Read this entry with a Bye Bye Birdie-esque voice in mind.

Dear Diary,

Wow! It's been a wild time, this last week! Diary - there's so much going on, I haven't even been sure what to write in you (no! don't worry! I haven't forgotten about you!)! I just don't know where to start, Diary! Since I know how much you love pop-culturally-relevant organizational structures, let's categorize this entry into the good, the bad, and the ugly, shall we?

The Good:
Well, Diary, there's been a lot of good this past week! For starters Mary and I met up with some of my friends from Arlington and trucked down to the beach for Labor Day weekend. Oh, Diary, you would have loved it - there was taboo, and ill-advised-night-swimming, and a hot tub and EVERYTHING. Diary - it was an x-treme slumber party, only...with 20 people in a house many of whom I didn't know and one of whom I accidentally got nicknamed "Hot Kevin." I...I don't believe "Hot Kevin" and I ever actually exchanged words. Diary, trust me, that story is nowhere near as interesting as it sounds - but I like to pretend anyway.

Anyhoo, Diary, after the Fun Times And Constant Adventures of our Totally Radical Beach Bonanza, Mary and I returned to the 'noke for the official First Day Of School. We sat in our office and told kids we weren't the math department and EVERYTHING. The first day was a littel scary, Diary, I'll admit (wait for "the bad"), but we survived. Yesterday and today we spent in training related to our job - we've now got more concrete goals in place, as well as access to student records and official passwords and such. Before long I think we're going to be rolling along at a good clip here, Diary. Before long, we're actually going to feel like we are Real Employees with Real Jobs. Maybe they'll even actually send us a pay check, one of these days. Diary - a girl can dream.

The Bad:
Diary, I have a confession to make: this label is deceptive! I'm just going to talk about things I already mentioned in "the good" but show their flip sides. Diary, I am not good at artificially imposed organizational structures.

While, at the end of the day, I think we were able to make pretty good use of Tuesday at Fleming, amongst the student hoards, things were looking pretty rocky there for a little while. After we spent a good hour cleaning and organizing our office, Mary and I looked around and tried to figure out what our next step should be upon which we came to a series of realizations. In short no one:

• Knew who we were
• Knew what we were doing there
• Knew where we were supposed to be
• Knew when we were supposed to be there
• Knew what we needed from them
• Knew what they needed from us
• Knew that we really really really aren't interns

This, Diary, could have been scary timez. Similarly, but differently, this could have been Slacker Timez. Thwarting both the scary and the slacker, Miss Mary and I cooly, calmly, and collectedly compiled a to-do list, and went about to-doing it. Furthermore we discovered several of our direct allies on the Fleming campus, the college and carreers sections of the library, that we are in love with everyone we've met so far, and that the class-change bell rings unnecessarily loudly. Diary, it could have been The Bad, but instead, it was The Productive.

Diary, you may feel a bit as if I am tooting our own horn. To that I say merely: toot-toot.

The Ugly:
Diary, I got a little extra sun on my face, and it's lightly peeling these days. This is not metaphorically ugly - but literally so!

Also, Mary and I convinced ourselves that we wanted to watch Drew Barrymore and Eric "There is nothing interesting, compelling, or talented about me - but I do have very nice hair" Bana in Lucky You last night. This, Diary, was a poor choice of great magintude.

Now, Mary and I knew that Lucky You probably wasn't going to be great, and we also have fairly high standards when it comes to our Chick Flicks. We don't like to boast but, well, I'd consider us Chick Flick connosiours. But, Diary, much as even a seasoned fancy-resturaunt-reviewer (those people have job titles, but I can't be bothered to look it up) still probably likes chicken nuggets and jell-o salad from time to time, we can appreciate a truely bad flick of the chick variety. Lucky You wasn't bad in the, "so bad it's good" way, though...it was just bad. Really bad. Drew Barrymore was cute, but also her wardrobe was often brought to you by The Nineties. And, while I know my feelings on Eric Bana are so difficult to decipher, I just do not get why people find him interesting, compelling, or talented. (Dear Cor: I know I haven't seen Munich. BUT I HAVE SEEN Troy, The Hulk, and Lucky You. THREE STRIKES!) Also the writing wasn't great. Also I think they cut out all the scenes where relationships were built believably. Also I do not understand poker well enough to get it as a detailed metaphoric structure. Also, I was too busy whining about how I didn't like the movie to enjoy the good parts, I am betting.

Finally, and non-relatedly, my need to be A Real Grown Up Who Is Older And More Mature Than High School Students during the day has led me to drastic, drastic measures in my off time. Today, I wrote out this phrase: "kute boiz." Yes, Diary, it was in irony - but "kute"?! That's...that's not even actual teen slang. That's just dumb.