Two days in a row! Does anyone even read this anymore?

Heeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyy dooooooooooodz.
Wanna read my blog? OF COURSE YOU DO. I hope that, if you even cared about this blog in the first place, you have forgiven me for my long absence. All I can say in my defense is that I'm incredibly lazy and busy when I'm not lazy (and when I am, usually).

On with teh postings. I'm teaching my cousin to play L's theme on a toy keyboard. Have you noticed that all of my recent posts involve my cousins and L? Explanation, if you want one: I'm at my cousins' house and I've been reading/watching Deathnote lately, in which L is my favorite character. But this is uninteresting, so I'll switch topics again in the hopes that one of them will hold your interest a little. If anyone comments, I might learn which topics to avoid and which ones to discuss if I ever want readers. Great. Awesome. I'm rambling again. I NEED TO QUIT THAT.

So. Have I ever mentioned that every time I read/watch/hear a good story, I become deeply attached to it until I find a better one, and usually not even then? My mind is built for geeky purposes. The first time I did this was when I read Harry Potter in first grade. I belonged to the story for the entire time it took for me to finish it. I still do, actually. It was my first taste of an actual good story. I have a freakish talent (if that's what you call it) for completely fixating on something. Except things that other people think are important, like school and cleaning my room before it becomes a mass of confusion and piles of random crap.

I'm still not being interesting, am I?
I could tell a story. It's not long or particularly good, but it has a bit of a point.

So you know how I said my mind fixates on stuff? It's not always books. When I was little, my friend and I were the most dramatic children ever. We constantly had theories (we are witches, her doll was secretly alive, etc) or were acting ridiculous for no reason. Once, we found a bench with packed dirt under it on the practice field. Our child logic said that there was no way the dirt was packed because people's feet were there all the time. There was obviously a trapdoor and possibly buried treasure and/or a dragon surrounded by skeletons. Did I mention we were obsessed with horror stories? And still are? Anyway, we dug with sticks for several days and got some more people to join us until we either found out that it was just dirt or a teacher told us to stop. I forget which. This has been the story of how my friend and my quest to find buried... I don't know what we expected so I'm calling it adventure... under a bench at recess. Teh endz.


PEACE. LOVE. BURIED ADVENTURE.
I may or may not be stalking you. Just FYI.
-Xenon