Actually, let's get that over with now. The semester sucked (again--I hate spring semesters), but it's over, I visited Heather at her school up in Marquette and had fun there, I learned how to play blackjack, I returned home and promptly began to chronically sleep in until 10 or 11, I acquired a somewhat long-distance boyfriend, then subsequently broke up with him, and I got a second summer job at Bath & Body Works.

Now, onto the important stuff.

I love the new items I just bought with my brand new associate discount. My skin has been scrubbed with bits of coffee beans and infused with caffeine, my face has been treated to a pore-refining mask, my feet have been exfoliated and softened, and I have brand new lotion. With cocoa in it. I can't stop smelling my arms. They smell so good.

It's nice to have some pampering stuff in the bathroom, because though I take as many breaks as possible with the constant weight of my mother's potential nagging hanging over me, I've been spending some significant time gardening. Or rather, weeding, since I have to hack through a vast amount of unwanted plants in order to have anywhere to plant. This is a major part of the Get-Liz's-House-Ready-For-The-Big-Party-She-Plans-To-Hold-In-Oh-My-God-Just-Over-Two-Weeks Plan. I need the patio to look nice, therefore I plant and make major plans involving a new walkway with stones and gravel/woodchips/dirt.

Camp hasn't started yet, but I go in on Saturday for Daisy/Brownie Day, and then training starts bright and early Monday morning. I'm looking forward to it, and it's going to push me back into a normal schedule, something I could desperately use right now. And I finally chose a new camp name: Sam. Short for Samwise, of course, because I'm a big fat dork, but it's simple enough that the campers won't have problems saying it and different enough from my own name that I like it.

The absolute best part of being home, though, is of course seeing Carol and Heather in person again. And both at the same time, even. Talking over AIM is nice, but just can't compare with the Trio's random-shit-while-we-hang-out-in-Perkins conversations. Especially since I have it on good authority that much of the fun they get from laughing at me and my jokes comes from seeing the expressions on my face.

It also helps that in person I am once again able (most of the time) to smack them upside the head on a fairly regular basis. And poke them in the stomach, kick them in the ass, playfully grab their breasts-- you know, normal friend stuff. Yeah, we're a bit strange in that aspect.

And while I don't think that's what brought it on, I recently suffered through a conversation I did not expect to have with my mother. While the other were having one of their regular arguments, I was asked if the relationship the three of us shared was purely platonic. Now, I'd already told my mother about the two of them, but I wasn't exactly prepared for the idea that my mother might think I was in on it. Because, as I said, no offense, guys, but. Ew. That'd be like fucking my brother, except that he at least would be the correct gender.

My mother did seem relieved when I responded in the negative. I wonder what exactly she would have said if I'd confirmed it. There's an evil part of me that says I should have done so just to see the look on her face.