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Yes, that is my mom's voice. That is not our dog, but it looks suitably chagrined.

"I want him to die! That's why I feed him bones. I hate him! I can't wait till he dies!"

I'll be taking Sonny with me when I move into my dad's house next

It just happened on me. I want to be a pyschologist ( Read more... )

Hahaha! I drove today! I find that very funny. I was driving! I really drove! In a car! It was so exciting! I am speaking with exclamation marks! I drove with OTHER cars! (And I almost kind of hit a jaywalking pedestrian but not really. It sounds funnier if I said that. He looked familiar, too ( Read more... )

The other day I was at the supermarket and I overheard a little girl, standing in the aisle with a box of some snack food in hand, scrutinizing the label, and pronouncing with that sort of young, halting tentativeness-- "Only- one hunnded and firty calories and zero grams of fat. Is that too much ( Read more... )

Today I intended to sleep in, but because Lucas had his stupid first session math exam I had to get up at 7:30 to show him where the Fruit Loops were, after which I attempted to fall asleep again but failed because by this point my mom had awoken and was noisily applying makeup. Yes, noisily applying makeup. Then the dog started to bark, the rats ( Read more... )

Sooo glad that I'm no longer in grade 10. I was helping Lucas to review for his Planning midyear today, and throughout the session, was reminded of how utterly stupid that course was.

(Quizzing Lucas from his list of terms)

"What is a goal?"
"Something you strive for?"

"What is a want?"
"A Nintendo Wii."

"No!"

And they don't even get ( Read more... )

Willard died. I painted his death portrait. I managed to overcome my fear of touching a dead pet with him; I lifted his corpse all by myself. With Lombard I was certain that he's rear up and bite me. Not with wild animals, but dead pets-- I always think that their corpses will bite. But I picked up Willard ( Read more... )

Yay, the two most stressful exams are over! Now biology is all I have to worry about. And I don't really have to worry about that ( Read more... )

Writing makes me feel so happy. Art does too, but not to this degree-- paints are lovely but they are not rapturous. Words are fantastic. If I could live in a treehouse made out of words, with a pet crow that speaks in blank verse, and an endless supply of oats, coffee and assorted fruits, I would be the happiest person in the entire world ( Read more... )

There's something bothering me. I'm not exactly sure what it is but it could be one or several of the following ( Read more... )