Frustration

TUNES: None

MOOD: Frustrated.

So, this Thanksgiving, I am to make the pies. Three Pumpkin and an Apple. I was going to start making them today, by making two pumpkins and delaying the third pumpkin and apple until tomorrow.

Until my Grandma started having a hissy fit. She was yelling and freaking out over the fact that they wouldn't keep in the fridge, and that they'd turn stale despite the fact that we've kept pies in there for roughly a week with no ill side effects. Despite what we explained to her, she kept yelling and screaming over how people won't want stale pies and how I need to make them on Wednesday. Houston, we have a problem. Making four pies takes a lot of time, and I only have a few hours to do things like bake after school. Not nearly enough time to make four pies considering the baking time of a Pumpkin pie is something like fifty minutes, not including the prep time and the time to make the dough.

I tell her (and here's the clean version. I added a few unladylike words here and there in the actual conversation) that if she wants the freaking pies made on Wednesday, then she can freaking make them!

She says "I WILL THEN." Although she hasn't made a pie for years, and up until this year it's been store bought.

We two have been having some baking disputes. Like just a few weeks ago:

Grandpa and I decided to get rid of some cake mix in the cupboard by baking them. So we decided to make an Angel's Food for Grandma and some triple chocolate for me and him. So I have the Angel's food all mixed up, and I put it in the pan (grandpa had went to the store for something) and was about to put it in the oven when Grandma came in wondering why I was making two cakes. Eventually she got over it, until she saw the oven rack's position.

"Ooh, that's much too low dear."

"It's fine, Grandma."

"Well, I baked cookies there and they came out burnt!"

"Grandma, Angel Food Cake is not a rack of cookies, and it's common sense not to bake cookies that low. They go on the middle shelf --"

While I was talking she had adjusted the rack.

"No! Put it back down! It's supposed to be down there!"

"No it's not! It burns down there, my cookies burnt down there!"

"That's where I ALWAYS put the Angel's Food Cake! It never burns! Just wait 'til Grandma gets home and he'll decide."

*Shutting Oven* "He'll just say I'm right."

*Front Door opens*

*I run over to the stairs* "Grandpa, when making Angel's Food, do you put the rack on the lowest rest or just above that one?"

"The lowest one. It should say that on the box."

"I TOLD you."

"BUT IT WILL BURN, EDDY. MY COOKIES BURNT DOWN THERE--"

"COOKIES DON'T GO ON THE BOTTOM RACK. ANGEL'S FOOD DOES."

"IF YOU WANT IT BURNT THEN FINE. I WON'T BE EATING A PIECE OF IT THOUGH."

Next few days? I didn't touch the cake, Grandpa didn't touch the cake, but the day after next the whole thing was gone, piece by piece. She ate the entire cake, and it didn't burn in the slightest. She just does this sometimes, and it gets very frustrating. Grandma, you haven't baked in years. Trust me. I've been using this kitchen for years, too.

I think she may be thinking that I'm overtaking her place as fancy baker of the house. I kind of am, but she gave it up years ago, and I've just recently felt ready to step up to the pedestal. She needs to realize that this is my third time baking pies, and even then, I usually only do one at a time, let alone two or four! I can't do four!

I'll be spending the rest of the afternoon with Mom. I just can NOT deal with the rest of the day here, with her in that kind of mood.

'Tis Better

TUNES: True Love - Razia's Shadow, Forgive Durden

MOOD: Contemplative.

This post goes out to Dezzy over at Rock The Exist(e)ance. She's going through boy troubles something fierce. Though, as they say,

"'Tis Better to Have Loved and Lost, Than to Not Have Loved at All."

~ Alfred Lord Tennyson

For those not in the know, I fall into the latter category. All of my gal pals have had a boyfriend or at least have some little sparks/chemistry going on with someone. I have nothing.

FOREVER. ALOOONE.

I mean, I have Tim, but he's more like a brother despite what people may think. I mean, a relationship between us just wouldn't work. I mean, think if we had like, a kid. Oh, dude. I just had an idea-thingy:

TIM: It's your turn to change the baby.

MAC: It's YOUR turn to change the freakin baby!

TIM: I'll do it if you can answer me these questions three!

MAC: I'm up for the challenge.

TIM: WHAT . . . is your favorite color?

MAC: Purple.

TIM: WHAT . . . is your favorite soda?

MAC: Root beer.

TIM: WHAT . . . is this? *Points to a large black circle on a screen*

MAC: *Sigh* A Jigglypuff, viewed from above.

