Her Majesty's Blurty

Subject:	Donut Convention
Time:	2:00 am.

I weighed myself again today, and what do you know... I am well beyond "comfortably" under the x20 pound mark. Try x11, sucker. Imagine the shock I would have gotten if I'd waited until next weekend!

In other news, I'm currently re-re-reading The Lovely Bones. The movie is set to come out soon (IMDB says it came out on the 11th, but we'll have to wait and see what that means in real-people's timelines). I love it now even more than I did way back when, now that I'm able to appreciate good writing and all. This is the type of writing that Stephenie Meyers fans need shoved in their faces. I'm really excited about the film too, even though it's bound to be lacking somewhere. It looks beautiful, that's for sure, and they couldn't have cast a better Susie. I love how film adaptations always make it so much easier to visualize a text for me; it's the casting more than anything that makes the difference. Such concreteness is helpful in making those people real people. I remember when reading Emma that I was struggling to keep all the characters straight and, well, interesting, and I told myself I had to read it before I saw the movie, so that couldn't help. Plus I simply refused to make Gwyneth my Emma. Yech. Finally I sat down and decided it for myself: Emma was alternately Lizzy from A&E P&P, Jane from same, and Anne Hathaway, and Mr. Knightly I think ended up being Mr. Darcy or perhaps Snape. Anyway, it worked. I still hated the book, but by golly was it easier to read. Anyway, back to The Lovely Bones. Now that I see someone else's idea of Susie and found her down to earth (ha) and appealing, I've come to enjoy her more as a character. I don't know what I'm saying. My God I'm tired.

Squirt doesn't get to come home until Monday at the earliest, and I miss her constantly. I keep thinking I hear her scratch the bathroom door or whine or snore, and yes, I secretly love all those things, so it's been hard. Come home, Woorty Woort, come home. I can't wait to pick her up :)

Today was the big mouse day in our house, if you hadn't gathered. I found gnaw marks in the bag of puppy chow I've been eating out of for two days. We've been tearing the house apart since. Mom did an overhaul of the kitchen, and Dad and I went to Wal-Mart to get some mouse traps/poison and some rubbermaid containers so I could box up my stuff in the basement and not want to gag thinking about what else might be in there. We also bought a new dog dish and dog dish mat as a bit of a treat to us all :) I made sure to keep the red heart worm sticker I put on Squirt's dish all those years ago though (note to self: fish it out of Alaskan fish shot glass and put in safe place).

Dad and I had BK tonight. It was awesome.

FRENCH FRIES.

Oh, and TK has been getting in contact with me again lately. How very friendly.

I'm tired and want to go to bed and want to read but don't want to go to bed because when I wake up I'll have to do eight miles but at the same time I want to go to bed so I can see Squirt faster but at the same time I am afraid to go to bed because of a fucking MOUSE.

Who can I talk to about scoring some choice antibiotics around here? My gums are swollen. Gee-reat.

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Subject:	It's not everyday somebody moves into a new house.
Time:	11:41 pm.
Mood:	distressed.

I know, it's been awhile hasn't it. Honestly, I've been kind of overwhelmed and even a bit depressed by the latest A situation, if you can believe something like that of me. After I first read his last mail, I went down to my room (well, I might have Gazelled a bit first) and laid down on my bed in the fetal position, freezing cold, and just passed out for awhile. Even though I was shivering I couldn't bother to pull the covers up over myself. After I woke up from however long of a nap that ended up being, I crawled under the covers, fully clothed, and just laid there for a few more hours. I didn't even bother to finish my eight miles that day (I think I only did six--Mom and I had been shopping in MC all day): now THAT should tell you how out of it I was. I'm a bit better now, having found something I wouldn't be 100% mortified to send to him, but I'm still worried about how to respond. Oh well. I'm getting a DVD out of the deal, right? Ac-cen-tu-ate the positive...

