It's all on you

There are just a few days of summer left (in my book, anyway). That means this weekend -- this roadtrip to Montana -- is my last shot at creating memories of the summer of '08.

Is that a lot of pressure? It sure is. I've done so much the past few months, but I can't help feeling like I need to go out with a bang.

I'm counting on the Scott family to make sure it happens...

A small favor

On the way home from meeting some of Renee's friends the other night for some drinks, the five of us stopped at Safeway to pick up a few baking supplies (Miranda wanted to make a cake for her friends who were working the graveyard shift all week). After making the rounds of the store and being stupid - a stein of beer will do that to you - we finally paid for our selections and began to walk to the car. I, as per usual and for no reason at all, checked my cell phone.

Which was 3 minutes into a phone call.

At midnight.

To my parents.

So now I'm wondering if: A) my mom and dad are sitting by the phone listening, waiting, trying to figure out who is calling them at midnight; or B) I just left a message on the answering machine that they will hear first thing in the morning.

What were the topics of conversation we covered? Beer. Finger condoms. Butt sex. I know there was some swearing. Possibly a racist joke or two. "This is not good," I remember thinking to myself, "not good at all." It turns out I had nothing to worry about because the computer was hooked up to the internet (thank goodness for dial-up!), but man, that was close. Late phone calls are never a good thing. It made me think of the time I answered the phone at 3 a.m. and it was some guy's collect call from Clackamas County Jail. I didn't know him, I had no way of helping him, so I hung up. I still don't know what I could have done.

To this day I wonder what happened to him.

In my dreams, literally

Oh Michael Phelps, the things I would do to you...

To be honest, I've never really considered the guy all that attractive. Yeah he's sort of cute in a nerdy-swimmer-with-big-ears kind of way, but nothing too lustworthy. I'd actually typically prefer the classic looks of Aaron Peirsol or Ian Thorpe. That was, until last night.

Seeing Phelps become the quote-unquote Winningest Olympian ever opened my eyes to his ridiculous abs, which, by the way, appear to be about as close to perfection as humanly possible. The thing that really got me going, however, was how much he reminded me of the pictures of Craig during high school. The big ears... the lean body... the muscles... the goofy smile... the cockiness.

I'd never EVER do anything to hurt Craig, and I certainly won't get a chance at Michael Phelps, but just so we're clear: It's not cheating if he reminds me of my boyfriend, right?

Two down, six to go

When you say you're going to do something, it's like "Oh, okay, maybe, we'll see what happens." But when you say you're determined, there is a lot more weight behind it. It's like, "Whoa, watch out, this person is serious." With that said, I am determined to stick with this new DVD workout plan I started two weeks ago. Mom and Dad have been following it for the past several months, and their results have been very positive. I can especially see the difference in my dad's physique. It's supposed to shrink your waist in eight weeks, so I guess I'll find out at the end of September. Wish me luck!