Hockey, Shrapnel, and Plaid

Surprisingly, in GYM we're playing hockey. Unsurprisingly, it's hardcore. My team kicked trash, flat out. You must understand that I am the most uncoordinated freak in the entire universe. Because of which, I was throoughly surprised that I was one of the better players on our team. That should say something. :D As fantastic as my team was, the best player we had was a complete wuss when it came to stick-off time. No kidding! I ended up playing captain and telling people to scoot their sorry arses up to bump. It was.... Interesting.

After getting out of that hell, I made my way into the real world [passing period] and everything seemed like it was completely in slow motion. I suppose my brain was still in it's high energy gear. Consequently, I crashed for the next three hours of school.

Along came lunch, and the amazing salad my mom made me. It was absolutely incredible. [: Sadly, as I was delving deeper into a story it catapulted from my grasp and exploded all over my hair, pants, Spider-Man lunch box, and the floor. I was mortified. Following was an eon of hyperventilating and shock. You know, the cute kind. :D Psh.

Monday the AP history program has the "opportunity" to attend some crappy Frank Church session. Whatever that is. It's pretty much all day listening to refuse about Change, which I'm for, but not 7 hours' worth. To add some spice to life, one of my friends asked me if I had a plaid skirt, in which I responded "Yes, a few flavors. What color were you thinking?" This led to me lending her my collection of plaid skirts. For what purpose? She's dressing up HP style of course. :D Who wouldn't? I'm totally psyched to see her tackle on Monday.

I suppose I should be dragging my pitiful carcass to bed now.... But I did take a nap.... And I am wired.... Maybe I'll go hang with David Foster again. :D Cheers!

New Lithos, Steinbeck, and Theory

As promised, I've been working on more lithos, and boy have they turned out. I won't say that I'm thrilled with not having a nose again, but hey, I guess I'll just have to work on that some more. My gosh. :D I've been dealing with the texture of the layers, and I suppose I'll just let you check them out, instead of me telling you if you like them or not.

When I was finishing reading Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men, I sobbed my way through the death of Lennie. While the diction and syntax was absolutely retched, the plot line was magnificent. Think: an imbecile and a near imbecile packing around the country, looking out for each other. That's classy. Even as George blew Lennie's brain out he did it in the most humane manner possible. The foreshadowing by the death of Candy's dog to me was an major indication of the love George had for Lennie by shooting him himself, instead of letting "a stranger" do it. The guts he showed to make life better for both parties was pretty admirable to me.

Apparently there are 4 people in my theory class that aren't in choir, and 5 people who aren't in band. Four of those people are the same both times. :D I happen to be one of them. Unfortunately, I had no idea the band would be gone all day today. In the case that I would have been informed, I would have had my mom excuse me, and slept in. Sadly, because I didn't, I wasted an entire class period practicing for tonight's lesson, and then the next period reading Frankenstein.

This evening I had the privilege of attending my old Junior High School to watch a Drama production of Austen's Pride and Prejudice, slammed into an hour and a half. While delighting in the charm and prepubescent wit of the cast, the audience was served musical numbers during the scene changes. I have to admit, I would never have the guts to get up and sing in front of a group, but I definitely thrive in the limelight, via piano performance, drama, ect. This being the case, I had no empathy for the errors in pitch. Most were done quite well, but the last one was.... Ghastly. With modulations every half second and octave switches every two, I almost felt justified in laughing. However, being the suave, composed, considerate person that I am, I refrained from an audible raucous, and was later able to contain my antics to the clapping of between scenes. Of course, with my piano teacher [who also happens to have the same idiotic sense of humor that I do] sitting right next to me, listening to the cat scratch wasn't made any easier.

With the hilarity of the evening, we headed back to her place and fawned over David Foster & Friends, particularly our ever favorites Michael Buble, Josh Groban, and Andrea Bocelli. Oh my gosh. :D Can those men sing or what? No kidding. Love them. To the grave. And beyond. If you learn one thing from all of my experiences and preferances, it should be that I'm amazing, love music, and absolutely adore opera and big band.