And on that note, I've officially decided not to weigh myself for at least another week or two. I'm expecting some delicious applesauce coming up soon, so that ought to make it easier on me. I just know that looking at the scale week after week and not seeing the needle moving despite how much I've amped up my routine is about the most detrimental thing I can do, so for now I'm modeling myself after that lovably forgetful fish Dori, only my motto has morphed into "Just keep walking, just keep walking, what do we do? we walk." Oh dear. You know you've hit a new low when you begin incorporating Disney/Pixar slogans into your mission statement.

Squirt had me really scared earlier today, but while we're by no means in the clear, she appears to be getting back to her normally jaunty self. This evening Dad asked me "had she been acting goofy," and I replied that yes, yes she had. I'd mentioned to him last night how strange it was that she had been sleeping all day and not engaging in her usual whine fest. But she was goofier still today--he said she stumbled up the step in the garage and laid there on her side for a good ten seconds before making it up the step into the house. Then she was walking around like a drunk for awhile and falling flat on the floor when she shook or tried to move too much, which is quite a feat for her given she's only about six inches from the ground to begin with. I also noticed that her eyes were bouncing around in her head, and every once in awhile her head would jerk rapidly as well. Well, now she's conked out in her bed, having regained her balance by all accounts--even catching a few (too many) pieces of popcorn in her mouth. I hope to God everything is okay--I really can't take something like this around the holidays again.

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Subject:	Agnes Grey
Time:	4:06 pm.
Mood:	awake.

p. 78

Immediately the flowers were gathered, and in my hand. It was Mr. Weston, of course -- who else would trouble himself to do so much for me?
I thanked him; whether warmly or coldly, I cannot tell: but certain I am that I did not express half the gratitude I felt. It was foolish, perhaps, to feel any gratitude at all; but it seemed to me, at that moment, as if this were a remarkable instance of his good-nature: an act of kindness which I could not repay, but never should forget: so utterly unaccustomed was I to receive such civilities, so little prepared to expect them from any one within fifty miles of Horton Lodge.

p. 95

'The fact is I am too socially disposed to be able to live contentedly without a friend; and as the only friends I have, or am likely to have, are at home, if it or rather, if they were gone -- I will not say I could not live -- but I would rather not live in such a desolate world.'

...

From speaking of books in general, he passed to different books in particular, and proceeded by rapid transitions from topic to topic, till several matters, both of taste and opinion, had been discussed considerably within the space of half and hour, but without the embellishment of many observations from himself; he being evidently less bent upon communicating his own thoughts and predilections, than on discovering mine. He had not the tact, or the art, to effect such a purpose by skillfully drawing out my sentiments or ideas through the real or apparent statement of his own, or leading the conversation by imperceptible gradations to such topics as he wished to advert to: but such gentle abruptness, and such single-minded straightforwardness could not possibly offend me.
'And why should he interest himself at all in my moral and intellectual capacities: what is it to him what I think or feel?' I asked myself. And my heart throbbed in answer to the question.

p. 98

I was about to follow; but Mr. Weston had an umbrella too, and offered me the benefit of its shelter, for it was raining heavily.
'No, thank you, I don't mind the rain,' I said. I always lacked common sense when taken by surprise.
'But you don't like it, I suppose? -- an umbrella will do you no harm at any rate,' he replied, with a smile that showed he was not offended; as a man of worse temper or less penetration would have been at such a refusal of his aid.

p. 100

It is foolish to wish for beauty. Sensible people never either desire it for themselves, or care about it in others. If the mind be but well cultivated, and the heart well disposed, no one ever cares for the exterior. So said the teachers of our childhood; and so say we to the children of the present day. All very judicious and proper, no doubt; but are such assertions supported by actual experiences?

p. 106

When we are harassed by sorrows or anxieties, or long oppressed by any powerful feelings which we must keep to ourselves, for which we can obtain and seek no sympathy from any living creature, and which yet we cannot, or will not wholly crush, we often naturally seek relief in poetry -- and often find it, too -- whether in the effusions of others, which seem to harmonize with our existing case, or in our own attempts to give utterance to those thoughts and feelings in strains less musical, perchance, but more appropriate, and therefore more penetrating and sympathetic, and for the time, more soothing, or more powerful to rouse and to unburden the oppressed and swollen heart.

