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May. 14th, 2006 02:37 pmI just did an insane fat-free food run at Pathmark, And I still feel great. I do have to eat out with my parents tonight, and I'm a little nervous about that, but they've assured me our destination has plain, grilled chicken. If I don't eat out, I think I should be able to easily keep my fat intake at below 3 grams a day, and even at 3 times that I can manage without drugs or too much misery. I'm not bloated and look like myself for the first time in months.
Saw Kali last night, who was in a woeful state as behooves the end of the semster. But we talked about descensus, and the story I'm writing with her as the heroine, and watched QaF and generally made sad, pathetic noises at each other, and it was fucking lovely.
Getting there, on the other hand. there's a bus near me that goes up to 125th and then across, acept of course at 125th, the train I needed wasn't running. So i took a cab, up the west side highway, and there was baseball on teh radio, and it was really pleasant, made me think of going upstate with Michael, but instead it was the Bronx and the girl and all the trees and cliffs and dark. And I have to say I love 125th Street, it's such a mix of things. Proper manners and utter casualness, that suburban Pathmark of doom, a Citarella now (not that I'll ever be able to buy food there ever again probably), the Apollo and The Square and Trowel Ballroom (yes, really). I like it. It's got a rightness to it.
We're going for our massage on May 23, and I think we're both so excited. Those poor massage therapists have no idea the insanity they're in for, although if they're lucky, we may go non-verbal fast.
Saw Kali last night, who was in a woeful state as behooves the end of the semster. But we talked about descensus, and the story I'm writing with her as the heroine, and watched QaF and generally made sad, pathetic noises at each other, and it was fucking lovely.
Getting there, on the other hand. there's a bus near me that goes up to 125th and then across, acept of course at 125th, the train I needed wasn't running. So i took a cab, up the west side highway, and there was baseball on teh radio, and it was really pleasant, made me think of going upstate with Michael, but instead it was the Bronx and the girl and all the trees and cliffs and dark. And I have to say I love 125th Street, it's such a mix of things. Proper manners and utter casualness, that suburban Pathmark of doom, a Citarella now (not that I'll ever be able to buy food there ever again probably), the Apollo and The Square and Trowel Ballroom (yes, really). I like it. It's got a rightness to it.
We're going for our massage on May 23, and I think we're both so excited. Those poor massage therapists have no idea the insanity they're in for, although if they're lucky, we may go non-verbal fast.
