A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far, away... A brave Jedi was learning the art of lightsaber combat. In her imagination anyway.

I was left home alone. My mom was picking up my sister from school, as usual, leaving me to clean my room.

I hate cleaning my room.

Sure, it was getting pretty messy. To the point where I'd have to dig little paths from my door to my bed, desk, and shelves. (I kid you not, you can only see carpet on the little trails I have carved out through my dump heap.)

After about twenty minutes of procrastination, I decided to suck it up and do it. But not without stomping up the stairs mumbling under my breath.

To those who enter my room, I only have one request:

Do not stray off path, as you willbe consumed by the garbage. Those who choose to leave the path are never heard from again.

Rip Barbie 2014-2014

Yeah. It's that bad. I surveyed the situation. Oh goodness gravy. This would be a task alright.

I started shoveling assorted props into my closet, shoving backdrops under my bed, and I tried my best to not get trapped in a web of cords and chargers. (Ah, videographer woe, m'aright?)

After a good 21 minutes, I dug enough space to get to my Star Wars display area. (NIB Kenner figures, whoop whoop!) I thought "Hey, I'm cleaning aren't I? I might as wellreshelve this stuff."

I only managed to get through my 14" Shaak Ti, and Black Series figures before something.. Caught my eye.

The something I built at DisneyWorld. The item I crafted the day I completed my training and became a true Jedi Knight.

My lightsaber.

It was at that moment that my ADD got the best of me. I wasn't cleaning my room anymore. I wasn't even Lauryn Elizabeth anymore. I was Jedi Knight Lawki Kogra, preparing to cut down a fleet of Imperial officers.

I extended the plastic blade, and hit the switch. The satisfying "bissshoo" of my toy blade igniting gave me such strength.

I then thought to myself "Huh. Maybe I shouldn't go swinging this around in my room... I'll go downstairs!" not my best idea.

Three teddybears, all holding plastic utensils faced me, sitting on the table before me.

They were goin' down.

I started swinging, blocking attacks that didn't exist. Striking down two of the three bears. Until I was defeated, sorta.

I had gotten so caught up in the moment, that I had, eh, started swing wildly. Everything was a blur, adrenaline clouding my vision. Until I heard a foreboding crack.  It wasn't my lightsaber that wrecked anything, like you'd think.

I had turned so rapidly, that my glasses flew off of my face, soared through the air, and landed on the hardwood floor.

The impact of my glasses hitting the hard floor had caused them to crack in half. Right down the bridge of the nose.

You know that stereotypical nerd with the white tape around the nose of the glasses?

That was me for three weeks, until my eye doctor could order me new ones. Walking around the mall with glasses taped together will earn you a lot of weird looks from people.

I guess I might need a little more Jedi training, because I'm not quite a Jedi master yet...