That was my group's rocket, which was supposed to shoot a mile into the air. I spent 3 days of science class working in a group to make that rocket, and I don't think that I will ever forget about that launch. It wasn't really humiliating at all, mostly we were laughing so hard that I nearly dropped my camera, and one of my partners nearly died of laughter. It shows how addicted to the internet I am that my first thought was that it would be a great thing to blog about. I can't help but laugh whenever I watch that video because the whole situation makes no sense. We made it well, but still all have to remember it by is a charred piece of spray-painted cardboard. It turned out that something had gone wrong with the jumper cables, and it wasn't our fault at all, so we got a 95% on the project despite the fact that its flight was worse than that of the Challenger. The best part in the video, I think is that everyone is acting as if it is so dangerous, someone even shouted back up, and then all of the sudden it fails miserably. In a few minutes I will be adding the link to my friend's fail blog where this can also be seen.

Story #1

Writing prompt:  A flight attendant learns that one of the passengers has brought a weapon on board.

I carefully pushed my cart of drinks as I walked down the aisle of the plane. I had worked for months perfecting that walk; steps perfectly placed, eyes forward, the soft drinks staying perfectly still. Behind me, someone cleared their throat.

                “Excuse me, miss.” I turned and saw a young man with clear brown eyes and a knowing smile looking up at me expectantly.

Excuse me.” He repeated “I would like a coca-cola, please.”

“Of course.” I turned back to my cart and picked up a small cup of coke. The moment my meticulously manicured fingers lifted the cup, the plane hit some turbulence. As I stumbled and spilled the coke across my unicform, the cart , and the floor, I silently cursed the high-heels that were part of my uniform.

                Immediately, the young man was standing, hand outstreached, to help me up. As I took the proffered hand, I glanced at the seat he had left. It wasn’t until I was standing up, and my mouth was framing the words:All passengers are required to remain in their seats at this time.” That the realization of what I had seen hit me with the complete horror that everyone must feel when they realize that the person standing next to them has brought a gun on board.

                I froze, trying to think of a way to alert the rest of the staff without being obvious, but it was too late. Either he had seen my expression for what it was, or he recognized that he had an unequaled opportunity. Before I could move, he picked up the gun. He grabbed my are and frog marched me to the front of the fuselage. He held the gun to my head and shouted for silence. A tense silence descended as the passengers realized what was happening.

                I fully expected him to shoo me, but, to my surprise, he had other plans. He started giving a long all-inclusive explanation about why he was doing this; starting with his traumatized childhood, father’s abandonment, and his mother’s favoritism, then culminating in his deep depression, his girlfriend’ unfaithfulness, and his own inability to hold down a job. I was astonished. I felt like I was in a movie or a book where the evil villain gave a long winded monologue explaining their entire plan. Never had it occurred to me that they might actually do so in real life.

                As he spoke, his grip on me loosened. I was aware that he was no so deeply involved in his own problems that he was no longer paying any attention to me. I looked around to see if anyone else had notice our opportunity to do something. I saw that the new girl, Summer, was tip-toeing, inch by inch, up to my captor. One hand was held up to her mouth in a shushing gesture, the other held tightly to a short steel bar. Summer winked down at me, took one last step forward, and prepared to swing. As I dove forward, I heard the dull thwap of metal hitting flesh. The entire plane was save with the only injuries being a bruised arm and a broken heel.

The Writer's Book of Matches

Last time I was at the library, I  saw this eye catching book on the shelf. I pulled it down and started flicking through the pages of writing prompts, which I found were nearly all amazingly odd. For example, " A man in Tokyo looks out of his window to see a cow walking down the street." on page 59, and "It is discovered that the pie in a small-town diner has curative properties."on page 97 are some of my favorites. As I read, I realized that this would be an excellent thing to blog about. I could write one at least once a week and post it here. I'm not promising that they will be good. I'm not even expecting them to be good, but I will post them anyway.

Snow, Spring Break, and More Terrible Experiences with Waiters.

