Happy Halloween!

BWAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!

*Lightning crashes and Thunder booms appropriately*

Good Evening…

And Happy Halloween!

So I spent all of today working on my pumpkin, and Lexy was smart and did it a couple of days ago.

Of course, she did so at a friends house, a carving party, so in my mind it was almost like forcing her to abandon tradition of doing it the day of or day before Halloween πŸ˜€

So here’s a treat and you get to see Lexy’s and mine pumpkins!

The main character girl from Brave! Can you see the intensity? (EDIT: Medusa πŸ˜€ Can still feel intensity, perhaps the feeling of someone trying to turn me to stone…?)

Skyrim character.
With an arrow in the knee.
Yes. I went there.

I almost had a heart attack earlier, when, from the front hall I could hear crunching noises. I looked over and saw Gwynn hunched over, about the area where I had just placed my pumpkin.

NO.

And no, it was him chewing on the stick of the arrow I’d shoved in the knee.

But still. Heart attack. It was a near thing.

Also, my Dad thought up something brilliant.

You know those big boxes of treats to hand out?

Separate each kind of candy into its own box (smarties, Aero, Coffee crisp, kit-kat), and then hand out the least popular first. We’re going by Smarties, Aero, and then kit-kat and coffee crisp.

We just finished Smarties.

Candyyyy……

Happy Halloween

But I’m Orange Too!

So, Lexy left to go to a friend’s house for a pumpkin carving party (pictures later) at about 2:15-2:30, and this is what I’m seeing Gwynn doing.

In both Light…

…And in Darkness, he waits…
For Her return…

(Seriously, he didn’t even twitch when I turned on and off the lights. And sorry about picture quality :D)

I’m sure he wishes he could be there for her, WITH her, right now (RIGHT NOW!!!), but as he would try to eat the pumpkins, he’s been left behind. “But I’m orange too!” He would likely protest. “Why can’t I come too?”

Lexy is probably going to bring him some pumpkin guts for a snack later, but as far as he’s concerned, she’s gone to war and he’s stuck at home awaiting her return.

There will be lots of bouncing and love and kisses when she returns. If I can, I’ll try to capture it on camera.

Looked a bit like I had a Boner…

So, one thing that I’ve noticed bout when Lexy goes on Walks, is that she usually carries a bag with her. One to sling over her shoulder and hold onto a water botle, a fold-up dish, and the poop bags.

The other day when I went for a walk with Gwynn, I decided that it was hot, yes, but we were only going out for a half-hour for now, and another short walk later, so I decided to forgo grabbing a bag and just shove the bags in my pocket.

A few streets from my house, I looked down and noticed that the tube of bags I’d shoved into the pocket of my shorts was looking a bit odd.

A bit like I had a boner…

I’m sure no one thought that I, in my girly short shorts and floral shirt, was a man showing off my junk, but still, in the same way penis jokes have amused me when I was in middle school, I was still amused at the thought.

Makes me wonder if other people would have connected the bulge by my crotch was a roll of poop bags (lavender scented, even) and what else they could have thought it was.

Just thoughts.

Video Vendredi – Of Wolves and Babies

Awesome, I’ve been sticking to this, eh?

Today’s video I found on DeviantArt. The person who made this used paper cut outs and shadows, and I thought this was pretty darn cool πŸ™‚

It’s a play on all those stories about wolves stealing babies… Werewolf or otherwise. I always thought those myths seemed pretty silly. A wolf (or werewolf, whatever) managing to get into your house, steal your baby (rather than eat it right there), keep it alive while carrying it off (A wild animal carrying it by it’s swaddling maybe? And why would they want to keep it alive anyway?) until you have the chance to find the baby missing and hunt the wolf down. You may not find it, and all will be sad. You may find a lone wolf instead, and kill it as it was possibly obviously the one to kill the baby.

Silly.

