I received a phone call from stretch tonight.
"What's going on Stretch???"
Stretch wasn't too excited that I had nicknamed her, though I do have to say that she's less pissed than I expected. Stretch is partly named stretch because she's taller than me and I'm 5'11" so...yeah, she's pretty fucking tall. But boys? She's also pretty fucking hot.
Stretch is going to kill me.
I'm not worried though because she's been promising to visit for months and I am actually still carrying the shit that she couldn't pack because she packed too late.
We've ALL fucking been there before.
That's a whole different story for me. I could outfit a house with the amount of shit that I've left behind over the years.
Cute Boy Watch 2005: There are no cute boys around lately. Bastards. Though there is a boy, and I almost do really mean just a boy, in my program who is hitting on the new girl. Doesn't he realize that it's bad to dip the pen in the company ink.
Especially if you have to work on class projects for at least the rest of the semeser if not the next year afterwards.
Hormones never did mean much in terms of making decisions.