This is yet another incident that can only happen to Jenny. "Doctors' sloppy handwriting kills more than 7,000 people annually," according to an article from Time magazine earlier this year. And who knew I would be a victim of poor handwriting as well? (Before I continue, no, I am not dead, as I am — obviously — writing this. And the story is actually pretty funny.) Back in January, I noticed some horizontal ridges on my right thumb nail. I looked it up online and most websites attributed it to stress - psychological or physical. Well, I had been stressed from moving back home, starting a new job, and adjusting to living with the 'rents again. So I ignored it. Fast forward to now. The ridges got worse....

A long time ago in a place far, far away, a kindergarten class decided to do a dance for an upcoming recital. The choreographer had the little girls in a formation with the tallest in the middle, gradually tapering down to the shortest at the ends. The girls practiced for weeks and weeks and looked forward to showcasing their talent. The day of the recital arrived. It was a full house. Relatives traveled from hours away to see the kids perform. When the time came for the girls to do their dance, the teacher realized that although they had practiced many times in different rooms, they had never practiced ON STAGE. "Oh well," she figured. "They know their routine well enough. It's too late...

Is this a deep, thought-provoking, "where is my life going" entry? No. Destiny is a person's name. Keep reading - it gets interesting. Ever since I switched my cell phone number two months ago, I've been receiving numerous calls for someone named Destiny. I had just figured that my new number must be a recycled number, and that the calls will eventually stop. But they never stopped. Sometimes I would receive up to 5 calls a day asking for Destiny. Several times these calls came in the middle of the night. And they were all from men. I should have suspected something. But I never would've guessed...