I'm supposed to be studying for my Cross-Cultural Communications class right now. It's not going to happen until two hours pre-exam while I sip a Mountain Dew and chow on a kashi granola bar. I will skim my notes (I don't even own the book), and will still come up with the highest grade in class. I don't understand why this happens other than good luck mixed with the right amount of bull s**t. I refuse to believe it's due to intelligence because an intelligent person would have already studied by now. Attaining academic excellence used to be a goal of mine because I wanted to prove to the world I was smart. I am over that and have since realized many super intelligent people are snobs. I am not a snob. I couldn't be if I tried. I've lived nearly every walk of life and if I skipped any I have friends who did. It's what gives me compassion toward so many. People are so quick to judge others, I hope if we come back to Earth again we will be in the person's shoes who we judged most.

Today was rough. Boot camp pushed me to the edge and I felt queasy near the end. I had no idea there are so many ways to do push-ups, squats, and lunges. An ordinary push-up is no small feat for a girl like me let alone doing them while sticking one leg in the air, one-armed, or my favorite "rolling" push-ups (talk about porn-star move lol!). And to top it all off my coach decided to chat with me during cardio blast. I shook my head up and down because I couldn't get words out; but if I could've it would have probably sounded like this: "Hello, I just did porno push-ups and can barely breath so go talk to the skinny girls!"

Now I'm at home. My ex called me tonight, being down just wasn't enough I suppose. I'm not going to let him get to me. How is it words can stab you where it hurts the most? He is an artist at knowing just how to reduce me into a pile of complete worthlessness who should be solely grateful for all he's done for me, or so he tries. I don't fall for it too easily anymore but I do admit it saddens me that he is so pathetic. I feel sorry for him. He told me a while back he would die wealthy with several cars in his garages, alone, and not have anyone to mourn for him. Again, I feel sorry for him.

I must go to bed. If I don't I will surely google strange words and terrorize myself with new theories of dark matter, bubbles, and eternity. I am odd. I accept it. Good night!