Monday, May 31, 2010

Untie your mind.

Tunes: The Missing Piece - Forgive Durden
Mood: Slightly upbeat

I love this song. It's beautiful and I can listen to it over and over and over.

"Everything seems to fade
when I see his face,
The sun and stars all dim
every time I look at him"

Youtube it.

I want to draw something. I think I will.

Later, readers.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

My future, imaginary bakery in my mind.

Sometimes, I like to imagine what my bakery will look like when I own one. I know, for one, that this picture (yep, the one RIGHT THERE) will be hanging up.

I guess right now I'm doing this because I wasn't invited to the little birthday party my older sister is having with the rest of the family . . . excluding Mackenzie. Yaaaay. I feel like such a part of the family. Not only have I not seen Mom for days, but I need to talk to her, too.

My sister's turning 19 today and all she's really said to me today is "(whispered) With Stormy*!" and "No, you can't come with, I don't want my car full of people." When I asked if I could accompany her and my little bro Dylan to the park. And, later, "I need keys to Mom's house."

Three sentences. Really? I know it's all about her today, but I still exist, don't I? I mean, really, she's been way up north for college for nine months and mom's mainly been focused on her and the wee ones -- she admitted to that during one of my appointments.

To my Mom, I'm the primary concern . . . and the least of her concerns. I somehow fill both of those spaces (not quite sure how).

I want to go to Narnia. Everyone likes me there.

Or maybe I should just go back to my part time job in the Twilight Zone. Maybe the store keeper will hire me again since I'll be open all summer.

Sunday, May 16, 2010


OK Folks, listen up. I've been in a bad mood due to several stupid things, several of which I didn't talk about in my last post. So I think it's time for a


And here's a bunny, since for some reason, all the rest of the pictures are of otters.

OK. Cute overload achieved.

I've recently been thinking about how most of my baking escapades come from boxes. And I've decided to try and remedy that, and to expand my culinary horizons in addition to that. So, soon . . . maybe even . . . THIS SUMMER (dun dun duuuuhn)! I will be conquering several baking missions.

Petits Fours
Macarons (no misspelling there, people. Google it. Awesome)
Chocolate Ganash
Frosting the perfect cupcake
And many, many more.

Hopefully, I'll remember pictures.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Crash Crash.

Tunes: All I Ask Of You - POTO
Mood: Indescribable yet again (but for vastly different reasons)

The guy I like is pining over his ex.

Maybe all of this has just been in my head.

What else is only inside my head? All of my achievements? Everything I love? Is it all fake?

No. This is all for real. But maybe those stupid 'luff' emotions were irrational -- they probably were.

Irrational . . . but never fake. Who came up with this stupid 'luff' thing anyway?!

Who needs it?

Besides . . . she doesn't want him.

This is best expressed algebraically:

A likes B. B likes C. C does not like B. A hates C with a burning passion in A's heart. And they all live horribly ever after. Story of my life, currently.

A = interesting, independent, and stubborn.
B = smart, cool, and gives very nice comments.
C = cannot be described in words appropriate for this blog. Though I will throw a few out: Ho . . . and I think I might have to make up new words to describe her. Sluttastic, for one (note to readers: I love how my computer counts 'Ho' and 'Slut' as words). If you guys can think of any others . . . tell me. Oh, and some family-friendly adjectives: Inappropriate, loud, rude, naive, horrible, disrespectful.

As I said in my older post about this stuff . . . it turned out to be true. I didn't fall in 'luff,' I crashed. And I narrowly avoided burning. And being ripped to shreds.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Operation Mother's Day: A GO!

So, revamp of Mother's day plan.


Frost Cupcakes (check)
Make sure present/card is in order (check)
Pack (not check)

The plan now is that I'mma spend the night at mom's, because I realized that I'm too lazy and asthmatic to both wake up early AND bike over there. She's not suspecting anything! She thinks me being at her house is the present.

Go to mom's (not check)
Set cellphone alarm for 7:00 (not check)
Sleep (not check)

OP: SUNDAY (morgen)

Wake up!
Get dressed
Secretly make fantabulous breakfast
Wake up the 'rents
Give Mom present
Breakfast (OM NOM NOM).

We all good on the new plan?

OK, I'mma go pack.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Eric and Erik!

I want you guys to meet Eric Northman. He's a viking. And a Vampire. And he can fly. He's pretty bomb. Also, earlier in the season, he looked like Kurt Cobain.

He's Eric, from True Blood. Played by Alexander Skarsgard, who threw Lady Gaga off a balcony in one of her music videos, and was killed in another.

Oh, and he's not to be confused with Erik.