p. 121

'Yes, Edward Weston, I could indeed be happy in a house full of enemies, if I had but one friend, who truly, deeply, and faithfully loved me; and if that friend were you -- though we might be far apart -- seldom to hear from each other, still more seldom to meet -- though toil, and trouble, and vexation might surround me still -- it would be too much happiness for me to dream of! Yet who can tell,' I said within myself, as I proceeded up the park, -- 'who can tell what this one month may bring forth? I have lived nearly three-and-twenty years, and I have suffered much, and tasted little pleasure yet: is it likely that my life all through will be so clouded? is it possible that God may hear my prayers, disperse these gloomy shadows, and grant me some beams of heaven's sunshine yet? Will He entirely deny to me those blessings which are so freely given to others, who neither ask them nor acknowledge them when recieved? May I not still hope and trust?'

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Subject:	Genji
Time:	12:46 am.

Just got back from my first evening with the Bells this week. Nathan D., Eric, Kate, and Ben made brief appearances, and we watched Hercules and Elf. Well, E slept through most of both, the boys painted, and I played with Adobe Illustrator on A's computer, but the movies were convenient ways to fill in the sporadic conversation gaps and provide material for jumping off points. Anyway, Eric hugged me, A called me hot, and Kate said she liked my haircut, so I'd say all in all tonight wasn't too much of an epic failure.

In other news, I woke up with a searing pain in my right side today. After struggling to sleep through it for awhile, I realized it wasn't just a muscle ache caused from sleeping in a bad position, so I got up to go to the bathroom and see if it would go away by the time I got back. It didn't. I had awful feverish chills at this point, and I laid stationary for awhile longer, but eventually I decided I couldn't take any more of that and tried going to the bathroom again. Eventually I, uh, made, and I went back to bed hoping that would make a sizable difference. It didn't. Still the pain, still the chills. Finally I got up and vomited quite a bit. It wasn't like it was uncontrollable either; I kind of forced myself to do it without actually purging--it was like it was a result of the pain more than any virus or anything. I felt a little better for awhile after that and went back to bed again, but I finally realized that tossing around in bed wasn't doing me any favors, so I went back to the bathroom and laid on the freezing cold concrete, which seemed to be the most comfortable place. Eventually Mom found me and told me to come upstairs and lie in bed, but I collapsed in a similar fashion in that bathroom instead. Finally after about a half hour of lying there I felt better. It was amazing how suddenly the absence of pain came about and how truly glorious it felt. But anyhow, I seem to be better now--my back hurt a little bit earlier in the evening, but that quickly faded and I'm all back in working order. I'm a little afraid to go to bed now, but I did still managed to get in my seven miles (and I'm planning on doing one more before I sleep--we had Arby's tonight), so overall I'm feeling okay. I suppose something like this was to be expected after the freak accident of a miraculous day I had yesterday.

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Subject:	Feelin' Groovy
Time:	6:00 pm.
Mood:	happy.
Music:	"Band on the Run" - Wings.

What a day!

First of all, last night's dream mantra apparently worked, because I had the longest, deepest sleep I've had in a long time, featuring a vivid if a bit peculiar dream about A. Woke up smiling and totally refreshed. Ah.

Secondly, I had a good hair day for the first time since I had my hair cut. Ah.

