Oh, jiminy crickets. It's as hot as my booty in here. I think I'm like to die. We can't turn on the air conditioner, though, because I've strictly forbidden it, and to turn it on now would make me a hypocrite of the highest order, do you see? And you know, it seems like it would be good that I don't sweat, I mean, it's so ladylike and all, but it means there's no way for me to cool down, so my situation is as dire as a fire. I think I'm melting into a puddle of vanity and chapstick, in a suitably Wicked Witch of the West sort of way, and it's not a pleasant experience. I mean, really. I wish I were able to control the weather. Wouldn't that be something, now? I could make it snow on Ethan when he was least expecting it. Maybe I will google pictures of cold things and see if I can cool myself vicariously in that way.
Ooh! So, did you know the grouper fish can carry a potent dose of ciguatoxin, which makes cold things feel hot and hot things feel cold? That's a pretty cool ability, not gonna lie. Icy so many possibilities for it. It's almost enough to chill the blood in my veins, I mean snow big deal for the grouper if someone gets in its way. It freeze itself from all danger in a (cold) snap! It's such an unassuming-looking little thing, too. How poetic!
Oh dear, oh dear. Dad is having a hissy fit again. Why must he do these things? It makes everything so dratted problematic. Wellp, better accede to his wishes, or he'll be on us all night. He probably will be anyway, but at least now I can have the satisfaction of feeling like a martyr. Maybe some kind neo-Romanesque architect will build a lovely neo-Galla Placidia for me.
Ok bye now qurl lol
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