I'm hungry. Ironic as that is. And so begins the year 5771.
I figured it was about time I updated this. Though, admittedly, I have nothing of importance to say.
I knew I should've had some more challah. Meh.
(And let the stream-of-consciousness typing...begin.)
Was it ever awkward, waking up after a four-hour nap to find my relatives already here. I fear this new phase of stereotypical teenage mannerism isn't exactly improving my status among the members of my extended family. Not that I really care what they think.
Okay. That was a lie. I wish it wasn't true, but they're my family, and I wish they'd accept me as such. I'm critical enough of myself that I really don't need them to contribute to it.
And, heh, Poppa finally noticed Sydney and I are alike. Okay, Aunt Susan, your daddy accepted this. Why don't YOU try to? Funny how I used to want to be as different from my cousin as possible, and now it's pretty obvious we're cut from very much the same sort of mold.
I suppose I'm a bit of a hypocrite, in the respect that I sort of shun Aunt Susie. (Yes, I have two Aunt Susans. Susie is Mom's sister.) Rather, I accept that she is what she is, but I don't necessarily like her for it. She depresses me. I'm pretty sure she depresses anyone with extensive knowledge of her situation.
I never swear to G-d, but in this case, I promise to never smoke, to never be in impossible debt, to get a college degree that's useful, to never be overweight, and to - as soon as I begin living on my own - always eat right.
Well, now that that's over and done with, I think I'll go watch the episode of Haven I missed on Friday. biggrin
L'shana tova, to anyone else who just celebrated the Jewish New Year. May 5771 be a better year that 5770.
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Sukuhi
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Let the waiting commence.