I Accidentally Dented My Wall… With a Comb

This week has been a long series of mishaps and general clumsiness. But after I got over the sheer mortification, it’s actually kinda funny.


How I Dented the Wall With a Comb

I was doing my homework this weekend, and a comb was on my desk. Now, this was a rather hefty comb. And I got very annoyed at this comb for being on my desk. (I know, I know. The comb’s only fault was existing. It didn’t deserve its fate.) So, I did the only rational thing and decided to get it out of my sight and into the closet. But… I decided to throw it into the closet instead of calmly walking it to the closet. Cuz, yeah. Maybe I was a bit frustrated. And true, I wasn’t frustrated at the comb. I was angry at my homework, but I couldn’t very well rip up my homework. So I threw the comb at the closet. And I’m not particularly athletic, and I don’t have particularly good aim nor descent hand-eye coordination. So, I completely missed the pile of clothes at the bottom of my closet and instead hit the wall. And I kinda sorta made a dent.


At least it’s not a hole.

How I Nearly Killed a Flute With My Clumsiness

And a few days before that, I was in band class, sitting between the people who sit to my left and right. We will call them Leftie and Rightie for simplicity. So I turned my stand and knocked Leftie’s flute OFF OF HER STAND.

Leftie, unlike me, has very good reflexes and lovely hand-eye coordination, so she somehow, like a SUPERHERO, managed to catch her flute MIDAIR, while I was shouting “ohmygodI’msosorry.”


Five minutes later…

I knocked my stand over and Leftie AGAIN manages to catch it in midair.


Half an hour later…

I knocked my flute into Rightie’s stand and dented it. (The flute, not the stand. Which is unfortunate because I’d rather the stand was the dented one.)

How I Burned a Bunch of Rubber in a Botched Chemistry Lab

In Chemistry, we’ve been doing a lab. Lovely, lovely, lovely lab.

Yesterday we didn’t finish the first trial and today we didn’t finish the second. But that’s not the point.

After heating a crucible, we set said very hot crucible down right next to the rubber tube that feeds the gas into the bunsen burner. And then the rubber melted.


The end.

So. School’s started, and I’m doing homework almost every waking minute.

My schedule:

  • 6 am: Wake up.
  • 6:30 am: Go to school.
  • 2:30 pm: Come home.
  • 3 pm: Start homework.
  • 9 pm: Hopefully finish homework.
  • 10 pm: Go to sleep and start this whole horrid cycle all over again.

So. The blog’s been a bit neglected, unfortunately. I’m hoping that I figure out the secret key to doing homework faster (Do any of you guys know?). In the meantime, my plan is to schedule posts ahead on the weekends (but to do that, I’d need a weekend that’s not packed).

More of Nobody’s Antics

Nobody carried a large vat of corrosive acid and a handful of fine jewelry as he stumbled up the drive to Arachnid’s house. He slipped inside the front door into the foyer and gently set the vat down onto the plush maroon rug that covered the polished gray floor.

He tossed a carved pewter ring into the corrosive acid and smiled as it dissolved into nothing.

Nobody stepped back a step to reach for the delicate gold earrings from the pile of jewelry that he had set on a nearby table, but he tripped on the edge of the rug, disturbing the vat. Some of the liquid inside sloshed over the edge, falling in two perfect puddles on the rug.

Nobody shrieked, thinking about what Arachnid would do to him for ruining her rug. He ran to the garden and plucked a towel from the tree they were growing from and hurried back to the foyer, where he began dabbing the rug, sweat dripping down his nonexistent brow.

A spider crawled up his shoulder and whispered to Nobody, “What if it soaked through the carpet?”

A few moments later, the same thought occurred to Nobody and he peeled back the rug to reveal the bubbling surface of the wood. Nobody shrieked again and he tried to wipe it down, but it did nothing.

To prevent further spillage, Nobody heaved up the lid of the vat to seal the corrosive acid away, but drops of acid from the lid fell to the rug.

Nobody yelped and ran to the garden, where he picked another towel, and ran back to the foyer. He flung back the rug to wipe away some of the bubbling acid, but in the process of doing this, he had knocked over the entire vat onto the rug.

Nobody threw the grand piano and the umbrella stands that were on top of the rug across the room and rolled it up—the rug, not the umbrella stands—before running to the garden once again to once again pick a towel off the tree.

He tried to wipe the acid off the floor, but it didn’t seem to work and instead made it worse and he deemed Arachnid’s ash-gray floors irredeemably destroyed. He started to sweat profusely, convinced that Arachnid would have him assassinated in his sleep.

At that moment, Arachnid breezed through the front door. She took in the state of her foyer and said, her voice dangerously quiet, “Get out.”

Nobody took the remains of his acid and hurried out the door. Arachnid flung the remaining jewelry after him, a diamond ring hitting his head.

She slammed the door and stalked to the library to go read a book.

But, of course, dear nonexistent readers, in case you were worried, Arachnid’s foyer was completely intact, as Nobody had spilled corrosive acid on the wooden floors.