Home Alone! Quick, get me an old movie.
You'll have to excuse me if this doesn't make much sense. I'm watching "I Love the '90s Part Deux."
I am also alone. *breaks into chorus of Hallelujah!*
My parents have gone to Florida for the weekend. No, this is no mere trip; it is time for IDEX. What, pray tell, is IDEX? It probably stands for International Doll Expo. Yeah, it's the dolls again. Better still: Mom gets to have lunch with Marie Osmond. But that's not 'til Saturday. Tomorrow: Disney World! My parents have called twice, once this morning as I was literally walking out the door (their flight was just about to leave), and then around 6:30 to say they arrived and are okay. My dad's like, yeah, it's 60, it's gonna be 70 tomorrow, and you'll get more snow! Gee, thanks. Love you too.
Actually, dad was freaking out a little, particularly on Monday, when we were grocery shopping. Am I going to be okay? Will I have enough food? Hello, I've done this before. There was a time from when I was in high school through college when my parents went on business trips for about the same amount of time, and they did this for about seven years in a row (Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Kansas City, St. Louis, New Orleans, Dallas, Atlanta...maybe one more?). I know it's Thursday and therefore garbage day; I've already put it out. I know how to cook for myself. I can keep the house clean. It's all good. You trusted me to do this when I was 17; what makes you think that, at 27, somehow I can't handle this? C'mon, I'm actually supposed to have my *own* place now. Think of me as a free house-sitter.
In other news, I put on Fox last night to watch "That '70s Show." Instead, "American Idol" was on, and I was too busy typing something to change the channel. I've never seen the actual audition shows before, and it made me realize if I ever sung for Simon Cowell, I'd probably get ripped to shreds. I would hope to come away with an, "You're actually not that bad." Not that I'm trying out anytime soon, but I have one more year of eligibility. I love to sing, and part of me would love to be a singer, but I'm so shy about singing in front of people (Laura's car on the way back from Milwaukee notwithstanding :P ). So, anyway, I'm rambling. But it's nice to be home alone because then I can sing at the top of my lungs and only Kirby can hear me...I hope...and he seems to like my singing. :)
I am also alone. *breaks into chorus of Hallelujah!*
My parents have gone to Florida for the weekend. No, this is no mere trip; it is time for IDEX. What, pray tell, is IDEX? It probably stands for International Doll Expo. Yeah, it's the dolls again. Better still: Mom gets to have lunch with Marie Osmond. But that's not 'til Saturday. Tomorrow: Disney World! My parents have called twice, once this morning as I was literally walking out the door (their flight was just about to leave), and then around 6:30 to say they arrived and are okay. My dad's like, yeah, it's 60, it's gonna be 70 tomorrow, and you'll get more snow! Gee, thanks. Love you too.
Actually, dad was freaking out a little, particularly on Monday, when we were grocery shopping. Am I going to be okay? Will I have enough food? Hello, I've done this before. There was a time from when I was in high school through college when my parents went on business trips for about the same amount of time, and they did this for about seven years in a row (Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Kansas City, St. Louis, New Orleans, Dallas, Atlanta...maybe one more?). I know it's Thursday and therefore garbage day; I've already put it out. I know how to cook for myself. I can keep the house clean. It's all good. You trusted me to do this when I was 17; what makes you think that, at 27, somehow I can't handle this? C'mon, I'm actually supposed to have my *own* place now. Think of me as a free house-sitter.
In other news, I put on Fox last night to watch "That '70s Show." Instead, "American Idol" was on, and I was too busy typing something to change the channel. I've never seen the actual audition shows before, and it made me realize if I ever sung for Simon Cowell, I'd probably get ripped to shreds. I would hope to come away with an, "You're actually not that bad." Not that I'm trying out anytime soon, but I have one more year of eligibility. I love to sing, and part of me would love to be a singer, but I'm so shy about singing in front of people (Laura's car on the way back from Milwaukee notwithstanding :P ). So, anyway, I'm rambling. But it's nice to be home alone because then I can sing at the top of my lungs and only Kirby can hear me...I hope...and he seems to like my singing. :)