TIM: . . . *grumble* Fine, I'll change the baby.

BABY: Goo . . .

MAC: You need to stop making these questions so easy.

TIM: Here's one: WHAT . . . is the square root of a Jigglypuff viewed from above?

MAC: An Igglybuff viewed from the left side.

TIM: . . . You're good.

MAC: DEAL WITH IT.

The end.

This is why a relationship wouldn't work.

TIM: WHY . . . wouldn't a relationship work between us?

MAC: A Jigglypuff viewed from above. That's why.

Besides, I don't want ginger babies. Also, I can more easily imagine myself beating Tim rather than kissing him, unless it was for stage purposes. Then I may be able to work with it.

Though I do not have a sweetheart with winter fast approaching, and with the yearly Formal dance next month (and Knowledge Bowl -- WOOHOO), I do have my eyes on a boy or two. Though I barely see one (the one boy I've mentioned in a million posts before this one) and the other one is quite shy. I mean, at this point, my sister had dated the same guy twice, and was fast approaching her third relationship with a second guy.

Sometimes I get why guys don't seem to like me. I mean, I'm awkward, and I can be loud, and I argue, and I can be annoying.

I need to work on my paper now.

KTHXBAI.

A Little Random

Tunes: The Summer Set

Mood: :|

So, my voice is killing me, but that doesn't stop me from laughing outrageously at stuff on tumblr. Such as Ganondorf getting hugged by Link and Zelda, and two Pokemon having an argument in traffic about who gets to drive. "Dialga, I want to drive. Why don't you let me drive?" "Because you don't have your license." "Well, at least I have arms." "At least I don't look like--"

Let's stop it there. It get's a little awkward from there on out, but it's also really hilarious. I'll post a link for those who want to see it at the end.

Also, I just thought of a line from my imaginary fanfic in my head that I don't really want to write out because I have yet to finish a fanfic.

"You can't just eat a three pound Gummi-Worm and consider it a meal."

"Yes I can. DEAL WITH IT."

Here's the link to the Pokecomic.

That's all, folks!

Halloween, A Good Day, and Hat-A-Palooza!

Tunes: Sleep - Eric Whitacre

Mood: Jubilant

I'm so sorry I missed Halloween! But between Katie's Party and taking Meg and Dyl trick or treating, I had almost no time for a post! So, here's a late one:

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

and, because I am the coolest dude:

HAPPY DAY OF THE DEAD!

So, I actually -- for a change of pace -- had a good day today. A little uneventful, and sometimes, I wanted to yell at people, but an enjoyable day nonetheless. Though, it might have been helped by the fact that, in the middle of band, this guy I know, Alex (not Ben's brother. It's confusing because they sit next to each other and play the same instrument) randomly turned around and said, "Smile, Mac!" So, I did.

I think smiling helps make a day better.

Oh, and also, this day is additionally awesome because of . . .

The fact that I finished my Adventure Time hat! I made a hat like Finn's from Adventure Time with Finn and Jake! Here's a picture of him:

His hat is Algebraic. Am I right or am I right? Or, wait, is it even a hat? I don't think we ever see him without it, so maybe it's his hair or something. In the original little short, it looks more obviously like a hat, but now, it's like an extension of his head.

Whoa, that sounded weird.

So, I made this freaking hat, and this is my second big project on the sewing machine (I'll talk about my first -- and equally awesome one later) so, I took it up to my grandma (who is the owner of the sewing machine I'm using) to show it to her (and I was feeling a little self conscious about it, because the sewing in the back is a little wonky) and she didn't believe that I made it. She says, "Well, I just don't believe you made this! It's such good work and I . . . I just can't believe my little girl made this!" This wasn't her being buttery to me -- if there is criticism to be offered up, she will be the first to dish it out.

Right after that, she put it on.

Adorable. If I'd had my cellphone, I'd have taken a picture, but it was downstairs! OH TEH NOES. But I'll get her in it again, and I'll take a picture. It will be made of cute.

Oh, my first sewing machine project? It was my Halloween costume. I was Link, from Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. It was pretty rad, but I didn't . . . wait, Katie took at least one picture of me. When she uploads it, I'll put it on here ASAP.

I think that just about wraps this post up.

See ya, everyone!

A Problem Shared

Some people say that a problem shared is a problem halved. In some cases this doesn't work, but in others, it works wonders to get a little bit of a load off of your shoulders.