That's Erik. He's Erik, and has no technical last name. He's the phantom of the opera. He lives in a lair (not to be confused with MY lair. Which is the computer room). He's played by a bunch of people -- most of whom are also totally awesome.

Just FYI.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010


TUNES: 'I should tell you' - Rent

. . . why do I get butterflies thinking about this guy? How is it that I can stand singing, talking, in front of hundreds of people, yet I'm still feeling like this? I can't look at a picture of him without feeling like this. I can't make eye contact with a picture of him without feeling butterflies flapping around in there.

And I still don't trust this whole 'luff' thing. I'm suspicious of it's intentions.

Maybe I should just admit it. I don't get it or even understand it because I don't even trust my own two feet. Who am I to trust this stupid stomach feeling that just came waltzing in? I'm a bit frightened. I want to trust desire -- I want to learn.

Well, here we go
Now, we . . .
Oh, no.
I know this something is . . .
Here goes.
Yes, so it's starting to . .
Who knows . . .
Who knows?
Who knows where?
Who goes there?
Who knows?
Here goes . . .
Trusting desire --
Starting to learn,
Walking through fire . . .
Without a burn!
Clinging a shoulder . . .
A leap begins . . .
And older
Asleep on pins!
So here we go . . .
Now we --
Oh, no . . .
I know . . .
Oh, no.
Who knows where?
Who goes there?
Here goes . . .
Here goes . . .
Here goes . . .
Here goes . . .
Here goes . . .
Here goes . . .

Thank you, Rent, for being able to say something when I can't.

Monday, May 3, 2010

Retarded miniventure.

TUNES: Sugar we're goin' down - Fall Out Boy
Mood: Meh : |

Some people who read this blog may know about the retarded adventure that started with my friend Dezzy -- from Rock the Existance -- posted something of FB about wanting to be a Hobbit. Well, that hasn't happened, (but it will -- oh yes, it will) -- but we had a retarded miniventure today!

It all started in Gym, where we were playing tennis. We all decided it was too cold and wanted to go play on the little kid's playground, but knew Mrs. P would yell at us. So Kristen chucked a ball over the fence into the trees by the playground. We pretended to go 'searching' for it when, in reality, we climbed on the playground and went down the slide. Oh, and if anyone asks, we went to Narnia.

A lot of insane things happened in Gym. We started pretending out rackets were lightsabers when Dezzy realized that when you swung them, the made the wooshy noise. And Allyson's misinterpreted "I was waving my lightsaber and it cut my leg off!" which, by Dezzy's ears was actually "My vagina's a lightsaber and it cut my leg off!" Which, in my opinion, is a drastic difference. Then of course there's the fact that I can't hit the ball when it's right in front of me . . . and when I DO hit it, it just drops to the ground. No bounce.

In other awesome news . . . guess who got into the Rum River Art Show? Mackenzie did! Yay!

Oh, and I think I'm starting a new feature. "Things about the girl I hate." They'll probably be at the end of the post . . . because I just thought of it and can't think of where else to fit it into the post.


Sunday, May 2, 2010

*frowny face*

:( I want donuts. I haven't had a good, bakery donut in what seems like forever. I'm seriously considering buying some tomorrow. Like, walking down to the bakery after school and getting some donuts. Om nom.

I think this is a good idea for a food related picdump.
Hehe. Guess who wants a snowcone now?

^^^^Here's the inspiration for my birthday cake.
^^^^^^^^^And here's my birthday cake. It was pretty bomb, peeps. It was blue on the inside, too.

(I'd like to remind people that I regularly use Google for my images, so all but one of those might have a copyright. The other REPO! Cake probably doesn't, but you never know. Also, got that pic from the good peeps over at the repo-opera forums. I think someone made that cake for one of the tour days.)

Also, made my birthday cake myself. I'll probably make mine again this year. What theme shall I use? Hmmm . . .

Interesting . . .

Breaking news here -- well, not really, considering this has been going on for months and I just remembered to blog about it.

My guinea pigs . . . are not as retarded as they look. And they look relatively retarded.

So, a little while back, I looked over at their hut, and noticed that they were chewing on the walls. Once again, they look pretty retarded. Then . . . I noticed that where the teeth marks were. They were at fat guinea pig hip level.

They were gnawing away the walls of their hut to accommodate their fatness.

I couldn't believe it -- and neither could my sister. We were laughing so hard, it was unbelievable!

OH, I forgot.

Mother's day is closing in on us! And for my mom, who's put up with my crap for almost fifteen years, I've decided to actually do something for her this year.