Anywho... I suppose I'll be off to chill with my homies in my crypt. Cheers. :D

More Soup, Lightbulbs and The Notebook

There are several problems to the oh so delectible but horribly fattening meal of America's preferance, a grilled cheese sammich with tomatoe soup, first being the amount of fat calories and content of the grilled cheese itself. While my mom always made them by slapping some cheese on some bread and buttering an inch on the raw edges then grilling it, I learned to acquire a taste for olive oil mayo hugging the cheese. That only adds more calories, and some intense flavor. According to my sources [more like me struggling to add numbers in my head], the average grilled cheese sandwich on whole weat bread with 2 ounces of [cheddar] cheese is 440 calories, with 20.0 grams of fat. That's not counting the tomatoe soup that usually accompanies it. :]
Second, depending on the flavors of cheese you're using, you have to vary your 'grilling' speed, to accommodate the different melting temps of each cheese. Pulling out a lump of not so melted Mozzarella isn't exactly the nicest delight in life, especially if you've had to oober melt the rest of your sammich to even begin melting the wad of white junk.
Third, guess what I had for dinner?

Last night at about 10:40 p.m. I went into my bathroom and was immediately shocked from the static buildup I'd been working on all day when I turned on the light. Whether of consequence or not, one of the light bulbs blew up. Well.... Not as dramatically as that.... But it was close. I heard a -plinksbk- and BOOM! I had one light in my bathroom. Not exactly ideal. So... I go ask my dad if he knows where any light bulbs are, and was [pleasantly?] surprised when he whipped one out of a bag near his chair. Knowing my dad, it was a huge leap for him, to produce something so rapidly without having to consider it for a fortnight, and then mull it over some more. Naturally, I said "Way to pull that out of the bag Dad!"

Throughout history.... Haha. No really. The class is... not very nice to me. Or any of us really.
But what I'm getting at is my need for a new note book, ironically to take notes in, be they notes from hell. Point in case, I searched all over town for a notebook that fit my great expectations, which were college ruled, plastic spiral binding [so it won't BEND and become DEFORMED!] and have a super amazing cover. While I absolutely loved the Lisa Frank collection at Wallgreens, they were wide ruled. The lack of Spider-Man notebooks at Fred Meyer's AND Wallgreens was appaling, and quite disconcerting. The stupid disproportionate puppy notebooks every where else were not only ugly but WIDE ruled. My quest for the perfect was invariably foiled, and I returned home defeated having purchased the same asinine notebook that I currently have, structurally flawed and everthing. I even chewed out the cashier at the last place I was at! Of course it didn't fix my problem, but it sure was nice to vent at someone I'll never see again. Besides, he'll probably go home and say to his family "I met this crazy chick at work today! She was so distraught that we didn't carry the typical base line notebook with the coolest action hero on ever on it. I can totally see why she was though. I mean, come on. Our selection is pathetic! We have more paint colors than we have notebook flavors! Gee..."

Seeing as I'm pretty much done desteaming, I should go straighten my hair, after I finish Of Mice and Men, copy some more dumb history notes, and continue with my newest song I'm writing. It's pretty much amazing. :D Not. However, it's slightly appealing, and I'm completely psyched my writers' block has been lifted. For now. [: Cheers!

Soup, Libraries and Oz

One of my best friends in the entire world is unable to eat any type of food for breakfast, unless it's specifically breakfast food. I.E. Pancakes, waffles, french toast, ect. Having known such, my apathy for specific meals irks her, beyond most logic. The fact that I had potato soup this morning would have killed her. Then again, if I ever eat at her house it's usually the "wrong meal" food for the time. Whatever that means. One time it was scrounge your own leftovers, I attacked their All-Bran collection like no other. The fact that the box was still 3/4 full should have been an indication of age. After getting half way through and tasting nothing but silt, I asked slyly the age of it, and was shocked to hear that it was around five years old. Of course I shouldn't have been shocked, seeing as she's repulsed by the amazing goodness as much as her family is. Why they had a box of antiquidated All-Bran is because their grandmother brought it over. Surprised? Me too. :D

As I've made my way to my grents' house downtown, I've noticed an extension of the Library! has gone into the shopping center half way between my house and theirs. This wouldn't be so revolutionary, if I hadn't grown up with the Library! original downtown. It's not just a library, it's a Library! :D The exclamation point adds "enthusiasm."

Pertaining to enthusiasm, apparently I don't have a life because I have a blog. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I was under the distinct impression that the objective of a blog was to talk about your life. Or at least rant about it. [: Like how cold it is, why I'm shivering so much, how frustrating it is to always find my glass empty, and so forth.

