I've not been one for making public entries lately. I may return to making them sometime in the future, but for right now I don't want random people coming here and reading my thoughts.
Anyhow, for your conenience I have left up all previous public entries for you to poke through. If I seem interesting, tell me who you are and where you found me, and I'll be more than happy to add you.
So. My family got a new scale. You can imagine that I'm having a lot of fun, what with the fact that this one reads a pound and a half heavier than our old one did (before it broke, that is). I have no idea whether this is because our old scale simply read low, or because in the few days in which we had no scale, I gained a bit of weight. Both are logical, and both are acceptable, except that I really really really hate the numbers that this new one is giving me.
Let me start out by saying this: I know why I'm overweight. I have a massive sweet-tooth and the self-control of a... a... thing with no self-control. (I will pay top dollar to whoever finds my brain and returns it to me unharmed.) The point is: There is cake in our house. It's my birthday cake, so I feel entitled to eat a piece every day. However, the grand total of my physical activity is going up and downstairs for food and typing. I'm sure you realize that this is pretty much as sedentary as it gets, and that means that I pretty much have to stick to a very tiny amount of calories or I will gain weight. It sucks.
So, I propose to you this: I want to see someone invent a pill or something that will have your stomach say enough. Not an appetite suppressant per se, but something that hit x amount of calories during a meal and then "Nope, no more. You're DONE. Come back in six hours." Unfortunately, I have no idea how something like this would work, or I'd try to make one myself. Thank you utter lack of advanced science skills!
Please, tell me I'm not the only one who thinks of stuff like this. (And if you do/have/thing, please share them with the class. I'm nosy like that.)
Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me! Happy birthday, dear Victoria... happy birthday to me!
Or, you know, I'm trying.
I'm 20 years old now. That means I'm now in my third decade of existence. I'm not a teenager anymore. I'm... I'm... a grown-up. (Theoretically, of course, I mean I still can't buy alcohol, which is DUMB.) I'm not a kid anymore, even more than when I turned 18 and became a legal adult.
I'm not sure how I feel about that.
So yet again we enter the yearly scramble of "Where the frick can I get a fricking swimsuit?". Every year, the result tends to be the same: Me crying in my bedroom, hating my body and hating myself.
This year, I got to do something different: I got to... hate the company!
And it was legitimate! The suit I ordered (finally enough to cover me up, unlike previous swimsuits that apparently wanted my stomach and boobs to fall out if I so much as moved) just didn't work. Shoddy design was apparent all through, leading me to the conclusion that this suit was not designed by anyone who would ever need to wear it. It had an underwire built in, great! I'm a DD, I kind of need one, even in a swimsuit, otherwise they become like two giant, fleshy missiles, and no one wants that. The problem was that this suit, which I ordered in DD size 8 because that's what size a 36 band is for Eddie Bauer, was definitely designed by someone who would never need to wear it. That's right, folks, the under-endowed are trying to design for the over-endowed, and that just doesn't work.
The underwire was attached at the top to the front of the suit. The underwire was attached at the top to the front of the suit.
Okay, for someone with an A cup, that's fine. The top, for someone with an A cup, is meant to lie flat along your chest and come up over your chest entirely. That's fine. For someone with a DD cup, however, the top did neither of those, and since the underwire stuck up much too high, that means that someone with a DD cup would be left with the following problems:
1) No more comfort and support than a shelf underwire, and shelf underwires are neither comfortable nor supportive.
2) A wire resembling a unicorn horn poking up from the middle of your chest due to gross miscalculations of where the bit attached to the underwire would fall on my actual chest.
3) Crying for loss of yet another opportunity to go to the beach, pool, et c., without looking like a hooker.
I wish I had taken pictures of the epic FAIL for you guys to look at, but I was just too disgusted. The offending pieces got shipped back immediately; they cost too much not to do so. I kept one of the bottoms, though, since it fit me very nicely. I have also ordered a suit from FigLeaves; we'll see if that one holds up to my
Okay, so there's a song that has been bugging me for a very long time. Two and a half years, in fact, since I heard it for the first time playing via webcast at the DNA Lounge. And now? I. Know. What. It. Is.
Ernst Horn will be the death of me yet. His music follows me.
My parents just gave me and Amy each $25 for the respective helpful things we did. Because the pie was a lot of work for someone who has otherwise pretty much stuck to stroganoffs and cupcakes, and because the dog was filthy. I feel rich! And that's sad.
Today was quite a productive day! Granted, I didn't get anything done that I was supposed to for my classes (oops! Sorry!), but I was certainly able to get a whole lot of other stuff done.
1) Left the house. It was only for a few minutes, but I got out for a tiny bit! Oh, how much that helps me; I always forget. And of course most of the day it's been raining (complete with huge amounts of thunder and lightening, which may or may not have woken up my computer but which certainly woke up me), but Amy and I were able to catch the weather when it was sunny and cheery out. I bought gloves! So I can re-dye my hair!! I did not find an adequate comb, though, and I did not get water ice, but considering I'd already had ice cream and I put on way more weight than I thought I had at college... oh well.
