2003-12-06

Weight: 174, Baby. There is 1 pound less of me to love. I hardly know how it happened- because I think I've been bad- very bad.

What I ate: Oreos (if you are going to eat junk, it's best to do it in the morning and further prepare your metabolism for junk. It's a theory I'm testing out), Double Cheeseburger and fries (just because my metabolism was prepared. Theory. Have to vigilantly test. You know how it is), 4 diet cokes, 1 water (not good).

What I did: walked around Dana Point Harbor with my cousins and my aunt, watched a movie with same, contemplated cleaning the kitchen cabinets out, played with the internet.

So, friends and neighbors. I want to know. Is this boring? Me listing (and defending) what I ate can be boring to people that aren't me. Tell me if it is. If so, I give full permission for you to skip past it. It's just something I'm doing to see if it works. Another theory. If I examnine how I spend my time and what nutritional choices I make, they cannot help but get better. Right?

Riiiight?

Oh, shut up.

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My new counter tells me how people get to my diary. I've had seven visits since I put the thing on last night. I can't tell who they are, though. Is one of them obsessed with me? Is the possible obsessed person a man or a woman? Do they dress up like me- or like they think I would dress based on my entries? (psst! Jeans, black shirt, black docs, colorful socks! There are variations, but that one is classic April) I sort of want someone SWF-ing me. I mean, there's Krazy K, but she wants to make out with me so there's that dark side to it. It would be cooler if the obsessed person was a man, but he was a drag queen too. And he dressed like me. In college, we had this party where all the Freshman dressed up like a senior of their choice. This one kid, Justin, dressed like me. He wore a short skirt with stockings, chunky shoes and a black shirt (see? I have about eighty-six black shirts). That was my uniform back then. Now I wear jeans a lot because I don't want to shave my legs.

Sometimes I am so scared of having a boyfriend or husband. Of course, they'd have to be mad about me and want to have their way with me hourly. That's one quality they must possess. But what if they tried to sneak-attack me in the middle of the day and I had no warning and no chance to shave my shaveables? Then they'd surely divorce or dump me. I'd probably end up spending half my day in the bathroom just to make sure this does not happen.

I'm paranoid about everything.

I was worrying that Triptophan (spelling?) from Thanksgiving turkey would show up in my drug test and they'd brand me a junkie. I was afraid that caffeine would show up, but in such large amounts that they'd think I was a diet pill junkie. I told the nurse five times that I had taken an anithistamine two days ago.

Everytime I'm in the car next to a cop, I'm positive that I'm doing something wrong and he'll come up and slice my license in front of me like a snooty maitre D at a French restaurant.

I need to start drinking on a regular basis. Or maybe sniffing glue. Because it can't be healthy to be this jumpy... Just to calrify, kidding. Won't really sniff glue. So afraid one of my aunts will read this and tell me how she worries about me, all as a result of my hyperbole.

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Watched Bringin Down the House. What a slow movie. They needed to shave about half-hour of unnecessary footage and long, long, long pauses off and put in more Eugene Levy. Who directed that? Did they ever hear of comic timing? You can't just hand us a joke and expect us to laugh at content. There has to good delivery and a faster pace otherwise the whole thing falls flat.

Unless you have more Levy to spice it up. Because Levy? He rocks.