Milkshakes of Glorious Diet Death

Every Thursday from 8-10 pm, I have a social life. I go to the bookstore with my friend, because the bookstore has books, movies, and Bob. Bob makes drinks that taste like liquid seduction with whipped cream on top. I drink them even though I am trying to get my figure to look a little more Marilyn Monroe and a little less Lillian Russell. The only problem here is that I had one of Bob's mint chocolate milkshakes around dinnertime, so now I really don't need to eat again until - oh - 2011.

*urp*

Fashion

The tendency for the skies around here to cloud over without warning, even when the weather sites all claim they will be clear, means I don't usually get a lot of time with the telescope. So as soon as I realize I can see something outside I drag the telescope out and let the temperature equalize while I try to get dressed for the weather. This evening, I wore pink pajama pants, a black T-shirt, a red sweatshirt, green and purple socks, a gray hairclip, and blue and silver sneakers. Sometimes, I wonder how I got out of art school with a degree - it probably had something to do with working exclusively in monochromes for all four years, with maybe one color thrown in on each piece. No one realized until too late that color theory doesn't really exist in my world.

On the plus side, I got in 20 minutes of viewing time before the skies realized what I was up to and threw mare's-tails across all the good stuff.

Theoretical Social Life

I tell a lot of lies when I do my French homework. The textbook comes with this cheerful workbook that asks me, every chapter, to talk about what I did last weekend. (It's very unlike the grimmer workbook for my German class, which tells you about other peoples' weekends and makes you fill in the ugliest piece of grammar in every sentence.) Anyway, the book will, almost without variation, ask me to list six things I did last weekend. And I will tell it that I went to the movies with my friends, had dinner with my boyfriend (ha!) went for a walk with my parents, etc. Really, if I had the vocabulary to be totally honest, my typical weekend would go like this:

Thursday Night: Coffee and book night at Borders with the one friend I have not slunk unnoticed away from

Friday: Get up at 5:30 AM, go running, come home, pass out again until noon. Wake up again. French braid hair because it's unbearably greasy but I am simply too lazy to wash it unless I find I have to go out, which I never do. Pick up all the books and clothes off the floor. Spend several hours sprawled on the floor watching X-Files DVDs and struggling with Wheelock's Latin. Once the sun goes down, spend several hours reading and wandering in and out of the house looking to see if the clouds will clear away for 15 minutes so I can drag the telescope outside and look at something, even though they never do. If I'm very lucky, I can get a look at M42 before the clouds slam closed across the sky again. Get suckered into watching Mythbusters with my parents. Go to bed.

Saturday - Monday: Lather, rinse and repeat, except that sometimes I do history homework or something instead of Latin.

Occasionally, I find that I really did go out to see a movie that weekend, or talk to my brother on the phone, and I say so. But since I've lied about it for the past eight chapters, it hardly makes a difference.

Hello, Internet.

I'm starting this blog because the website where I kept my old one is having Epic Technical Difficulties and, well, being without a blog just isn't working for me. If, at some point, it revives with all my old stuff intact, I'll post a link. If not, you'll just have to imagine it.

So. I'm 23, female, and single. The rest you'll pick up as we go along, okay?