Is it still Tuesday??

well, in my time-zone it is.

today kicked ass.
I submitted my application for admission--
to a large, lovely university close to our new house.
i even sent letters to the other two universities i've attended,
requesting transcripts.
yaaaay, me!
so...
if they don't reject my lazy ass,
I could be a co-ed as of Fall semester...
I doubt it'll cramp my blogging style, fear not.
yeah, yeah, i know no one's worried.
and, if i'm lucky, i'll learn a little something.

my mind is racing.
which leads me to...

THE TOP TEN SIGNS THAT THE "WORK-OUT SUPPLEMENT" YOU'RE TAKING IS CRACK-BASED:
1. see: "my mind is racing"
2. getting to the gym, and hopping on the treadmill for the usual 7 minute speed walk warm up--and instead running 2 miles.
3. darting around from station to station, lifting heavier-than-usual weights
4. (while muttering like a fuckin' auctioneer)
5. drinking 8 gallons of water
6. calling one's mother and talking non-stop for 40 minutes. NON STOP.
like, as in--don't ask me how SHE'S doing, cuz I DON'T know.
7. calling everyone in one's phonebook and leaving inane, fast-paced messages.
8. using all of one's focus to write this list.
9. realizing the idea was a lot funnier in my head
10. there isn't a tenth, but i'm surprised i made it this far.

what a waste.
I don't know how those crackheads get anything done.

so my kids were helping me warm up some food in the microwave,
and i was thinking about how much they love to push the buttons for me.
but HEAVEN FORBID i request a "zero"--
they won't do it.
i am forced to alter the amount of time i wish to heat something,
in order to suit their finicky tastes.
i don't get it, really i don't.
it's like zero's not even a number!
...er.
that made me giggle.
maybe that IS why they balk...?
cuz it IS a number, but it's also the lack of a quantity...
so.
whatever.
fuck you.
and the ephedra-free horse you rode in on.

I love my gym.
it's the only thing in my routine that will change much, when i move.
I mean, I'll still go, but the faces will change.
there are people i've been seeing, daily, for 2 years.
no, I have never talked to a single one of them.
but I'll still miss them.
especially the hotties.
I will also miss that frumpy chick, who sweats her ASS off every day,
but still remains flopsy mopsy--wtf??
I will miss the skinny-buff chicks who inspire me.
I will miss that one guy who is still riding his (p.o.s.)motorcycle everyday--
even in snowstorms, and flirts with all the chubby girls.
I will miss the hotties.
oh, i mentioned that. hehe.
I will NOT miss that girl I used to work with at JB's restaurant, here in town.
she was in high school, i was in college.
she looks exactly like the girl who played "felicity" on the show of the same name.
only prettier.
she seriously takes my breath away.
I gawk, sometimes, by mistake.
but I haven't spoken to her.
yes, I'm a weirdo.
she was never terribly friendly, and still isn't.
(don't look at ME!! I'm friendly!!! just...not...at the gym...okay, nevermind)
I am anxious to see what the atmosphere will be like at my new gym...
and in my neighborhood!!!!
like, i might actually HAVE a neighborhood this time!
not just a "ward" that we're not a part of.
fucking mormons.
which reminds me--
it was SO nice to request a copy of my transcript from BYU to be sent to the U of U.
they're rivals.
I was itching to include something in my request like, "sod off ya fucking pricks!!"
but, i didn't figure that would speed things up much.
I still dream of the day when I will streak that campus.
gulp.
okay, no I don't.
but it would ROCK.
and I will hold as one of my nearest memories last year's valentine's day...
when the mr. and I rode the elevator to the top floor of the highest building on that self-righteous, dream-shattering, oppressive campus and fucked.
...do I sound bitter?
naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.
not I.
cock suckers.

so, i'll get my revenge.
I'll be successful without them.
and then I'll write a national best-seller about what it's like to grow up Mormon.
muuuwwaahahahahahahahahahahahaha
they'll never see it coming.

so anyway.
I need a better camera.
one with a major zoom lens.
and a wide-angle lens.
and a macro setting.
that wasn't interesting enought to include here, i know.
but, bite me--my mind is racing.
this is almost as bad as being drunk.
or as good?
or, as Max said earlier, "very very more bigger"
yikes.
I'm glad to see I'm instilling such a full vocabulary in them...

okay, on that note, me and my addled brain will go make dinner.
I don't have the energy left to tell you to fuck off, so i won't.
but do it anyway.