Sweaty-sweat-sweat-mess.

I've got a fancy luncheon to go to today. I've got to go change into my fancy shoes (i.e. a purple cocktail dress) and then run up the hill on campus to get there. So basically, I'm going to get all gussied up and forage my way up some hilly terrain in 90 degrees and 95% humidity. By the time I get there, I'm going to be a sweaty-sweat mess anyways. So whats the bother? Well, I'm going to have to put on my extra-strength deodorant and get ready for this mess. Ugh.

Side note. DBT, in two weeks. This makes my day a little brighter.

I wish I could eat this everyday!

Why can't cake (and more importantly, chocolate mousse cake) be part of the major food groups of nutrition? One: it tastes wonderful. Two: it feels like you are eating something wonderful. Three: it make your tummy feel like you ate something wonderful. Therefore, in all senses of logic it should be wonderfully healthy.

Of course, my logic is not exactly the most reliable. I would also eat donuts for dinner if John would let me. I suppose I should stop binging on deserts and get to making some real food. Something with spinach and other moderately tasteful green things. I will say I have eaten some delicious real food in my lifetime, but still nothing compares to chocolate mousse cake . . . or donuts.

Comatose, Brain Damage, and Boredom: Why my life craves jellybeans.

So, where do I begin? First, two week ago on August 6, Septimus finally woke up. I was ecstatic, naturally, as any sister would be regarding a brother's first semi-conscious moment in nearly a month. Three days later, he even began to lift from the semi-drugged state he was in when he first woke up. His eyes cleared from the morphine (or morphine knock-off) glaze and he started to do and say things resembling his old personality. He's in inpatient rehab now in Seattle and calls me everyday to tell me of his progress since I had to leave a week ago for the start of the new semester. It's odd to think of . . . Septimus, easily my favorite brother, had to become seriously injured before he would call me with any frequency. What does this say about him? Maybe he does have brain damage?

Anyways, life back in the mid continent is . . . to say the least, boring. I thought, oh, maybe things would pick up ever since leaving the life of hospitals and wound gauze and weird bodily fluids that come out of tummies, but it hasn't. I arrived home and slept. It felt like I slept for two days straight. John even unpacked my suitcase and did my laundry without my knowledge, I was so out of it. I guess I had wound myself up quite a bit spending every waking possible moment with Sep that I kind of went catatonic for a while when I knew I would have to anymore.

Well, on a lighter note, after I woke up from the deep-sleep, I binged on two of the best treats. The first being jellybeans! and the second being flan!

What can I say? I had been craving jellybeans for weeks . . . and flan? Who doesn't love flan? I think its the texture. I find it irresistible. This one turned out perfectly . . . so I gobbled it up.

Back, eh?

Well, I'm back. No more Seattle. No more hospitals. No more readjusting wound gauze. But I guess now it's back to another semester. Woot, eh?