It has almost been a year since I last updated.

I always do this to myself.

I say, "Hey, Callie, let's keep a blog. It'll be fun and interesting and people will comment and it'll cure your OCD!". But I never do. I always forget. I never have anything interesting to say.

WELL: GUESS WHAT, WORLD. I AM GOING TO KEEP THIS BLOG FOR AS LONG AS I CAN. IT COULD BE FOR SEVERAL WEEKS OR THE REST OF MY LIFE.

YEE.

Anyway, moving on. I have a series of little cuts all over my body. I don't know how they got there.

I haven't worked out in days. Maybe even a week. Why? Because honestly, I don't feel like it. I've felt like it before, I don't feel like it now. I want a beach body. I do. But really, I like my shape now, and who's to say that an ass is detrimental? Nobody. That's who. My current boyfriend (Ahh, I've had two boyfriends already) doesn't mind my imagined imperfections. He tells me "If I didn't like your body, I wouldn't be having sex with it." A sound argument.

I have twenty six combined pages to write before the end of the year. I have to rant about something for ten pages, as my Religion and Science teacher wrote an example paper that HAS NO QUOTES. Time to go to an alternate plane of existence and think about this stuff.