discussion and singing and games. We played this amazing game called A-Peek-A-Boo, where a bunch of 20-year-old girls turned into 7-year-old boys and ran around the house, screaming like a bunch of banshees and falling all over the place. We also were treated to an amazing rendition of a wedding dance by Shloims' father and brother.

So, Shabbos was beautiful and just what I needed to get through the rest of the week. 

And now, I'm procrastinating again. If there were a final on procrastinating, I would get an A. Maybe I should suggest this new test to the powers that be. 

Anywho, I should probably get back to studying for the final that I have tomorrow and be all mature and responsible and gross stuff like that. I got to go eat some chocolate twizzlers now. And for all of those people who don't like chocolate twizzlers, well just know this, and know this cold: you're wrong. Glad we had this talk. 

Hope you all have a wonderful week. Pray for my soul, and all of my friends here, as well. We can use as many prayers as possible. 

Toodles from Hoodles!