Bad apples

Heya peeps! It’s early in the wees and I’m up for the day already, and have been since before midnight. I’m perky at the moment, but that’s not going to last. About an hour into my math class I’ll begin nodding off so dramatically as to be in real danger of putting my eye out with a pencil (more than likely my own, but you never can predict these things). At four this afternoon I’ll fall to my knees pleading for sweet nighttime to come so I can go to bed. I’ll go to bed anyway, even though nighttime will have ignored me as always. It never listens, nighttime. Bastage.

I ate breakfast already. It was a slice of leftover ham pizza with canned mushrooms and olives I added myself, as well as a few slices of a fresh homegrown tomato that was grown at somebody else’s home. I think I ate a couple gnats, too, that were stuck on the sauce, but they could have been oregano. One of the hardest things to get used to when first moving to the south was ordering a pizza and requesting ”ham” instead of “Canadian bacon”. They don’t know what Canadian bacon is here, or even Canadians, or lattes. Or bagels. But I like these southerners anyway. It’s not like I was an expert in livermush when I came; I have no room to judge. 

Algebra is still kicking my hinders, but I’m kicking back. A growing respect is burgeoning between us, and I imagine that soon, in true sitcom tradition, we’ll be working at the beer factory together and singing songs that begin with “Shlemeel, Shlemozzle”. Those may not be spelled right, but Algebra and me, we don’t need to know how to spell.

I’ve been reading a fascinating book of interviews featuring Stephen King that has stirred up a desire in me for campy horror flicks. Unfortunately, most of the movies made from his novels are sheer poopycaca and not worth the twenty bucks it takes to drive five miles to rent them. But I don’t want to complain about the price of gas now, unless it’s to reference the hilarious kind that will show up later in math class as a result of the pizza I had earlier.

Thankfully, I have Carrie, Cat’s Eye, and Creepshow coming via Netflix this week, and as they’re all considered classics of the genre, they should sate my bloodlust. (You HAD to have known I’d bring it around to vampires again, didn’t you? Sillies. I’m not letting you off the hook that easy.) Time for a latte now, except I don’t have an espresso machine so I won’t be having one of those. Plain old Mr. Coffee regular with cream will have to do. Have a great day, you guys. kiss!