Oh, and I talked to New Roommate yesterday. She seems nice. "She seems nice," seems to be my standard comment about every new roommate once I meet them. Oh, and what I find hilarious--my mom already knows where the girl is from, because she answered the phone yesterday and asked. "Where is he/she from?" is the question my parents ask about everyone. I don't even know why. It says nothing about the person (but I guess they just like nonsensical questions, because the second is always "how tall are they?"). My first question would be more, "Major?" I would never bother to find out where my endless stream of roommates is coming from if I didn't know I'd have to ask them just to tell my parents.

Also, we went out to dinner (me & family, not me & roommate). I'm the type of person who has a favorite and gets it every time they're out somewhere, but I've been getting tired of the places we go to eat lately so I've been experimenting in order to widen my choices. Anyway, I've decided I'm one helluva picky bastard. I haven't been happy with any of the choices I've been making lately. Why this made it into my journal? I do not know.