randomness

I need to stop going to bed so late. I love enjoying coffee in the evening though, which wholly sucks considering well-chosen bedtime hours. I've become such an owl, and probably a lazy bum to other members in the family everytime they barge in the only private quarters I have to find me napping.

I often wonder about the patheticness of blogging. It's such a trend amongst the net-savvy it seems. Everyone does it, everyone tends to sound just as lame, oVeRly cHaRaCtErIsTiClY t33naGe, and whatnot, save for those interesting writers that radiate a sense of wanting to sound as interesting as they when they'd probably say "bug off, poser" or something in response. You want to express yourself but you don't quite care to over expose yourself, yet you do it, you blog, anyway. It sounds almost superficial just to blog for the sake of blogging, but there's always an underlying feeling- either lamely depressing, deficient, or insecure- prompting you to post something, whatever's on your mind.

Whatever these praline, walnuts, buttermilk, sugarsugar cookie-looking things are, they're good. Only, I'm also having interests in becoming a health freak. Go figure.