Yesterday it snowed. Again.

My friend Sydney (See here blog here) was in denial. She didn't believe me until she looked out her sliding door and saw it for herself. We were all resentful; you could feel it in the air, the unsaid words of  "How dare it snow in April!". As I was thinking about this I realized something. Every year it snows during spring break and every year everyone acts as if it is some sort of personal insult. Compared with other spring breaks, this one is quite warm, although it has rained almost every day thus far. As a result of that, I am bored to death. I am sitting around, watching the forums for hours at a time, and posting merely out o boredom. If anyone who is  reading this sees that I am online at the forums, please message me because I am going mad.

Since yesterday, I have also gained another story about terrible waiters. My mother saw the post about about waiters and reminded me that she has her own story about a bad waitress, so I will talk about that one. My mother and sister went to dinner at a nice restaurant. They decided what they wanted and gave their orders to the waitress, but after she took their orders, she never came back. They waited  for a while and eventually went and asked where their waitress had gone. Apparently, she had taken their order, and then quit. Has anyone had a worse waitress than that?

Arabic Proverbs

If any of you know about Arabic proverbs or idioms, then you should post them in the comments on my sister's blog. She needs people who know both Arabic and English fluently. If you are learning Arabic, or if you work in translations, then you should definitely check it out.

http://amy-arabicproverbs.blogspot.com/

Life Lesson # 1

      Today I learned an important lesson, so important that I felt the blogger's need to share it with the world.
Life Lesson #1- When carrying a warmed dish to the table, check how hot it is first. Yesterday I microwaved a bowl of pasta,  not particularly disastrous in itself. But, like an idiot, I picked up the dish without testing it first. This was what the floor looked like about ten seconds after I picked it up.  

On reflection it looks like someone was brutally murdered in the kitchen.

     Many thanks to Captain K. for his post about awkward conversations with awkward waiters. It made me think about the waiters here in America. Here, the waiter's and waitresses fall mainly into three categories: the meticulous, smooth waiter who has the entire world memorized, the awkward waiter who asks for you to repeat your order and spills the drinks, and the waiter who knows the names of all the people and will tell you what will go well with your meal.  

     Thanks again to Captain K. I encourage anyone who is reading this to go immediately to his blog. http://egyptiannerdpopcorn.blogspot.com/ 

Awkward moments with waiters

Hey there readers of this awesome blog! I'm Captain K, yes I'm a superhero, get over it. More importantly though, I'm the author of the blog Egyptian Nerd Popcorn                                                       (http://egyptiannerdpopcorn.blogspot.com/ ) . The author of this blog, Zimri, has allowed me the honour of contributing a post to his blog as a guest author.


So my friends and I almost always go to the same restaurant every time we go out. It's become our hangout, kind of like Central Perk with Friends, or McLaren's with How I Met Your Mother. I'm not going to lie to you, having your own hangout has no shortage of perks. There are however, many drawbacks.


For example, when all the waiter know your name, it's really awkward when you don't know theirs. Especially if I want to order the cheque or something, I always feel bad not calling them by their names, why don't they wear name tags! Speaking of cheques, have any of you noticed how every person has their own variation of that hand signal for ordering the cheque. It almost never works anyway, the waiter just ends up coming over and asking you what it is you want.


The other day, I was at that same restaurant. Every time I go, I order the same dish. This time, I really felt like going for a burger, and I was really excited about it too. When it was my time to order, the waiter smiled and went "You'll have the usual of course" and started writing it down in his little notebook thing. I felt too bad to tell him he was wrong, not because I'm really nice or anything, but more because I wanted to avoid the awkwardness of that situation.


Don't get me started on that new waiter they got. It's obviously his first time waiting and he is so incredibly clumsy. He was constantly spilling coke on the table and he even messed up our orders. Speaking of which, I also feel too guilty to agree to take it back when they offer to, after they've messed something up on it. In general, if you add any special request to your order, you have to repeat it at least twice for them to actually have a chance of getting it right.