sweet, sweet vendetta
Blenders are for wusses.
I've been making molasses-applesauce cookie thingies since 5:00. Ewwww. And I SO DID IT WITHOUT A BLENDER. They taste kind of yucky though. I think I might have to start again. Or you could just not eat the molasses cookies at graduation. (HINT)
I also made yummy oat-cakes from a recipe from The Backpacker. They taste good, in a shelf-life-of-forever sort of way. Like you care. Anyway.
It's been a while since my stomach's seized up like that with butterflies. Good? Bad? Indifferent, I think, for now. Oh yeah, it's just that cryptic.
I don't remember why I wanted to come home so badly, and I don't remember why I wanted to write this. Suffer anyway, unfortunates.
oh yes. This is summer.
Scar Tissue - Red Hot Chili Peppers ( I don't care how much you hate them. )
I can smell firecracker dust and see bright colors in the dark, along with a vague happiness that comes with reminiscance. I don't miss her, exactly, anymore. I just miss that time. Firecrackers, falcolns, late, faces stinging from air conditioning, chlorine hair, shoe string potatos, wrestling, koolaid, bad music videos, libraries, lemonade, popcorn, minyards, backs of pickup trucks, loads of blankets and pillows and pasta salad all mixed up. Listing doesn't acheive the effect, I know. There's no way it could. I miss it too much to do it real justice for a while. So I won't try.
This summer, I swear.
I've been making molasses-applesauce cookie thingies since 5:00. Ewwww. And I SO DID IT WITHOUT A BLENDER. They taste kind of yucky though. I think I might have to start again. Or you could just not eat the molasses cookies at graduation. (HINT)
I also made yummy oat-cakes from a recipe from The Backpacker. They taste good, in a shelf-life-of-forever sort of way. Like you care. Anyway.
It's been a while since my stomach's seized up like that with butterflies. Good? Bad? Indifferent, I think, for now. Oh yeah, it's just that cryptic.
I don't remember why I wanted to come home so badly, and I don't remember why I wanted to write this. Suffer anyway, unfortunates.
oh yes. This is summer.
Scar Tissue - Red Hot Chili Peppers ( I don't care how much you hate them. )
I can smell firecracker dust and see bright colors in the dark, along with a vague happiness that comes with reminiscance. I don't miss her, exactly, anymore. I just miss that time. Firecrackers, falcolns, late, faces stinging from air conditioning, chlorine hair, shoe string potatos, wrestling, koolaid, bad music videos, libraries, lemonade, popcorn, minyards, backs of pickup trucks, loads of blankets and pillows and pasta salad all mixed up. Listing doesn't acheive the effect, I know. There's no way it could. I miss it too much to do it real justice for a while. So I won't try.
This summer, I swear.