Whoever said, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade!" never actually owned a lemon tree, because let me tell you something: I've got neighbors desperate to give away their lemons, they've got so many rotting in their front gardens at the end of every day. And I'm pretty sure those people know about lemonade... and … Continue reading Lemonade
Opinionated
The Internet Gets Me
I was showing my mom my new dress yesterday, which is covered in dinosaurs (because I aspire to be Ms. Frizzle), and she asked how on earth I found such gloriousness. "The internet, of course!" I replied, because let's all be honest here: the information age is a pretty sweet one if you aspire to … Continue reading The Internet Gets Me
I’m Old.
Okay, so I'm not really old. I'm in my mid-30s, which by any standard outside the Middle Ages is perfectly reasonable, and since the Middle Ages had absolutely nothing to do with reason, we're going to ignore that part. However, I do enjoy gloating over all the things that I know about, that kids these days will … Continue reading I’m Old.
The Economy Depends on Dinosaurs
The Kraken has a second friend! Friend #2! It's a minor miracle, you guys! Okay, actually, he claims he has a friend. I'm still not 100% convinced the other kid knows they're friends, but I'm not about to burst his tiny, socially confused bubble. It's okay goblin. You'll figure out how basic social interactions work eventually. And … Continue reading The Economy Depends on Dinosaurs
Samosas, Friends, and Human Rights
This weekend, I'm going to a samosa party. Tragically, we're making them for charity, not for eating, so I will not get to gorge on fried deliciousness until I explode. But I will learn how to make them for myself, which is pretty exciting/probably bad for my arteries, so it's a net gain. But the … Continue reading Samosas, Friends, and Human Rights
It’s All About Me
A few days ago, my dad got mysteriously sick. Like, kid-from-The-Exorcist levels of sick. Luckily, he wasn't possessed by Satan himself, and I'm relatively sure none of the furniture started moving on its own, but it was still a bad scene. Now, my parents' house (the house I grew up in) has exactly 1.3 billion … Continue reading It’s All About Me