Maple Syrup

I am drinking the last bit out of my cup of vanilla coffee. I swear this stuff is going to take over my life. I hope the box refills itself as long as I never look inside, like a magical wine bottle in a story. I can't remember which story that was though; it could be really embarrassing for me to admit I've read it, but whatever.

I still haven't read Hamlet, and I'm going to have to cut my face off in self punishment. I think I'm totally going to just skip reading Heart of Darkness, study the other books like crazy, and then coast through the exam.

I might make myself a 'Remember-everything-on-this-sheet' sheet. Then I will study while making the sheet, and study as I study the sheet.

That would entail work. And I'm not all that fond of work.

My sister just said, "I look like I just stuck my hand up your butt," while licking melted chocolate off her fingers. Crude little cavegirl.

She has just asked for me to call her a monkeygirl, and then flipped herself upside down, as to possibly imitate a drugged up primate. I think I need to train her how to be a proper human. But I love you anyways! (Cos my sister's just so amazing).

My coffee is gone, and my heart is sad. Oh, little coffee beans of love; please replenish yourself!

Today has also been a good day. Pretty much. I mean, everything was pretty average, but there was a moment or two of total happy feelings, and that makes it an exceptional day.  Of course, there were a few minutes of absolute rage; for example, a second ago, my sister just put my eraser in her mouth, in an attempt to get my attention, possibly. But I'm all hormonal, so I nearly decapitated her with my coffee mug.

The H1N1 flu is my new obsession. I was like "Ew," when they called it the swine flu, and then the renamed it the H1N1 virus, and I get extreme joy correcting ignoramuses when they call it by the wrong name. But now it's called the H1N1 swine flu, so they're not totally wrong.

Stupid press people. Numbers and letters are much more fun to remember than farm animals. They totally wrecked my hobby.

Oh, happy cinco de mayo everyone! Have an enchilada on me!

We're not having mexican food tonight, which is so sad, it's practically a tragedy. I just asked my mother what she's making, but she can't answer, because she's in the middle of singing Oh Canada. Seriously. Singing Oh Canada on a Mexican holiday.... that's upsetting.

We seem to be having a barbeque today, which is weird, because it's raining heavily, and the wind in horrible. Like, tearing trees down type of horrible. But that's okay. I always have lots of fun eating the intercostal muscles of a dead cow, in torrential downpour, surrounded by none other than my stereotypically happy family.

I'm even happy today. I had my vanilla coffee which is basically sunshine in a mug, and my sister bought me a chocolate bar, which I inhaled in 0.3 seconds. 

I think I could easily become a caffeine addict. I mean, my recent happiness started on monday, which seems to coincide with both the creation of this blog, and the discovery of vanilla coffee.

Coincidence? I think not.

Whoops, I accidentally used a cliche... I read a book about cliche's so I could recognize them, and I only use about 10% of them, which made me happy, but I use them all the time, which made me sad.

Everyone is watching hockey, and it seems either we got a penalty, or the other team scored because everyone went "Oh! Oh, oh oh oh! ... Agh!!!!"

And then they all threw their hockey team paraphernalia on the ground in disgust. A shirt, an apron, a towel, a couple hats, and a sweater, just to name a few.

It seems three people have read at least something n this blog. My sister, and two friends. They are quite fab, although I noticed that none of them decided to follow me. It made me want to jump off an internal cliff, to create a simulated emotional suicide. But not really, because that would crush my soul.

Haha. I'm laughing at my own joke, because it's not good.

I have a memory to re-live multiple times, and I should get started. Apparently other human types are coming over to watch the game and eat meat, like all people should have the desire to do. I will comfort myself with caffeine free tea, and the pasta salad that is meant to be a side.

My mom just burned herself, and my dad leaped up like a super hero, and pushed her out of the way, in order to save the whatever that's frying on the stove. I thought he was getting up to help her in her time of intense physical pain, but apparently the whatever is more important.

Ah, Hamlet. I must read thee. And yet, when the contents of my heart are revealed, there is a want of you. The desire to read your tale once more is not exactly there, capiche?

Ha! Saved by the doorbell! The humans are here, and my mother has patted down all stray hairs, my sister has run into the washroom to apply another coat of lip gloss, and my father's voice has deepened possibly two to three octaves.

It seems the party is about to begin. I am going to grab my sombrero, as to show how unconventional I am. No hockey garb for me, no sir!

Except the only sombrero is very small, and probably wont fit on my head. Instead, I'll have to resort to drinking some sort of weird looking juice, so when people ask me what the heck I'm drinking I can look at them mystically over the top of my glass, and speak in an enchantingly slow and distressing voice, saying "Why, it's ___ juice. It helps with the liver problems I'm having.  I drank one too many cases of vodka last weekend."

Then I'll lean in, and whisper conspiratorially, "Plus, it helps with regular bowel movements."