7

I like that title; it was a mistake when I was typing something else and suddenly it popped back to this window cuz it finished loading, but in high school we always used to say that the answer was either 7 or C, and I've been thinking about high school a lot lately so I'm gonna leave it.

Why high school? No idea. Maybe because it's time for summer break and I don't get one. People keep telling me that they're back home, my ex-boyfriend just got married (that's the second one to do that . . . that only leaves me with one single ex-boyfriend, and he hardly counts because he's younger than I am anyway) . . . and I decided I'm out of shape and miss my high school days of being in very good shape . . . which reminds me, I'm actually sore from organized PC today, which is weird. Derek led it and he made us do "leg throws," which are one of my most hated exercises. Or they were until yesterday, anyway, when "oblique crunches" blew them out of the water. I don't dislike them because they're hard; leg throws are tough but not killer and oblique crunches I could get used to. It's the sheer lack of dignity involved in both of those exercises.

My partner for "leg throws" was Michaela . . . she's one of the most talked-about girls here, because she looks like a Barbie doll and is actually a nice person. (Not that most of the talkers really care if she's nice or not. Pigs.) So I actually DID the throws, which is weird because I'm a lazy bum, but she did them the whole time so I felt kind of obligated to. At the same time, I felt even dumber about them than ever because of her seemingly perfect poise all the time. People like that make me feel big and clumsy and plain, even though I'm not that big or really that clumsy. After leg throws, Derek announced "oblique crunches" as the next exercise, and then had to explain what that meant. Lie on your side on the ground and then . . . do sideways sit-ups? (I was watching him and he didn't do them very well either.) So we all lie down and start trying to do this exercise, and I just started laughing. "I don't think it's working," I said, because mostly I was just falling over. "I feel like a fish," said Michaela, because we were all just lying there flopping. It really didn't work very well. And then we had to roll over and do them on the other side, too, which worked even less.

But I actually did all the running at PC yesterday . . . and I'm supposed to work out with Sarah today, since we don't have PC . . . we'll see how much working out actually gets done, but at least there's a plan. I was supposed to work out with Tasia this morning at 0500, but I woke up at 0445 and thought about having to walk down to the car in the lower parking lot and drive it over and put on gym clothes and I just decided I really didn't feel like it. So I sent Tasia a text at about 0445.30 saying "I'm not going" and still don't know if she did or not.

Speaking of texts, I got a very long voicemail from my mother yesterday. (I think I probably won't make it a point to tell her that I didn't answer my phone because I was in a pub and couldn't hear it.) It said "blah blah . . . Coming back from Anchorage with Emily . . . going wedding dress shopping . . . blah blah . . . your last phone bill . . . $300 . . . Dad's pretty mad . . . I was freaked out . . . think I put it in the burn pile . . . not sure how to pay it now . . . my own problem . . . hope I figure it out in time . . . blah blah . . . " (Those aren't disrespectful, "this-is-garbage" kinds of blah blah's; they're "I don't really remember the chit-chatty parts but I saved it so I can listen again" blah blah's.)

I could've sworn I told her awhile ago to have my phone bills sent here . . . maybe she just likes to keep track of who I'm talking to. (Eee . . . ) I need a new phone. I'm intending to get one this weekend, but . . . we'll see. I'm also intending to go get pedicured with Sarah this weekend, but we'll see on that, too. I mean, it's The Plan, but plans with me and Sarah are slightly softer than stone these days. And by that I mean that I can't necessarily count on them until they're already over. Which is a bummer, because it means that anticipation is necessarily 없이. That sorta sucks. I can't get all excited looking forward to getting my nails done (not that I really would . . . but it's the principle . . . ) because if I do, and then it doesn't happen, I'll be ludicrously pissed off and hurt. (Yes . . . ludicrously . . . "Sir, they've gone plaid!" As have I . . . )