Getting fat is honestly one of my biggest fears. I'm not a very emotional person and I don't cry often, but feeling like I'm gaining wait or actually seeing the number rise on the scale can make me cry for hours. I will have legitimate nightmares of getting so fat that it builds up on your face and sort of squishes your features. Of course this isn't something I would openly admit (which is why I'm confessing it) and I am so ashamed that I have such a deep rooted fat-phobia, but I see obesity as a weakness. I've done a lot of research and papers on this, and it is agreed on in the medical community that genetics is only the cause of obesity for 5% of obese people, for the other 95% it is controlled by their actions. I'm scared. I want kids, but I could never sacrifice my body for them.

Some days, I wake up and realize that I hate everyone, which means that the day would be a win if Titans just showed up and started eating people.

I get more excited talking about the story I'm writing than anything else, and it upsets me when people don't even care about what I'm telling them.

I'm a recovering vegetarian.

I don't understand how more bicyclist don't get killed on campus. Running stop signs and darting in and out of pedestrian traffic, you're not going to win out against a car.

I'm beginning to lose faith that there are any men that want a serious, committed relationship because of the number of times I've been used, cheated on, and how they act like they want the same things as me, then tell me "OH, btw, it's just FWB." :( Are there any mature men out there anymore?

My confession for the day. I get a phone call from my son's elementary school a few years ago. I was a bit confused but I answer anyways. It was to inform me that my son was with the principle because he got himself in trouble. They wouldn't go into the details so I left work early to go have what they said was an emergency chat. I drive over there ready to give him a good talking to and listen to the boring chat, yahdeya of the principle. I get in and the secretary smiles and turns around and starts cracking up. I hesitantly go into the principles office and there's my son in tears. I sit down and give him a mental glare for pulling me out of work for something I thought was a waste of time. Well the principle doesn't know how to start the conversation and I say well? She frowns and nods at my son to say what happened instead. He stutters that a girl in his class had poured rubber cement down his underwear. I sit back appalled. The principle nods and asks what I want to do. I say well first take him to a damn hospital! She says that I needed to check him out blah blah blah a bunch of BS. And I ask what is the punishment for the child that did this to my son. And she said there wasn't any girl that he had done it himself. Well lets just say after the hospital (I'll spare the grizzly details) I can guarantee my son will never do this again and will have an interesting story to tell in the future. I remind him of this every year. I later found out though that it was a dare one of his friends made him do.

Guys, please take note: it only takes two seconds to reply to a text message, whether it's saying you're busy, or continuing a conversation. She's not going to care about the response, as long as she gets one. In the end, you'll look less like an asshole.