I could really get in to living on my own. I possibly might try it for a living. It's 100% stress free, on account of no one is breathing down your neck to do chores or clean something up or accomplish anything at all. Take yesterday, for example- I spent way more time then anyone ever should on a crossword puzzle, esspeically a puzzle of the "Super Fun 'n Easy" variety. I laid down in the hammok, while simotaneously beginning another crossword, and ate a cliff bar for lunch. Nobody asked "That's all your eating for lunch? There's some vegetables in the fridge. I'm making a salad, and then maybe I'll go work out and lift weights or run 10 miles and then complete an abs routine. Then I'll probably cancel all the sugar and fatty foods from my diet and eat nothing but herbs and ice water. Ice water burns calories, you know." Nobody whined about how there were dishes left out. I hate a mess of dishes as much as the next person- that's why, eventually, I'll get around to cleaning them up. And today? I scattered a mess of song chords all over the floor and left three guitars and a music stand out in the back room. And I STILL haven't cleaned them up! I also cooked shrimp and pasta without anyone reminding me that the shrimp was for spagetti sauce sometime and probably shouldn't have been halfway emptied and then refrozen. Which I did, in fact, and nothing has exploded. And I also emptied some icecream on to a cutting board and made a mess with grahm crackers and chocolate chips and blueberries. It was completely awesome and rewarding, and I'll probably do it again next time. That is, unless mother and father read this post, in which case there probably won't be a next time.

Today, I swatted a fly that was hovering over our kitchen stove. It flattened and fell into a boiling basin of whole wheat linguine. I fished it out with a wooden spoon and tossed it in the sink. Then I ate the linguine.

I'm usually pretty okay when it comes to being a planet friendly tree hugging vegetarians. I usually recycle (unless, of coarse, the paper bin is over 20 feet away- I mean, seriously) and I use both sides of my college ruled paper before tossing it, unless I've written with .5 lead, in which case I've pushed so hard that the opposite side of the paper is bumpy and therefore not available for future usage. But there's this new contraption that some other, more dedicated planet friendly tree hugging vegetarian has thought up, that I hate with a blind, vicious fury, comparable to Lord Voldemort after being yet again outsmarted by Harry in number four, or the White Witch spotting Aslan when she was so sure she'd done away with him on the stone table. But in this case, Aslan came in the form of the undoubtedly economical but extremely tedious blow-dry hand-dryers that are rapidly replacing every paper towel dispenser in the country. Now, after a good solid void a thorough hand washing is recommended, which would include lathering up with any variation of a St. Ives soap dispenser and cleansing your hands with lots and lots of water. Which, inevitably, would leave them dripping, begging tearfully for a cozy, dry paper towel of sorts to dry and warm them.

Enter a useless automatic hand dryer. Which leaves them unsatisfied and semi-sticky. And still wet.

And also, these things take a decade or two. Which is great if your a lonely grunting cavemen that has nothing else to do but make rabbit stew and dry his hands. But a happening teen, especially a teen in an airport bathroom five minutes before her plane blasts off really has no time for such nonsense. Especially if this teen is BRUSHING HER TEETH, in which case she is forced to dry her toothbrush under an automatic hand dryer before tossing it in her bag and hot footing it down to C4.

Above is a mugshot I picked up off google images.