Jesus Tapdancing Christ!

I don't know what the hell is going on in the apartment upstairs, but it sounds like a herd of alpacas is tapdancing on my ceiling. This is ridiculous. As long as it's not their washing machine blowing up AGAIN, I guess I'll be fine. But dammit, if our kitchen floods again, I'm moving the fuck out, lease be damned.

ANYWAY, it's been an excruciating couple of days, replete with paper writing and not having time to study for my history final that's tomorrow. But the biology paper's almost done. And if I never have to read, write, or even talk about spider sex again, I'll be sound as a pound. UGH! I'm just glad the insane ordeal that has been fall semester is almost over. I definitely need a vacation. Too bad I'm going home, which means that I'm basically heading from the frying pan into the fire. No real vacation for Killy. I may not be doing school work, but dealing with my family and resisting the urge to cut my own arm off just to have something to throw at them is quite a weighty task, not to be taken on by the faint of heart (wait, I am faint of heart. Shit!). In any case, my misadventures in Conservative Hell (my hometown) should make for some interesting blog entries, so there's at least something in it for you, my faithful readers.

If I believed in Santa, I'd ask him to return to me just a smidgen of my sanity for Christmas. Too bad he's just a sketchy old man in a ratty velveteen suit ringing a bell outside the liquor store. To be honest, I never believed in Santa Claus. My parents just never did the whole "Santa" thing... skipping out on Santa is a proud Fundie Christian tradition. Sure, we put out cookies and milk on Christmas Eve, but it was understood that it was just for fun and that no jolly fat man would be coming down the chimney and eating our baked goods. The cookies were eaten by my skinny, slightly less than jovial parents. Besides, if there was a Santa Claus, he would have given me that Creepy Crawlers rubber bug-making set (basically, the little boys' version of an Easy Bake Oven) I asked for in the third grade. Hmph!