"Sanity and happiness are an impossible combination."*

   Good grief I’ve been lazy the last few weeks. I apologize. I’ve been in Omaha and you all know how that usually goes. See, in Omaha I have what is known by the general population as “A Social Life.” Since I don’t have much of one in Los Angeles, I have lots more time to write when I’m there. And since I don’t have much of one in Los Angeles, it is important to take full advantage of the one I have when I’m in Omaha. My life is really sad and pathetic. 

   Anyway, I’m going to ease back into blogging and not overwhelm your senses with my super insightful musings on life today. I have lots of pictures of stuff to show you from my last week in Omaha, but today I just want to share a couple from my bedroom.
   Here’s a book my parents bought me in junior high that makes me feel like laughing and sobbing at the same time. The title pretty much says it all:

   It's pretty clear that I wasn't feeling too happy in seventh grade and it's nice to know that my parents were doing what they could to cheer me up. Namely, buying me literature so I could read about how to get better. That's kind of the way we did things growing up at the Rouse House. You got a math problem? Here's a book about Algebra! You want to learn computer programming? I found a great book about DOS. You have a leg cramp? Here's a copy of Curing Your Leg Cramp for Dummies! I guess the theory is that most things can be fixed by doing the research. Thus the book on how to cure crippling sadness if seventh grade is sucking your will to live.
   But why was I so insecure? Because look: what's this bookmark?

 I'll show you what it is:

   It's my ribbon for First Honors. How could I have suffered from low self-esteem when my grades were so good? Could it have been the fact that my forehead, nose, and extremities were enormous and my hair was constantly greasy and I had gotten my period but not my boobs and there were constantly at least two zits on my chin and I could never be sure if my friends would still be my friends on any given day? I don't think that's enough to make a seventh grader sad: all junior high kids really care about is good grades, right?
   Still, it's nice to know that I read that book and all my problems were solved that very same year. (Coincidentally, this was also the year I began taking anti-depressants. But I'm pretty sure it was the book that turned things around.)
   Anyway, that's just one of the many treasures I've unearthed here in my parents' house in Omaha since I've been back. I will be updating on a more regular basis now that the holidays are essentially gone along with all my friends and my social life. 
   (Notice how much more cheerful a person I am nowadays?)

*The quote is from Mark Twain. I'm not sure what the implications are for my life...I guess I'm either insane and happy or sane and miserable? Most likely it's the former.