Angels and Cowboys

O, Woman! in our hours of ease,
Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,
And variable as the shade
By the light quivering aspen made;
When pain and anguish wring the brow,
A ministering angel thou!

Yeah, right. Excuse me while I die laughing. Walter, darling, you should have met my mom. She is awesome in many ways, and incredibly cool, but when pain and anguish wring the brow, she's more likely to cut my pocket money (which is what she said she'd do when I told her I swallowed a coin.) than minister angelically. Like today, when I told her I'd hit my head on the rear view mirror twice, confidently expecting comfort and sympathy. She said, "Didn't you find anything better to hit your head on? Now I can't see anything behind." Or like the time my sister slipped and actually fell into an Indian toilet. That is a fate worse than death, and when she went howling to my mother, my aged relative said, "You'd better not have damaged the bowl." So yeah, in some ways we were brought up tough. But she did stay with me sleepless for nights together when I had typhoid, and calm me down during the nerve-wracking spasms of pain I experienced after I cracked a bone in my vertebral column (that's a fun story, remind me to tell it to you sometime), so I guess I don't have much cause to complain.

Hey y'all how's it going? We were celebrating my best friend Irene's birthday today so she, Nathasha, my other best friend, and I went to Millers 46 for steak. It was a good time, even though we were dressed like we were going clubbing and all the people in the restaurant who had got the memo about casual clothes stared at us like we were idiots. Millers 46 is cowboy themed, so if you like plastic horses watching you while you eat, it is the place to be. Also there's a downstairs section where although the sign on the door clearly says "Closed. Screw you. Go eat upstairs" (something like that), there's people inside eating! What is that, like the elite floor where only the cool people can eat? Well, fine! Be that way! We didn't want to eat there anyway. Even if the wooden rocking horses with actual badass saddles are in there (*sob sob* why didn't you people let us in?!). I eat my steak 'well done' by the way, because I'm a chicken, and one of my friends told me that blood is what gives 'medium rare' the flavour. Is that true? If that's true, ew. If it's not, then I spent my evening sawing at a hunk of beek as tough as a chair for no reason. I will be pissed and there will be consequences.

It was nice being with the two of them again after so long. We're in different colleges now, which is weird. Nathasha's in some halli school (not really, it just seriously pisses her off when I say that, which is why I have to say it all the time) and Irene's in an all-girls academy, where extra-curriculars are important. Celebration is a foreign concept in Clarence, so this is hard for me to understand. It's strange and slightly sad that we no longer have everything in common. Speaking of having things in common, Irene almost bought the same dress I own to wear for tonight's dinner. I stopped her just in time. Had she bought it we'd have had to fight to the death gladiator style for the privilege of wearing it, and it would be a shame to turn her inside out and make her swallow herself on her birthday. Thankfully, the crisis was averted by me sending her around a hundred and six messages going: "DON'T BUY IT DON'T BUY IT DON'T BUY IT DON'T BUY IT." I was so shaken that I was not only texting this to her, I was also screaming it at the phone to communicate my point better. Unfortunately the room was filled with family at the time. This is why my cousins don't come over that often. Oh well, they knew I was insane anyway.

Sleepy time for the Science student. I have to wake up at six tomorrow. If you get to wake up later than I do, point at the screen and laugh. Go ahead. JUST DO IT YOU LUCKY IDIOTS. Sweet dreams xoxoxo

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