Mr. Golden Sun

I prayed we’d have good enough weather for us to be able to go to the Santa Claus parade, and not only were we able to go, it was sunny and all-around good weather.

THANK you God!

Everything went pretty well, there. I didn’t get to go find a Starbucks. *pout* Though if I had, I doubt Luke would have let me get any coffee, and I’m sure that were David and Derek there when I stated my wishes, they would have agreed, after what happened that night after UBC, with the diet Coke and all.

*whines* But I like iced cappuccinos/frappuccinos/mochas!

This is so stupid. I went to bed at one last night and I couldn’t fall asleep until three-thirty. I laid in bed for two and a half hours!!! I wanted so badly to fall asleep because I was really eager for today to come, but I just couldn’t. I shall never drink so much tea at night again. We went out for supper last night with my (other) grandmother, in Vancouver, and I drank a lot of the tea. Not to say that all teas would do that to me, and even the effect might have been sporadic. Romanization for that type of tea: sao mei. This was one of the ones that didn’t taste too bitter even when it was concentrated, so I didn’t add water to it to dilute it, since I didn’t think it necessary. My grandma was afraid I wouldn’t be able to sleep, but I was like, “Oh, it’s fine, tea’s never been able to make me not sleep before.”

Eat your words, girl.

Obviously, the caffeine amount in numerous cups of semi-strong sao mei tea is enough to keep me up.

I – just suddenly feel like I’m talking about shots of vodka or something. Wine, and getting drunk. Or…stoned.

Why the heck is “Boulevard Of Broken Dreams” making me depressed???

Luke! I resent that! I have never been wolf-like, nor have I ever shown any wolfish tendencies! Lycanthropic side indeed.

I am one screwed up chick. I mean, I know I’m not that screwed up, but I’m pretty much getting there. I just hope this isn’t going to be on some downward slide.

A semi-admission: I’m dreading Christmas. Presents are fun, but in truth I could do without them…and as self-centred as this might seem it’s taxing coming up with presents for family. I really like the Christmassy atmosphere at school and all, and I like winter a good deal, but Christmas at home…last year was – stupid. It was so tense; everyone was threads away from snapping, I think. We almost didn’t put up our Christmas tree. The reason we did, afterwards, was because we’d have company over and they’d wonder why we didn’t have our tree. Or at least, part of the reason. It was just dumb. I wrote that whole little spiel which I titled "Deck The Halls With Boughs Of Baneberry" – it’s very long and not very catchy, I know. The piece was more of a ranting/spewing/raging thing; it’s not lyrically smooth and I don’t think things rhyme, but I liked it for its title. Ah, English. Baneberry – baneberries are poisonous. And the word “bane” means something that causes misery or ruin.

You don’t really have to comment on the Xmas thing. I’m just feeling blah again, so…

Because I’m opening up a little here, and –

Uh, why am I starting to sound like a cynical…brat…here?

I might open up and say something that I feel like I might be judged on. So I don’t want people to talk to me about what I say, though there are a few exceptions.

I don’t like to reveal something and end up changing someone’s opinions of me. That is what I am – afraid – of. Therefore, I don’t reveal so much about myself to almost anyone. My computer obviously doesn’t count. *laugh* When I do, I usually don’t want to be talked to about it. So – I guess I’m insecure in that way.

Again. Please don’t comment or allude to this, online, via emails, or in person. Unless I’m like, yeah, sure, whatever, go ahead.

No more of that for a bit. They’ve upped the Christmas banquet ticket prices by five bucks. It was fifteen dollars last year. If you bring a can of food I think you get a dollar off. I think I’m coming in black. Or black and some stupid sparkly red thing. Whatever; I don’t know.

Werewolf…mouse with its spine crushed between the jaws of some feral cat…sleepy cat swiping irritated-ly away.

Number one, finish my ridiculously easy science (which I put off till now and am, obviously, still putting off), and number two, ask my mom to see if I will have to pay the entire banquet ticket fee myself. Provided I’m going. I think last year we split the cost…or something. Meh.

Oh, and, yay! Everyone listen to Luke. I’m not going to show up wearing that sweater. Motherly? Ugh. NOT a look I’m going for. No. So no fuzzy pink sweater. :)

And abuse? Me? Never. Neh-ver. :P And it wasn't my choice; I wanted to come! Geez.