Friday notes.

Here are a few notes that aren't at all related to each other.

-----

Yesterday one of my nieces was watching television. The news was on, and I don't remember what story they were talking about, but it was a serious story. It was about a carjacking or a car accident, something along those lines.

My niece started laughing. She was cracking up like she just saw the funniest thing she ever saw.

Um, okay?

She did it a few more times, then I got down on the floor on her level to see what was so funny.

She was laughing at the fan in front of her.

This kid rocks. They both rock, actually.

-----

I have the gift of being lactose intolerant.

I have little use for pizza (even though I eat it sometimes), I hate a certain restaurant that has buttermilk pancakes, and I have to be careful with things like cheese and butter.

Even bread has milk in it, people. This is ridiculous.

I decided to buy some pudding that comes in a box, thinking I could just add soy milk to it.

Imagine my surprise when I read the back of the box, after I spent $3 on three of them:

In case you can't read it, it says "Note: Pudding will not set if made with soy milk."

Why isn't that written in bold letters on the front of the box?

Does God hate me?

I refuse to let my $3 investment go to waste. I made the pudding with soy milk anyway (like a total rebel) and then I discovered the box was right.

I had pudding soup on my hands.

I tried to think of ways to make it thick. I whipped it more, to no avail. Then I thought, I could freeze it! After a while in the freezer, I took it out.

I mixed it up again, and it was acceptable.

It was acceptable ice pudding. It has a weird texture to it, but sometimes you just have to make do with what you've got.

To all of those who can eat and drink milk products with no major consequences, I hate you all.

-----

One of the things I'm really worried about is a trip I have coming up next week. This trip requires me to put on my grown up pants and fly across the country by myself.

By myself!

I can handle the airport that I'm flying out of. I've been there before and it's not that big or overwhelming. What makes me want to ship my pants, though,  is my short layover in Atlanta.

Atlanta!

I'm pretty sure I won't die, but I have this anxiety-ridden thought in my head that I'm going to get on the wrong airplane and end up in a prison camp in North Korea.

Sigh.

Another thing I'm really worried about regarding this trip is packing. Anyone who has ever traveled with me knows that I'm not exactly a light packer.

I went to Nebraska last week and stayed one night in a hotel room. I think I had four or five bags and things to carry into the room, plus I lost my car keys and my mind in the process.

I have no idea how I'm going to live for eight days (a combined total of eight days over two trips) out of one single suitcase. And since I'm going to be around people, as opposed to being in a car and hotel room by myself, I'm going to have to pretend like I know what I'm doing.

I don't.

If someone could teach me how to be a grown up, I would appreciate it. I need lessons in flying solo and packing.

Thanks!