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I can't tell if I'm all beat up because of dance or otherwise. Yesterday, I discovered 2 big bruises on each of my arms (the flabby tricep part) and a couple on my legs. I wonder how that happened. I like to think of them as dancer bruises, though.
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I'm malingering (except I don't even pretend to be ill) more and more as the semester goes by, which always seems to be the trend. I should have learned from last semester when 1073952190 credits worth of unattended classes all ganged up on me at the end of the semester.
I should be in Stats now. Meh. Hypothesis testing isn't that difficult, from what I remember. Right?
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It just sort of dawned onto me that I was spilling all my deep, dark secrets to I & D the other night, and I do that every time, because I get particularly verbose when I'm tipsy. Not that it really matters, but now they know a lot more about me than the average person. Ho ho.
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My first ever attempt to sketch a real-looking portrait, instead of the usual cartoons I'm only capable of. Drawn on my church bulletin, with me casting sideways glances to the lady across the aisle. I think she noticed.
She actually looks quite like this.
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Texas Chain Saw Massacre was ridiculous. We were hiding behind pillows and blankets watching it, until everyone fell asleep (???) at 5 am, whereupon only M and I were awake wondering why we were so obediently watching it when we really didn't have to, so we stopped and will never know what happened in the end.
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I'm so sore. I think I need to give my body a rest.
My room is in such a mess, and I haven't done laundry in 3 weeks. That's kinda gross.
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This is what they call stream of consciousness.