My dad has started to begin his e-mails to me with "Dear Scarface".

You know there is something wrong with the world if a girl can't go on an innocent sleepwalking adventure.

Seriously though folks, sleepwalking = bad. Just letting you know.

That's right... In my "what the..." moment of the week I found myself waking up from a nap not in my bed but sitting on the floor with my electric keyboard crashed down in front of me and a not so pretty - or small - cut on my face.

Naturally I handled this with complete maturity - either that or I proceeded to completely freak out. You can decide which.

Now I am trying to think up cool stories to tell people about how I got the cut on my face but none of the seem to be more wild than the real one. Any suggestions?

Oh and, if you were curious, I did manage to sing this weekend, though it wasn't exactly pretty. Of course, since when was my singing pretty?