Third, I went on my big shopping excursion today. After a lengthy internal debate, I decided on one of the 2 Wingspan discs to listen to along the way, and it was PERFECT. I enjoyed every song and they all seemed to have new meaning for me. One of the songs mentions how love seems silly until you're in it... does that have something to do with it perchance? Anyway, traffic was fine, surprisingly, and I hit up Gordman's first. Thank God. I tracked down a pair of Zana Di jeans (my favorite brand, which Fashion Bug has stupidly limited to dress pants) that fit deliciously. They're dark and don't have buttoned back pockets--plus they came with a nifty brown leather belt. Could I ask for anything more? Oh, then I found a sweater in the most flattering shade of purple I've ever seen. PLUS, "New Soul" started playing as soon as I entered the dressing room. Good omen much? When I went to pay for them I got a ten dollar gift card for spending over forty dollars. Amazing or what? Thankfully Target took my other jeans back after a smooth not-truth not-lie on my part ("Have these been worn or anything?" "Um... I tried them on at home and they were the wrong size."), so I got over thirty dollars back. Taking everything into consideration, doesn't that kind of mean I got an awesome new shirt and killer pair of jeans for around two dollars? Well I sure like to think so.

Aaand finally, I remembered to put my Starbucks card in my wallet before I left the house today. I was planning on getting a burger or something to fulfill my high caloric Saturday diet plan, but I really wasn't feeling hungry at all. I'd eaten about three pieces of canned ravioli and three Sweet Tarts before I left, and that seemed to be all I needed. Well, as I was leaving Waterloo I realized I could probably use something in my stomach, so I pulled into the fabulously convenient Starbucks drive-thru and got a grande peppermint mocha frappucino (with money on the card to spare). HEAVEN. Ahhh. Thank goodness I got it when I did (around 5:00, I'd say) because I pulled into the driveway only to find that Mom and Dad had gone out to eat without me. Now all I have to do is kick back and watch some TV for a few hours with the poodles and what's left of my frappucino and wait for them to bring me back some chicken strips. Has there ever been such a perfect day? Well, not in my recent history, so I'll take it :)

"Life I love you. All is groovy."

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Subject:	Free love on the free love freeway
Time:	12:51 am.
Music:	"Free Love Freeway" - David Brent acc. by Gareth.

the love is free and the freeway's long.

I just took the best bubble bath in the history of shameless self-pampering. I feel like I'm filled with something marvelously warm and smooth and rich right now. Basically I'm a giant cheese ball is what I'm saying. But I smell nice. And my feet don't hurt. And my butt isn't cold as a marble statue of a butt for the first time in over a week. Simply delicious.

Speaking of baths. While eating our fantastic meatloaf supper the other day to the sounds of Family Feud in the background, we were all shocked when one of the most popular answers to for the category "Things a man does for a woman to be romantic" was "bathe her." Dad got a funny look on his face, Mom looked at me with a knowing expression, and I burst out laughing. Then we all laughed for a long time. Dad chimed in with quirky comments like "You're nasty!" and "Let me get the scrub brush." Oh, awkward family time.

I planned on doing seven miles today, but I ended up doing eight again at the last minute. I was frustrated early today when a.) the scale didn't move since yesterday, b.) I read that Sarah E. lost 19 pounds in 30 days by eating SAUSAGES (which turned out to be a line from an infomercial, but how was I to know?), c.) I read about a new diet where you eat certain "slow carb" meals every day except Saturday, and you absolutely pig out on Saturday, because constantly consuming low numbers of calories messes with your metabolism and you don't burn as much fat, so (theoretically) indulging once a week should reset that. I was happy at first that my Saturday idea seemed to work for other people, but then I got a little aggravated by the fact that this metabolic-mess up is most likely what's going on with me right now as a result of my hard work. Guess that means tomorrow's going to be a fun day! :) But anyway, I was mad about all that, so I only did my four miles, ate a bunch of Sweet Tarts and a meatloaf supper again, and put off my two miles until the end of the day. Fortunately the British Office was on (and just starting!). I always intend to watch it but forget, but this week I got caught up in it (especially David Brent's speech on motivation and Garreth's "hand job?" comment) and before I knew it I'd done three miles. With a quick break and a little extra effort, I'd made it to four miles before the hour was up. Hence the bath, hence the feeling pretty good about myself right now. Now if only I had something (or someone...) besides Agnes Grey to retire to (or with...) tonight. Ah well. That's what dreams are for.

