Monday, November 30, 2009

"Life," said Piggy expansively, "is scientific, that's what it is."

Remember when I used to post every day? Or at least every other day?
Those sure were the days.
One reason is that the half-broken laptop (as in, the only thing that worked was Appleworks)(which is mildly ironic because... apple works. It was the only application that worked.) (Ha.) broke completely, so I can't type on it and then transfer to this Internet-capable computer. Another reason is that I don't have the time to blog anyway.
It's not like I really have anything to blog about. Blogging used to be fun, but now it just sort of feels like a responsibility. I feel guilty if I go too long without posting.
And okay, now I have a dentist appointment. *goes to the dentist*
*returns from the dentist*
My teeth felt lovely and refreshed for all of ten minutes. Then I had to eat a salad for dinner, and there are bits of walnut and spinach and feta cheese and dried cranberry stuck in all the little crevices.
I have done almost all of my Christmas shopping, and it's only the first day of December. I also have done almost all of my Christmas-crafting. For my dad, I papier-mached the letters "F-A-M-I-L-Y," then ModPodged family photos onto them and strung them into a thingie to hang on the door or a wall or something. And for my mom, I made bath jellies, a bar of oatmeal soap, and these awesome little things called "bath cookies." To make them, you have to bake them in the oven like real cookies, and they come out looking like cookies, too: but instead of eating them, you drop them in the bath and they dissolve and make the whole bathroom thick with the scent of sweet vanilla.
My mom is actually more of a florals kind of gal. But I love the smell of vanilla. I will be lying on the floor outside the bathroom whenever she uses a bath cookie, nose pressed to the crack beneath the door where it doesn't quite meet the ground. Inhaling.

Today I realized that sometimes people go out of their way to be incomprehensible. It is very inconvenient when I am trying to understand what they mean when they say this or do that. But I guess I can sympathize with those who are too insecure to be their honest selves.

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