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April 24, 2003

It Was Like, So Bridget Jones

Calories: About 1200, v. v. good;

Cigarettes: None! Am total non-smoking goddess!

Alcohol Units: None! Am still too underage to drink legally.

BreathSavers Intake:: Two packages. Not entirely bad.

Temptations to Cheat on Diet: Awful.

Since I've been deprived of all carbohydrate and sugar intake (Yeah, I'm trying the Atkins Diet), I've been making amends this morning by downing as many round Breath Savers as possible. They're sugarless, which means they're safe to eat, but they're also addictive. No one ever thinks to tell you that. I feel like a 40 year-old woman trying to quit smoking cold turkey. It's awful. All's I want to do is eat a bagel--a flipping bagel, but I can't. I've got to stick with salty sausage and ham for the next two weeks.

Astronomy is coming up next, so I'm not going to have any more time to vent about all the comings and goings of my so-called college life. We'll talk about the pending gynecologist's exam later, okay?

About an hour later...

Well, it looks as if the gynecology exam isn't going to happen today. I can't say that I'm upset about it--I don't ever want to see any of those people again. The whole of my last visit was all about strangers putting their fingers and metal instruments in places that they didn't belong. I'll just leave it at that.

On another embarrassing side note, I almost got myself locked in a bathroom stall fifteen minutes ago. After Astronomy was over, I went down the stairs and ducked into the women's bathroom for a while, hoping to avoid Mark (Is it me, or is it just that most guys named Mark are incredibly annoying?). Whenever I go into any bathroom, the first thing I look for is the nearest handicapped stall. I guess I'm claustrophobic or something when it comes to bathroom stalls, because I can't remember a time when I've actually prefered not to be in the handicapped ones. It's just that they're so much bigger and nicer, and I don't feel as though I'm squished between two gray metal doors while I'm sitting down. Don't deny it, you know you've at least thought about it before. Really, if you're disabled, you really are getting the better deal by using one of those bathrooms. But I digress...

After sitting in the stall and biting my nails for a good two or three minutes (I do that a lot), I figured it was time to go. So I do the whole bathroom ritual by flushing and what-not (honestly, you know how this goes, right?), and the next rational thing was to open the stall door and leave. Of course with my luck, the door didn't want to open--the stupid lock just sat there frozen solid. I tried pulling at it for a couple minutes, and I even tried tugging at the hinges of the side of the door, with no luck. I must have looked pretty stupid from the outside--I know that there were at least two girls who had to have been watching what they thought was some poor handicapped woman's feet from the bottom of the stall as she grunted and pounded on the door. Pretty entertaining, I'm sure. Anyway, since I couldn't just crawl out from underneath the stall (if you saw the bathrooms in McPherson, you'd understand), I really had to battle my way out of there. Total escape time: Three minutes. Good job on my part.

Today's Soundtrack: "Bills, Bills, Bills," Destiny's Child

Best Part of the Day: Having the cafeteria lady in North Commons tell me that I couldn't use two swipes to pay for my own kid (aka, Alina). Too, too funny.

Second Best Part of the Day: Seeing Munish for the second time in a week. Is it me, or is he looking better every time I see him?

posted at 12:59 p.m.

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