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Oooh...sparkly
2003-12-29 at 8:25 p.m.
You know what I really, really love? Sparkling grape juice. It's like, alcohol for minors. Only it tastes better.
I can't decide which I prefer, red or white, but dude. This stuff is awesome. But when I drink it from the bottle, mom gets all upset and says I look like a boozehound. Oh well.
So, mom had a really bad night last night. So did I. It started with upset stomachs. Everybody had them. We think our lunch made us all sick. Joy.
And then, around 11:30-ish, after dad had trudged onto work like the brave, brave man he is (he came back later, I hear. I had gone to bed, like the good, good girl I am), our cat, remember the cute, sweet, wonderfully adorable deaf cat? Yeah. She became a gymnast.
We have an art nook in our front room, wherein mom has placed this small clock, that resembles an ancient 19th century clock of some kind, and it looks rather nice, or it DID. Hanging above the clock, there is a wreath that was placed there for, well, Christmas festivities and such.
Yeah. So. Harmony knows how to jump. And she decided to try a little tire-swinging with the wreath. Only, she could only hang onto the bottom part, and she swung quite fine. She soon realized, however, that she needed a little more room, so using her little legs, she kicked, and swung harder, and kicked the clock right out of her way for maximum swinging capacity. She promptly fell off, and was spooked by the loud bang the clock made when it came into contact with the floor. She was not to be seen afterwards.
But clock parts were. Mom was awake again by this point, and we re-assembled the clock, turned the wreath around, and glared daggers at Harmony until mom went back to bed.
And, I find out today, mom woke up more than once to the lovely sound of Duke the dog and Screamer the cat having lovely, inter-species gay sex right on top of her. And then getting into fights.
Just like a cute little couple! Only not! So, they didn't stop at once. And, uh... it was annoying.
But we have a theory. See, Duke is being emasculated on Friday, so...we think he's just trying to hump everything in sight so that he can feel his life's mission is accomplished. I figure all male dogs' missions are indeed to hump every single thing on the face of the planet, right?
Yeah, so... that was disturbing.
And then Stephanie, for the second night in a row, came home around midnight because she couldn't spend the night at her friend's house. Twice in a row, folks. She had "bad dreams."
And she's trying again tonight. Mom made sure to direct me to open the door for her if she comes back. Because, well, you know me.
I understand the homesickness vibe. But, unlike Stephanie, when I realized I got homesick, I stopped TRYING to spend the night outside the house. Instead, I invited people OVER.
But, then, I don't really want her friends over here to spend the night, so I guess I don't mind getting up to open the door for her when she inevitably comes back.
Oh well.
Don't you hate when you start writing something, then get up to do something else, and come back, and totally forget what you were doing?
Yeah. Me too.
Gah. Me and my sparkling grape juice are done for tonight. Adios muchachas.
<-Ghost->
Listening to: Unwell-Matchbox 20
Eating: Ice Breakers Wintergreen Mints and Welch's Sparkling Grape Juice.
:SOUNDTRACK:
Nerf Herder
Scissor Sisters
John Mayer
Radiohead
Mars Volta
:I
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