Real life? A wolf comes in, pisses on your floor, kills your baby, eats a great deal of it, and either you come home and freak out, or wolf goes away and you come home to freak out.

OR: You lost/sold your child, and go out in search (or in ‘search’) of it. Find a wolf and kill it if you can’t find (or ‘find’) the baby that you lost/sold.

Cheerful.

But this short video is cool, with flute music that was used amazingly with shadow birds, the wolf, and other animals.

Hope you all enjoy! Have a happy Friday!

Also, it’s Friday the 13th? For all those superstitious, the reason why this day is supposedly ‘unlucky’ is because it was believed that there used to be 13 months, and witches would do some sort of horrific magic every week of this month. So, the calendar was shortened to only 12 months (solves the problem, doesn’t it? They HAVE to follow this new calendar), but since Friday the 13th came so rarely, it was possible that the witches could do this horrible magic on this day.

Unlucky, that.

Bloody Mary: The weirdest massage ever

I’ve heard of a number of massages, and the weirder ones are usually the ones that sound the most painful.

The idea that people pay to have someone slap them around and thump them to get knots out of their muscles is weird to me, as is the idea of placing hot stones over your joints, but obviously it works, otherwise it wouldn’t be popular.

Acupuncture as a form of massage (or other relief, I don’t know what you would call it) makes me curious even as it makes me shiver.

As a side note, why is it, in cartoons, acupuncturists always seem to have poison needles as well as normal needles? And why must they place the two boxes side by side?

Moving on.

Through reading manga (Lexy, Mom, I’m taking a BREAK from studying, sheesh…) (a yaoi romance HERE if you’re curious, explicit just to warn you) I saw mention of a weird massage.

I thought that Bloody Mary was only a drink, but apparently not.

Someone somewhere decided that it was a good idea to make it into a massage as well. Or a wrap. It involves doing both as far as I understand

Yes, it has vodka involved.

And many tomatoes.

I’m not going to go too much into it, as I am still mostly baffled as to why someone would decide to make this into a massage (though, like acupuncture, I am fascinated and curious and kind of maybe want to try it)

You can read another blog HEREΒ about more details. Apparently it makes your skin really smooth as well, and gets the blood pumping (due to vodka, and you don’t even drink it!)

I just thought it was weird.

I didn’t really think that people used so much food in such ways outside of that one episode from The Weekenders (cartoon I loved watching) where the ever-changing Pizza Place was a spa, and they had Cheese wraps (actually wrap them up) and pepperoni slices to place over their eyes.

Speaking of cheese, For those who have read about my complaints about my Roommates (here here and here), an update. They ate all of my cheese. It was a big block of it. They ate it all.

This is unacceptable.

I just want them to stop eating my stuff... Is that too much to ask for?

So yeah, weird massage/wrap sharing and profound sadness over cheese thieves.

My life.

πŸ˜€

Confessing my Skating Guilt….

So, this past weekend I went with a couple of my friends down to the canal to go skating. It was fun, and brought back memories even as I saw huge changes to what I remember.

We went at night, so there was skating snow everywhere on the ice, and it reminded me fondly of when my parents used to get REALLY angry and concerned for me when I was a child.

See, I had the habit of deciding to sit down and play with the snow. During the busy day-time hours, in the middle of the canal.

I don’t remember this being because I was tired or anything, just that I wanted to try making a snowman or something. Sometimes a snow angel.

Nevermind the blades of horrible child-death that were whooshing around my tiny form.

I was a kid. I was brought there by my parents.

No harm could come to me.

I was invincible. No harm could come from sitting in the middle of this.

The area’s I remember for having booths for hot chocolate and beavertails still had those odd little buildings on the ice, but they now have this even larger building thing for changing into skates and whatnot. They also had a building to rent skates, knee pads and whatever else you may need as a tourist.

When I was little I think I asked just about every year how the buildings managed to stay there when the ice melted.

