Working Out The Salvation

One of these days, I want to get an email from someone that says, "Guess what? Remember that email I sent to you as one of seven lucky people that I love? Guess what!? It worked! All of my problems are solved the little girl was cured of all her cancer and I met my soul mate and Christ's love has spread to the ends of the earth and of course, a wondrous image flashed on my screen and I won the new iPod nano!" Honestly. That email better come. In the meantime, I'll keep deleting chain mail. I thought the trend stopped in, I don't know, 7th grade? But no.

Speaking of 7th grade behavior, the row of us were definitely passing notes all during biochem and afterwards, whispering and giggling about what we'd written about. Our orgo prof, we (by 'we,' I mean a crushed Beth) discovered, after weeks of speculation (by 'speculation' I mean Leash staring at his ring, thus making him uncomfortable and removing said ring for long stretches at a time, which led Lauren to wonder if perhaps he only wears the rings on special days in rememberance perhaps of a dead lover) finally confirmed that former orgo prof BLinton is indeed married. ("I bet she's tall," was Mac's first reaction.) The fact that that knowledge was material for a good two hour's worth of jokes and teasing shows you how absolutely tiny my world at the Bo' is, how sad our lives are, but also, how absolutely hilarious class can be when we gossip about our professors.