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Thursday, July 23, 2009


That was the only diagnosis I could think of as I took the second call from Jennifer last night. I think she's counting down the hours until b-ball camp is fini. Her dad's on his way to pick her up now.

6:15 pm, call number one: hey mom, how are you doing? How are the cats? The dog? The lizard? My feet hurt and have blisters all over them? Did you tivo that gossip girls episode I asked you to? The food up here is great, but I"m soooo ready to go home. So tired. OK, talk to you later.

9:40 pm, call number two: (there were about 3 texts to her dad in the 3 hours prior) Hey how are you doing? Are you asleep yet? This freshman on our team is driving us crazy. She's snotty, she won't do the freshman chores, and she's insulting to the other girls and won't apologize and the coach doesn't seem to notice. Did I tell you I had more blisters on my feet. When's dad coming up tomorrow? Can he make it earlier?

Okay, see you tomorrow. Can I pick what we have for dinner? Can we stop by the outlet mall on the way down (no). Can we go see a movie (on the weekend). Ok, bye.

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