Un chanson d'ukelele

Yes, I am alive. Very much so. However, so many things are going on now that blogging has slipped from a conscious, mind-relieving habit to a chore. There is always something I should be doing now, and I think we all forget about these things during our lovely and lustrous days of summer. That must be why it always comes to surprise me that I don't actually have time to sit and read a book or even go for a run with my father.
Yes, world, I am back. Or rather, you are back, to cause me immense dementia and lapses of judgment. Why doesn't judgment have another 'e'? It should have another 'e'. Everything is wrong there. Some things are wrong here. But overall I think they're okay. But I haven't had time to really think about the state of them (things), so maybe they're not okay. But does it really matter?

 Dancing feels good to my sore body, and musical theatre feels good to my fading social skills and excitement factor, my boyfriend feels good to my needs for being kept warm, and Belgian chocolates and chai tea feel good for about everything, a master remedy, if you will. Math makes my head hurt and Social exhausts me and Music History threatens to swamp me. I like Biology. I wish I wasn't so squeamish, or else I would maybe have the potential to get a real job in some sort of Biology field.
I wish I had a sense of adventure, or the willingness to release myself to others judgments (there's that word again) without feeling inadequate. I wish I was like Hannah.
I wish I could talk to my friends for long periods of time again. Rachel, I was going to see you today, and we could've rounded Allison up too, but swear to FSM after my rainy run this morning I don't think I can move anymore. Numbers and transformations and reflections weigh me down. And I don't have fat shoulders, unlike some. So it can't just be me.

I want a muffin.
You'll have to do.

I'm also rhyming a lot lately. What's up with that, anyways?
(There was a girl, named Alicellen
Who took far too much penicillin
She got sick,
Very quick
Now no more Alicellen.)

Let's burn some bras.

(Katie McLean, I love you. Don't quit on us, please. We need you, regardless of the craziness and unjustness of castings.)