Vacation Smells Like Hamantaschen

What's Playing in My Ear: "Happiness"-Arashi
VACATION RULES. PERIOD.
I get to sleep in, stay up late, bake whenever I want, and write to my heart's desire....right?
WRONG.
I get to clean and organize the pantry, write my i-Search, clean my room, fix the dressers, and put up with dear old mum and dad for a whole week straight.
Fabulous.
Well, at least Purim was awesome. Jonas Brothers costumes were the best ones I've ever made yet. One of my more brilliant ideas, if I do say so myself. (Except for the part where every pre-teen and, even teenage, girl in the shul commenced to chase us down for pictures.) Not one of my more brilliant ideas.
Well, it was fun nonetheless, my brother was home, I spent some time with the community, I made fun of my least favorite boy band, hung out with old friends, and I got to eat triangular pastries filled with jam.
What could be better?
Mum's agreed to give another try at teaching me to cook over vacation, so I'm a little excited about that prospect. Although, most of my cooking attempts were not as successful as I'd hoped. We had the onigiri incident, the snow peas accident, and nobody could forget the ginger snaps FROM HELL.
Let's hope I've lost my accident-prone streak in the kitchen.
Needless to say, all this craziness leaves little room for getting anything done that I honestly want to accomplish, but I can't expect too much from myself. All I really want is a bit of R & R, a chance to recharge from all the insanity that's been happening to me lately.
I just can't take any more freaking snow. I'm going insane. I need some natural scenery. One of these days I'm going to take a blowtorch to all the white stuff and just melt all of it.
I'm not kidding. A blowtorch.