Let's see. Last weekend was fucking awesome. Jennifer came to the Heights for a visit, so she, Tina, Leah and myself all got together. We went out to New York Red Hots and gorged ourselves on Chicken Strips Pitas and Chili Cheese Fries. I had convinced myself half-way through the meal that I could, indeed, have a milkshake for dessert. I am so glad that my stomach finally sent the message to my brain that had I ingested a milkshake, there would have been trouble.

After the Fattie Food Fest, we went over to Tina's to hang out. We managed a solid two hours of conversation without actually looking at a computer, which has to be some kind of record. However, that conversation was half about computers, so maybe it doesn't count. When we finally gave up and whipped out the laptop, Jennifer and Tina had a creepy gift to give Leah and me. Saladfingers. David Firth, I want to marry you.

That Saturday, since the high ups at Lane Bryant(Tom Kruse, that means YOU) decided that our store wasn't making enough money and cut our hours, I had the day off. So I decided to spend it at Joe's. I actually managed to do some studying for Chemistry, which I thought would be impossible considering there was either Nirvana blasting from the stereo or Need for Speed blasting from the TV. Nichole was kind enough to whip us up some fondue. I loved it. Everyone else was meh about it. This always happens. So I ended up with the fondue pot on my plate and a skewer in hand, scraping up the clotted cheese. Then the inevitable happened. Plastic water bottles + fondue skewers=a hole in someone's hand. That hand being mine. I immediately covered my hand and wouldn't look at it. Joe wrenched it upwards to look at the wound, gave it a few pokes and pronounced, "It's bleeding, but you're ok". I washed the cheese cooties out of it and slapped one of those odd four legged bandaids on it.

Later, after the requisite trip to Meijer's, Joe and I watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. It was a really creative way to talk about relationships and what they do to people. It was like, no matter how bad you think it might be, when it's gone, there will be something that you miss, or still think about that person.

I got a 92 on that Chemistry test I studied my ass off for. Woo hoo!

I have a pretty good chance of getting a job in the Beaumont Hospital lab! Another woo hoo!

I'm selling a huge stack of CDs, DVDs and books for Christmas cash! Sorta woo hoo!

I came up with a really fucking cute outfit today. My ripped up long-sleeve, black and grey striped tee shirt, under my dinosaur shirt. That combined with my hair makes me look like a 17 yr old depressed boy. Which is exactly what I'm going for.

Kelly