In a way, I'm a little like a toddler. I'm cute, but you really just want to point and laugh because not only can I speak in nothing but high pitched squeals, but I can't walk without falling down and I'm prone to fits of hysterical crying.
It's been a long week.
On the plus side, the week is over. All of my culminating projects have been handed in, all my work has been caught up, and now I'm in the waiting period before exams start and I really lose my mind. I have until Monday with my remaining brain power. After that, I'm as good as gone.
So, what's a girl to do while she waits for exams to start?
Take a break, much like she did even when she was supposed to be working, of course.
So, I don't mean to brag or anything, but this Monday is a very special day. Special enough to warrant a reaction much this this
So, who's your favorite blogger? Oh, shucks, you make me blush.
Yeah, well, I turn legal age as of Monday. I'm talking, the big 18. And we all know what being legal means.
Finding Jensen Ackles and turning the polygamy dial up to AWESOME, that's what!
Well, that and lottery tickets, because I'm cool like that. Not that I can actually win on scratch tickets, but I still find hope in my cold little heart that I may win 3 dollars one day.
Well, that's not entirely true. You may have noticed on Friday that the world stopped spinning for a while, and there were a couple solar flares that made the apocalypse seem like it was going to arrive at the party. Yeah. It's because I won 25 dollars on a scratch ticket, and the explosion of my joy split the space time continuum. Don't worry, I fixed everything with duct tape. That shizzle fixes everything.
You would think that Mythbusters taught me that valuable lesson, and you would be right.
So, my other point today is Ke$ha. My brain wants to revolt everytime I have to spell a name with a dollar sign in it. It's against everything I've ever known, and it makes my head hurt. Not the point.
So, Ke$ha. She's cute, drunk all the time, and probably has a lot of cavities from brushing her teeth with Jack. But she's harmless right? Her autotuned songs are generic, and her use of glitter would make Edward Cullen ruin his underwear. But she's harmless.
Yeah, until I realized my two little sisters loved her. Then, I wanted to punch Ke$ha in the face, and convince her that she should start singing about higher education goals and saying no to drugs. Because I love my sisters, and I don't want them to grow up brushing their teeth with Jack. I also want to punch Miley Cyrus in the face, because she's a favorite of theirs too, and I don't want them to get the idea in their head that their older sisters will go out in public with them if they try and dress like her.
I didn't notice how protective I was of them until my little sister started singing along to Tik Tok and my head promptly burst into flames.
Obviously their parents are doing an awesome job keeping them from liking guys that look like Mick Jagger and trying to party in the USA, because there's been no sign of that. So, parents of my little sisters (one of which is also a parent of mine), I salute you. If I was legal to drink, I would buy a celebratory bottle of Jack. Alas, all I can offer you is a lottery ticket on Monday. You understand, I hope.
On another note, my tarot reading has been doing well. I've done a few readings for other people, and those have been pretty accurate. As the book suggests, I've also been sleeping with my tarot cards tucked under my bed. It's been pretty awesome. I've just started my tarot diary, which is an undertaking of holy shit proportions.
Basically, you have to write down the meaning for each card in your own words, and any experiences of your own that you can link to the card. I have what we call Carpal Tunnel now. It's pretty pro.
It's starting to become obvious that I have nothing to do on this Saturday night, so I'll stop our little communion here.
I'll be back when exams have really stolen my brain, and we'll have some legal, over 18 fun. I'd put a winking emoticon here, but that seems too sleazy.
Adieu!
Love,
Megan
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