I had never been there during the not-frozen-over years, and thought that the buildings were maybe stuck to the side of the canal.

Or maybe the canal was frozen over all the time.

Or maybe the buildings had huuuuge basement parts that went down to the bottom of the canal, so that the buildings weren’t floating on the canal, they were sicking out of it.

I don’t think I ever believed my parents when they said that they brought the buildings onto the ice, they didn’t stay there year-round.

Now, of course, I know that they use some sort of Ottawarrian ice magic to put the buildings on the ice as soon as they have forced the ice to be thick enough to support them.

But when I went with my friends, it was about 8:30pm or so, and so significantly less busy.

It was darker than this, but about as busy

Meghan, a native Ottawarrior, I thought she would be closer to my level skating-wize, as she had the opportunity to go skating on the canal every day should she want to. It didn’t matter that she’s from Kanata. Turns out that she’s more of a rusty skater than anything, and I”m fine with that. A lot of my friends are at this stage in Toronto, and so I’m used to skating around them and working with their pace to do huge loops around them to be able to go as quickly as I want, get as much exercise as I want, and still be able to keep up a conversation.

Eleanor, I admit that until this past winter break I thought she would be at the same level as Meghan is actually at. This past winter break she got a job to teach children how to skate. When we went skating, I saw that she doesn’t look as comfortable skating as I thought she would, but she’s good at skating. She definitely doesn’t look as comfortable skating as I do.

I’m going to pause on that here, and mention for the sake of people who don’t know me that I have been playing hockey since I was 5. Lets round that up to 6 though, because I was signed up for playing hockey when I didn’t know how to skate.

Then, up until I was about 10 or 11 I did skating lessons, and Hockey Skills classes where they taught me how to skate better than all the other kids my age group, and do it while having a stick in my hand and doing my best to carry a puck, aim, keep it away from all the boys in the class (I was pretty much the only girl, but that was no difference to the fact that I was on a boys team), and NOT fall down.

I still fell down a lot, but I had Hockey equipment on.

My mom, confidence boosting as she is, has mentioned numerous times that she can’t believe how ‘graceful’ on the ice I am. I’m fine with that. I take it to mean that she can’t believe how awesome on the ice I am.

I’m not being overconfident. I know that there are people out there who are better at skating, who are better at playing hockey than me. Hell, I still have problems raising the puck when playing (shooting the puck so that it lifts off the ice).

But it’s not arrogance to say that I’m a more than decent player, or more than decent at skating.

Meghan can skate. Eleanor is a decent skater.

Melissa, the other friend who was with us when skating, is not a good skater.

She does that shuffle down the ice, looking stiff and uncomfortable as she stares at the toes of her skates and hopes she doesn’t fall down.

I really don’t like skating with her.

I really like her, she’s a great friend, has a great sense of humour, and I feel really bad about thinking this, but I really don’t ever want to go skating with her.

Again, I mean.

I’m a horrible person.

She hasn’t gone skating for like 3 years, and after skating with her for 30 minutes I’m thinking she sucks and I don’t want to skate with her.

I’m thinking that she needs to get a chair to help her skate.

I’m thinking that I really don’t want to ever go skating with her again.

I suck.

GUILT!

I feel like I wouldn’t have thought these things if she hadn’t been as bad a skater as she was, and made it seem like we should have at least one of us skating right next to her.

I feel like she wasn’t having fun at all either.

I also feel like if I hadn’t been as enthusiastic about skating as I was, she would have felt better about saying that she didn’t want to skate anymore.

I SUCK!

What kind of friend thinks this stuff up and then posts it on a blog???

I just needed to mention it to SOMEONE, and I didn’t want to mention it to a friend 😦

I love skating, but I don’t like skating alone if I can help it…

BAH!

Now the internet can see my guilt, and point its gigantic finger at my shame. I feel a bit better after three days, but still…

Happy Hermit Day!

Happy Hermit day everyone!

