Ugh, 2009. 2009 is already fired. Well, originally, I was just gonna link to James's(eseses) entry about it, but then I typed all this word vomit. So enjoy. And I don't care that it's a block paragraph. Maybe I'll fix it later and maybe I'll win a million dollars and a pony.

Yuck. I'm all sick, but not really. I think it's a combination of slightly sick to begin with +not enough sleep +not enough food/water +too much standing around/browsing. It equaled me being all sick by the time Emmy and I actually got over to his apartment. So yeah. And then everybody else had something else to do, apparently (good job not being asshats, guys... oh wait. 8D I'm sick, I can say whatever I want. Lemme alone.). So the three of us Steak 'n' Shake, where... they decided not to serve us! I was really nauseous, and wanted some water, but nooooo. Eventually we left and went to Wendy's. (As we left, I saw a family sitting behind us that had only water. They looked like they wanted to leave too, poor things.) Wendy's was okay. So then we went to the theater, waited in line for waaaaay too fucking long (standing made me feel worse, as did smelling the popcorn, yay), and then goti nto the theater... only to find that the seats were so goddamned small that we couldn't sit in them. Seriously. Even wee Emmy was like "these seats are tiny D: " and I was all "I feel like spew and I don't wanna sit on the floor." So we left (for I am the fun-killer, huzzah). I didn't really care about being out the money I paid, but James tried to get a refund. Tried. I should've thrown up on the cashier/clerk-girl's shoes. What a bitch. So then we just went to Books-A-Million and Toys R Us. And stood around/browsed more, which made me feel worse. Ugh. Emmy kept trying to give us "alone time," but it's a store. So yeah. No. (btw, I still hate that Books-s-Million.) And then I just couldn't do it anymore, so we all went home. Blech.

I feel slightly better now-- a little less like death warmed over-- but I still just want to curl up and die somewhere. Ugh. Managed to eat, though. Feel feverish, but am not. Oh, and I'm kind of shaky. And cold, except when I'm hot. Yay. ;_;

At least the CD was passable. That's good. (And I'm gonna get some of that damn cocoa one of these days, lawls.)

EDIT: Goddamn, I just wanna whine about being sick, Mom. I don't think there's actually anything to be done about it. And the next family member that calls me "love" is getting punched in the mouth, set on fire, dropkicked into a pile of angry untrained pitbulls, and then thrown in a dumpster. It's not cute, or sweet, or familial, or whatever you think it is. It's goddamned motherfucking creepy, and it makes me uncomfortable. And we're not even British. I would understand if we were British. But we are not. So stop. I am not your "love." I am your relative. Stop it. >:( (PS- how the hell do I tell them not to call me that anymore? Not that I think they would, but you never know, I guess. Goddamn.)

...Hahaha, I run on rage and the despair of small children. I perked up quite a bit while bitching just now. Raaaaaaaaah.