I'm at home yet another weekend. I took the bus this time. Well, not the bus. A bus. There are multiple bus services that take students between our middle-of-nowhere college town and various stops in South Florida. The ticket price of $45 is pretty reasonable considering the distance and the fact that it's a round trip. To my surprise, we got back to South Florida with little delay. I hope things go as well tomorrow evening, when we go back to Gainesville. I have class early on Monday, so I need to get enough sleep.

Some people say you should stop complaining about not having a girlfriend or boyfriend and do something about it. It is not that easy. I don't know about those people. Confidence is key. I forget where I heard that. I think I read it somewhere. But it seems true. If I were some girl, I probably wouldn't date me because I'd be like, "Like, OMG, he's so self-hating, even though he's, like, totally hawt." (Sometimes I feel totally hawt.) So I guess it works like this: self-confidence begets love. Love begets... oh, you guessed it. It's a vicious cycle. In order to break in, it seems, I'll have to conjure up some confidence out of thin air. There's a word for that, I think. It's called optimism.

In a completely unrelated note, I've realized how much I need to exercise. Without getting too much into the details, let me just say that the sight of my shirtless torso is enough to scare girls away. I wish I were kidding, but I am not. The last time our hero attempted some upper-body exercise, he overdid it and couldn't move his arms for a while. And that's been pretty sufficient to scare him (me) away from moving a muscle for the past two years. Just thinking about doing a push-up makes me hurt. Meanwhile, my roommate and our suitemate in the next room are, how you say, physically fit. The disparity is concerning.

Here's a list of celebrities who have attempted suicide (but failed).

Check out these French prints from 1910 showing what life might be like in the year 2000.