Last weekend of my eighth grade year.

Enormously thrilling, isn't it? I know nobody cares, but it's terribly liberating to know that next weekend, I won't have to bag a lunch or go to bed on time for school! I'll be free free free! I love summer.

As for my day, it was pretty boring. Saturdays are always low key for me, I like to use them to catch up on sleep and get all of the stress of the week out of my head. I woke about nine, and hung out on the internet waiting for my mother's friend to get out of my house. I don't normally go to all of the trouble of personally hating people, unless I've actually got something to hold against them, but something about this particular friend of her's really grinds my gears or however the saying goes. She's extremely outgoing, which means she contunally intrudes on my privacy, interrogating me about my life and filling me in on every single thing that happens in Cambodia. Yes, she lives there. You'd think it'd be interesting, but it's really not when you've spent the past eight years of your life hearing about it all of the time. I sound like a bad person, but that's honestly how I feel about the matter. When she left, I came downstairs and had some of the coffee she'd left. Apparently, drinking really strong coffee with a lot of creamer in it and not eating anything is not a smart idea, because I was jittery all day. I went upstairs and continued in my fruitless quest for a Love Battery shirt online, and then made myself some lunch around one and watched television for a while.

Later that afternoon, my parents had the grand idea to haul everyone out of the house and take them to see 'Up.' Which is a Pixar thing. It was okay, but it definitely wasn't worth my mother's random sob attacks throughout the film, and the torture of taking my sister in to the bathroom with me and hearing her narrate the whole experience for the benefit of everyone else in the bathroom. Having such a vivacious family makes me want to go all Charles Manson on them every once in a while, but they're better people than I portray them as. We came home, ate and then my brother opened presents. It's his birthday today, he's six now. Six is not a particularly good year for anyone, I don't think, but he'll live through it. I wish him luck, at any rate.

Now I find myself scouring the internet for shirts belonging to anyone I've been in to, as of late. Dead Moon has some cute shirts, but they're all skeletal, and my parents have this thing about that. They already rejected my Bikini Kill shirt because, as it would seem, having the word Kill on a shirt is quite offensive. There are no cheap Letters to Cleo or Veruca Salt shirts in the world, and Screaming Trees has no shirts left on the internet either. I already promised my mother I'd stop buying Nirvana shirts for a while, so that leaves me searching through everything I listen to, all for the sake of ridding myself of money. I think I have an impulsive spending addiction or something, because I cannot keep cash for more than a week.

On a sort of unrelated note, these online stores that tag Blind Melon as emo are insane. They're the furthest thing from that. I think. Why are all of their shirts black, though? I own too many black shirts. I want the Galaxie car one in white with a black logo, not reversed... Ha! I found a white one. And I also found a violet Dinosaur Jr shirt, adorned with an adorable cow. I haven't listened to them in forever, but that cow is enough to make me buy it regardless of band, plus it is only ten dollars and eighty two cents. Sold.

This is ridiculously short. I'll post something soon to make up for it...

I listened to everything from Garbage to Tad today. I also listened to Mudhoney and Love Battery, my ongoing addictions. I listened to a few string tributes, some piano covers, and that's about it. Oh, and rather a lot of Bikini Kill.