Summer!

I'm in Ottawa, Ontario right now, visiting my grandparents for the entire glorious month of August. I look forward to this all year, and now that the time has finally come, I am savouring every second of my time here. What I hate about it, though, is that as the days go by, I am dreading the end of the month, and that makes going back to school seem much worse than it really is. I don't even mind school that much, but you can't really blame me for favouring the temporarily relaxed lifestyle of summer. You can do anything you want, from sleeping in, to sneaking out of bed in the dead of night to go to a party with your friends. (I actually did that a couple weeks ago. We stuffed pillows inside our sleeping bags to make it look as if they contained bodies and then climbed out the window. That was actually kind of pointless because my dad probably would have let us go anyways if we asked, but sometimes it's fun to feel bad-ass.) I love being able to waste your whole afternoon reading poetry without worrying about the fact that your science project is due tomorrow. It's just a really nice break from everything. Hope you're all enjoying your summer!

My Amazing Family

Okay, today I will tell all of you nonexistent readers about my family. My parents don't live together, so I'm supposed to spend half of my time at each house. However, they live across the street from one another, so this never comes into play much. I just run across the street whenever I want to. My daddy is great. He's really the best father I could ever hope to have, and we get along wonderfully, as well. Not really anything else to share here. As for my mom, well, there's a bit more to say. I mean, she's an amazing person and everything, but she's just a little bit hard to live with. But whatever, I love her, and that counts for more, right? Anyways, moving on. I also have a little eight year old half-sister named Aloria. We share mothers but have different fathers, and she is super sweet. I actually named her when I was four years old. I just made the name up and that is why it is so unusual. I could go on and on about all my aunts and uncles and grandparents and cousins, (I have a lot of them) but I'm tired of writing, so I'm going to go. Ta-ta for now, my friends.

The Disease Of Perfectionism

It took such a long time for me to customize my blog template yesterday, it was absolutely ridiculous. Being somewhat of a perfectionist, I find it very difficult to make up my mind, and this was no exception! After finally deciding on a background, I worried over all the other options. It must have taken me an hour at least to get it the way I wanted it! If you are a perfectionist, or know someone who is a perfectionist, you know exactly what I'm talking about. It amazes me that the littlest things can seem so important. A particularly strange habit I have is making sure the fridge door is closed. After I take something out, I'll press my weight against the door. And sometimes when I'm watching t.v. or doing something equally unrelated to the fridge, I'll spontaneously get an urge to go inspect the suction seal that holds the door closed. Are any of you people perfectionists? Assuming anyone is reading this besides me, which I doubt, feel free to comment and tell your own stories or whatever.

Okay, I started a blog yesterday. To tell the truth, I really feel like a geek for doing it. When you think of a blogger, you picture a pasty teenager, a nerdy social outcast who spends all day in his room bent over his computer keyboard, right? Well, that's what I think of. Whatever. I started it because people are always telling me to write in a diary, to express my feelings, blah blah blah. I hate that, don't you? I mean, do they really think that I'm even listening to them? It's kind of like when you go to visit relatives, and they gush over how much you've grown. It just makes you want to stay short forever, so they can't do that. Anyways, I'm getting distracted from the point, so let's move on. When I follow their generous advice and start writing in a diary, I get on great for a couple of days. But as I begin to feel more committed to the task of writing every night before I go to bed, recording my everyday activities seems more like a chore rather than a pleasure, and I tend to make up excuses for not writing. "Oh, I'm too tired tonight," or "Oh, I can afford to miss just one day, can't I?" Eventually I just stop altogether. Also, my hand usually cramps up before I have written what I think of as a suitable amount of detail. However, typing is much less strenuous exercise for the hands, and, while I in no way predict that this documentary will go any better than any of my previous volumes, I am willing to try again.