I miss having friends who will push you into a van and force you to accompany them on a thirteen-hour road trip. Yeah, we ended up having to spend the night on the side of the road in a freak snowstorm in Texas in a van with a giant hole in the front, but I would have been happy to freeze to death with those boys.

P.S. According to Google Maps, the Lonely Mountain is located somewhere in Idaho. I think Tolkien just rolled over in his grave . . . laughing. Like Idaho is really Middle Earth. Pfft!

P.P.S. To the three people who visited Rachelskirts.com from Idaho in the past month, I apologize. I promise to buy you a cupcake next time you're in Chicago. Just as long as you promise not to smash it in my face when I start laughing about that Lonely Mountain thing again.

I think I'm going to start making chat appointments when I'm using an instant messenger program. That way, I can talk to one person at a time for no longer than thirty minutes, and anyone else who wants to gab can leave a message after the beep. Trying to stretch my very limited wittiness across ten conversations at once is just too much for this old lady to handle. Plus, I really need a good excuse to force people to listen to hold music.

It might seem like a good idea to put off all your homework until the night before it's due, but when that time rolls around it will seem like a much better idea to fall asleep and never wake up.

In related news, Grannyskirts is apparently incapable of pulling all-nighters anymore. Getting old is lame.