Corbeau.

Spring Break 2011 Highlights:

1. Spartacus.
My dad found a tortoise in the street, while running in our neighborhood.
He was running...not the tortoise.
A common misconception.

It's a little baby - literally fits in the palm of my hand and it's ridiculous how much I already love him.
I just want to hang out with him all day.

I named him Spartacus, cause he's a survivor.
But now I'm thinking about changing it to Marcel, because he lives in a shell.
It's still up in the air.
I'm also assuming it's a he, because he's so small that you can't really be sure yet.

I just feel like we're gonna be best friends.

I'm sure it belongs to someone & escaped from their yard and I should probably try to find it's owner....

But obviously Spartacus wasn't happy where he was!!
We belong together.

Here's a super crappy picture of him!
Ignore the make-shift habitat we assembled...we have since googled the crap out of tortoises and are now experts!

But, if any of you have any tips, they are more than appreciated!



Look how small he is compared to the snow peas! (Which he loves, by the way.)
That little nugget next to him is a piece of a grape...(Which he wasn't as fond of as the peas.)

Here's some more pictures of our adventure in the front yard!





(Also, a frog jumped in our pool on Sunday. Too bad my dad had drained it on Friday. Poor little guy...never saw it comin.')

2. Monops.
I dunno why everyone hates monopoly...but I love it.
Almost as much as Spartacus.
Almost.

Actually, I dunno if I love playing as much as I love cheating.
All I do is embezzle money from the bank...
I don't even bother buying property anymore.

It takes about 2.7 seconds for everyone to discover my cheating ways...but it's always worth it.

3. Mole.
Wanna see something gross?
Google "cancerous moles."
That'll ruin your appetite...

So I went to the dermatologist today...
It sucks having a weirdo mole in an awkward spot on your chest, for the undeniably good-looking doctor to examine.
But whatever.
It had to happen to someone.

So while I'm sitting there in my giant square paper towel robe/vest thing (Really!? What am I, Spongebob Squarepants? Who fits in those things?), telling the doctor about all of my skin ailments...while my seat is simultaneously going back...and all of a sudden...he is standing over me holding a syringe...

I guess somewhere in there, I agreed to allow him to remove the mole on my chest.

And then I started freaking out, "Oh...uhm...yeah...uh...right now?!"
And he tries to pull that doctor crap by having me continue my story while he gives me the shot.
I felt so duped.

I have the worst luck when it comes to doctor's apointments.
When I was little, I was always so afraid of getting shots at my check-ups and my mom always reassured me that I wouldn't.
But somehow...I ALWAYS did.

My doctor, with the world's thickest accent would always just throw innoculations, vaccinations, and every other kind of preventive treatment out there...and my mom ALWAYS agreed.

"Kewwi due fo' shot. *(Unrecognizable Words)* Tetanu' & Hepatitus B numba' 2. *(Definitely not English anymore.)*"

And there I was...several years later...several years older...several years wiser...and I was still tricked into the same shots.
Only this time, they were taking a razor to my skin!

And then it was done.
I never even felt it.

Nothing says being an adult, like your first biopsy.


And that's my Spring Break thus far.


Woo!

I miss my tortoise.