Apparently there's some correlation between America's Gilded Age and The Wizard of Oz. Seeing so, we were encouraged by our history teacher to find the simile by watching it this weekend. Well.... I'm half way through, and I have to say that it's much better set to Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon, which is how I originally viewed it. I didn't realize that it had it's own soundtrack until a few years ago. :D

This morning I decided that if I ever have cancer I'm going to clip my hair short, and dye it a plethora of colors, starting with blue tinted black. Cheers.

Frankenstein, English and Mute Papes

So.... I'm reading Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. It's pretty great once you actually get to reading it. I'm not so great at paying attention to Gothic novels. Though I love the style, I find it difficult to read for more than about five minutes. I attempted Dracula last year for an English project, and in turn had to make up half of the stuff I presented due to my inability to finish the novel. The interesting part is that I'm reading an annotated copy from my English teacher. It's intense, mainly because I can hear him in my head screaming the words he's underlined, bracketed, or written about. :D It's scary at times.

Speaking of English.... Everything seemed hilarious today. It was... weird.

With ten minutes left of class and an A.D.D. teacher mumbling to himself at his desk "Ten minutes? What are we going to do in ten minutes?", I turned around to my desk buddy and said something to the effect of "Well this is productive...." Of course, in all her hilarity she retorted smartly in a mock-Bevis voice "I don't know what to do with class... I guess I'll just organize these dumb papers...." Apparently, it hit a chord of amusement in my brain, and I cracked up [finally! It's taken me long enough!] laughing hysterically. Over an imitation? Absolutely. :D Yes. I'll admit. There's something wrong with me.

Anywho.... I'm out [supposedly?] to become vexed over my latest [and possibly greatest] composition. Cheers. {:

Greetings, Country Swing and Cheese

One of the funny quarks about human interaction is the response you immediately give to a question or greeting, because in your mind you've already mapped out the conversation. Such goes the exchange of words between a fellow pedestrian and I a few days ago, in the biting cold, while walking opposite directions. By saying "Good morning" I got the response "Fine how are you?" I didn't notice his response until a few pavement squares further, where I stopped and thought about it for a nanosecond so the blood wouldn't freeze in my veins. I suppose most of us don't really think about what we're going to say, other than the typical "Fine how are you?" No comma, beacuse we don't usually leave space for it in our effort to get it out there.

Speaking of effort, in gym we're working on Country Swing Dancing. How exciting is that? Imagine a petite battleship adding an element of Tango and Salsa to Hick dancing. Now imagine that petite battle ship playing the man role, because there's a shortage of guys in the class. Cute, no? Seriously. If I ever end up in a lesbian country bar, I'll know how to lead.

Cheese and corn play a major part in my family: 1. we're all cheesy, and 2. we're all corny. But what happens when there's too much cheese, and too much corn? Then we make Mexican food. :D Blegh. I'm so out of skill right now it's repulsive. In which case, I figure I'll crash early tonight and get some amazing sleeeeeeeeeeeep. Ciao. :D

The Witch Doctor, Shock, and Girl Scouts

My witch doctor absolutely hates me. There's no doubt about it.

I was laying down on the stupid chiropractic bench, and [unwittingly] trusted him when he took my head and cranked it until it snapped. I'm not even kidding! It was awful! It popped six thousand stars! My natural reaction was to scream and go into shock, which for me consists of rapid secession of "tiffs" [more like hisses] for an extended period of time. To add insult to injury, he says to my mom "Wow! That's so cute! Is she a singer?" Apparently my diaphragm's capacity is awe inspiring. Who knew?

My cousin is a Girl Scout. I never cared to be. My aunt [my cousin's mother] is the troop leader. Unfortunately, at a holiday dinner I responded to a question ["Is there anything you can do that you'd like to teach to my Girl Scouts?"] as "Well... I dance interpretively." For those of you who know me, my dancing skills "A spastic piece of kelp" [Compliments of The Little Mermaid III: Ariel's Beginning]. However, she took me quite seriously. Later that evening, she realized that I wasn't exactly being serious. Of course I felt bad for being fake, and to redeem myself in her eyes I said that I was the head designer for my school's newspaper back in junior high. Which I honestly was. In which case, she asked if I would be willing to teach a dealio on news fliers for their troop. I can't exactly say no to people... I feel too guilty. So, several weeks later she came over and debfriefed me as to what would be the proper structure for this meeting, and what the goals were.

