there is no torture worse in the world than not being able to sleep because you have a rascal flat's song stuck in your head. visions of sparkly jean jackets spread to nightmares.
i have wrinkles. i guess it's time to pull out that black umbrella and cower from the sun.
my dad is 64 and i think i have just as many wrinkles as he does. genetics, man. i seem to gather all the undesirable qualities from both sides. maybe my scientist sister could explain this to me.
I tried to make coconut macaroons yesterday. they are my favorite. i made a fatal mistake and they turned into coconut macaroon sloppy runny messes. i won't lie, i cried about it. chas lied and said "i kinda like 'em". macaroons are serious business, there is no room for mistakes. i picked myself up by my bootstraps, and binged on all the sweets we had in our house to make myself feel better. i know how to handle stress and disappointment very well.
the weather is just perfect. if i could live in a universe that was perpetually this weather, i would have all the felicity in the world. well, as long as i had a good macaroon to eat, too.
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