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Subject:	BUTTLICKER!
Time:	11:01 pm.
Mood:	discontent.
Music:	"Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien" - Edith Piaf .

Did my last eight miles today! I'm not sure how easy it's going to be breaking out of that habit, but there are definitely worse ones that have been conquered.

Speaking of eights, I got eight inches of hair cut off today. I'm not sure that I really like it yet, but I am glad that all that hair in the back is gone. I just wish I knew how to style it. Youtube tutorial time?

In other news, Mom volunteered me to bake the cookies she prepared earlier today. Wonderful. Especially as she was talking on the phone with Clint and telling me better ways to do everything I did, all over the sweet sweet sounds of a new episode of The Office. At least I finished only three minutes after the finale of Project Runway aired. Not that that made things any better. I'm not an Irina fan, if you were wondering. But now that PR is over and ANTM is over, whatever am I going to do with myself? How will I survive the week? This is more distressing than you know. Oh. Dear. Just be glad I'm not a Twilight fan.

Oh God, I just mentioned Twilight in my blog. Twice now. Puuuuke.

A&E are set to be coming home tomorrow; whether or not we are hanging out I'm not as informed on. My what a strange sentence. Anyway, Mom mentioned today that I need to get a new pair of jeans; thing was, I WAS wearing new jeans--the jeans I bought last Saturday. She's right though; they are too big. They fit fine after I wash them, but within hours they stretch like crazy. I don't think I'm quite ready for a size down yet, but I'm considering venturing down to W-loo tomorrow to trade them in and see. Just hope there's something there for me. Oh, and that new size 1 top I got is too big on me too. It's something to celebrate, don't get me wrong, but it would nice to be able to fit in to something--anything--ever.

Guess what. I actually talked to Bev today. A lot. Really surprised myself. Guess maybe I should start showing up a day early for everything as an icebreaker.

Ooh, you know that word you were trying to come up with not too long ago? But you couldn't think of it? You thought it started with an "a," but the closest you could come was "apprehension"? And Thesaurus.com didn't even help? That word was "trepidation." Thanks, Tim Gunn.

Geek out.

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Subject:	8 Mile
Time:	11:19 pm.

I've walked 24 miles in the past three days--yes, that's 8 a day; good for you!--and am realizing that may be pushing things a bit too far. The muscles in my arms hurt, for one (I had been wondering if that was possible!), the balls of my feet feel like grated cheese (especially today when all 8 miles were on the Gazelle because it was extraordinarily uninviting outside), I feel woozy from time to time, and I feel like I've been using my thighs to crack walnuts or something. I think I'll try for eight again tomorrow, if it's nice out, and then tone it down a bit--like to seven. I'm just frustrated with this plateau I've hit so soon. Or am I expecting too much? I witnessed the needle on the scale drop five pounds that one week, and ever since I've been expecting great things from myself which I haven't been producing. It just seems ridiculous to me that I can do the work that I do and eat as little as I eat and still hover around the same weight for two weeks. And it's NOT all muscle weight... is it? *flexes bicep*

Well, I finally finished The Scarlet Letter last night; I'll have to get on here and add my quotations tomorrow. I didn't get as much done today as I would have liked; there was the weather situation to contend with mainly, but additionally, I'd gotten up early and driven to Waverly for my haircut only to be informed the appointment is tomorrow. Boooo. I'm just about ready to stick my head in a weed-whacker at this point; I want it GONE. I guess maybe the mishap was sort of fortunate though, because I kind of wanted to save a lock of my hair before I did it and I'd totally forgotten that until after the appointment. And I wouldn't want my future granddaughter to miss out on a certain family tradition I established a few years ago!

Mom seems to be feeling better; she's been on the computer for hours today, and when she wasn't, she made some delicious meatloaf, corn, and mashed potatoes for supper. Ummm. I could really use another helping of one or all of those right about now. Bring on the 8 miles, tomorrow.

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Subject:	Conquering
Time:	11:32 pm.
Mood:	calm.

