Mmm....

Apparently, I can cook. Grilled hawaiian teriyaki chicken FTW!
Fuck you, body.

I know where you live.

DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN.

LEMON SORBET IS DELICIOUS.

IT'S DELICIOUSNESS RIVALS THAT OF CAKE.

I know I sound like a 45-year-old overweight mother of two squealing about the latest Oprah-sanctioned Atkins-brand weight loss dessert bar, but I don't care. DELICIOUS CAKE!

OUR TASTEBUDS CANNOT REPEL FLAVOR OF THIS MAGNITUDE!

So I'm gonna try and go this whole post without any sarcasm or meaningless alliterative rambling; I think it could be good practice.

Think I'm finally sick; just a scratchy throat, but it still ruins my silly record. I wanted to make it to 2008 without getting sick again; then I could say I hadn't been sick in over a year since changing my diet. Oh well, maybe nobody will notice. Or maybe I just lost my voice talking to customers over the weekend; yeah, that's it.

Feeling lazy all week; wanted to keep up with my increased weight-lifting program and diet, try and put some weight on; but every time some tiny bit of muscle builds, it looks funny to me. I think the fault lies squarely with my low self-image; when I look in the mirror, I don't have any sort of outside reference. This is why I always think I'm not really that tall; when I look in the mirror, I'm the only one there. When it comes to my own perceptions, well, I've spent most of my life looking at my peer's foreheads so it doesn't seem the least bit strange. But when I glance in a mirrored storefront while walking with my friends or biking past total strangers (today), I notice how tall and gangly I look in comparison. Believe it or not, that's a good thing; I've spent most of my life being tall and hulking, so being tall and lean is kinda fun. Still, it doesn't help that every time I see a little muscle building on my funky-shaped frame I think it looks weird. The point? I haven't been hitting the gym as hard as I've wanted, and I've unconsciously slipped back onto my weight-loss diet. While it's nice to feel light, I don't think I need to lose any more weight. Ahh well, I'm still healthy.

Biked around town today to check prices on cell phones, feel a little less lazy. I'm seriously favoring the LG VX8300, which is really irritating because it's the exact same phone Tyler had, until he upgraded for the umpteenth time. While it's great for him, it's mildly irritating because I'm looking at paying (at the cheapest) $120 or so for a phone that he essentially had no use for (and thus could have given me a significant discount on, if not for free) but unfortunately, he lost it somewhere at Steven's; since anything lost there has essentially no chance of ever finding it's way back to us, I've actually got to pay money to replace the phone I destroyed. The injustice! Still, I'm looking at buying a refurbished phone on eBay (that's the price above; new, the handset runs to about $230) and praying for a good seller.

Need to start my research for the research paper due a week from today; probably tomorrow.

Ahhh, lunchtime. Turkey sandwich ain't so bad, but Trader Joe's eggplant hummus = ultimate win. That's about the only good thing I managed to get out of that place; why is it so goddamn hard to find bread and bread-related products that are 100% whole wheat? WE WANT 100% WHOLE WHEAT BREAD. Not 7-grain enriched bread, not multi-grain enriched bread, PLAIN BREAD IS STILL GRAIN. WE KNOW. Stop making me have to look like some goddamn hippie freak reading all the damn bread labels for your hidden enriched wheat flour and high fructose corn syrup, JUST MAKE A WHOLE GRAIN BREAD. OBVIOUSLY, WE DON'T CARE HOW IT TASTES. WE'RE HIPPIES, IF WE WANTED CHEAP TASTE WE'D BUY WONDERBREAD. Sorry, I harbor a great deal of unrequited anger at bread manufacturers. Bastards.

Wow. Somehow, I manage to waste a ton of time accomplishing very little. I've got to head out around 6, and it's already five and I've yet to get a shower, feed the animals or prepare dinner, much less start researching Joan d'Arc or spend any time working on preparing game for Thursday. I also wanted to do a bunch of crunches; oh well.

Man, I hope we make it out to the beach on Friday. I'm tired of arguing with people.

The portrait of the studious black man below is titled Barefoot Prophet; taken by James VanDerZee in 1929, it's an image of Elder Clayhorn Martin of Harlem. Also known as Prophet Martin or the Barefoot Prophet, Martin was known as an eccentric street preacher who would wander the streets proselytizing to whomever would listen.

Just so you know.

Bored.

That is all.

Oh...

BEACH ON FRIDAY BITCHES.

Carry on.