In which I have nothing to say

Now that Basketball season is done, I have nothing to say. It's really sad. I suppose I could share some of my crappy poetry, but I shall spare you that painful experience. I showed Bethany some of it today and she thought it was hilarious -- I used the word "penultimately" in it. I want basketball to be going on . . . for seriously serious.

So I was talking to Dave today and he got on his soapbox . . . He was telling me exactly how to treat my guy when I get married. He was very adament -- keep the past in the past; don't stew over it for ten years and then bring it up again when he just wants to sleep. And when he says anything about my appearance, believe him; he really means what he says. I was laughing hysterically the whole time -- it was great! He also told me that I seriously need to get help because I have "self-mutilation problems." He says this because I have been finding weird bruises and I tried to tell him I didn't know where I got them, but he kept telling me that I really needed to get help. It was hilarious. I think the notion that I could have leukemia is much closer to what is going on -- and yeah -- that's not so likely.

Timmy is convinced that Athletic Math Boy and I are hopelessly in love; as is Dave. Love stinks. Why would we do that to ourselves?
~MJ