Really? If I could hate my trainer? That would be ideal. I'd prefer to despise this person with the fire of ten thousand suns. So when I walk - nay, crawl - out of here at the end of my workouts, I want to lull myself to sleep by picturing my very talented and inspirational trainer getting hit by a bus. A bus that I am driving.

I think people tend to be very myopic and they dont understand how their actions impact others.

Although I get a lot of specialty services like wraps, scrubs, and mustache removal, my favorite is the simple manicure/pedicure. They work on your hands and feet at the same time while you sit in a vibrating chair. I call it the sorority girls version of a threesome.

I'm very detail oriented. I think that's why people enjoy my memoirs - because I tend to remember everything.

This is terrific! What fun! Maybe tomorrow I can go to the prom with my brother. The day after, perhaps I can wear white pants and unexpectedly get my period.

For the record? I have never been her baby. In fact, I reject the notion of coming out of her body. I prefer to believe I was hatched, or perhaps purchased.

Maybe I've moved to the dark side, but it's clean and nice and we never run out of toilet paper.