I hit the Gazelle hardcore again today, only I paid more attention to the meter this time. And what did I find? I think the workout is just as good when I speed it up, if not better, and now I have my miles trimmed down to just over eleven minutes. That's faster than I could run when I was in ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. Good news, especially when I was beginning to wonder if this course of action had stopped working. I did three miles overall, and I'm thinking about doing one more (a slow one) before going to bed because I haven't done as well as I would have liked on the diet side of things today. 150 calories worth of cereal and milk for lunch, plus a few baby carrots, plus a bite of yesterdays Hamburger Helper and maybe a handful of popcorn over the course of the day. Orange. 220 calories of chicken Parmesan for supper with 3/4 of a baked potato + butter and sour cream, and a little lettuce with about 7 calories of Cesar dressing. Mini crunch bar for dessert. Another bite of Hamburger Helper and one 11 calorie gummy Lifesaver. Most of a Chips Ahoy cookie. Yeah, I should probably do that mile...

Almost finished with The Scarlet Letter! Finally. Only took me what, two years? I actually like it this time around, though. The part about it not being required reading over Thanksgiving break now kind of helps its case, I imagine. Plus I just love me some of that Hawthorne fella. And it helps me going into classic books like this with a sense of humor. Just look at all the exclamation points he uses! The drama! The extravagance! It isn't all drab and sad. Sure it's not the happiest story ever told, but I just bear in mind that it's Hester Prynne with that scarlet letter pinned on her bosom, not me. For now anyway. I have been feeling a bit... naughty lately. Okay not really.

I realized last night that if I had to describe Wes in one word, that word would be "facetious." I've never been able to define that word as well as I would like, but now I know without a doubt what it means, and it has Wesley written all over it.

Quote I heard today on a Hitler documentary: "They that start by burning books will end by burning men." - Heinrich Heine

I learned today that Bizarre Foods is going to be taking the place of Bizarre World again, and that Psychic Kids returns with a new season next month. Can TV get any better?

p.s. I really love the new look of this layout. My Black Man what a color code wizard I am.
p.p.s. I just remembered I dreamed I was Harry Potter last night. And I really sucked at magic. Ha.

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Subject:	Keep Calm and Carry On
Time:	11:01 pm.
Mood:	annoyed.
Music:	"Puff the Magic Dragon" - PP&M.

Huh, guess I haven't done a real update in some time now, have I? Well, let's change that.

Yesterday was my big day with Wes. I told her the day before that I wanted to go to Target, Payless, and Panera in the afternoon, and she was welcome to come along if she liked. We had planned on hanging out doing crafty things that night, and she told me she had some food to make for her "Minnesota Family" (barf) Thanksgiving today, so I figured we'd go out around noon for a few hours, depart, then meet up again at night. Sounds logical, right?

No.

From the moment I got into her car in the Wal-Mart parking lot, I was hers. We went to Panera and Target, but she was being really pushy--except for whenever she was talking about Kris. Or texting Kris. Or talking to Kris in the check out line. Fucking Kris. We skipped Payless altogether and went to Wal-Mart and Trinkets instead to pick up items for her crap er uh, craft projects. Right before we walked into Wal-Mart she says with her expert Wesley nonchalance, "I'm driving you out to my house so I have an excuse to smoke a cigarette tonight." So it was then I learned I'd be spending the entire day with her, despite my wishes and my very injured mother back at home. What pissed me off most of all, though-- besides her completely ignoring 90% of the things I said and hounding me on the other 10%, which are things I half-mumbled because I started talking without thinking and only for the sake of appearing to (want to) participate in the asinine conversation--and besides her virtually kidnapping me, AGAIN--and besides her claiming Alice in Wonderland as her very own--and besides her insisting we go on a drive to "wake me up" when I complained of the headache, sick stomach, and sudden drowsiness the (half of a) cheap beer she bought gave me--and besides her rolling her window down to chain smoke in the middle of an Iowan November night--was when, after I'd told her how interested I am in Queen Elizabeth II (to which she wittily replied, "Huh."), I suggested--clearly jokingly--that we watch The Queen while I helped her with her crafts that night, and she gave me this cocked eyebrow Valley Girl snarl, this pained face of someone realizing in an instant that the sidekick she's been dragging along all these years is further beneath her than she could ever have imagined, and sighed, "No..." And not only this, but then, my friend, then she made me watch Twilight.

