Awww, I miss you too! 8'D (that was a happy crying smiley face ^_^)
It's okay now, I told my dad and my dad told my mom and she apologized.
It's okee, I'll say. I take singing lessons, but I hate them, but my mom makes me keep taking them (my voices cracks and the fact that I sing so low always bothers me). She made me practice for a long period of time, and when I was done, she said to do them again. I teared up, and she told me to grow up. I did them again and went upstairs. My mom claimed that she didn't hear me practicing so I wasn't doing good enough. I started crying and babbling about how hard it was, and she was like: "Stop it, Mira!"
But I didn't stop until my dad came. :3

Now it's all good, though. :D

Meh. Piano is enough for me. ><

And now, my own gripes. /start rant/
It will never fail to amaze me, the power of a few well-placed words, words that maybe weren't intended to hurt--initially--but stung like a crazed wasp all the same. Mom.... "You're on the computer all the time." Way to state the obvious, sweetheart. Not all the time, technically speaking. A girl's gotta eat, sleep, other stuff that doesn't involve her laptop. It did kind of hurt, all those droppings of non-gentle-hints. "We should really restrict your computer time." "Now that the internet's back, I guess we'll know what Heather's doing for the rest of her days." And here comes my dad, undoubtedly going to scold and say "Time for bed," although whether it's those words that will fall from his mouth or a variation only he knows until they are spoken. But back to my mother. The most recent incident of le-not-so-gentle-why-don't-you-just-sledgehammer-my-computer-and-have-done-with-it-hints has done down with the worst insult--well, one of the worst--imaginable.
"You used to read."
Let me emphasize certain points of that phrase.
"You used to read."
HA! HA! HAHAHA! HAHAHAHA! What are you talking about, O Mother Dearest? What do you think I do on my computer, play games? HARDLY. Why do you think I go on my computer? TO READ. Why do I bring books to camp? TO READ. Why do I tell you what time it is when you ask? I can READ a clock. Seriously. And it takes a fair amount of willpower to not reply back with a saucy comment that would get my computer time limits sledgehammered and possibly taken away. But the fact is, I DO READ. I open Word documents, I go over my work, I write a little more. I read books like The Elegance of the Hedgehog, which is the most profoundly beautiful book in existence, and I don't expect all people to understand. And most don't. Here, I've found a website, a refuge, call it what you will. And I don't do 'used to read'. I DO read, it's not a thing of the past, I would die if I were to suddenly become illiterate and couldn't even learn to read again. It would be a horrible thing. I pride myself on my editing, my writing, my reading. It's one of the things that separates me from others and unites me with others still. I don't think my mother meant it that much. That doesn't stop the burn from aching, a gaping wound in my heart that because I did not speak up, will never rest with a salve of 'sorry' or a bandage of repentance. /end rant/
Sorry... I had to get that out.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PT1_PpS_4Yo I need this right now, maybe you do, too. :3

OHMYGOD, THANK YOU.
*tears up* :D

I am coming to your show this session, so see you there? (:

*dreams* A hot bath....... haven't had one of those in almost two years :3

O_O

Poor child...

HAVE A BATH.

My dad hardly lets me take baths, only showers. Apparently I'm wasting water...
But I had one when I was sunburnt. A COLD one.

KYLA!!!!!!
We couldn't find you at the Fun Fair and spent an hour and a half looking for you until my toes are all blistered just because you went off to find chopsticks for a bowl of noodles you dumped because they were too limp!
You made me waste $100 of the tickets just because of our search for you! Luckily it was HKD!
We had the intercom call you.
You didn't even ask ANYONE so you could call your mother, who could've called me.
Oh well, I bet you don't even know your mum's number anyway. Since you don't even know your address.
Ah, but having you being Marco at Marco Polo paid off. And you docilely listened to my mental verbal torturings and didn't say much...so I forgive you-ish.

I really don't want to go to school tomorrow. DX