Preppy is the New Hipster

my dissertation is done. i dont want to discuss the quality of it. im glad its over so now i can concentrate on more important things, like my novel. bitches!

I'm ready for the next 24 hours. yes! then, i want a bloody mary, a margarita, a hendriks martini and a bottle of champagne.

Seriously, I did. My brother and I did a 'country walk' yesterday from some town called Shelford to Cambridge. I was really nice. We walked 13 miles and John didnt even complain about me being pmsy(ah the well-trained married man). When I am bleeding I have to pee like every five minutes, which I normally need to do anyway, but this was especially bad. I really had to go. There was a nice big tree and no one was in the cementary. whatever it was fine, no need to make excuses.

The count down is on! 50 hours til the dissertation is due. I dont even really care. I'm sure I'll pass, but I do need to finish it. ciao for now.

So as part of my self-imposed exile from the outside world, as I wittle away at my paper (due fucking friday!), i have decided to do something that I always think about but can never due bc of the ensuing horror that follows eating an entire head of roasted garlic. But since I'm not really allowed out of the house right now, I figure its the perfect time. I went ahead and roasted two. I love/hate eating this shit. it taste overwhelming and satisfying, maybe like semen in a weird sort of way? I just had some left over from yesterday (does it not keep?) i still like it, but is it really an aphrodesiac. I mean I cant imagine wanting to kiss anyone with this mouth even if they were in a similar state. I dont know, what is the deal with aphrodesiacs anyway. I feel like they are largely socially constructed like valentines day or the healthiness that comes with eating eggs. thoughts?

things i want to do (I come up with the best ideas when I should be doing other things.)-->

1-write a book, at least one. its going to be one of those lame semi-autobiographical ones about girls and their lives, and shit. the genre is lame by definition, but lets be honest, im not DFW.

2-start a company. im thinking a magazine actually-->does that count as a company. I want to recruit all of my friends to write articles on their specialties. It would sort of be a lifestyle magazine. naturally i want to call it preppy hipster. Sarahela, suggested starting a wiki. I dont know i like the idea of both, but particularlly like the idea of having something to hold in my hand.

3-master ashtanga yoga.

4-work on my public speaking skills, they really stink.

5-get more tattoos.

6-loose weight. this should probably be at the top of my list since i seem to be eating through my dissertation.

7-work for current tv

8-design a city

9-have a prisoner themed wedding

10-have a child and name it augustus

11-travel to the east, the middle and the far

So I am not really one of those girl who has dreamed of a white wedding, with lots of cristals, lace bodices and dj's playing shout! Not at all in fact. Today I got a vision for my dream wedding, no I have not miracously found the man of my dreams, or anything, but I have found the vision. It makes me smile and laugh out loud and want to dance around the library.

I want a Prisoner themed wedding. I want to get married here. I want the groomsmen to wear the blazers with the white lining, and I want to guest to get numbers pins with the uni-cycle thingy. I also want a human chess game to be going on during the reception, or perhaps the next day after brunch the guests could make their own. I am so excited. I'm not sure what I'll wear yet, but I'm guessing it will have a sixties influence.

Its going to be V-expensivo. I guess I'll have to work on that, and it might be a good motivation for my career choice. God, I'm so excited. I hope you share this excitment with me. Start saving(even though you have a while) because its going to be v-expensive to get there considering its in wales.

Yay! think of all of the fun hats that the guests can wear! dress ideas?

well, i dont have it, but i'm getting there. I have a flat for september. I'm going to pay the deposit this afternoon. the place is fucking sweet. i'll probably never leave it, and since i have a balcony I'll probably start smoking again. which I am cool with. Also if anyone wants to come visit me in September. I actually have a place for you to stay. If you are a girl you can stay in the double bed with me. If you are a boy you can sleep on the ground. or maybe on the couch downstairs.

I also spoke to my brother about stuff and things. and i have decided that i am going to put all of my energy into getting a job here, in london. DC will be my back-up plan. it would be pathetic to give up now and go back to the states. besides i think part of my indecision at the moment is wrapped up in this paper, and my emotional hangover from being at home.

my plan is to get a part-time job, or internship, and look for work. perhaps i'll see if i can write a newsbrief article about something. i dont know, resurgence in Afghanistan. Afghanistan and the next presidental candidate, perhaps Iraq and Afghanistan and relocating assets. vice presidents. something along those lines.

