The thing on my leg

I had lotion on my hand and the sharpie won't write on lotioned flesh. Lotioned is totally a word.

Um. So I've been acting sort of totally messed up this (day, week, month, year) and I've realized exactly why. Thought you should know that. The reasons why are written on my leg. Right leg, inside, nearing ankle territory.

I'm blogging from the outside, where I'm listening to Vampire Weekend and writing. Yay. It's warm today, and that makes me really happy. I'm going to see Hairspray tonight and playing QUIZBOWL tomorrow and going to see the boy in Cinderella tomorrow and it's just great. Yay.

Someone, let's call her Zombie, and I have been becoming kinda friends. And we have gym together. We're swimming next week, and so I must ask the essential question: should I wear a one-piece or two-piece? Big choices here.

Um...what else? There has to be something else. Oh, gymteacherwhotellsusnothingaboutherlife said that her dad was getting married this weekend and that it would be really awkward. I second that opinion. It's always funny to find out stuff about teacher's personal lives. Like when we (I) found Mrs.AP Euro's husband on facebook*.

The novel is...okay. It's going okay, and that's all I have to say about that. I just hate that no matter whose voice I'm trying to write in, it always comes out with this overriding feeling of Samanthaness. Ewww. I don't want to sound like me, just like I wouldn't be myself if I was given any kind of choice in the matter.**

*That never happened. Or maybe it did.

**I told that to someone once and they gave me a very...eugh answer "You should always want to be yourself."