Tonight, I went and played teacher for an hour and a half, and it was more fun than I expected. Of course, we didn't get the paper done, but overall it was a good experience.

News flash: YANN TIERSEN IS TOURING THE US NEXT SPRING! :D I am so freaking excited; I just found out and my eyeballs are about to explode!!!! Ciao. :}

Itches, Glitter and Inversions

You know there's something wrong when every cell in your body itches like no other, and won't stop until it's dead.

It's been a weird day.

For starts, my mom came into my room this morning and sat on my bed. Naturally, I was having a nightmare involving an octopus and a beaver. Her sitting by my legs didn't help any, and scared me quite badly.

She was leaving early for choir practice, which left me in charge of getting up all by myself to get ready for church. Blegh. That has to be one of my least favorite things in the world. Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoy glamming up, but not really for church, because there's no point to it. No one notices, which sort of defeats the purpose. Not only that, but I've been experimenting with different makeup flavors, most of which are originally uncommon, meaning not entirely accepted yet.

Glittler plays a huge role in my face's wardrobe. As I was organizing my cosmetic bag, I pretty much went throught the Mary Poppins effect finding glitter tubes and sticks. However, one of my latest and greatest features is using raw glitter and making designs with it. For this reason, I wish glitter either came regular shapes per container, and wasn't hetero irregular and regular. Not only is glitter fabulous, but it's one of the funniest lines in the Jack in the Box commercial- "Starfish!...Glitter....Rain!"

While inversions are completely cold and nasty, they have the most lovely effect on the evening skyline. The usual daylight gray morphs into an electric violet that never quite gets dark. Of course the stars are hidden behind the opaque curtain, but the reflections of the street lamps make the sky glow as though there were stars.

Blah. I'm getting writers' block in blogging now, and not just music it seems. In which case, I'll be done rambling for the time being. Cheers.

Math, Naps and Estrogen

Happily, the dreaded finals of the last two years of my high school 'career' are over, and I feel [almost] completely at ease. Not necessairily that I was able to pass all of them with flying colors or anything, but not having to stress about them for another four months is satisfying. :D Seeing as I wasn't doing well in math, my counselor was gracious [and took] enough [pity] on me to let me rearrange my schedule, so as to drop math second semester [to avoid another awful grade on my transcript] and take the regular class next year. Granted, I'm a year behind in math now, but I figured it was my best solution to this catastrophe.

Speaking of calamities, the entropy finals enable is catastrophic. I.E. The chaotic sleeping schedules of finals week. The school schedule is quite agreeable: two normal days, followed by three days of two classes each, with an 11:40 a.m. release. The only downside is how draining the classes are. As a result, I usually come home incredibly dead, crash for a few hours, then for some reason expect to get to bed on time. Waking up early for the next day doesn't help in the entire pschyle either.

My sister in law's baby shower was today, seeing as she's due the second week of February. Although waking up at 8 'o' clock this morning definitely wasn't the highlight of my day, the whole party atmosphere including 28 women [half of whom seemed to be either pregnant or immediately post-pregnant] was cheerful. Of course, the overall amount of estrogen present was astonishing. I'd venture to say that it was more [per capita] than the midnight premier of Twilight. Shocking, no?

Now that the sky has clouded to a lovely shade of gray and the temperature has dropped fifteen degrees, I suppose I'll drag my sorry carcass out to do some more reading. However... Death by reading is quickly becoming the leading cause of Chrisland. :D Cheers.

Lithos, History and 5000 Degrees

I'm totally going through this superficial teen-age girl phase where I'm attracted to all things shiny, and have an odd fascination with lithos. I became a fan of photo editing awhile back, and have dabbled in it ever since; the litho feature is my favorite.

I couldn't tell you the precise denotation of a litho without looking it up, but from what I gather it's the inversion of light reflected off of an object in a picture; correct me if I'm wrong. The funny part is that you have to add color to shapes you want to show up. In my case if I want my lips to show, I just wear a 'dark' lip color. The same goes for eyes, cheeks, nose, ect. The originals of the photos all look like stage makeup gone horribly wrong. I mean hiedously retched! While I haven't managed to get the lines of my face to show up, I've included a nose, and lips, which helps to make the image look a little more 3D and quite a bit less animated.