2) Washed the dog. Meaning my sister did it mostly and I helped. Holy crap, he actually looks like a Portie again! His hair is all shiny and black and white... with the little bits of grey thrown in. Barney's old, and fragile, but at least he doesn't smell bad anymore. Also, he seemed lighter, freer, and invigorated afterwards, even going so far as eating kibble! He hasn't been eating well lately, so my mom is going to start giving him some wet food meant for senior dogs, but the fact that he was eating period is a good thing. Also: Poor dog. Barney hates getting wet, and baths are the ultimate indignity to him, but he always puts up with it so well once he's in. Almost makes me feel bad for doing it to him. (On the other hand, Water Dog my ass!)
3) Cooked dinner. Made vegetable pot pie. I thought it was going to turn out an epic fail, but it wasn't so bad at all! Other than the crusts, I mean. Those were still pretty much fail-- I'm going to try a different kind of crust next time and see if that helps. The "top" crust that was purchased was actually a bottom crust, soooo it looked really dumb on top, and when I tried to cut holes in the top it kind of just made the entire crust split. Oops. My mom really liked it, although I still haven't gotten any reaction from my dad, who didn't get home until not too long ago. I liked it, too, and I'm not going to mess with the herbs at all. Maybe a little less thyme, as it was slightly overwhemling (especially since I had extra from the poultry seasoning), but the sage was good, the poultry seasoning was good, and I am very much going to have to learn more about tarragon. I'm definitely stocking the spice rack with the aforementioned herbs next year (yes, I want a spice rack. I'm a dork like that).
Today also did not include one very important thing:
1) No fights with Kendrick. My anxiety and moodiness have been out of control lately, and we've both been under a lot of stress (me, school, him, friends' wedding), sooo it hasn't been so smooth lately. Worst moment: Probably when I was crying and screaming hysterically and he asked if I needed him to call my parents and tell them I was having a nervous breakdown. The whole bit about seeing a psychiatrist and getting some of this sorted out is very much in consideration. For the moment, though, I'm okay, we're okay... it's all okay.
Aaaaand now paper. Boo, paper! Yay, only 1000-1500 words including internal citations! No clue about whether the Works Cited will count towards that, but even if they don't I think I'll still be okay.
P.S. Probably going to go see The Hangover tomorrow with Amy. Will still have to check with her about that. Also, PMCA's graduation is Thursday evening, so again more getting out of the house! Yay!
Congratulations, self! You have truly gone above and beyond the call of normal OCDish-ness.
( The contents of an entire online class, on my desktop. Cut for largish image.Collapse )
In sum: It's a whole lot of reading, a buttload of assignments, and one lonely iTunes window hidden at the veeeeery back, because I can't read without music. Why no, you are not the first person to suspect I have ADD; thanks for asking.
P.S. No, not all of the programs open are open on that desktop. I use Spaces, which means I can have a desktop for work and a desktop for play if I want to. (Very nice for private Internet browsing during class, apparently, although I very rarely use my laptop for note-taking.)
P.P.S. I typically don't use Firefox on my Macbook, but Webstudy doesn't always play nicely with Safari, so I have little choice.
P.P.P.S. The course in question is Survey of British Literature I, meaning Anglo-Saxons to Enlightenment satire. Just in case you cared.
It's sad that, less than a week after my return home, I'm already running out of things to watch on Universal Sports (the actual TV channel, not the website. LOTS to watch there, not that our Internet works all that well). I mean, I love equestrian show jumping! But I don't really want to watch the same event over and over again.
In short: I am bored. I can't even do things for my online classes because our Internet is being unreliable (thusly I will continue to read Beowulf and my Psychology textbook, planning on posting tomorrow). Murrrrh.
So, three days into my summer classes (and one full day out of exams! Have I passed? I don't know, and it actually is a concern this semester! Thanks a ton, anxiety from hell!), and I'm already behind in my homework. Why? Because my psychology textbook is freaking annoying. I mean, I am a very visual learner, and according to several well-trained professionals (and, you know, most people who know me very well) I probably have ADD. And yet, this textbook offends my eyes. Pictures, diagrams, and little funny coloured special boxes with factoids show up on every page! I can't handle it; it's visually over-stimulating for me. I can't focus on it and listen to music at the same time or else I go into sensory overload, that's how bad it is.
... Oh, gosh, and I just realized I don't get notes or lectures for the class, either. Which means I have to read the book. Halp! My eyes! They is burning!
P.S. We're driving home via Niagra Falls this time around. Which means I'm in Flint, a city with Tim Horton's. I am totally going to demand donuts tomorrow when we leave.
[Edited P.P.S.: There are four (4) Borzoi (Russian wolfhounds) in the car next to ours, directly underneath my motel room window. And they are unhappy about having to be left in their kennels in the car (and yes, they were only left there after dark, and they have had walks and exercise and cracked windows for fresh air). They are whining. I am tiring of it. They are gorgeous dogs, but I would never be able to deal with that. Never.]