She's 13 osso. Everyone is entitled to some boredom, after all it's bloody raining in California.
Gracie, you couldn't have known Butrflynet's puzzle, as we don't even
use cassettes any longer, well you never used them to begin with.
Here is a riddle for you:
A man wanted to go into the night club. He went up to a guard standing at the front door. "Whats the password?" the guard asked him. The man did not know. He hid behind bushes to figure out. Another man went up to the guard. The guard said twelve. The man said six. He was let in. After that, another man came up. The guard said six, the man said three. He was also let in. The man hiding was feeling satisfied that he knew the answer; he went up to the guard. The guard said ten. The man said five, but he was not let into the night club. What should the man should've said, and why?
I suppose I've heard too many 'I'm booooooorrrrreds' in my time. Maybe I'm afraid of it myself, who knows. As I said, I think of boredom as an impetus to get creative, fool around, do something. Make something with the stuff that's nearby - paper dolls out of scrap paper (I just saw that Fred Astaire & Ginger Rogers video on doing the Continental, there were paper dolls in that), doodle a major doodle, practice drawing anything in front of you, make up a song, think if you had the power what would you change about how something you are near is arranged, would you paint that building another color, learn spanish, whatever. Basically, when I feel bored at all, I play.
Perhaps I'm too insistent that others might want to try that.
I know Gracie is thirteen. When I was thirteen, I lived in an extremely boring situation.. I didn't know anyone in the area at the time, hadn't started high school yet. And even when I did, no one from there lived near me, two bus rides from school. I saw mostly my mother and aunt who usually talked about grocery shopping and doing laundry or about family grudges (yawn). There weren't many books in the house, but there was a set of the Dickens novels and my aunt's store of her deceased husband's western paperback novels. Thus my reading of Zane Grey and some incredibly dull book about Wyatt Earp.. Dickens, now there was a writer. I did things like rearrange my aunt's box of buttons.. taught myself - with mother's beginning instruction - how to type. As time would have it, my play has changed, but the idea is the same.
0 Replies
GracieGirl
1
Sat 26 Nov, 2011 07:48 pm
@Reyn,
Haha! Thanks Reyn! Good to see ya!
I've been okay. This thanksgiving was pretty awesome. It was annoying at first with soo many people in our house (like 20 family members! lol) but it was great.
A man wanted to go into the night club. He went up to a guard standing at the front door. "Whats the password?" the guard asked him. The man did not know. He hid behind bushes to figure out. Another man went up to the guard. The guard said twelve. The man said six. He was let in. After that, another man came up. The guard said six, the man said three. He was also let in. The man hiding was feeling satisfied that he knew the answer; he went up to the guard. The guard said ten. The man said five, but he was not let into the night club. What should the man should've said, and why?
Haha! I've seen this one. He should have said three! It's the number of letters in the number. That's the answer.
Twelve has 6 letters so six is the answer the guard wanted.
Six has 3 letters
And ten has 3 letters. So the answer was 3! Good one!
