Food monster, not a food baby.

Ugh I at Taco Bell earlier and now I feel like an elephant stepped on me and left me in a ditch. I should have just let Lauren skype me into the meeting. I haven't been feeling so hot, I had the sniffles earlier. Maybe from eating ice cream outside to day or the act that it was just cold and damp all day. Anyways I came home this afternoon and took a great nap and almost decided to not to get up later for a meeting. I texted Lauren to bring her computer and that I would just skype in so that I wouldn't have to leave my bed. Excellent idea in conception, now I just need to test it out. And I was all set to do that but then I got a deep hankering for Taco Bell and wouldn't you know it, Taco Bell is Lauren's favorite fast food. So I drove all the way down to 63rd to pick Lauren up and all of the way back to Taco Bell and then all of the way back to school for the hockey meeting where I ingested fifteen minutes of Tex-Mex bliss before passing out in a food coma, rendering me glassy eyed and completely useless and unaware of anything Brian said all night. Oh Brian! I have a crush on another one of my coaches and unlike The Silver Fox, he's actually a possibility. The girls all think he' kind of funny because he never smiles and is really serious about the sport. I have been lucky enough to see him smile and see him in his glasses and now know that he too prefers Chipotle burritos over the cheesy mess that Qdoba serves up. And he has the build that I usually prefer: kind of toned, but not beefy at all. He's not as tall as other guys, but he's taller than me. Though most guys usually are.

Anyways because of the stupid sniffles earlier and the food monster living in my belly, I've been drinking a lot of tea. It's just so warming and comfy and the herbal sampler that I can buy at the grocery store is AWESOME. I usually get the Celestial Seasonings because they make an excellent orange tea, but Genuardis was out of it so I got the Bigelow pack and it's just okay. Bigelow does make a nice mint tea that I'm drinking now. I told My Hebrew Friend he should come over for a man-friendly tea party since he likes tea too. I think that means using the cow mugs and watching Hank. I should make him wear all his sweatshirts so that he can be a space heater when the apartment gets cold. Last night it was so hot even with the window open, but then this afternoon it was FREEZING! Grr stupid weather just get warm already.

12 days until the beach. Samantha ordered me some things so now I have make sure I pack enough Jergens tanning lotion for her. 

Not tired, not good.

So I finished season six of Weeds, got my homework done, made dinner, watched miscellaneous episodes of television that I need to catch up on and am now watching the latest episode of Californication. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I love Showtime. I also love that I'm going to Key West on spring break and when I come home Nurse Jackie will be starting a week or two later.

Key West, I can't wait. It's been a while since I've been all warm inside and out and I am willing to trade my mother's drippy and nostalgic stories about my parent's time in the Conch Republic for that feeling again. I'm even thinking about getting a real bathing suit this time, body image be damned. It's time for me to get tan again like when I was twelve and live in the sun for a summer. I've also been working out and so I figure I can ride the endorphins for a while and won't even notice if I look like a fat ass next to Samantha. I just want to be tan again and not look like Snow White's sickly sister in bed. Either that or I need to go back to having sex with really pale guys.

I did something stupid today. I got bored in theology (I know! Hot viking is boring! Who knew?!) and suffered from a little word vomit, or really texting vomit. Sorry about that, you know who you are if you still read this blog. Ignore it, it's over, I seem to right a lot of open apologies to you but whatever, let's talk about Weeds tomorrow instead of me.

This is nuts I should be asleep right now since I have to get up in five hours but I can't seem to get to sleep. I've been taking something for sleep, but I didn't do it tonight because I knew I would be able to get the required hours of sleep that the dosage requires. I do love those pills. My mother would say I'm on the fast track to addiction, I say that's the detriment of the gene pool she married into. 

Beat you to it.

Sometimes I wish I had a single parent like Hank Moody and was an only child living like Becca, but without the death rock black lipstick from season one. It would be like Californication, but with less writing and more cooking, and less longing for New York and more pining for the Jersey shore. But then I remember that I already have a half-assed Hank Moody and if he really were like Hank Moody we'd be living in a boat off the Florida keys and I would just be a tanner more self-absorbed and version of myself who would be hoping the fence to Hemingway's house than climbing the wall of the Barnes Foundation, and smoking more marijuana and drinking less gin.

I think it's the fact that I peaked too early in my world of responsibility. About mid-high school I wanted to do things, see stuff. I had a fucking ten year plan. Really it was just some bullshit that I made up ten minutes before a scholarship interview that would make me look good in front of the committee. They ate it up. Everyone always eats it up, the only person who sees through the crap is Lance, and that's only because I learned my deviousness from him, I'm just not sure where the less-genuine part came from. It certainly did not come from my mother, more likely the bitter struggle of the play ground and having fat thighs or some shit like that. Right now I just want to finish this stuff up and move to Tucson and start up that male prostitution ring that I've been knocking around with a friend. Wouldn't that be a kick? Or maybe Portland, Oregano. I recently watched the pilot of Portlandia starring Fred Armisen. The dream of the nineties is alive in Portland, where the tattoo ink never runs dry. The late nineties sucked balls on the playground, but I remember the early nineties being a pretty cool time. Portland aside, Philadelphia it's been cool and we'd better make the best of precious little time we have left together.