| ...a day in the life of a mouse |
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| ...a day in the life of a mouse |
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2006-07-20 - 1:13 p.m. Ok…so if you know anyone from India, get them to make halva for you. One of the ladies from work brought it in. I’m not sure what she puts in hers (from what I can tell, it’s sort of an individual thing, and all the recipes I looked up online were different), but I plan on extracting the recipe from her….with force if necessary. Also, there are, apparently, TWO kinds of halva. There is the kind that they sell in the supermarket which is a Mediterranean thing and made from tahini (sesame seed paste). And then there is the Indian stuff, which is made from semolina (think cream of wheat). I think I need more “ethnic” friends. They always introduce me to the most delightful tasty treats…. ::: So, I think I’m addicted to Avon. I’m a total Avon junky. It totally doesn’t help when your best friend is your dealer, too. Actually, it’s her sister who is my dealer…so I guess that makes her a runner? Or something. It also doesn’t help when we work in the SAME OFFICE!! She brings in the books…leaving them innocently at the front desk, knowing all the while that I will be drooling over all the glittery, sniffy, shiny, wonderful things on my lunch hour. I mean, I just got in my most recent order yesterday…and already I’m greedily pawing through the book for next month’s campaign seeing what new things I cannot live without. ::: I am still doing pretty good in the weight loss department. Granted, it’s not coming off as fast as I might like…but I also know that a) it’s not healthy to lose weight too rapidly, and b) I didn’t pack all this lard ON my body in 3 weeks, so I really shouldn’t expect to take it off that soon either. There are bad(good) things about weight loss though. My pants are all baggy. Which is good…except that my pants are all baggy. They look like crap. I look like I stole some old man’s trousers or something. Which is GOOD because it means I’m not so fat anymore…but it’s bad because now I need new pants. But I can’t go get new pants yet, because I’m still losing weight, and the new ones would soon look like the old ones, and then I’d STILL need new pants. Follow? Also…and really this is not TOO much of a big deal…but my BOOBS are getting smaller!! I don’t have really big boobs. I never have. So, really I don’t want to make them any smaller than they have to be, yanno? But at the same time…I’m not really vain about my breast size. I’m not one of those women who equates who they are as a WOMAN with how big their BOOBS are. Who I am as a person, and how womanly I am or feel, has more to do with who I am on the inside…not how big my bra is. The really good part is, that I can now buy NORMAL bras. Like…cheap, pretty, colorful ones, at W@lmart. I am no longer freakishly proportioned. Bras at Walm@rt are CHEAP! Therefore, I can start buying matching bras & panties in all KINDS of colors!! Yay! ::: Just so you know…if you have a nauseating fear of bugs and have, in fact, had night terrors about bugs since you were about 2 years old, then I suggest you do NOT watch programs on TV about women who go to Emergency Rooms because they have BUGS crawling around UNDER their skin. And if by some chance you happen to land on a channel with such a program while you are channel surfing, do NOT continue watching the rest of the program up to and including the part where they PULL BUGS OUT OF HER SCALP WITH FORCEPS!!!! *full body shudder* Cuz, ya…that would be stupid to do. *cough* ::: Here’s a selfish thought…I sometimes wish my friends were as boring as I am. Then, every time they phoned, or emailed, or came over…there wouldn’t be so much drama. I love my friends. Melodramatic or not….but sometimes it would just be easier if everything in life was not a major traumatic event that needed overcoming. It would be nice if we could just sit and drink ice tea, talk about stupid things that didn’t matter, and then say goodbye for the afternoon and get on with our lives. I have things that happen in my life that I don’t know how to deal with. Things that make me angry, or sad, or despondent. But I think (hope?) for the most part I keep all that shit to myself. I don’t want my friends to have to worry about if I can afford to eat, or where I’m going to live, or if I drink too much. When I call people up, I don’t want them to be on the other end of the phone rolling their eyes, wondering what the fuck my problem is THIS week. I just don’t DO drama. i don’t know what to do with people who thrive on it. I don’t understand it. i find it exhausting. I mean…what’s so wrong with just wanted to go to work, come home, have a quiet evening at home where everyone actually LIKES everyone else, and then go to bed in your boring flannel pajamas? 
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