Dear parental units,

I think you are great. Also, I am excited to see you on Saturday. Also, I really like it when you drive, dad. Because nobody asks me for directions and I know that if we die it is definitely because God wants us to and not cause we are driving weird. (Unless you are reading your email, which you never do anymore *cough* because Mom made you promise, right?) Also, be really glad I don't live above your ceiling anymore because I can't sleep and we all know that when I can't sleep it is usually because the spirit has called me to war against the forces of uncleanliness, and I inevitably go to, wielding as my sabre a vacuum wand. Although I am now in college, the spirit still moves me to irrational action in all sorts of wee hours of the morning and I can't clean but gee do I write my best essays at three am. Which is also loud because I type quite forcefully when I get excited, which I always do while I am writing essays, which is because I am sort of an odd duck that way. Can you tell, dearest mom, that it is super late/early? Can't sleep (thank you, diet coke), but I am also feeling slightly loopy. long story short, I like you guys. Make saturday come faster, okay dad? Don't even try to make excuses, because we all know you are superman. You can't hide the talent. Just like I can't hide the sleep deprivation. So Goodnight.

Love,
Your caffeine/ finals crazed daughter