1-1-11

Dudes.  I'm really only here so that my mom knows that I haven't died.  Though, really, I feel like I might.  That's right, I majored in drama.  Thing is, I'm ill, and not in a way that I can blame on New Year's champagne anything, but in a way that totally isn't my fault and deserves all kinds of sympathy.  I don't even feel like eating, which is, like, my favorite so you can imagine how serious the situation is.  If my mom were here I'm quite certain she'd make me drink warm Jell-O water and I'd feel better in a flash, but they don't have Jello-O here, nor do they have my mom, nor would I touch un-set Jello-O with a ten-foot pole now that I have the will of an adult, but still.  Okay, The Swede just said I smell like an old travel trailer that no human has lived in since '77 and is inhabited by cats, so I'm going to go take a shower.  NOT.  Hopefully I'll see you on nicer terms tomorrow.  Happy New Year, at any rate!