Dramatic Sigh

I only have 25 more minutes of work to waste, so this is gonna be a quickie. Heh, quickie. First item on the agenda is that I would allow this macaroni and cheese that I’m eating to impregnate me with delicious, cheesy children. Just needed to put that out there.

Second item on the agenda: I’ve lost 3lbs but I appear to have gained about 10. I’m not sure where it’s going to/coming from, but my appearance and my actual weight do not match up. Also, I’m hungry pretty much all the time, which is weird because I normally never want to eat when it’s hot. This is the first summer where I’ve been like, “OH MY GOD CARBS AND CARBS AND CARBS AND CARBS! MUST HAVE MORE CARBS!” I have some sort of pasta-based disease that causes me to eat things I definitely should not (see item one) and then 30 minutes later, eat more of them. Last night? I ate half a loaf of garlic bread. And then spaghetti. I went to an outdoor music festival this weekend and it was 90 degrees. For some reason my friend and I decided we should eat Cheescake Factory, of all things, beforehand. And then we died of death. Jillian Michaels, where ARE you?

Speaking of things that do not involve my fat ass except as a spectator, the music festival was awesome. I never knew it existed because I sort of suck at life, but Westword’s Music Showcase is so on my summer calendar from now on. We only managed to see 3 bands, but they were good ones (and probably the only 3 of the bajillion acts that I had heard of – totally unintentional). If you’re bored, check out Tickle Me Pink, Air Dubai, and The Pirate Signal. I actually saw Air Dubai live a few months ago and thought they were great then. Those kids are gooood. I forgot it was obscenely hot and that I was a big puddle of sweat and rocked my face off.

Item four: I still love the Renaissance Festival. I also still wish some people had heard of a bra, but that’s just me. No, seriously, it really was just me. I was the only one wearing one. It’s not a pajama party, ladies. It’s a public place and you’re gonna hurt someone with those things. It’s always the women who look like they stuck 2 massive, unbaked loaves of bread in their shirts too – all floppy and pasty and jiggly. And if you’re offended by that, buy a mirror because you’re probably that woman. Congratulations, you’re making me not want this very historically accurate empanada that I’m eating.

Last thing. I saw the hot homeless guy again. He’s still hot. That’s not the update. Turns out, he plays the harp, which is a really random instrument for a homeless guy to play. He seemed slightly less crazy today too, and actually made non-creepy eye contact. Maybe he realized he should be my boyfriend and he’s trying to sane it up. Next he’ll get a job and a shower. Or, more likely, he’ll continue carting a harp around in his wagon and wearing a ripped sheet on his head. Either way. I swear to god, though, I’m getting a picture next time, even if I have to backtrack and hide behind a bush. Who is he to judge my crazy behavior? Exactly.