I have ten minutes before I am to embark on an undoubtedly awkward phone lesson with my Japanese teacher. Such are the joys of doing a subject by Distance Ed. What are we supposed to talk about? I've been copying out kanji characters. Controversial stuff.
Today is Friday, which makes it official Eat As Much Junk As You Please day, because on Saturday you have all day to procrastinate working it off. It's an intricate and convoluted plan, but one I've had years to perfect. It's also the Boarder Barbecue. Don't worry - it's not as cheesy as it sounds. At least I hope not.
All it means is, at eight o'clock my parents have finished mingling with all the other authoritative-type people, and I get whisked away from the penitentiary for the weekend. Cousin's 21st - maybe I'll finally meet some boys who don't have to wear a collar and talk with a stutter whenever they encounter girls. You can probably tell we had the fortnightly dinner swap where we all went to have dinner with the boys' school, most of whom have not had female contact with anyone but their mother for longer than I care to contemplate. Not that I can complain - it's not like I've been inundated with steamy dates either. I've reverted to chocolate, the old unrequited love: I love it, but it does not love my thighs.
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