NaBloPoMo and Weight Loss

That's right, in August I will be NaBloPoMo ing. I also joined BlogHer, but I dunno how that's supposed to work, whatever.

Basically I want strangers to read my blog, but not people I know, because I like to write about them, somewhat abstractly. I don't really write about people I know aaaaall that much. Sometimes I mention something about boyfriend or an acquaintance, but other than that, nope. I already did that "blog drama" shiz before and I'm not going there again. It's immature, and if you want to make amends, well, sorry, you put that shit out there on the internet like a bitch, and it's pretty much out there in some form or another, forever.

I'm about to get back onto the diet bandwagon hardcore style. I've been losing weight, but I haven't been as... strict as I should be. Thank you boyfriend and his hating-eating-in-late-at-night deal, but whatever, it's my fault too. I just bought a bunch of groceries and I have some vague plans on making soup. I have pork and beef, because I'm f*cking tired of f*cking chicken. I have one breast left over, and faced with the prospect of actually throwing it into the frying pan, I proceeded to toss it into the freezer.

I am also going to Wally World after work today and picking up some 10 lb weights and an exercise ball, maybe a Pilates DVD or something. I dunno. I want to be toned, and also speed up my weight loss. Free weights is something I can do, and crunches on a ball. Pilates is fun. I know if I say to myself "I will run in that nice park a block away from where you live." I will just make excuses and not do it. (Some of them are valid such as: "I don't want to be raped." and "It's really f*cking hot." Others? Not so much. "I hate running." and "I'd rather just read Fark." stand out amongst that crowd.)

South Beach Diet and Other Things

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!