Is it just me or am I the only one who thinks that we should all boycott Tom Cruise's new movie, War of the Worlds? The man is insane. You're paying money to see a horribly insane man act ... HORRIBLY. I'm dumbstruck.

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His funeral was today and my eyes have never felt so heavy before in my entire life. I woke up with a stiff neck WHICH SUCKED LIKE A WHORE because as I was crying, relatives would grab me passionately to comfort me, turning my godforsaken stiff neck to the side and making me wince with agony. Sucked. Like. A. Whore.

The highlight of the funeral was my grandfather receiving a full-blown presidential police escort to Hawaii Memorial Cemetary. I felt really proud because a) These types of escorts in Hawaii are reserved for dignitaries and presidents and b) This caused a lot of heavy traffic and I know my grandfather is pleased with the fact that before he they put him down six feet under, he was able to fullfill his fantasy of pissing off half of the fucking island of Oahu. That was the kind of humor that he lived with and it was just a great way to honor him.

I'm so glad it's over. The house is quiet now, everyone's returned home, and I finally have my bed back. Life can pretty much go back to neutral from here.

I don't think the family will be contacting each other now that the last link of the entire clan has died. We all have nothing in common, and save for a few aunts and uncles, I just don't see a family reunion happening any time soon. And that's fine. Shit like this happens and I have other things to worry about. Like how to snag a job that gives me daily police escorts. Dude, that shit was tight.

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She is a ball of energy and I am the old pin to which she knocks down.

She is a faucet of running hyper and I am a drain. Take a long guess at how I feel...

She likes pretend fashion shows, blubber noises, cartoons, jumping, kicking, stretching, laughing, laughing harder, singing, joking, and candy.

I like sleep.

Needless to say, she has proven to me that I am not ready for a child and that it might be a while for me to get ready for one. In fact, I may never be ready. And that might be okay with me. That might make sense. Indeed.

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Last night, my family from the mainland arrived for my grandfather's funeral which is taking place this Friday. My seven-year-old cousin decided she'd sleep with me on our first night. I was fine with it up until she kicked me out of bed in the middle night. Now, usually, when someone takes up my part of the bed, I kick them and return to the spot that is rightfully mine. But I was feeling rather baffled here. It's not exactly nice to kick a seven year old when you want something from them. Confused on what I should do, I entered the living room, sat on my sofa, and sat there for a good couple of minutes trying to figure out how I was going to handle this situation. Well, perhaps I could just move her little body, I thought to myself. It shouldn't be that hard.

It was.

Not only was her limp body adamant on staying put, but I felt an unexpected guilt rush through me for trying to move her. It was like pushing away a flower. Who the fuck wants to be the one that pushes a flower away? So I was trapped. I gave in, took a little corner of the bed, and held on for my life.

Sadness. Even a seven year old can PWN me.

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Right now, I'm on my computer at work pretending to be doing something productive, though I'm sure my boss is in the know of what I'm up to. There's too many clickity clackity sounds coming from keyboard. Usually, I don't work hard enough to produce that many clickity clackity sounds. She sees right through me.

I'm still recooperating from the worst week ever. It seems like everything happened in one swoop. When I related the events of my worst week ever on enemy xanga, I only received 2 comments. One only entailed a period. Nice.

So, I figured I'd come here and boycott Xanga out of childish anger and envy. It's nice here. It's like a swank New York studio. Xanga is like ... the hunky-dory parts of Texas. Not that I'm aware if there is such a thing as hunky-dory parts in Texas, but everyone loves regional cliches.

I was almost caught. I should go.

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