Big whoop, wanna fight about it?

I guess, because I'm not bored in class over the summer or in front of a computer at work, I haven't really had much to talk about.

I got a volunteer job with Delta Phi Epsilon's Extension Research team. They'll email me stuff and I do it and send it back. Although it would be cool to live in Philly. I'm also working to hopefully restart the Metro Detroit Alumnae Association. Yeah, I went alum and all I want to do is do Deepher stuff. That's gross.

I am scared SHITLESS about student teaching. Like terrified. I'm scared of getting up (or attempting to get up) at 7:30 every morning again, which I haven't done since my freshman year of college when I thought it was a good idea to schedule a 7:50am Pre-Calc class. I'm scared of working until 3:30. I'm scared of doing lesson plans and teaching. As outgoing as I am, I'm scared I'm not going to do it right. Like I'm just going to get up there and stutter and the six year olds are going to laugh at me. I'm scared I won't learn the new science curriculum. I'm scared that I won't be able to go to the bathroom when I need to because I'll be teaching (shut up, it's a concern). I'm scared I won't be able to pay my bills because I'll be working for free.

Side note: WHOEVER THOUGHT THAT STUDENT TEACHING SHOULD NOT BE PAID IS A BIG FUCKING IDIOT. JUST SAYING.

I'm scared that I'll be exhausted beyond belief by student teaching and working, with coaching starting again in November. It's overwhelming. And I put off student teaching for good reason but now, holy shit, it's coming. September 1st. It's not something I can say 'Hey I'm doing that next year, in the fall, soon...' Nope. It's here. All those clothes and nice shoes I bought I can utilize for more than dressing up to go to Bailey's or to feel good about myself. Nope, those are work clothes now, fool.

Maybe I should have stuck to my 11th grade original plan and just majored in English and become a famous author.

Bangs is becoming unbearable. Everything that comes out of her mouth is either a screech or a whine. It's awful. I'm concerned for her but she has made it very clear she does not need my help. She dyed her hair brown, though, and it doesn't look as bad as I originally thought. She's still better blond. Big Blond BANGS.

Dave and I are good. Over eight months. He's awesome. What else do you want me to say? OMGZZZ I LUVZ HIM HE IZ SoooOoOo KeWL. Is that better? I finally found something I'm better than him at: Rummy. And my parents seriously love him more than me. When I come home and he's with me they're like 'heyruth...HIIIIIIII DAAAAAAAAAVE.' I would too. He's a better person than I will ever be. That's why I love him.

I'm one of Shatley's bridesmaids and, in case you were wondering, because you were, I am the Fat Bridesmaid. I have the biggest boobs and probably the biggest dress size. (You know you're stacked when you have to pay extra for plus size dresses...W00T.) I'm going to fuck up her pictures with my whale thighs.

Where did this summer go? And why do I have five dollars in my checking account to show for it?!