I finished running X number of miles ("X" stands for eXtra unimpressive) this semester and got my brag-worthy free t-shirt that fools boys into thinking I'm an athlete. I'm really glad BYU's gone back to their original blue, even if the only reason they did it was to make money off of all the new merchandise we have to go buy now.
New Goal: A Sorta/Kinda Six-Pack. By my birthday.
My birthday is in a month. May 8th. Scoffing is encouraged on your part, but it's not as lofty a goal as it sounds. Allow me to expound.
I realize that not even Taylor Laughtner on anabolic steroids could achieve true six-pack-dom from nothing in under thirty days. I also realize that women with ripped abs are frightening and icky. However, somebody I know told me it couldn't be done, so . . . here we are.
Basically, I'd settle for a softly defined stomach. Super softly defined. I mean Starla's great, but . . .
ya, no. Let's stay away from Starla status.
Someone realistic told me it couldn't be done, and thus the sorta/kinda six-pack goal. This isn't a problem. At least it won't be a problem starting tomorrow, because that half-pound bag of Victory Jellybeans had to be eaten in one sitting today since I earned them pwning everyone in the family Easter Egg Battle (smash confetti-filled eggs over your opponents' heads and you get to rob them of their eggs; crying was involved).
Happy Finals! As a fourth-timer of Finals Week, I advise calling it a night at 2:00 a.m. and then waking again at 5:00 a.m. to resume your papers and projects--it's a more effective tactic than pulling an all-nighter. And remember, it doesn't matter how awful things get or how sure you are you're going to die, because when it comes down to it, it'll all be over by next Thursday at 4:00 no matter what.
And by three Thursdays after that, I'll have sorta/kinda six-pack stories to brighten your day, I'm sure.