  It was immeasurably hard to get out of bed today. I had slept pretty well, for me, about five hours.
But I could sense that my bedroom was very, very cold and getting out of my warm covers would mean swiftly freezing to death. The weather is playing tricks on me. Its gorgeous outside, a violently blue sky and cotton-ball clouds like I use to glue on construction paper (Cumulus, Cirrus, Status…) It is positively freezing, though.
Leigh and I were duped into walking downtown for lunch. The Rocket is now populated by freshmen who clamor all over, gawking at the local art on the walls. They really don’t deserve the beauty of that place. Rocket Sex God, of course, was not working. But his friend (who is blonde, and yet I forgive him) served Leigh her pizza bagel (Which, as any decent Vegan knows, supports the veal industry, and inadvertently the meat industry. Dirty cow-killer! ) and my Luna Bar. I wanted those page-boy-hat-wearing wanksters-gansters to leave so badly. I am now am obsessed with this boy. He (! ) dated Meg (!! ) last year. I can’t really comprehend someone so cool dating someone so… Meghan . I see him at school every day now. It’s my own little quirk that I secretly think he is perhaps the best boy in the school, aside from G-Dogg.
And yes, the whole cuddling-as-a-past-time is sort of incredible. But, c’mon, his heroes are everyone from Art Garfunkle to Gandhi. Now compare that to your typical freshman male; heroes there Chingy and Ron Jeremy. This boy, he has potential. I nearly forgot to mention the most embarrassing moment of my high school career, which took place today. It was actually embarrassing for an hour or so. Intolerably embarrassing. I wanted to run away and live under an assumed name.
I am going to put it bluntly; I grabbed/smacked/made unintentional contact with Unnamed Victim’s ahem, um… (You see, this is where my true colors shine through. I can’t even type it. Oh god. ) Male genitalia. Jesus. I was turning around to answer Leigh, and Unnamed Victim was walking by. (Leigh would later claim Unnamed Victim was actually not a victim, and actually a perpetrator, who wanted my poor hand to make contact with his... male genitalia. Oh god. ) For the next few moments, a torrent of apologies spewed from my bright-red self. Unnamed Victim laughed, told me I had good aim, and overall became the Hero of Men.
When moments of such embarrassment happen, I think about Julius Caesar. He says something about how brave men only taste death once, and cowards die thousands of tiny deaths all the time. I died today. I die all the time. I am a medical miracle. Affectionately… Anna 
