I'm not sure if it's the South Beach or a celebrated lack of Sertraline hyrdochloride in my system (Zoloft, it makes you fat, ask your shrink.) but I've lost a little weight. Yay. Dearest boyfriend is pleased, although not as much as I am.
I've moved into an apartment for the summer and it's pretty sweet. The walls I mean. Someone coated them with candy. (Not really, I just need to get out of the habit of describing something positive as "pretty sweet" if the thing I am not describing is not a food product that contains sugars, or small children, as I am neither a surfer nor a jackass.) But yeah, cooking and privacy, not to mention a closet twice the size of the one my that parents share, is a gratifying and somewhat new experience.
I'm reading Elizabeth: The Struggle for the Throne. I guess I'm just like everyone else that has a Tudor fascination lately. I was slightly mollified when I grabbed it off of the display at Barnes & Noble, then I remembered that I'm not a hipster nitwit and just enjoyed my book. The intense focus on her early life is excellent reading, not dry at all, however the author's selective bias in the research bothers a former history major. When the author used "I" the first time I assumed that it was the roman numeral, then I realized that "One believe that..." doesn't make sense, and that David Starkey broke the rules. If I can't use "I" in an essay in college then you can't use it in a supposedly historical book, and a spanking will be in order for the violator!