I figured that with the number of posts that are wishing you a happy Christmas, I would wait until the end of the day AFTER good ol’ Xmas to say Happy Hermit day!

Let this be a lesson to all who thought it would be a great idea to go to the mall today, that some people and families, like Lexy and mine, know that today is not actually the day to go out and try to get a deal.

Today is a great day to hang out with the family (AT HOME) and bask in the no-need-to-buy-more glow, and stay in your hovelΒ cave hole home and embrace the hermit like tendencies that you usually bury in order to be social with friends.

To students, this is that same tendency that pops up around exam time that tells you to stay in and study and maybe spend some time huddled in your closet to hide from your textbooks.

To everyone else, please note that if you MUST go out and shop so soon after the Xmas holidays, the deals stay up for a while longer after today. They aren’t AS great, but you won’t get elbowed in the face, you won’t feel claustrophobic in the wide open expanse of the mall, and the employees at the store you’re at will be in a much better mood… most haven’t worked the day before, so they feel really lucky to miss the rush.

This is just a message.

I would have posted this earlier in the day, but I don’t think the people who need to read this would have read it in time anyway.

To all, Happy holidays and Happy Hermit Day!

Not this kind of hermit... though some may still feel a bit crabby πŸ˜€

Insanity Strikes! Passively… Why am I doing this?

Insanity tries to influence your life in many ways, and most times what Insanity suggests you do you will NOT do because you know, logically, that it’ll get you in trouble. Or it’s weird. Or it’ll be embarrassing and beyond how weird you’re willing to be.

Especially in public.

The crazy ideas will make you smile, either as you are thinking it or as you think on it later, but you will recognize it as a crazy idea or thought. Insanity will be barking out these ideas, spewing them like a unicorn spews rainbows to tap dance upon, pantomiming them in your daydreams until that muscle in your face that you never consciously use starts twitching. Then Insanity will point out that you actually developed an eye twitch, and you may or may not follow the suggestion to tell your friend excitedly that that ACTUALLY happened.

It is in this way that we can join forces with Sanity to keep out of jail or a padded room.

But it is when Insanity suggests things in a more passive way is where you have to watch out.

Do you know what I mean? That passive idea from Insanity that isn’t so hard that you have to go out of your way to do, or is private enough that you don’t see why you don’t NOT have to do it.

Take my morning for example.

I’m getting ready to leave for home for the Christmas break, have another 2.5 hours until I have to leave to have a LOT of time to wait at the train station… And this is after having a shower and finishing pacing and making sure that anything spoil-able in the apartment doesn’t have the chance to go off…

So I rolled out of bed and texted my Mom to not call to make sure I’m up (something that we established last night), gathered up all of the things I need to take a shower and went to the bathroom.

As a side note, I had to gather up everything because after the beginning probation period I set, my bathroom co-user has failed phenomenally in displaying the right amount of sanitary sense. He leaves thousands of tiny little nasty hairs on the floor of the shower, is gross with the soap bar at the sink and suds up a ring around the entire sink and on the floor… and he also, for some reason, hides the shower spray and the toilet bowl cleaner behind the toilet. I’m not leaving any of my soaps, shampoos/conditioner/body wash or towels or bath mat (for the shower) within easy access.

But I had my shower, cleaned myself up, dried myself off, and was going to put back on my pj’s… why? Because I was too lazy to grab clothing, and my pj’s were clean enough.

But apparently not, because after finishing putting on my pajama pants, I was about to put back on the shirt I had decided on as a pajama top when I decided to give the sniff test.

The sniff test, for those who are denying that they do it, is the test to see if your shirt actually smells that bad. For me at least, the sniff test has three levels.

One is that I’m checking if it’s something I’ve already washed but forgot.

Two is checking if that shirt I’ve already worn is fit to be worn again.

