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.

Cuteness

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

CUTE OVERLOAD.

LOOK AT THE CUTENESS! AWWWW

SO ADORABLE! I WANT TO CUDDLE ONE

SAY IT WITH ME: AWWWWW!

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.

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.

Operation Mother's Day: A GO!

So, revamp of Mother's day plan.

PRE-OP: SATURDAY (today!)

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

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY.

Give Mom present

DISPLAYS OF LOVE.

Breakfast (OM NOM NOM).

We all good on the new plan?

OK, I'mma go pack.

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.

*Sigh*

TUNES: 'I should tell you' - Rent

Mood:

. . . 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 . . .

Stinging

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.

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.

HER TATTOO IS UGLY.