Pile of Dead Bodies

So. As promised.

Adventure...

I really have no adventure stories. I am about as interesting as a wet piece of paper. Plain paper. Not that fancy neon stuff.

Raisin cookies that look exactly like chocolate chip cookies are the main reasons I have trust issues.

Yesterday dad brought home cookies with dinner and half were raisin and half were chocolate chip and I picked a raisin and I am just like, "WHY WOULD YOU EVEN BUY RAISIN. WHO EATS THAT."

Kind of a traumatic moment.

Mom just told me that the cabin we're going to for our vacation in two weeks doesn't have wifi. She looked me right in the eye and said, "We're roughing it." Then I started to cry. Because wifi is basically water. My mother is stranding us without WATER FOR FIVE DAYS. 

WATER. FIVE. DAYS.

I won't survive. And you guys won't get blog updates. :(

OH. A few days ago dad and I were talking about something involving peer pressure and be said, "If everyone else jumped off of a bridge would you?" And I replied, completely straight-faced, "Yes, because there would a pile of dead bodies at the bottom to land on." He paused, then said, "What if was an indefinite free fall?" I then said, "It wouldn't matter because I would be falling forever." 

I'm his favorite kid.

Over.

Apology

I haven't blogged. And I feel bad. TONIGHT'S WILL BE EPIC. SUPER EPIC AND ADVENTUROUS. I promise.

Scattered showers

So I got this new iPhone a week ago. Part of me is resigned to the fact that now I'm just another white girl with an iPhone, but oh well. At least I waited! I waited until I graduated high school. Which means absolutely nothing, but anyway.

So I have this device that's 85% glass and 15% metal and took billions of dollars of innovation and the worlds most brilliant minds working for years and years and what am I using it for?

I check the weather at least twice an hour. 

Seriously. The weather is my favorite thing ever. I have 4 weather apps.

I am such a freak.

Also I ripped my jesns at work today. 

I felt so weird.

It was at this awkward place on my inner thigh and I told Dusk and she just whispered, "Slut!" and then laughed and walked away.

(Random story. Weird story.)

Oop. It's time. Gotta check the weather.

Scattered showers predicted.

Over.

Lightning

What do you guys think about lightning? Like, if you were to be struck by lightning, would you be okay with it? People survive it. It'd be a great story to tell at parties. And if you didn't survive, would you be cool with dying that way? I think I would. You know, go out with a bang. Or a flash, as it were. ... I am so not funny.

Tank is afraid of sirens. They've been going off, and he freaks the crap out and starts, like, convulsing until they stop.

Also he peed on me today. Actually, physically on me. Which was gross.

I didn't post anything yesterday and I felt bad. For some reason I feel accountable to you, or something. Like I owe it to you to write about my stupidity at least once a day. Which is probably dumb.

Who first came up with the idea of a blog? Who first said, "oh hey, I would like to post my random thoughts and private journal entries for the whole world to see because OF COURSE they want to know the entire story of how your grandma knit you an ugly sweater for your eighth birthday and it was do awful and oh my gosh, angst angst angst." WHO CAME UP WITH THAT? And now it's like, a career for some people. This is America. People making money off of...blogging.

Over.

Tumor?

My dad talks baby talk to Tank. He's all. "Hey Tanky! Come here my little guy! My little man!" It's funny and a little disconcerting.

I have this issue where I'm running. Into doors and walls. Like I'm coming out of the bathroom that and wham I hit the doorframe. Today I ran into a wall at work. Like a full out wall. Not a corner, not a doorway, a straight out wall. I don't know why. I don't know how. It just happens. It's been happenING. As in plural.

Maybe I have a tumor.

Over.

Why?

Who ever came up with the idea of a blog? And why do you people read mine? I'm a pretty boring person. Like seriously. Painfully boring. Like yanking off a nose strip.

A total stranger approached me at a gas station outside of York and asked to hold Tank, talking in that baby voice that people use with babies and cute animalls. Slightly disconcerting. I'm scared someone is going try to steal him. Also he had his first bath today. IT WAS CERY TRAUMATIC FOR EVERYONE INVOLVED. But then grandma put a towel in the dryer for him and he fell asleep for like five hours. He's such a little wimp.

Over.

The kid's a menace.

Spent the afternoon driving to my grandparents, 4 hours away. We took 2 cars because we're splitting up tomorrow. Sam (my 15 year old little brother) drove on the interstate today for the first time. He wouldn't go above 65 mph. THAT'S TEN UNDER THE LIMIT. SEMIS WERE PASSING HIM. Dad and I were I'm the car following and he was in actual physical pain. He's a speeder (I have inherited the trait). He was like, "this kid is a menace." "I am so embarrassed by this." "Did you see that wheelchair pass him? Oh look, there goes a hover-round."

It was... It was something.

Over.