Mother's day has never been a big thing in my family. Don't quite know why -- maybe it has something to do with being a single mom for fourteen years? I dunno. But Steph and I have done various things for mom throughout the years, in grade school, little projects, and when Steph hit high school and I hit fifth grade, we graduated to ordering her tulips (mom's a sucker for Tulips). I've baked her stuff before, but normally, we just say 'Happy Mother's day, Mom,' and go on with our day.

This year, I've decided to do something different, though. And by 'different,' I mean 'actually doing something.'

I've decided I shall make her pink cupcakes, with white frosting, get her a card, and get her some flowers.

There may be something to explain my recent development in 'wanting to do stuff for mom'-ness. Mom and I have had some . . . rocky arguments lately. We tend to make up pretty fast, but I still feel like a bit of a jerk (even though I know it's not my fault.)

Also, as of this year, (and last year, actually, but that doesn't count because there was too much going on) mom is a mother of five instead of her usual two. Mom got married last year, and married herself into an amazing dork with three . . . well, two half time kids and Jordan. Jordan just does whatever. Megan and Dylan he has half (51%) custody of. Meg and Dyl are hard to stand, but I irrevocably love them in some weird way. (I know, it's hard to believe that I have a heart, isn't it?)

But yeah, Mom gets pink cupcakes, a card (probably musical), and quite possibly Tulips. I may or may not sneak into the house and make her breakfast. No, wait, I will. Yeah. I'll ask Terry what time she usually gets up on days off -- and make sure it's her day off.

BREAKING NEWS: Mom's got the day off, and she normally wakes up at about 7:00.

So, plan of action!

Operation: Mothers Day!

Bake Cupcakes, Frost, get tulips if I end up doing that. Set alarm for 6:00. I may or may not get the card before this.
Get up at 6:00, dress, pack everything, leave house at 6:30, bike to Mom's house with necessary components for breakfast extravaganza. Dump bike in yard, go inside, prepare breakfast. Complete breakfast, set table, wake up Mom, Terry, and kids. Eat, displays of love, etc. Happiness ensues! Yay! Theeeen, cupcakes.

Now, what shall be on the breakfast menu?

Pancakes -- Homemade, that is. And pink.
Scrambled Eggs. Probably the normal color.

I'll keep the pancakes in the oven on super low to make sure they stay warm and not crappy until everything's ready.

Terry and the kids'll eat at the table, and I might serve mom breakfast in bed or something. If she doesn't want that, she can come out and eat with us.

I think I'll go check how my bike's working.

Saturday, May 1, 2010


TUNES: Dance Floor Anthem - Good Charlotte
Mood: Impossible to describe (???)

Hey, y'all! You may (or may not) have noticed the new layout!

Now that that's out of the way . . .

I hate to say this, but it's baffling, and I haven't felt like this since I was like, nine. So, I'm pretty confused and awkward about stuff like this, and I feel like a victorian woman on her wedding night. I can't think of words to equate to this feeling. I have heard many a rumor of this feeling, but alas, I've never had this feeling before.

I do not understand this feeling of 'luff.' It's confusing, and I dislike it. It makes my heart all fluttery, and it makes my stomach feel funky. I have witnessed this 'luff' make drooling idiots out of people, drawing poor decisions from them. This makes me think of this 'luff' as a destructive force not to be reckoned with. (or is it 'to be reckoned with?' I cant' remember. AH, IT'S ALREADY KICKING IN! SOMEONE STOP THIS!)

Eh hem. Sorry.

But it's true. I don't understand a stitch of this -- only what I've read. And what I've witnessed. It's so unfortunate to be thrust into something like this unprepared! Why on earth does it happen like that? You'd think it'd be an advantage to have some knowledge beforehand, but where do I get it from? This is all so impractical!

Oh, remember what I said about drooling idiots and bad decisions? I must comment that some people are like that before the whole 'luff' thing happens. One of these people is the girl this boy is dating. I didn't like her before I encountered this weird feeling, and I still don't like her. She's bad news, peeps. I LOATHE YOU, GIRL. HEAR ME? No, you don't because the only thing you use the internet for is Facebook. Besides, you wouldn't be hearing me, you'd be seeing the words on the screen. Either way -- wait, I'm actually surprised you can read. Nevermind. I doubt you'd be able to comprehend the words in this post because they use vowels. And more than two syllables. This is turning into an angry rant, isn't it? Oh well, bring it on! Anger, now THAT'S something I understand. Anger and this 'luff' apparently come from the same section of the brain, though. All the irrational stuff comes from there. Anger, Anxiety, 'luff.'

And with my clumsiness and awkwardness, I'm going to assume that I won't FALL in 'luff' . . .

I'm going to CRASH.