At a very disoriented 6:20 this morning, I woke up wondering if a. I had school today, b. what I was going to wear if we did end up having school today, and c. what time school started. After deducing that it was Manwear Wednesday, I got dressed, did my makeup, and discovered an uncomfortable stabbing directly above my left illeum. At first I thought my appendix had burst, but it was the wrong side. Then on my way to school the contents of my stomache seriously threatened to escape. While taking my history final, I managed to retain my breakfast, but almost Turrets'ed my way out of class and directly into the Psych. office. Luckily I avoided that one as well.

When I came home from school I was inexplicably exhausted, to the point that I'm starting to think my Mono. is flaring up again. After playing social with my 'rents, sister and her kids [which I absolutely adore! :D ], I crashed rolled up in several blankets, comforters, sweaters, and courderois, argyle knee socks on. An era later, I wake up groggy and cranky that my room is 5000 degrees, demanding that my brain stop thinking I'm in a cauldron of pahoehoe. After emancipating myself from wads of fluffy fibers and bondage, my head cleared 6.022 x 10-22 of a degree.

Happily, there are only two more days of school this week, and the government decided to grant us with a three day weekend, thanks to Martin Luther [the] King, Jr. How nice of them. Cheers! :D

Hell*Mart, Hoisery, and Dogs

Last night as I was washing my jet black nylons I noticed several gigantic runs in them, runs being snags, tears, rips, whatever you please. The fact remained that there were tons of HOLES! in my nylons that I needed for today! Today, being Dress Up Thursday and COLD outside [as in biting wind that chills you past your bones, into whatever soul you may have, and then some], I considered wearing dress pants, but yesterday was Manwear Wednesday, and I wore dress pants there, so I figured I'd wear a dress. After much persuasion and a bit of whine, I finally convinced my mom to let me go to the store. She was coming with me. Of course. By that time it was 9:30 p.m., much too late for me to be happy about getting up in the morning, because I missed my chance for 10 hours of sleep. Luckily, the roads were clear enough for me to not kill ourselves, and we made great time. Unluckily, the only store still open that had decent [considering] hoisery was Wal*Mart. I suppose I should describe for you my feelings about Wal*Mart.

Words cannot entirely express for you my feelings about Wal*mart. I feel a poem would better do my thoughts justice.

Wal*Mart, you started out right.
But Wal*Mart, you died of fright
Of Chinese cheap stuff and
You took flight.
I don't blame you,
In fact they maimed you.
You make me feel the need to strip
And skinny dip
In a swimming pool of straight leeches.

Wal*Mart, at 10:30 p.m. you're scary,
but not as much as your checker named Lary.
I walked down your aisles, for time and a half,
And found millions of things I wanted to trash.

Your mascara is runny, your jokes aren't funny,
You have limited Ben & Jerry's,
You make me scream UNCLE!!!!

On the way home from school today [NOT on the bus], I had one of the most peculiar conversations I have ever been part of. First it started about how amazing the film edition of The Great Gatsby is, as we've been viewing it in English. Next, it moved into ungly dogs, and so forth from there. Really it was centered about how runny, drippy, and nasty dogs are. Gross! I could never own a big dog. Small dog with no vocal chords...maybe. Big sloppy dog? I don't think so. Anywho, seeing as it's finals week and my teachers have a personal vendetta against my sanity and me, I'm out to watch Superstars of Dance, and THEN write my history notes for tomorrow. :D I'm a good student. I'm just psychologically in need of a break from history. Cheers!

Insomnia, Snow and Accupressure

Seeing as it's 10:13 p.m. and normally not past my bedtime, I'm not surprised that I'm still up, and no less that I'm blogging. While I prefer to be nocturnal, the public school distric and my grade in math speaks otherwise. With an early school schedule, and an even earlier tutoring session, my day begins roughly between 6:00 a.m. and 6:45 a.m. Back in the days when I showered and picked out my outfits in the morning, I was usually late to school, although I was happier to wake up to a sizzling shower. However, as the year progressed I realized that I was later and later to school, and my perfect tardy-streak was screaming at me. So I started picking out my week's outfits on Sunday [yes, I plan ALL of my outfits at least a day in advance], and showering in the evening to allow the maximum number of times I could smack my snooze button. I an NOT a morning person.

