Things will not go as planned. I can tell.
So Laura and I are going to Chigago. We must. It is something we must do. We must go. To Chicago. Laura wants to go to hook up with Matt I mean to hang out with Matt I mean not because of Matt at all. I want to go because I want to drive to a faraway place for the weekend. Oh if it works out it will be so fun.
And today is Omar's birthday. Happy birthday Omar.
I really should shower, but lately I haven't wanted to. I guess just because it's warm outside, but not warm enough in my house for a cold shower. The only time I really like showering is after I work out, which is after I've been in the steam room. Ahh the steam room. I should work out tonight. That's a good idea.
So let me tell you a story. I used to say something about a person, and people would disagree with me left and right. Yesterday, I talked to Julia, and she basically said to me "you are right." And that made me really happy. As I was falling asleep last night I was thinking about why that made me happy. It is NOT because I can say "I told you so" but more because the truth is finally out there. It's not like I would be sad if I was wrong. I'm just glad that the masses agree with me. That's always fun.
Always.
So I'm still sitting here.
I dont know how I feel about that show on TLC "A Personal Story." Julia knows what I'm talking about. It's the show where it follows someone's expierence with augmenting their bodies to make themselves look more beautiful through surgery. I really am torn. Half of me hates the fact that the show is glorifying artificiality and therefore encouraging young impressionable girls that their life would suddenly be perfect if they looked like everyone else. While that may be true, it makes those of us who are already perfect not as special. I'm kidding. Not really. No I kinda am. The other half of me sees these people getting boob jobs and nose jobs and tummy tucks and says "good. They're doing what they want to do." But I have the right to feel both ways about something. This does not mean I am neutral. It means I am torn. So back off, BITCH!
I apologise for that outburst.
And my belly button is getting a lot better. For those of you who cared. Lets count: 1...2...3...4...oh wait no once cares.
Okay. I must go. Showering is needed and my clothes are getting wrinklier and wrinklier by the second. This comic made me laugh today.
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