HEROINE!

No, my dear readers, I've not been giving myself nasty injections and doing what I shouldn't have, I can assure you, I'm doing perfectly fine.
That's 'Heroin' and that's BAD.

So recently, I've been quite busy, as anyone who's been anxiously reading and waiting for any new posts could tell you (except that they don't actually exist... bummer...)

But I've done quite a lot that needs to be properly documented.
Like this lovely legend of my heroic awesomeness:

The Day I Saved my Entire Family from a Fiery Death:
Once upon a time, there existed such nasty things as online calculus classes. Children, that's what we call torture. Anyway, there was once a happier time in which I, being a very ambitious adolescent, decided that because of school scheduling difficulties, would take this route of self-education. That is what we call a mistake.
*clears throat as if to begin telling some awe-inspiring story* oh wait... that's exactly what I am doing... huh.

So! I was using this very same computer at which I sit now, finding derivatives and anti derivatives of equations (very fun stuff) and lo and behold, my dog walked in, pushing open the door. The room immediately filled with a most befouling stench. Somewhat troubled by the thought of my own home smelling so, I walked out into the hallway and into the kitchen, following a good deal of smoke. 
Just a side note here, smoke is almost always a bad sign... in your house anyway, I mean campfires emit smoke and those are cool, but that's completely different....
So I follow the smoke and find that it's billowing out of the oven.
(Oh ya, and by the way, at this point, I was in a spanish imersion block... so I wasn't really supposed to speak any english... to anyone... at all...)
I threw open the oven and found my dear mother's pumpkin seeds (probably my favorite snack item ever) on fire. In that moment, I decided to abandon the use of spanish temporarily and I ran to my parents. I informed my mother of the fire and she was a little bit panicked... as people should rightly be at this point.
My parents rushed in and I'd like to say that I smartly doused the flames with baking soda myself, but I can't(as that would be lying, and we all know where liars go--into politics [just kidding, please nobody come and egg my house.])
My ingenious father grabbed the baking soda and poured it over the flaming seeds of fiery wrath and my frazzled mother took the pan outside.

So there's the story, I single handedly (more or less) saved potentially my entire house--maybe neighborhood--possibly even city from the dangers of fire. You can just call me smokey the bear, fireman sam, girl of your dreams, etc... the list goes on and on.

I'm sure that was probably the most exciting read of the day for you, possibly even the whole month if you're not all that literate...

You're welcome.
____________ (signature in invisible ink)