I like scotch. Scotch, scotch, scotch. Down in my belly...

It's what every young person dreams. To leagally inhibit yourself with a liquid that has been reffered to in past ages as firewater, the devil's liquid and 'Wow that really burned going down, tasted horrible and I really don't like it but I've been told that REAL adults drink this and it is cool and sophisticated, wait I feel like I am going to puke, blah...'

That's right people, I turn 21 in 2.5 weeks. It's exciting. For those of you who care and want to get me something for my birthday (Oct. 5) you can go to ikea or some place similiar and get me an item for my new room. For those of you who can and want to know my mom's business of 9 years is finally moving out of the house to an office in Wheaton. This means that a. I can have a large room that I will treat as an apartment, b. I can be myself* and c. I have a dirty clothes room not a hamper. Nice.


*Meaning I can leave my crap everywhere with no one to really see it.