Birthday
My mom was asking me all day yesterday, "what cake do you want to have for your birthday?" Because usually I'll tell her some odd confection; last year, I asked for a chocolate cream pie. The year before was a cherry pie.
Anyway, I've been consuming way too much sugar lately, so I thought this year's "birthday cake" would not be a cake, or even sugary at all. Well, there's probably a bit of sugar in dough, right? Tomorrow I'm having a pizza pie for my 18th birthday! Cheese, no toppings, like only I like it. My dad's just gonna have to live with whatever the second pizza has on it.
This weekend was fun because my friend visited and we celebrated our birthdays together. She's ten days older than me, and has already gotten a tattoo. Weird, my sister did the same thing when she turned eighteeen. One rite of passage I will not participate in, if only because I am notoriously indecisive.
Anyway, when we took my friend back to her mother so they could drive five more hours back home (long-distance driving sucks, by the way). We mostly listened to the Beatles at a very loud volume, and replaced "Yesterday" with "Scrambled Eggs." Gives a whole new perspective on the song, believe me.
Immediately upon returning from our drop-off, my mom and I went to a wedding shower for my dad's cousin's daughter's second wedding. It was very boring. We sat in chairs and watched the bride and very bored-looking groom open present after present after present... there were very many presents. It was very weird, like a press conference with no questions (except to ask who gave what, every once and a while). I played a fascinating game with the car keys while cursing my mother's evil soul, and her ability to guilt me into doing "family things."
So after finally getting released from Purgatory, my mom insists on helping clean up. Of course. I pulled out my mp3 player and stared at the trees for a while. Weirdly enough, I listened to "Delilah" by the Dresden Dolls, and the very next song was "Sampson" by Regina Spektor. (Also, it just occured to me that Amanda Palmer and ReSpekt are friends as well.)
It's more fun to type than it is to write. My handwriting is inconsistent, depending mostly on mood or how tired I am. Sometimes I write with a left slant, sometimes a right slant, sometimes with no slant. Really small, really large. I'm sure my teachers thought I had multiple personalities.
I barely have one whole personality.
Anyway, I've been consuming way too much sugar lately, so I thought this year's "birthday cake" would not be a cake, or even sugary at all. Well, there's probably a bit of sugar in dough, right? Tomorrow I'm having a pizza pie for my 18th birthday! Cheese, no toppings, like only I like it. My dad's just gonna have to live with whatever the second pizza has on it.
This weekend was fun because my friend visited and we celebrated our birthdays together. She's ten days older than me, and has already gotten a tattoo. Weird, my sister did the same thing when she turned eighteeen. One rite of passage I will not participate in, if only because I am notoriously indecisive.
Anyway, when we took my friend back to her mother so they could drive five more hours back home (long-distance driving sucks, by the way). We mostly listened to the Beatles at a very loud volume, and replaced "Yesterday" with "Scrambled Eggs." Gives a whole new perspective on the song, believe me.
Immediately upon returning from our drop-off, my mom and I went to a wedding shower for my dad's cousin's daughter's second wedding. It was very boring. We sat in chairs and watched the bride and very bored-looking groom open present after present after present... there were very many presents. It was very weird, like a press conference with no questions (except to ask who gave what, every once and a while). I played a fascinating game with the car keys while cursing my mother's evil soul, and her ability to guilt me into doing "family things."
So after finally getting released from Purgatory, my mom insists on helping clean up. Of course. I pulled out my mp3 player and stared at the trees for a while. Weirdly enough, I listened to "Delilah" by the Dresden Dolls, and the very next song was "Sampson" by Regina Spektor. (Also, it just occured to me that Amanda Palmer and ReSpekt are friends as well.)
It's more fun to type than it is to write. My handwriting is inconsistent, depending mostly on mood or how tired I am. Sometimes I write with a left slant, sometimes a right slant, sometimes with no slant. Really small, really large. I'm sure my teachers thought I had multiple personalities.
I barely have one whole personality.