Last Tuesday, I was cleaning my apartment for my Uncles visit and wondered what the hell the smell coming out of the vacuum was. I opened up the container and saw the culprit. (If you have a weak stomach, stop reading here. Mom, just stop reading this blog.) Like a month ago I got puke on my bathroom floor (missed the toilet) and tried to vacuum it up in the morning. I didn’t rinse it out so now the puke was sitting at the bottom of the container covered in mold. It. Was. Fucking. Gross. I had to clean that shit out with my bare hands, too. Yet another rock bottom moment.
Saturday my friend and I went to the bar at noon to watch the Michigan State game. We started off at the “Alumni Bar” in Portland, which turned out to be all people in their 40’s who didn’t appreciate my excessive use of the word “fuck”. Our friend picked us up at half time and took us to a bar where my profanities were better accepted, which was good because we ended up sucking nut against Notre Dame.
We met a group of guys and ended up going back to their apartment after the game for an impromptu dance party. I should clarify, I wasn’t exactly blacked out at this point, but was definitely grayed out. At some point during the evening, I decided I had had enough and needed to get the eff out of there. I ended up walking to a random bar, ordering water, drunk dialing a few people, and ultimately ended my night the best way possible: knee deep in a sandwich and chips from my neighborhood deli.
I didn’t have a hangover Sunday for once in my life. Turns out, if you just chug the shit out of water in between vodka sodas, life isn’t a living hell the next day. This didn’t stop me from not contributing anything to society and practically getting bed sores from not moving off my couch. I ate an entire leftover pot of soup, then it was like “No Carb Left Behind”. Any bread or cracker within a mile radius was in my belly.
Monday I wore a low cut dress to work and also got free curly fries from the chef in the cafeteria. Coincidence? I think not.
On my run home from pilates that night, a hobo with a cardboard sign begging for money told me I was gorgeous and asked for my phone number. First off, that makes no fucking sense. If you’re begging for money, how the hell are you going to pay a cell phone bill? Second, my standards aren’t that high, but come on.
Last night I went grocery shopping and they had Thai curry cashews in the bulk aisle. Because I’m no more than a common thief, I filled up a bag and did my usual “snack and shop”. When I got home, I had 3 slices of bread and an ENTIRE TUB OF HUMMUS. Just the fact that it only took me 3 pieces of bread should show you the ridiculous portions I pile on a single slice.
MAX story of the week: An obese man got on the MAX, sat down, smelled his own fingers, gagged, then tried to wipe them off on the seats around him. I feel bad for anyone that sat in those seats after him.
Vegan Reason of the week: “Researchers at Harvard, Yale, Penn State, and the National Institute of Health have studies the effects of dairy intake on bones. Not one of these studies found dairy to be a deterrent to osteoporosis. On the contrary, a study funded by the National Dairy Council itself revealed that the high protein content of dairy actually leaches calcium from the body. After looking at thirty-four published studies in sixteen countries with the highest rates of osteoporosis – including United States, Sweden, and Finland – were those in which people consumed the most meat, milk, and other animal foods. In fact, in the forty tribes in Kenya and Tanzania, only one – The Maasai – have members suffering from osteoporosis. The Maasai, as it happens, are a cattle-owning, milk-drinking tribe.” (Freedman, Barnouin)