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Pimping my friend Sara's novella!

Want some slice-of-life mother/daughter relationships inspired by the likes of Beverly Cleary, Ann M. Martin and Cynthia Voigt? Then this might be for you~ ;D

I want to thank everybody for your kind words regarding Uncle Ricke, including those who responded to my comment on Das Sporking. Your support means a lot to me and my family, and now Ricke is in a better place. He'll always be loved and remembered! ♥♥♥

I've been taking Freddie outside a lot so he could play with this adorable little Shih-Tzu named Abby. She belongs to this cute little girl who lives in the same neighborhood as I do. :o A few days ago, a Maltese named Fifi ran away from home, and Dad and I worked a really long time to snip her mats out. She's so cute and she wouldn't stop kissing us! She's so well-behaved too, she never tried to squirm or run away while we groomed her. Her owner was really happy I took care of the mats for her, and hopes she and Fifi could see me again soon.

After years of boycotting, I finally succumbed and got a Facebook. Bleeeeeeeeeeegh. The good news is I got to reunite with one of my oldest friends, at least! I'm primarily using FB as a way to contact family and animal shelters and posting pictures of pets, so don't expect a whole lot of fandom stuff there, if at all. FB already hates me and has "temporarily blocked" me from liking books/movies/music/etc. Excuse me for being cultured, FB. :P

My sleep schedule's messed up again and I'm tired. Actually interacting with the neighbors makes me want to curl up and hide because I feel so socially awkward. Help. D:

OMGOMGOMGOMG

Dad says if I clean up the entire house, I can get a hedgehog. I hope he's not kidding. OMG OMG OMG

Our dump of a house may actually get clean at this rate. That's how much I want a hedgie! ;;

Very funny, reality.

I was clearly too optimistic last post. 'Cause now I remember WHY we've never succeeded in making our house look "normal" and clean enough to invite neighbors over.

Me: *dumps a bunch of garbage-looking papers in a bag*
Dad: OMG THOSE PAPERS MIGHT BE IMPORTANT DON'T MIX THEM NOW I HAVE TO GO THROUGH THE ENTIRE BAG
Bag: *sits there and is never checked, so it becomes a part of the house's mess*

And he yells at me if I've already thrown the bag out.

What's the fucking point? Every little scrap of paper is apparently of ~*~enormous significance~*~ and something important will be OMG LOST FOREVER if it's thrown out. So if I'm sorting papers the "wrong way" by mixing what could be "important" papers with "garbage," I'll just get lectured and yelled at by Dad. Mom does the same thing, and her room is the most impossible place to clean in our garbage heap of a home.

No wonder we never get anything fucking finished. No wonder this house will never get clean.