Lent is over. Hallelujah. I ate lamb cake roughly two and a quarter minutes after groggily falling out of bed this morning.
It actually wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it would be. Usually when I give up sweets, I either enjoy them more than ever or I don’t even want to look at them. I feel the exact same way I did before Lent started – sugar-crazed and in a perpetual state of grossness. Maybe it’s because I cheated a little on the “no sweets” thing. I think mocha frappaccinos with the whip cream count as a dessert-esque food, and I devoured at least one a week. I also ate tiramisu one day because attractive Greek people at that attractive Greek restaurant made me. At least I’m slightly less likely to become a diabetic by age twenty-eight now.
This Easter was pretty good, though. I just like Easter. It has a good vibe. I mean, who doesn’t like bunnies? Oh, and I guess Jesus is cool, too. But my family has moved completely away from religious aspects of any holidays. I did watch The Ten Commandments. That’s enough, right? Sure it is.
That’s my tiny little family up there, sans me. I had a slightly better picture, but I wanted the one with my brother shoving pork in his face. It looks like a simple meal, but it was delicious. My mother’s sweet potatoes were divine. I didn’t eat as much as I would like to have, though. Halfway through the meal I started feeling violently ill. I don’t know if it was the five deviled eggs, the three Reeses bunnies, the twenty or so black olives, or the two and a half pieces of lamb cake that disrupted my insides, but it was definitely something unpleasant. I still shoved down another helping of ham and corn, though. Easter only comes once a year.
Did everyone have a good Easter? Or a good Sunday if you don’t celebrate it?
I’ve wanted another puppy since my last dog, Izzy, got past the puppy stage. I knew The Man (a.k.a. my father) would never support the idea since he didn’t even want Izzy. She was just a bribe to get me to cooperate during our second move. But I pestered him about it anyway. He never budged. I gave up.
Last week he suggested it might be nice to get another puppy. He probably didn’t expect my mom and I to start looking for one immediately, but we found one we wanted by Thursday and picked her up on Sunday.
Say hello to my little Juniper.
I asked for name suggestions on my Twitter and Myspace, and I received plenty of adorable ones like Twinky, Kokomo, and Zuri (my personal favorite). So why did we pick Juniper? It’s a strange name, and, well…we’re a strange family. Those other names are adorable, but something about Juniper just clicked with all of us.
She’s a miniature dachshund like Izzy, but she couldn’t be more different. When Izzy was a puppy, she was calm during the day and would bark all night. Junie is super hyper all day but usually sleeps through the night. At the moment Junie is more of a handful to me than Izzy was. I was never the one who would have to clean up Izzy’s explosive diarhhea at night, but I’m the daytime watchman for Junie. She wants to chew everything and never wants to play by herself. It doesn’t help that my other two dogs are acting like jealous brats.
Despite all that, I already love her. She’s an absolute peach when she’s behaving. By the time I’m back in school she should be pretty well-trained and less of a hassle. If she’s not, I’ll probably have to curl up in the fetal position and cry a little every day after school. I may end up doing that anyway, but we’ll get to that when the time comes.
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