Three is to see if it is something I’m fine sleeping in. I don’t have any designated sleeping shirt except for the few shirts I have that are hole filled and kind of grungy shirts that I keep hold of for sentimental reasons. Like my SkyDome t-shirt. It will never really be the Rogers Centre in my mind. Never.

But the shirt I had slept in last night no longer passed the third sniff test, and so I folded it up in my bath mat with my soaps and whatnot, wrapped my towel around my torso, and made the short walk back to my room.

Here is where Insanity suggests, passively, disinterestedly, offhandedly, in such a way that it seems totally logical… the idea that has me writing this up now.

“Why do you have to put a shirt on now?”

Well, I don’t.

Not really…

And by NOT putting on a shirt it means I can procrastinate putting together an outfit for a while.

If I put on a shirt now, it mean I have to decide on an outfit so that I don’t have to change shirts later if I really want to wear different pants.

And it’s not like it’s cold…

When Insanity gets logical like this, you know it’s channeling your procrastinating mindset, and it’s enough to get Sanity to agree… even if reluctantly.

So here I am, writing this up while I’m in the mindset, while I have no shirt on (because I know that some reading this are wondering), listening to tunes on Grooveshark, and wondering what Lexy will think of this if she ends up reading this during the time I’m on the train.

Part of her, I’m sure, is embarrassed that I’m writing a post on this, without a shirt or bra or anything on (That’s a lie… I’m wearing a necklace), and yet part of me is also wondering if she’ll end up saying something witty about this post when I next see her face-to-face… like maybe “Nice shirt… glad you have one on…” or perhaps “I see you’ve bundled up” or something even more vague that wouldn’t suggest to the rest of the family or anyone else listening that I was at some point going topless.

I feel like the song I’m currently listening to (Warhol’s Portrait of Gretzky by Hawksley Workman) works pretty well with how weird I’m feeling right now…. because I’m still not really seeing a problem with being naked up top.

And if anyone wants to know what Sanity says on this subject right now, she’s pretty fine with it… not really thinking it’s okay that I’m writing a post about it (Insanity approves), but since I’ve locked my door and aren’t parading around sans shirt in front of an open window, this isn’t exactly a BAD idea, or an embarrassing one, or one that will haunt me for the rest of my life…

Wow that has a possibility of coming back and biting me in the ass. Perhaps this post will become the written equivalent of a meme. I don’t know.

If anyone’s wondering what kind of thoughts I’ve had since being topless for this amount of time….

There’s a lot more of a breeze/air movement in my room than I thought.

My necklace pendant keeps tapping me. (it always did that, I’m just noticing it more)

The chords of my headphones are taking a page from my necklace, but to the side.

I wonder what it would be like if I had hair as long as it once was before I first donated hair a couple of years ago.

You notice the stray hair stuck you your chest/stomach (from your head) a lot quicker. It’s just more obvious.

You notice the recently dyed purple hair even more. (I got streaks to the lower layers of my hair… I don’t think I ever ended up mentioning this)

You look down a lot more often, and wonder why.

I wonder if I would feel more awkward about walking around without a shirt or bra if I hadn’t gone to Rangers and had a roommate who took off her shirt as soon as she was inside.

I wonder if this would feel more awkward if I hadn’t ever played strip poker or never went skinny dipping.

I wonder if someone more self-conscious than me would have stopped writing this after a little while to go put Β shirt on.

Thought: Jeez, the chair back is cold

Thought: ACK! Shiver of DOOOOOOOOOOOOM….

Stretching Β is weird.

It’s actually a bit colder than I thought it was in my room…

Thought: I wonder if any of my roommates will ever read this… hm. Whatever.

And now I have to go finish packing. Read Lexy’s latest post HERE, because it’s significantly more serious than this was, and a good warning to people who have dogs and buy treats for them.

I may write another blog post or two while on the train. I don’t know. Depends on if the train wifi is going to crap out again.

CAN’T WAIT TO BE HOME!