Unfortunately, I woke up to six feet of stinking snow on the ground. I was ticked. Not only was today the first day back from break, but there had to be SNOW! There was more snow than there was over break. Go figure. It snowed hand sized flakes all day, and piled up the roads like fluffy blankets of death. So ever since I got home I pulled on my fleece pj's, and slippers, which hasn't made turning on and off the lights the most enjoyable adventure. I figure if we don't get a snow day from school at least one day this week, our school district is being run by blood thirsty dictators that would yell "MARCH!" if they had the choice, and it wasn't associated with the freedom of spring break.

As I was waiting for my weekly dealing of eastern Witch Doctory, I was flaunting my amazing Spiderman backpack, to my seriously jealous Witch Doctor. The thing about chiropractor tables is that the cut out for your face is only about two inches wide, and they really expect you to fit your face through there and breath. Fat chance in the big apple. Sometimes I'm glad I'm not very claustrophibic. Not only that, but I finally got my Barbie notebook back from my Witch Doctor [no, I really don't know his name]. You see, the first time I went he asked for a food journal, so as a joke I wrote it in the girliest notebook I could find, which happened to be a super pink and little girlish Barbie notebook. Immediately when I produced it the next visit he looked at me with the "Are you serious?" look I get from a lot of people. Funny how that works. So really, the only logical explanation for his reaction would be that he was jelaous of my stationary selection, as well as my wallet, back pack, and all of my other character equpitment. That has to be it.

As long as I'm drowning in deNile, I suppose I should drag my sorry carcass off to bed, even at such a tender hour of the night. -Almost tears- Alas, I must bid a fond farewell, until we meet again! P.S. Great eye candy up top, no? Cheers.

Cutco, Finals, and Spring Break

Happily, today has been fanfreakingtastic. Althought it started incredibly early, it's panned out better than most stakers in the 49's.

A few days ago, I decided that I didn't need the top half of my left thumb. Do you even know how important it is? For everything?! Yeah. Try putting on nylons without it. Anywho, so as I was finely chopping raw cabbage for coleslaw, I was going at a healthy speed, and -chink- sliced cleanly a 1/4 inch into my left thumb. As anyone [hopefully] would, I put the knife down, 180ed around to my mom [who was standing behind me], held my thumb up, and through a chorus of "OH MY GOSH!"es managed not to cry. My mom, being the Boy Scot leader that she's been for fifty thousand years, squeezed it shut, grabbed a Band-Aid, and fixed me up. Ten seconds later I was chopping cabbage for coleslaw. Seeing as Cutco knives are designed to chink through bones and such, I think I'm pretty lucky to have my thumb still.

So. Two weeks after we get back from break we have finals. Whoever thought that up obviously wasn't, seeing as it would likely be better to take finals BEFORE holiday break, when we just forget everything. I would gladly start school three weeks earlier in the summer if we could do that, and get out three weeks earlier in the summer after school.

Anywho, there are only ten weeks left until Spring break, but really only 9.5 for me, because I'm only going to two days of school [YAE!] the week before break. Why? Because I'm amazing. No really. Actually, I'm taking leave to go tour colleges and cool stuff like that. I'm completely psyched. :D

FYI: 35 days until my birthday. I feel like a little kid again. Cheers! :]

New Years, Phases and Blue Skies

Tada! I'm back!

Now that it's 2009.... :D

On the 31st of December [2008] I attended a series of church New Year's "bashes." Well.... They certainly weren't bashes, nor were they enjoyable. I suppose now that I can get my license, I should, so I can extricate myself from painful social situations such as those. Really, New Year's parties are just a grizzly reminder of how single you really are, unless you're not, in which case you don't really have to worry. So when the ball drops, it's really more like the bawl drops and you start your new year of being single.

No really. In the past 17 years I've noticed my diet [as in food intake, not 'diet' plan] has trends that appear and then disappear. I like to call them my phases. Yeah. A bit different than the typical "oh, it's just a phase, she'll grow out of it" flavor of phase. I think my weirdest phase was the green Jell-o with pineapple chunks held hostage in it. Even though it's totally repulsive, I crave it at times. The same goes for canned peaches. I've never been partial to the slimy things, except for the weeks straight when that's all I eat. It's one of the strangest phenomenons I've ever encountered.

Weird.

Happily, the three feet of snow that had been sticking since early December had vanished, and has been replaced with bitterly cold blue skies and sunshine. Hopefully the sun will do something more than just shine, and maybe produce a little heat. Cheers.