two days left to smoke

A few newsworthy items: I am going indoor rock climbing tonight. I am also going to grow a mustache and purchase some combat boots, so I am sure that the dating will shortly subside.

Last night I went out with all of my college BFFs: Merideth, Megan, Kate and Karen. Karen has become my sporty spice manager. She’s the one signing me up for all kinds of ludicrous sporting events. On February 6th, I have insanely agreed to climb the stairs at Tower City in Cleveland to raise money for the Ronald McDonald House. She tells me it’s not a race, but I have I feeling that I am going to die. Stairs??? What am I thinking? In two weeks? This is going to be hella embarassing. How quickly will the EMTs be able to get up the stairs?

Also, one of my compadres brought along a dermatologist friend, Dr. X. He was very nice, but pair up five just thirty something women with a man who examines skin for a living and it can be very frightening —especially if he has perfect skin. After a few beers we decided that the appropriate thing to do is schedule our own Botox party. This is really going to happen. I thought that Botox is for the cast members of Friends. Not me and my friends. We’re too young. We turned 21 just yesterday. I realize my sarcasm lines on my forehead might be beginning to resemble the landscape of the movie Dune, but I absolutely refuse to concede to this yet. The friendly dermatologist also told me that I had to stop making my “Really?” face. Again, I refuse. How will people know that I utterly despise/disbelieve/mock what they are saying? Why doesn’t he just ask me to change my entire personality? That might not be a bad idea…

So with two days of smoking left looming, I’m kinda freaking out. I want to smoke every minute until then. I wonder if you can smoke in the rock climbing gym. I wonder if I’d be shunned by my friends if I got us kicked out for smoking on the wall.

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