Oh, and while I’ve written about how Insanity has suggested Β I go outside without pants on (painted on pants… use the paiiiint DON’T DO IT!), I won’t ever go outside casually without a significant piece of clothing (ie. a shirt, pants, shoes [in winter]…). To the family, if you were wondering, this is just an odd experience for me. Mom, that text you got from me? The one that says “hahaah, I’m feeling really odd right now… can’t wait to be home,” doesn’t that ‘odd’ have a whole new meaning now? Have fun with that πŸ˜€

Doodled, And One of The Three Bears Did It

Okay, you know how in Goldilocks and the Three Bears, the schtick is that Goldilocks goes into the bears’ house, and eats their porridge, sleeps in their beds, and whatever?

“Somebody ate my porridge!”

“Somebody ate MY porridge!”

“Somebody ate MY porridge, and finished it all up!”

Egads!

“Somebody slept in my bed!”

“Somebody slept in MY bed!”

“Somebody is still sleeping in my bed!”

Egads!

Well, I’m feeling a bit like a single bear, with three POSSIBLE Goldilocks invading.

No, they didn’t sleep in my bed.

No, I didn’t leave out porridge and have it eaten.

But one of my roommates, I don’t know who, ate all of my Mini-wheats. And most of my granola bars.

And, I think, some of my instant oatmeal packs.

I woke up this morning, went into the kitchen of my res, and figured, hey, why not have some Mini-wheats? I mean, I haven’t had more than one bowl of the stuff since the beginning of the school year… why not?

I find the box opened and empty.

“Someone ate my Mini-Wheats!”

Jeez. Thanks guys.

I guess that leaving the stupid box as them saying “By the way, you didn’t lose the box, we/I just finished it…”

And then I looked further down and noticed that My large zip-lock baggie of granola bars–both of them– are mostly empty. Like, of the two bags, I have about 5 left.

“Someone ate my granola bars too!”

And beside that is the slightly emptier looking large ziplock bag of Quaker instant oatmeal.

“AND someone ate my friggin instant oatmeal!”

-_-

That is my unimpressed face right there.

Here’s another one.

UNIMPRESSED I SAY!

Yeah, that’s right, I’m not devastated or anything, I just wan to know what makes any of them think it’s okay to eat my snack food! And not replace it!

I think I’m going to put a couple of sticky notes up that say something to express my unimpressed-ness.

Maybe something like…

“IF YOU FINISH MY FOOD, PLEASE REPLACE IT. THANK YOU.”

Or something like that.

A Girl should be able to eat her mini-wheats when she bought them.

The fact that my Dad bought them for me is irrelevant.

My friend M says she would write “DON’T FUCKING TOUCH MY FUCKING CEREAL!” πŸ˜€ What a friend…

In general, I would like to think it would be common courtesy to replace it when you finish about 4/5 of something…

This is worse than when another roomie drank my delicious green drink… I’s called ‘Green Goodness’ and if you know of it, you know it’s pretty bad to steal that stuff…

*sigh*…

>:|

Two Sides of the Same Turtle… In Harry Potter… In Reality? No.

I was watching a comedian on YouTube (because it’s taking over what I find amusing to do to waste time D:), and one comedian came up and she mentioned something that made me thing. Here is the video in case anyone wants to try to jump ahead of me in this:


Can you guess?

She says that she can eat a full pizza by herself. She looks at the serving size, sees that it feeds 2-3 people and counts in her multiple personalities and calls it a meal…

I wonder if that would work for me.

If, when I went home and got out one of the big plates for when I’m eating whatever cooked deliciousness that my Dad has made up, I could co-explain it with “I’m a university student and I miss your cooking… also, this is for me and two different personalities that live in separate rooms of my mind. Don’t worry.”

The first bit would explain the first night… and maybe the following two dinners after that. The rest though… I think my parents worry about how much I’m eating. They shouldn’t.

