the spy in my keyboard.. or maybe that's a crumb

written at 3:59 a.m. on 12.24.04

Brr. It's -5 degrees outside, and not much warmer inside. Thank goodness for these things called "blankets." The huge bugs at the top of the screen that want me to win an iPOD are unwanted reminders of Texas cockroaches. (I started writing this entry for Xanga, but am now changing my mind.) Then again, Texas is warmer. Then again, I still can't love Texas. I'm sorry.

So, it looks like once again, I'm going to be praying for a miracle to happen Christmas Eve. I really love getting snow on Christmas, but it seems that every year the meteorologists try to leave us as hopeless as possible saying "Snow is not anywhere near your hemisphere of the world. Bwa ha ha!" and other such pompous, depressing statements. It also seems like it snows every year, regardless. It's one of those miraculous occurrences that just makes one all warm and fuzzy on the inside. Then again, that also happens when I drink hot cocoa, so...

Ok, anywho, update on the mouth. I.. still look like a chipmunk. I still haven't found my dad's camera, so no pics yet. Oh, and I have a pic of my tattoo, but that's in Daniel's possession, so go yell at him about that. Back to the mouth update. It's sore as heck, but ice cubes are not only fun to suck on in restaurants when your company is less-than-entertaining (or if you're like me and just enjoy sucking on ice cubes).. heck no, ice cubes can also be used for cures for mouth pains! I had ice packs on my cheeks for the first day, then I realized.. who cares about the swelling on the outside?! The pain on the inside is what's threatening to drive me legally insane. (Or legally blonde.. same dif. Ohhhhh. Sorry, I'm just thankful every day that I'm not blonde. Bwa ha ha.)

Ok, that blonde comment made me think. I don't have a lot of blonde friends. I wonder if there is a reason for that. Also, most of my friends are not first borns. First borns tend to clash heads with one another a lot in our control-freakish ways. That reminds me. Josh, I need my book back if you're done with it. (Ok, I just realized that the transition to Josh didn't make sense. He has my book on birth order stuff.)

Irony of all ironies, my dad greeted me the other night, book in hand, mumbling something about Robert Jordan. That name instantly set off a chain reaction of thoughts in my head. Jordan.. Aunt Julie's house.. Daniel.. that must be the guy who wrote the Wheel of Time series. Coming to that conclusion, I asked my dad if Robert Jordan was indeed who I thought he was. He looked at me in a rather confused manner, still in the middle of mumbling something about the book. His trains are easily de-railed, and I had obviously interrupted some fragile train, yet again. Anywho, once the correct train was put in place and was merrily chugging along, he told me that the book in his hand was indeed the first in the series "The Wheel of Time." Sufficiently pleased with myself, I gently removed the book from his outstretched hands and thanked him. He gave the book his highest recommendations, and, evil daughter that I am, I de-railed that train midsenteence, too. I simply made a horizontal waving motion with my arm, signalling that he should step aside, being that he was prohibiting the watching of Lord of the Rings. The only books worthy of interrupting the Lord of the Rings movies are the Lord of the Rings books themselves, and they're too well-behaved to attempt such nonsense.

Anywho, it's 4am, and I should be heading to bed. There is a crumb somewhere in my keyboard. It has moved from under the "N" key to under the space bar to under the "M" key and is now lodged under the comma key. It's quite fascinating, because this makes use of this key quite difficult. I'll clean that out tomorrow. Meanwhile, it's off to bed for me!