I don't really feel like writing. And I don't have anything interesting to say right now. I feel very quiet and really in the mood for self reflection, and mostly I feel like laying in a big heap in the bedroom in my parent's basement that is packed to the roof full of all my stuff and letting it collapse on top of me covering me whole.
But I'm not doing that. I helped my mom bake and then we had tea and scones and tried to re-create our tea times from England, and did a fair job. They had much better cream to put on your scones, but this was pretty close.
But the main reason I am here is because my dearest and oldest friend and I are locked in what I believe (and this could be completely one sided) our age old contest, of making each other laugh while drinking, in an attempt to make the other spit it out. It is a contest I think she will always win because she is devastatingly funny, and I am so close to a type of moron and if you say "Potato" with the right inflection it sends me into fits of hysterics. But anyways, the point is: I try. Oh boy, do I try. And because she has been just a faithful and vigilant poster, I am trying to follow in her foot steps as close as I can. Mostly, for your utter disappointment, you are going to see a lot of posts like these. Which are not, as I hoped they would be, comments on my human experience, but mainly (and blandly) a collection of words put in some sort of order. Sure, some of it makes sense, but it really isn't saying anything?
You can read her blog here.