deer innards

There is a freaking deer head in my room. What the F? What's worse is he watches me sleep...well, he would be if his eyes weren't plastic...and his head wasn't detached from his body...and if he was filled with deer-innards instead of whatever the heck taxidermist use to stuff these things. God my parents house is weird.

After a year of living alone, I do like that I come home to other human life...feline as well. The bird is another story. Don't ever (seriously) think that a macaw would be a cool pet. It won't be. Unless you're a masochist.

I also like that I have an oven. I think I've made six cakes in the last month. Now would be a good time to be my friend...if you like cake.

Plus I'm about to save money up the ying-yang. I like that as well.

Twenty-three is such a strange age. But every year since I was thirteen has be strange...and I've felt pretty much the same since then. Juvenile. I've always felt too young. I think Joey said it best when he mused,

"The older we get, the more we realized how much we don't know."

Did I mention I'm dating a brilliant man? Did I mention he used to sew his pants to his legs and had a blue mohawk? I'll probably mention it again.

I saw his old leather jacket hanging up in his closet the other day and like a crazy person just burst into tears of overwhelming joy. Then I put it on and he shed a tear or three of disbelief. I should mention not a word was spoken throughout this whole ordeal. Yeah, we seem normal in public.

I have a headache, but I'm feeling blissful.

I'm going to go polish off the spice cake...and then I'm going to make lemon squares.