However, I regret to announce that, despite what I said in my last post, coffee is no longer a miracle drink. Well, it could be. But the last time I drank some I ended up not falling asleep until 3 AM and having the jitters. The jitters are not fun. I suppose it's my fault for drinking coffee at 8 PM, but there you have it. And then the next day my heart continued to race, and then the next day, and the next, and maybe I was thinking about it too much because I am a freak, but I eventually went to the doctor about it and despite the fact that I may have been imagining the whole damn thing, I got hooked up to a heart monitor.
This is what it looks like. Ooo, very snazzy, you might say. Sleek. New. I bet it's even comfortable!
It's not. Above is a rough approximation of how it's actually hooked up to a human being. Why yes, it IS rather like having a large spider attached to your chest. Not to mention it burned like the fires of a thousand fiery suns when I pulled the damn tape off.
Anyway, after that whole lovely event, I actually had a perfectly lovely weekend where I frolicked and carved a badass pumpkin:
See? Isn't that so freakin badass? I thought so. I found a tutorial online, but by the time I went to carve the pumpkin, all I had was the picture, so basically everything was like, "okay draw... this looks retarded... carve... retarded...oh wait, it actually looks pretty cool." Luckily I had help in the form of one Daniel DeCola, who did all the technical stuff with the sizing of the hole for the gourd and shaving off the skin, which is how the teeth and eyes are more yellowy than orange. I'm pretty sure that if I had done this alone the pumpkin would have actually looked like a five year old child somehow got a hold of a knife and randomly cut shapes out of a pumpkin.
I also went trick or treating, because this is the last time in my life where it will be socially acceptable, or close to socially acceptable. Yes. I am 22 years old and I still consider it socially acceptable for me to be trick or treating. I got a ton of candy, so I'm not complaining. Although I'll probably start complaining once I eat it all, put on 30 lbs, and have all my teeth fall out.
Speaking of candy, I'm probably going to go eat it all now, so let's end on a high note! And by a high note, I mean a high note for me.
"You are good at this" -- What my book editing teacher wrote on my edits for a pro-life, highly conservative, murder mystery manuscript.
Aaand I guess a high note for everyone else too:
It's a puppy!
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