The Answer, is 42.
I'm talking to Lenore on the internet, and I just found out that she shares the same love of Douglas Adams as I do, and it's delightful, because I never have anyone to talk about the Hitchiker books with.
She said she's dedicating a day for me, called "Marissa day", and we'll eat exotic flavored popcorn. I'm excited for this day, because no one else ever seems to want to spend days eating exotic flavored popcorn with me, celebrating myself. I suppose that's what birthdays are for though. I wonder what will happen this birthday, and if it will be anything like the other holidays I've experienced this school year. Knowing life, probably, yes.
So wow.
I mean... wow.
I haven't written in this thing in what feels like ages. I keep telling myself that I'll write when I have enough to write about, but then I get set to writing, and I forget everything that's happened. So it's sort of the same situation. I think the highlight of my week has been celebrating a very awkward Friday the 13th with Vera and Keith. I saw Narnia with my parents yesterday too. That was cool.
I keep meaning to post up pictures, but I just haven't got the energy right now. It's hard for me, for some reason, even with all my time. Like I should be sleeping right now, but instead I'm writing. So tomorrow I will sleep late and stay up late. A bad cycle to trap myself in.
On the bright side, my brother cleaned our bathroom finally, and I've taken up paddle ball in order to fufill my excercise requirments and make up for not actually leaving the house today. I'm trying to beat my brother's record of 58 paddles.
I got up to 37 so far, and I'll be resuming my paddle practice tomorrow, unless someone can offer up a better waste of my time. I doubt it though. What could possibly be more fun than paddle ball, afterall? I mean, human contact is vastly overrated, as everyone knows. I wish Lenore or Hayley were nearby. I'm looking foreward to a phone call from my sister tomorrow.
That's what people do, when they sit at home all day. They look foreward to the smallest things: taking out the trash, shoveling the snow, talking to other people on the phone, their only contact to the outside world, so that they know it's not all just a dream- that humans really do exist.
Lately I've taken up writing back and forth with a pen pal, but I'm so mentally exhausted I can't possibly write a return letter tonight, and I feel guilty, but a little less obligated.
Wow.
OK. I'm going to bed before it hits 2.
She said she's dedicating a day for me, called "Marissa day", and we'll eat exotic flavored popcorn. I'm excited for this day, because no one else ever seems to want to spend days eating exotic flavored popcorn with me, celebrating myself. I suppose that's what birthdays are for though. I wonder what will happen this birthday, and if it will be anything like the other holidays I've experienced this school year. Knowing life, probably, yes.
So wow.
I mean... wow.
I haven't written in this thing in what feels like ages. I keep telling myself that I'll write when I have enough to write about, but then I get set to writing, and I forget everything that's happened. So it's sort of the same situation. I think the highlight of my week has been celebrating a very awkward Friday the 13th with Vera and Keith. I saw Narnia with my parents yesterday too. That was cool.
I keep meaning to post up pictures, but I just haven't got the energy right now. It's hard for me, for some reason, even with all my time. Like I should be sleeping right now, but instead I'm writing. So tomorrow I will sleep late and stay up late. A bad cycle to trap myself in.
On the bright side, my brother cleaned our bathroom finally, and I've taken up paddle ball in order to fufill my excercise requirments and make up for not actually leaving the house today. I'm trying to beat my brother's record of 58 paddles.
I got up to 37 so far, and I'll be resuming my paddle practice tomorrow, unless someone can offer up a better waste of my time. I doubt it though. What could possibly be more fun than paddle ball, afterall? I mean, human contact is vastly overrated, as everyone knows. I wish Lenore or Hayley were nearby. I'm looking foreward to a phone call from my sister tomorrow.
That's what people do, when they sit at home all day. They look foreward to the smallest things: taking out the trash, shoveling the snow, talking to other people on the phone, their only contact to the outside world, so that they know it's not all just a dream- that humans really do exist.
Lately I've taken up writing back and forth with a pen pal, but I'm so mentally exhausted I can't possibly write a return letter tonight, and I feel guilty, but a little less obligated.
Wow.
OK. I'm going to bed before it hits 2.