We love you, too, Deb.

Hehehe. I love you guys.

Lord... the Middle Easy... I meant Middle EAST. Not Easy. I doubt that it's Easy.

I cut my hair. I already wrote that on the blog at my site, but I know you guys don't read that all the time so I figured I should probably mention it here, too. So yeah, it's all gone. I've got this short, choppy bob going on and it's really, I think it almost looks better than the long hair and I haven't even grown into it yet - you're supposed to give a cut two weeks to sort of settle in. I got it cut last Thursday - Matrix day, boo yah! - and I've liked it ever since Friday. Thursday it was kinda screwed up because Kathy, my hair lady, she styled it all poofy and old woman-ish and I was like, no! Don't do that to my beautiful hair! So we wet it down and I futzed with it and hoped for the best. It works much better now, though, since I'm using this ultra hold mousse crap. Me. Using mousse. What has the world come to? It's still pretty, though, and really super soft so it's okay. As long as my hair isn't greasy and crunchy it's okay to use products.

In more personal, less vain news... umm... I saw my old soccer coach and he remembered me from like 5 years ago, which was really, really weird. I didn't like the guy, he's a soccer nazi and he insisted on calling me Ann instead of Anna, but it was still kind of nice that he remembered me. It's one of those things. As much as I don't really want to talk to people from high school and everything, it hurts a little when they don't recognize me or say hello or anything. Ya know what I mean? It's stupid because I don't want to talk to them, in fact I hate talking to them, but at the same time it's not fun to be ignored or overlooked.

Oh, I got to be Dana's mom, too! And Dale was her dad and we got carnations and little pins that say, 'That's my Whippet!" It's neat. Dana's real parents, umm.. I'm still a little confused on the story. I don't know what happened with her dad, but I have a vague idea about her mom. Apparently, her parents got divorced, her mom married someone else who already had two boys. When they got divorced, the step brothers stopped talking to Dana, the step father stopped talking to Dana and her mom sent her to a mental institution claiming that Dana was ruining her [the mother's] life. If you know Dana, you would know how wildly absurd that claim is. You guys would love Dana, she's just the sweetest person and she's really fun and we moon over Orlando Bloom while Dale just rolls his eyes. It's so nice to have a girl around finally. I mean, I love my boys, to itty bitty pieces, but sometimes it gets old having them ogling pretty girls. I can give informed opinions about whether a girl is hot or not, but I miss out on the whole joy of ogling, if you know what I mean.

And I totally forgot to tell you guys that Chad is in the Middle Easy. Well, he is and he's okay. He's a trooper. Literally.

Umm... I still hate my braces. I still hate the acne my medication and condition are causing - migraines are triggered by hormones as is the production of sebum, the oily crap that clogs pores. Needless to say, when your hormones are all over the place it's pretty hard not to have your skin break out. I don't know, I feel like I'm regressing back to 15 with the braces and the acne except at 15 I had pretty great skin. Maybe this is just making up for that, I don't know.

I told Dale this, and my shrink, so I figured I should tell you guys. And yeah, I might be shooting myself in the foot on this one, eating my words later, but... I'm pretty much resigned to the fact that I'm not going to have a love life until I'm about 23. I'm an acne prone, overweight, chronically ill headcase with a mouth full of metal. I can't imagine someone even being attracted to me, much less wanting to date me. Dale, of course, laughed at this in that tired way, rolled his eyes and said, 'but it's you,' as if that explained everything. I haven't had a love life for over 6 months, it's not like this is coming out of nowhere.

Speaking of which, I saw Peter a couple weeks ago at a soccer game. I avoided him and didn't speak with him, kind of hoped he wouldn't even notice me, and you know what the disturbing part is? I didn't want him to see me, not because I know that he hates me now, not because I don't want to dredge up bad history, but because I thought he would see me and think, thank god I got out of that. How screwed up is that?

Still, bravo me on the honesty. I hadn't told anyone that, hadn't even written down in a journal.

Oh, yeah, Peter, he's also giving Tim advice on how to get high off of over the counter medication. Yepp. That was my boyfriend. Lucky me. He hates me. His friends hate me. And frankly my dear, I don't give a damn. I just don't think that I did a damn thing to deserve it. And that bothers me. They all think I'm some snob with a superiority complex who looks down on them as plebes and underlings. Dale thinks I'm a nun. He, of all people, should know that I'm not a nun and yet, there it is, that's what he thinks. I swear... one of these days I'm just going to crack, get half my body tattooed, stick a ring through every appendage I can and run off with some Satanic drummer from a death metal band.

I'll be damned. I didn't spell anything wrong. I guess there's a first time for everything.