Christmas is almost upon us. Also, as 2015 draws to a close, I can’t believe we went through this year so fast. Can Y’ALL believe it? I know.
Anyway, remember the crap I got into with the seller that sold me fake makeup? Well, it spanned to epic proportions. I reported her, she reported me, she lied a bunch, I demanded my money back, lots of crazy ish – she finally refunded half the amount. Something is better than nothing, right?
Anyway, I didn’t sleep all of last night. I mostly just stayed up reading about the Pearl Harbor attacks and graduated onto reading about exorcism. I have no idea how that happened. But anyway, I’m a scaredy cat and if there’s one thing that terrifies me and that I really don’t tell people it does, is demonic possession.
The first time I saw The Exorcism of Emily Rose, I couldn’t sleep for a week. And you won’t believe this but that movie had me hooked. Now I have a thing for movies about possession, and that’s how I became an owl. I’m terrified to go pee after midnight. I keep snacks in my room. Also, a coffee machine. For midnight snacking. Because I’m terrified that the monster from Drag Me to Hell will get me. What with my terrible eating habits and sleep pattern and filterless mouth.Leave a comment any time of the day on my blog or Instagram and I’ll reply immediately. Even at ungodly hours.
Because I don’t sleep. At all.
And I also drink a lot of coffee. I had seven cups today. Which is what gave me the high I endured this morning. I know that one day my heart will explode and I’ll meet my Maker. Whatever.
But this morning, at around six ish am, I suddenly felt realy rather Christmassy and dug out a length of ribbon and tied a bow on my head. And sang into a hairbrush. (Mum was asleep through all the awful scratchy singing. Whew.) Unfortunately, my batty neighbor was up and she commented on my lovely singing while I was headed out to the park.
She said I made yowling cats and howling wolves sound melodious.
(Okay she didn’t mention that. I’m exaggerating. But she did say I was God-awful. Ouch.)
All this while I thought I was Lana del Rey, and now this. Way to burst my bubble, batty old grandma.