I too can eat a whole pizza myself. I was feeling lazy the other day and was going to order a pizza. Then I decided that it would be embarrassing to bring out the empty box the next day to put in the recycler as it was the weekday and when my friends come over for a couple of hours it’s generally known.

Bu still, it got me wondering another thing… That wondering has caused me to realize something else too.

The wondering would be about what would be my Insane and Sane sides favourite foods. And how would they eat them.

The realization is that I think about my sane and insane sides a bit too much.

But they’re interesting to think about, as I have to wonder exactly how much of what Insanity wears is stuff that I would LIKE to wear but don’t have the balls or confidence to wear, and how much more like Lexy’s would my grades be like if I was a it more Sanity-oriented, rather than middling?

Would my earlier goal of Architectural Engineering have become reality? Would I have made plans for a sideways skyscraper? (think on that for a moment)

Why was it that after I wrote my bus-driver joke with Sanity and Insanity, and I wrote that they had blue eyes like I do, did my mental image of Insanity having one purple eye and one Green eye not fade? Why did I immediately think that “Well of course Insanity would get in on the coloured contacts deal (and why would she limit herself to only one colour?), and of course Sanity also has contacts, she’s just too busy getting other things done to put them on.”? It doesn’t make much sense that I immediately come up with these solutions. Or it does, but I’m making actual characters out of them.

And as I’ve been reading quite a bit of Harry Potter fanfiction lately, with many different characters, I’ve found that when I’m thinking of certain characters and plots a lot, I wake up thinking that it’s somewhat real.

One morning I woke up to my alarm and almost went back to sleep, thinking that “I can take a shower tomorrow… I can just use a cleaning charm when I wake up before I go to class.”

Other such thoughts, which caught me equally unawares, were these:

“Lexy’s next dog should be a Krup…” (a Krup [or Crup] is a little terrier-type dog with a forked tail, who is a great guard dog who attacks muggles on instinct. Obviously I don’t think of my family as muggles)

“My foot has been so itchy… I should look up a healing spell or something…” (Whatever was wrong with my foot is now solved, AFTER I did thorough research on all that could be going wrong with my foot… at one point I was certain that I was developing athletes foot, and was planning on going out to get a creme. Laziness saved me embarrassment and money.)

“I just need a potion, and I’ll stop throwing up already” (At one point, during a time when I actually had a morning class, my stomach was like “Umm…. EVERYTHING OUT! NOW” and I was unhappy and escaped from the toilet long enough to e-mail the teacher and say that I wasn’t feeling ‘well’ before going back to the toilet. I think this Harry Potter imaginings was wishful thinking)

“I would much rather be studying Transfiguration right now… might do that later…” (STUPID MIDTERMS! I HATE THEM!)

And all of these thoughts ended with something along the lines of “Oh… wait…” at varying times after I had them.

So I’m kind of afraid that at some point I’m going to wake up to some noise (like my alarm) and think something like “Oh no, Insanity has changed my alarm again… or she’s just making beeping noises… why hasn’t Sanity stopped her already???”

Or anything like this:

“Sanity will help me do my homework” (I don’t actually abuse smart friends like this, I just borrow their colourful notes to look at before exams)

“I wonder what Insanity would do to that girl” (She sat in the front row of class, next to me, and played games all class… And then at the end of class she went up to the prof. and was all panicky “Oh, I TOTALLY didn’t understand this part or this part or this part… Heeeeelp me I’m pitiful”… didn’t know whether or not to be angry or impressed as I was distracted by whatever game she was playing.)

“Sanity can go out to buy the groceries…” (I dislike grocery shopping as they put tempting snacks that I don’t NEED at every corner and aisle)

“I should steal some of Insanity’s clothing… when was the last time she did laundry…?” (I need to do laundry. I need to add money to my laundry card.)

I really want a pizza now…

OH! and check out the ChickComedy’s channel on YouTube πŸ˜€ Very funny πŸ˜€