Just some things I have to say

1. I'm in graduate school. It's a little scary, and I am under constant stress wondering when they will discover that I am not very smart and that they made a horrible mistake. Also, I feel like I'm cheating on my college (both big basketball schools, renowned journalism/comm. programs, you know).
2. The "no cell phones while driving in New York" law is RUINING MY LIFE. Don't they know that the car is where I do my best phone calling?
3. I've survived a week without air conditioning. It's like Survivor up in this piece, for real.

Where Can I Buy Desperation Barbie?

ABC really knows what women want. We like our men vacant, manicured/groomed within an inch of their lives, and made of wax. So they're giving us Brad:

Bradley is the newest victim of "The Bachelor", ABC's hit reality program where women give up their careers, dignity, and self-respect in order to prostitute themselves for a plastic rose from an equally plastic man who is also DATING/MAKING OUT WITH ALL 15 OF THEIR ROOMMATES. God bless America.

Homeboy looks like a Ken doll. I'm not entirely sure what bothers me the most about him-is it the dead eyes? Or the fact that it looks like the hair in his beard/sleaze-stache was placed onto his wax skin one by one by a pair of tweezers?

He's also a total natural. Nothing awkward or forced about this gem!

Dear Internet: Am freaking out. Please send cookies.

In the midst of all this sadness, I developed a Mystery Cut on my arm that has since morphed into a Mystery Scar. Also, seriously, I kind of have a wonky-looking face, but I doubt copious amounts of vitamin-E oil will solve that problem. Not that it's doing much for Mystery Scar either.

I'm moving in 12 days. To go to graduate school. I have not discussed the matter in this forum as of yet. But now I have to. Because I am losing it a tiny bit. And this involves me crying over running out of hair gel, hyperventilating in the parking lot of REI, giving myself shin splints from spending 45 hours a day at the gym working out my anxieties, and typing in weird, short, pseudo-sentences at the beginning of all blog entries.

I have about 8 billion things to do and I can't seem to accomplish anything. Like yesterday I went to paint pottery. My procrastination is hard. Core. I don't just play solitaire on the computer, friends. I go out and do crafts.

Basically, I'm probably going to be posting a little less frequently for a while. But don't worry, kids. I will not abandon you completely. Because where else can I go when I feel the need to tell literally TENS of people things like "yeah, so I have to get a mouth-guard to wear at night." This is true, p.s. I went to the dentist today and he told me two things. The first was about the mouth-guard, the second was when I was being fitted for said guard and involved something about my mouth having unusually powerful suction. I don't know. Basically I need to wear this thing to bed every night because a.) you never know when a hockey puck's going to be flying at your face and b.) I have developed a delightful little crossbite, which is essentially an underbite that can't quite commit. So yeah, I'm a little sad about being 24 and having to wear a glorified retainer.

The moral of the story: maybe take your orthodonture seriously the first time, instead of I don't know, using those little rubber bands that were meant to go on your braces for when you make a million tiny braids all over your head, Bo Derek style, because really you look like an ass and now your bite is still messed up. NEVER HAPPENED....