I was looking through google news, as I do every day. And I noticed some articles on a study showing lack of sleep linking to the common cold. I was going to just click on the Washington Post article, but I noticed there was a Minneapolis Star Tribune article. I find the local newspaper to be rather amusing. It just seems so... I don't know. Immature? I'm not really sure what the right word for it is... I just find many of it's articles to be highly entertaining.

Now, most of the time, I do not read commentts. I make a point not to. I know I'm otherwise just going to want to kill people. But I accidentally scrolled too far (wow, that sounds like such a lame excuse when I see it written down).... and I saw the first comment on there. And I just... I don't even know.

"This is totally crazy"
"We are in Minnesota!! We love accordians. And, we play them in the AM, mid day, night, and more."

What. The hell. How does that have ANYTHING to do with the article!?
And the best part is... 5 of 5 people liked the comment.
Somebody, please tell me why I moved here. -face/palm-

The article, if you're interested.

2am. It's one of Willow's favorite times to be a major pain in the ass. A couple days ago, around said time, she starts yowling her head off.
Meow! Meeeow! Meeoowwr! MREOWRAWR!
I try to ignore it. I'm exhausted. And I already had to get up an hour ago to find my way downstairs so I could get water. Some nights here are really bad... I wake up in the middle of the night and my mouth is so dry, it hurts.
MREOWR! MRRRRROW! MEOWR!
I put a pillow on my head and pull up the blankets. She'll shut up soon.
MRRRREW! MROW! MEEEEEWR! MREEOWR!
She's starting to sound more sad and upset. So, I push the blankets and the pillow off, and fall out of get out of bed. I wander sleepily out of my room and into the dark hallway. I wait for eyes to adjust a little bit so that I don't have to turn on the light and risk waking my parents up. Then, I look around and see my cat... with her head stuck in my parents' bedroom door. She can't move forward. And she can't move back. I really couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry...

I have a less funny story, too... but it's too long to write up right now...

[06:53PM] Chad: wuzzuuuup
[06:53PM] Me: uhh... the ceiling.
[06:53PM] Me: ... yo. >_>

We went to go see a taping of So You Think You Can Dance today. It was my aunt Maiya's first taping. We got there at around 3:00 and got to the next round of waiting areas at around 3:35. Sometime while waiting, I remembered I hadn't eaten since 11:00. I kind of shrugged it off, though. We were let in at around 5:30 for the 2 hour taping. While we were waiting for the judges to come take their seats, the MC got one girl and one guy from the audience to come up and dance. The style for the first round was "old-school disco". The guy reminded me of Chris D (someone from my theatre group), especially since he ripped off his jacket and threw it on the ground before he started dancing like he was all that. Which... he... wasn't. He was weird looking. Kind of like Chris D.

Anyway... the second round was hip-hop. And the guy totally killed it. I felt so sorry for the girl 'cause he was totally stealing the stage. I think Jaymie should've been there. That would've been a MUCH better competition. LOL! The third round was really kind of... horrifying. They had one mom and one dad come up and do "new-school" to "Hot In Herre". Yeeaaah...... 'nuff said.

So that all ended without anyone dying (namely me, my mom, and Maiya), the judges came out, the dancing started, and everything seemed to be going fine and dandy... and then I started feeling dizzy. I told my mom and she asked if I needed to leave or sit down. Me, being the stubborn person I am when it comes to being sick, kept saying "no" and "I don't know" and "I'm fine", up until the point I was collapsing into my mom's arms, saying, "I NEED to sit down NOW." There were black spots, and then I felt myself being dragged across the floor. When I could see again, my head was in my mom's lap and there was a paramedic all up in my face. Mia Michaels (one of the choreographers) kept leaning over to ask if I was okay. Nigel Lythgoe (one of the judges/executive producer) kept calling other paramedics and doctors out of the audience. They took my blood pressure, checked my pulse, gave me an oxygen mask (which was kind of unpleasant... but at least the air in it was relatively cooling), etc. By the 20th time people were asking me how I was, I just started responding with "I'm stressed", even though, what I really wanted to do was to chuck the oxygen mask at them (but.. the cool air! It was kind of like just sitting in front of the AC vent with your face up against it! Awesome, yeah?). They finally let me stand up and walked me over to a room in the back, where yet another paramedic questioned me a bunch and tested my blood pressure and all that crap. They finally fed and watered me and then drove us to the edge of the lot so we could go to our car.

So yeah. I fail. Whoop-dee-doo.