First off, hello to everyone! **hugs** And, erm, second off? ...I have a sprained ankle. Ack. It's all swollen and puffy, and I've been walking around like a cripple the past few days. Not too much fun when you're trying to walk all the way across campus, up and down flights of stairs, at like 7:45 in the morning to class...I had to leave earlier so my slower walking wouldn't make me late.

So why is this newsworthy? Well, you may expect some great story involving my intense, daredevil feat that resulted in such an injury, or at least some sort of explanation that's worth a bit of excitement. At all. But honestly, I have no idea how it happened. Which sounds just like me, really - hurting myself with no clue whatsoever as to how it happened. It was probably something I did at the gym a couple of weeks ago, which is what I get for attempting to be athletic and get into shape when nothing in my history says that's a good idea. I mean, I hurt myself in gym class so often that I started to think I was cursed or something, seriously - one term of basketball shouldn't yeild two pairs of broken glasses (when I still had them), a skinned knee, a sprained wrist, and two jammed fingers. But alas, I managed it.

But the gym was going well...I mean, you get free membership to this high-tech, expensive gym with great equipment, so I figured I'd better take full advantage. I went for a couple of weeks pretty regularly, no major injuries, and even though I don't weigh myself (just causes freak outs, in my opinion), I do think that I lost weight and I felt a lot better. Needless to say, Spring Break brought on a huge reprise as well as some overeating, so I think I broke even in total. My ankle had been hurting throughout the break just slightly, but nothing major - not until I woke up on Thursday to find it swollen did I realize that something was wrong. Just peachy, a day where I have 3 classes.

So on Friday I go to the Health Center. Which was a pretty huge waste of time. It's a doctor's office on campus that pretty much charged me to tell me to put ice on it, take Ibuprofen, and then to give me an Ace bandage. Wow, how helpful, and so worth 45 minutes of waiting alone in a little room on a paper-lined table.

Anyway, a sprained ankle is not what made last week insane. It was just an insane ending to an insane week... But what I'm going to say might be self-implication...it involves alcohol...and to all those older people out there, I know I'm underage. *sigh* And I feel bad about it. But gah, it is college, and I still try to be uber-responsible. I did NOTHING fun in high school. I graduated with a 4.44 GPA, (highest honors), took a total of 10 AP classes, was a member of the National Honor Society, got straight-A's 6 years running, and was ranked 22 in my class of over 400. So I kinda wanted to have fun in college while still maintaining my grades (I got a 4.0 last semester, my first semester here, and was put on the Dean's list), which I think I can still do!

So anyway...*cough, cough* My sister, who is a senior in high school, came to stay with me to see what college is like on Sunday night, Monday, and until 4 pm on Tuesday. Recap: I'm responsible for my little sister for three days on a huge college campus. Got that? Good. See potential problems arising? Well, you're smarter than I was. So things were fine - she went to class with me a couple of times, hung out, and just had fun with me and my friends. Fine. But Monday night, when I get back from work, she tells me that she and Crystal (my roommate) had made plans to go hang out in Dillon's room, another friend of mine, at about 10 o'clock. My other friend Brenna as well as a couple of other guys would be there. This sounded fine to me - Dillon's a great guy, who yes, does party, but is more than anything just a nice and all around genuine person. I only wanted to stay for a little while since I had an 8 am class the next morning, and guys - it was a Monday night! Needless to say I wasn't exactly expecting anything. Long story short, alcohol eventually became a part of it. I drank some, but I'm seriously not a fan of it - making an idiot out of myself isn't something I want to partake in. I kept telling my sister that I didn't want her drinking, and that I was going to leave too - I was responsible for her, after all, not to mention worried. I'm a little overprotective of her, actually...what can I say? Big sister complex.

Well I guess she wasn't in the mood to listen to me. She has no idea what alcohol can do to her, but was just excited to be hanging out with the college kids. She wanted to prove herself, I think, to show that she was still cool even though she was in high school. So she went overboard. Against what she said, me and Brenna took her back early - stumbling and slurring her words. Awesome. We took care of her for about an hour, dealing with her weird ramblings and her lack of desire to drink water ("I don't like water") or to brush her teeth ("I don't like toothpaste"). Eventually, my other friends came back, and felt guity for the state she was in - and stayed with her for hours. They hadn't noticed, as I had (she being my sister and all), exaclty how much she had. And I choose then, at 3:30 am and in front of everyone, to start crying. Yep, pretty much making a fool out of myself, going on and on about how it was my fault and how awful a sister I was. It was just a horrible night, and I missed my class the next morning - which, if you paid attention above, is obviously not me.

My parents understood and didn't blame me, and Leah felt horrible for ruining the night and not trusting that I knew what was best. Dean was right when he said to Sam that being the oldest means you're right all the time. I totally pulled that card. In hindsight, it may have been good that it happened now, and not next year when she goes off to college by herself in West Virginia, without any idea about alcohol and around people that she doesn't know. She didn't remember anything the next morning, but trust me I let her know what she had done; as well as that it wasn't magical that she woke up with brushed teeth and in her pajamas safe in the room the next morning. Hopefully it's a lesson learned, but I'm still worried about her. I don't know how many of you have younger siblings, but drunk really isn't a state you want to see them in.

Oh, and later that week, I missed work because I got the flu. *sigh* But on Saturday, feeling better (though still with my sprained ankle), I went to a swim/dive house party - and that was really fun. It was the first time I had really gone out like that, and it was a good opportunity to wind down after so much stress.

Yesterday, though, my roommate dislocated her shoulder during practice, so now I'm trying to take care of her, too. She had a Percoset last night, so is still knocked out. But think intense, excruciating pain last night. I feel so bad for her.

Finally, I want to end this rambling insanity on a happy note: my aunt is scheduled for a C-section to have the baby tomorrow. This weekend, I get to come home and visit her! So that's definitely a better way to end the week than last week...

Sorry for the novel, but I REALLY needed to rant...