Coughing Up A Bladder

That is strange. I don't think water when I think Caprisun.

Yes, I am not participating in family movie night right now. But I did for about half an hour, and I must admit, I love Katie quite dearly. She shared her popcorn with me and I shared my M and M's, and then we marveled at the wonder that is salt and chocolate. I also have underestimated her intelligence. She thought it would be funny to tell my mom and dad that we were watching High School Musical so that they would have to act excited when they really aren't (she know they wouldn't want to sit through it), when really she had been planning to watch The Polar Express the entire time. I found this hilariously funny, truly.

I'm glad your mom approves of my CD. That makes me feel quite happy inside, despite the cold that took over what used to be my heart only a couple of hours ago.

FORTS! Yes! If I spend the night tomorrow, we are building a fort. Definitely. Yesh! And possibly making soup.

That is the nicest thing I have ever heard. She may not act like it, but I am positive that she appreciates it.

Oh, jeez, this is a long blog to respond to. I am not frustrated, but it may take me a while. As in, a whole two posts. But I promise I will double post to make up for it.

I think that as long as we can even it out, we should share each other's problems. But if you take all of everyone's problems and trust no one to take yours, the system fails miserably. No one should steal all the problems, because with the problems that are stealing experience and learning opportunities. So STOP!, Abby. You are depriving people of educations.

Happy is always what it is all about. Even when you are doing something you don't normally like, like shoveling snow or peeling potatos, you should be happy that you are doing it for someone or benefitting from it. You are shoveling the driveway so that your mom can go to work or so the sweet old lady across the street can see her seven-year-old grandchild play Mary in the Christmas musical, which should make you happy. And don't make me tell you how beneficial those peeled potatos will be in the future. So no matter what you are doing, it should in some way make you happy, otherwise you should not be doing it because that means you are doing it for all the wrong reasons.

"Aye! I know you!" The wretched, smelling Ragpicker cried out from behind her shopping cart. "You...you are..." she began to say, pausing briefly between words to take drags off of the pot she stole from the hippie who had recently died. "I believe I recognize you from back in the day?"

The ticketmaster walked past the ragpicker quickly, trying to push the smudged face of her past into the back of her troubled mind. She knew that Ragpicker, but she would never, ever reveal the truth of their troubled, violent, and cryptic history. No one must know, especially with her wedding to Garfunkle so near! So she trudged along the road without another thought. Or so she told herself.

To be continued...

You are good enough, Abby, and you need to quit believing that you aren't. Goodness gracious, you are saving children in Africa and practiving for the SAT! I fully believe that you are a wonderful human being.

I am totally psyched. Believe it. I haven't been camping in about seven years.

Ah, I read the bit about the chaos of our school and became so saddened. Talk to them, Abby.

I become so jealous of people who have the answers to religion and what they want to do in life and how they want to do it. I hate that I have no idea. I hate that I am indecisive. Once again, deadlines. Why do I need to decide what I want to do with my life by the time I am 18? This seems so stupid, as most eighteen year olds haven't yet decided who they are, exactly. How are they supposed to decide who they want to be?

I have to go join in the dance and join in the song. Or just the movie. Whichever.