When life gives you lemons...

Everyone has weird stories about when they were a little kid. Right? Getting your tongue stuck to a frozen pole. Eating butter straight. Wearing shoes shaped like frogs. Eating an entire cake. Killing a fish. Drinking Windex. So, basically, all little kids are known to be weird, odd, zany, in some way. For instance, when I was a little kid...

• I ate lemons slices, the kind you get on the side of your water glass at restaurants, rind and all.

• I crawled after my poor evil cat named Elliot shouting "Ayeeyee!" and trying to pull his tail because I could not prounounce Elliot or get him to play with me.

• I insisted on having an Ariel-themed birthday party to the point where my mother had to get a red-haired Barbie doll and put her in the cake, and have the cake people put a frosting tail on her. A few months later, Ariel Barbie dolls-with tails-were available everywhere. Inescapable.

• ...I got one of those, too, eventually.
• I hobbled around in a mermaid tail costume trying to be Ariel and not walk like a normal human, probably resulting in looking like some kind of poor snake or worm spazzing out on the floor.

• I insisted on playing Spy with my Barbies instead of Prom...the Corvette was the getaway car, the house was headquarters, and the hotel was the evil guy's lair.

• I didn't have any idea how to do my first ballet recital without the tape on the floor that marks where your feet are supposed to go...

• ...I proceeded to ruin it by following the teacher around for the duration of the recital, shreiking, "Where's my tape?!???" and someone really should have gotten it on video because I'm positive it was hilarious.
• I was obsessed with a French-Japanese cartoon syndicated into American television called Code Lyoko, about kids fighting an evil super computer named Xana, and I watched every single episode, played the theme song in three different languages and five different versions and made up dances to all of them constantly, and named all of my stuffed animals after the characters.

Needless to say, my childhood was interesting, to say the least. I never know how to end these posts, so here's a picture of Code Lyoko:

Sorry. It's a boring post. But it has good intentions.

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The Pathetic Mutated Hot Dog (Bun?)

Today, I woke up, as usual, around that time where you don't know whether to eat breakfast or lunch. If you eat breakfast, you'll have to wait a while before you can eat lunch and by then it'll be halfway between lunchtime and dinner and your whole eating schedule will be messed up for days. But if you eat lunch, then you'll be hungry for dinner early and your whole eating schedule will be messed up for days! But today, it didn't matter too much. Today, my eating schedule was already messed up, I was hungry, and I decided to eat lunch, because I was too hungry for breakfast. The only lunch food we had were hot dogs. No problem! I love hot dogs!  None of that matters, because I wanted a hot dog. But soon, the problem announced itself...in the form of a lack of hot dog buns. We had bread, bagels, English muffins, hamburger buns, sub rolls, but no hot dog buns. I immediately scrambled to come up with a solution.

English muffins! Two would fit around a hot dog perfectly. But they had to be toasted, and I was too impatient to wait for the toaster.

Sub roll! One was about the length of a hot dog and would easily substitute for a hot dog bun...until I realized it was rock hard and would probably damage my teeth and braces more than they already were, and since I hate the dentist and orthodontist with a passion, they were out.

Bread! All was well and good with that one...until I realized I had to peel off the crust, because I hate bread crust with a passion as well. The bread got torn in half and I finally gave up because it was getting squished together and mushy and gross.

This left me with only one option. The hamburger buns. I silently resigned myself to defeat and decided I would half to layer one slightly over the other to create a sad, sorry, pathetic psuedo-hot dog bun. It was shaped like a lopsided oval. The hot dog seemed to stare back up at me, protesting, begging to understand why I would dare subject it to such a mutation. Matters only got worse when I managed to squirt ketchup all over the edges of the pseudo-bun instead of the actual  hot dog, and when I squeezed out the mustard, all the water top stuff came out first. So, all in all, it was a pretty sorry looking hot dog indeed.

But anyway...it still tasted like a hot dog. Except I had to stuff a bunch of excess bun bread in my mouth with every tiny little morsel of hot dog meat. And there was too much ketchup. And mustard fluid. Okay, so it wasn't a very good hot dog either. But at least I got my lunch. I don't have a very clever or funny way to end this post so...here's a real picture of the pathetic mutated hot dog:

Two Posts in One Day! It's The Apocalypse!

I never know how to start blog posts. So I guess I'm just going to start talking (er...typing) and hope someone tunes in eventually. So this is my first post of the day, basically to say:

• I'm NEW here! That's why there's only a few posts!
• I don't have any readers:( I'm probably talking to no one! HI no one!!!!
• If anyone magically starts reading this, feel free to tell me: should I keep the coffee background? I feel like it reminds me to much of a cafe...but that might just be because I constantly want coffee. Opinions of the random nonexistant readers? THANKS! :D

If you're wondering why two posts in one day is the apocalypse...well, I have two reasons:

1. I procrastinate. A lot. I never get things done or remember to post anything. Definitely not everyday. Maybe once a month. So two posts in a day? It's really crazy. I can feel the world crashing around as I speak. Er...type.
2. Once upon a time....my crazy, hyper best friend used to say "It's the apocalypse!" in response to EVERYTHING strange that ever happened. She wore a dress? It was the apocalypse. I got up before 12 noon on Saturday? Apocalypse. Eventually, we started using the term way too often, and it burned out almost completely. But occasionally, we'll come up with the perfect opportunity, get almost giddy with the anticipation of bringing our phrase back to life...and it gets wasted on something like this title where no one will ever see it! The end.

The Weebly Crisis That Drove Me Here

A Really Terrible Story:
Once upon a time, I had a website on Weebly. It was called Nocturnal and Neurotic, and it was really depressing. Then I got more optimistic and changed the name to A Light In The Dark, but the website didn't change much. It was still depressing. Then one day...Weebly crashed. And kept crashing. And I lost my website. And it kind of sucked. So, here I am!!!! With a whole new empty blog! Caffeine Corrupted. I wanted to name it Purple Popsicles, but apparently that name is already taken. By a parenting blog. I don't know what parenting has to do with purple popsicles, but I really wish I had a purple popsicle right now. 

I know, I know. Brilliant, right? My story-telling skills are amazing. Try to breathe. Seriously. Since I am bored and out of stimuli for any kind of blog-writing at all right now, and in SERIOUS need of caffeine of some sort (hence my blog name), I'm just going to copy and paste some entries from the dead website. I'm going to go find coffee or something...have a great day! Or if it ends up awkward instead, you can take advantage of The Awkward Situation Survival Guide here.