My father has this weird way of smiling at me whenever he peaks in to say goodnight.
It's like he thinks we share some kind of inside joke about something, but truthfully, I have no idea what that could be.

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Anyway, since the last time I wrote, a lot of stuff has happened.
Well, actually, not really. But I did turn 19.

I'm not going to spend 30 minutes describing the anniversary of my birth, because in all honesty: it sucked.
But I will share a particular story that had me confused.

You see, my grandmother told me to buy her some stuff to make a cake. I said ok, because I was headed to the store anyway. When I got to her, though, she said that I should take the stuff with me and make the cake myself. I don't remember her reason for saying this, something about not having everything she needed. So I took it with me, and made the cake myself.

Now, the situation is already weird. Because I don't like cake. I didn't want cake. I hadn't planned on making cake. The person who wanted the cake to begin with didn't even get to eat the damn cake.. And it was my birthday for crying out loud!

But here's the recipe:

Warm up some marshmallows to make the first layer. Then pour on lots of toffee sauce on that same layer.
For the second layer - use strawberry jam.
The top should be covered with whipped chream, more toffee sauce and some extra non-heated marshmallows. (Just to make it extra deadly)

There you have it. The laziest cake ever made.

Then I sat down, ate some of it, felt sick, read a book and wallowed in my solace til' mom and dad returned from their sunny vacation.

Happy friggin birthday to me.

To be fair, I'm old now.
I didn't expect much.

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No, but seriously...


Thanks to everyone who wished me a happy birthday.
And thanks to everyone who were kind and generous and awesome enough to give me gifts, even though I'm old. I love you all very, very, very much.



Now, I should really get back to writing.
This one kid has written 17000 words in 6 days.
Jesus.
(Some people are already done. Double Jesus.)