In reality though, it's more like a problem shared is a problem divided. It's probably not half, or even a quarter, but I'm glad to get something like a twentieth of my geometry problem off of my shoulders. And I'll be getting a big ol' chunk of band off of my shoulders with a little help from Lovely Linda, my band director. And probably some Geometry with that, too, because Linda is amazing and will also help me with these tough things.

I'm out.

OH SNAP I TOTALLY FORGOT:

KATIE'S QUOTES OF THE WEEK:

"People must think we're weird, just dancing in the corner!"

"And then the Goblins will be in the background dancing like this: *dances*"

"RADIATION . . *techno sounds* . . RADIATION . . *techno sounds* . ."

Aaaand, here's one from E-Saur, who plays Wall, and who enjoys molesting people at every opportunity possible.

Me: Why don't you ever molest Tim? *points to Tim*

E: Honestly, I just don't like gingers. Not that I have anything against you--

Tim: *Covers self with hoodie and fake sobs* Nobody loves meeeeee!!!!! *Huddles in corner*

*sigh*

I frustrate myself sometimes. Like just a little while ago.

I was trying to catch up on Geometry homework, and . . .

This is hard to put into words. Let's just skip to the part where I'm mad at myself and almost crying. I realized that I'm stuck in an infinite math loop.

I have appointments. I miss class. I don't get notes from said class. I am unable to do any work that has to do with that subject. I fall behind. I have appointments.

Right now is NOT the time for this to be happening. I'm sick, I'm missing school, I have too many medical problems, and I CANNOT be failing. Biology I can handle. Math I can not. This all gives me a headache and makes me just want to have a mental breakdown for five minutes and after that, everything will go back to normal.

That's not going to happen. I don't want to bring Mr. P into my stupid personal problems (even though I have enough of them to share . . .) because I'm afraid he would think differently of me, or -- even worse -- not be able to do anything to work with me about this.

You know that feeling when you're playing a game of chess, and your opponent has your last piece cornered and it finally hits you -- you have no place to go? There is no way out of this situation -- game over. You lose. You know that feeling? Try thinking about how that would feel in real life. It makes you tear up. It makes your head hurt, and your stomach knot, and a feeling of dread comes over you, like a horrible, dense, black cloud above your head, and you're just waiting for the lightning to strike to make things worse.

I don't think I'll be sleeping very well tonight. Not with this weighing on my shoulders, like the sky upon Atlas's.

After how many years of horrible stress, insomnia, and a bunch of other crap, I think it all just crashed into me. It's making me physically nauseous. I don't feel physically up to doing anything. I don't feel like I can even sleep right now.

Why can't I just have a normal day? Where there isn't anything due, and I'm not busy with some deadline or some project, and there's nothing important going on, no emergencies to wake me up in the morning or at night, nothing to worry about, nothing to do at all. No stupid computer to stress over, no lines to memorize, to upcoming medical tests to tense me up, no sickness to hold me back, nothing breaking, nothing going wrong, I just want everything to go perfectly smoothly for ONE DAY.

My sickness seems to be the cause of so much stress, among other things. Right now, I feel a little faint.

I'm a slave to my sickness. I don't want to be. I want to be free from this.

I'm sick of being sick. I want to march (OK, drive. Whatever) to my doctor and ask him to just do whatever on earth would be required to find out what's wrong with me and what will cure me.

I feel like I have no conscious control over what my body feels. No matter what I do, it just does it's own thing.

I just want to crawl into bed and sleep until I'm an adult when I won't have to deal with all this teenage crap.

I'm going to try and get some sleep.

Cakey Confirm (No-serious post)

So, I'm going through Confirmation at my church. It takes two years for us Catholics, but it's really quick for other religions (for some reason). So I've been thinking about who my Saint should be (I'm thinking St Dymphna or St Elizabeth of Hungary -- they're the patrons of mental illness and bakers, respectively) and who should be my sponsor (Mrs. Rossow -- we're tight) and about service hours (I have to do a crap ton of community service. As if I don't do a ton already. Twenty hours or something, but Sue expects me -- and only me -- to do a lot more. I actually have no problem with that). But then, something came along. I saw something, and now I know exactly what the light is at the end of the tunnel (of confirmation, that is). I probably get a cake when I'm done. And what will it look like? That, my friends, is the image I saw. On CakeWrecks.

Behold.

THIS:

Geekyness, cake, Jesus, it just all rolls up into my nerdy Catholicness. Yes. I want this cake for confirmation achievement (or confirmation get, if you prefer).

I thought this would be a good follow up to my serious post. I hope it is.