I would love so much to fucking scream the previous paragraph at someone right now like she vomits everything at me, but I. AM. A. GOOD. PERSON. SHE. IS. A. FUCKING. LOUSY. EXCUSE. FOR. A. PERSON. WHEN. WILL. SOMEONE. DECLARE. TO. THE. WORLD. WHAT. A. GOD. AWFUL. PERSON. SHE. IS. AND. START. A. FUCKING. CLUB. FOR. THE. REST. OF. US. WHO. HAVE. TO. PUT. UP. WITH. HER. BUUULLLLLLLLLL?

I suppose now would be as good a time as any to put that new punctuation mark to the test.

‽ ‽ ‽ ‽ ‽

Well anyway. WSR won the state volleyball championship yesterday. Hooray!

Mom is feeling better, by the looks of it. She's been up and out of bed most of the day today, she ate supper with us (though we ate Crunchy Taco and she had a Velveeta and Miracle Whip sandwich), she's drinking pop again, and she's been groaning a lot less. This is all very good news. Things were looking a bit iffy for awhile there, and yes, I was scared. Still am. She seems to be falling apart lately. But as long as she recovers from this, I will breath a lot easier. I know she will too. I just hate seeing her in pain.

To change tone completely, when I dropped Mom off at the hospital the other day, whom should I run into at the front desk but KEITH! Fucking KEITH! After the initial awkwardness we progressed into a very awkward conversation, which included his asking me if I had a "significant other" and musing about how it's so very strange how our paths cross in life *cue hand gesture* This, in turn, was followed by an excruciatingly awkward goodbye, which turned out to be mercifully abrupt as I discovered upon rounding the corner and immediately lapsing into a fit of giggles which only stifled itself long enough for me to appear appropriately strong and concerned for Mom while secretly texting Ellen about what had just transpired. My life. Oy vey.

I got another A-mail yesterday, which managed to brighten up my disaster of a day more than I could have hoped. Very A, very cute, with allusions to our relationship progressing via that "facebook chat thing." Scares me, of course, but makes me smile all the same. The last letter I wrote him found its way out surprisingly easily. Here's hoping the next can compare.

Went for my walk today as usual. We ran into Otis, the big black Grim of a dog, before the trail, but he didn't give us any real trouble. Then when I got on the Gazelle tonight I decided to set the meter at calories and watched the tail end of Meet the Robinsons. When I looked down for the first time, expecting to see something in the forties based on how tired I was, I was absolutely flabbergasted to see I'd burned nearly 86 calories--meaning I'd gone well over my first mile without even realizing it, if you were curious. Getting to two miles was just as easy, so then I decided to test my luck and try for three. My foot began to hurt a bit then, but I did it. I still can't believe how easy it was. It makes me a little apprehensive, to be honest, because I feel like something had to be wrong, or that something that physically non-taxing couldn't have burned off that many calories. Was it just my mind set? I guess I just need to keep finding TV shows and movies that can keep my mind off that meter.

Tim's birthday today, and I wished him well for the first time in three years. No big deal or anything, other than it being one more step to our repairing this divide. Even if we're never what we used to be, which I believe with all the maturity I've gained over these four non-teenage years will likely be the case, I would love nothing more than to be on good terms with him again. I think he's in the same place right now. Of course that 19-year-old girl in me is squealing things like "But does he just like you now because his girlfriend is ugly and weird and because you've lost weight and because he wants to go out with you? He did say he liked that "Puff the Magic Dragon" thing of yours the other day, and he's not the type of guy who would do that! He likes you! Do him!" But this girl knows better than that. This girl keeps calm and carries on.

Fucking internet stopped working...

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Blurty for Her Majesty.

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