I feel really good, energized. also had a kick-ass squash game with john last night, then we watched the skins. The Skins is a british teen drama, which I highly reccomend. I mean seriously. It is running on BBC America now. CHECK IT OUT. Its where I learn all of my british slang.

also new book idea. Couch surfing.

So this is the post where I bitch and moan about not being able to make up my mind about what i want to do. hopefully, it will help me think about things with improved clarity.

inter-related things that im trying to understand.

1-Where to live. London/DC. Those are pretty much my two main choices at the moment, but I'd probably rather go to Berlin or Barcelona or Brooklyn. I think I'm going to stick with my two top choices. Thats the bigger issue-->the smaller issue is that i need somewhere to live in September. I'm looking at a flat this afternoon. Saraleha refered me to a friend of hers, so I'm hoping that it will work out. Its a little more than I want to spend, but I also can't really deal with looking around at the moment. We'll see.

2-An inter-related problem is a job. I'm applying to jobs in London and DC at the moment. But its also the type of job that is confounding me at the moment. I mean yes, I'm applying at all of the think-tanks and stuff. Its been recommended that I also apply for jobs on the hill, but I would hate to work on the hill. I would hate the people, and the nylons, and the interns. Just hate it. Besides the only interaction I have had with people who work on the hill involved a strange pseudo-foursome with a daschound, a speaker of the house. It was weird. Whatever, I don't want to work on the hill. I have a few good leads in DC. The problem is interviewing. I mean I doubt they will fly me over to DC to interview, but I dont really want to fly over to DC for one or two interviews...hmm. Which is why picking one place and sticking to it, would be much easier. Also, I have decided that I want to do something a bit more creative as well. Like maybe work for Current TV or work for TopShop, or Dover Street Market.

Its actually kind of working itself out that in the states I am applying for politico-type jobs and in London I'm applying for, we'll say, alternative type careers.

3-There is my paper and all of these bigger issues are weighing heavy on my mind and making it difficult to focus on my paper. hmm

Also weighing heavy on my mind. Next week I'm renting a car with john. Awesome. I'm so excited. Road trip. Road sodas.

If anyone has anything enlightening they want to share, I'm open for anything.

Also, I was going to write something passive-aggressive about how tweaks no longer responds when i gchat her, but its probably unfair. she has to work, and think about her own problems with grad school and stuff, and to be honest, when i gchat her its usally just me complaining about boys or whatever. I mean and she has a boyfriend now, so like that probably means she doesnt know how to listen to other peoples guy problems anymore.

you should read this, and you should also read my post below on innards.

Last night was my sister-in-law's final night in London. My brother made reservations at St. John's. He has been obcessed with eating innards, you know, traditional british shit-livers, spleens and stuff. Well as it turned out there were not that many innards available on the menu, but they did have lots of bizarro meats and offered things that I imagine british people ate a lot in the seventeenth century. It was fantastic from start to finish.

To start the ambiance was very cool. The restaurant was in the old meat packing district and it looked like it. the high ceilings, the light fixtures and the sterile whiteness of it all. Added immensely to the dishes we had. The wine, a Cotes Du Roussillon, also added considerably. It was rather fruity, with a nice dry finish. Good selection.

Well lets get to the food. I started with the snails and greens. It was very garlicy and the texture was perfect, chewy but firm, which is probably the most important thing when it comes to snails. More impressive still was the bone marrow that john and steuart ordered. The presentation was beautiful. Four sections of bone(cow femur, I imagine). Came with sea salt, flat leaf parsley, and toast-for the assemble of an open faced sandwich. Bone marrow isn't really my thing, its just too rich for me. But, if that is the way you swing you should definately check it out. It was just so beautiful. Cat had the cuttlefish, which was amazingly tender and smooth.

For mains:
I had the chanterelles and goat curd on toast-Delicious, would have liked more goat curd. I love mushrooms.
Cat and steuart had a beautiful preparation of roast beef. Perfectly rare. Perfect small carrots.
John had the grouse. It was the first day of Grouse season. It was served nearly rare(is this normal). But it was so good. I took a small bite, and my mouth was flooded with flavours. The meat was frangrant, and full bodied so good, and worth every one of the 31 pounds it costs.

Desert were honey roasted figs with creme fraiche and brioche, and lemon sorbet with a shot of russian vodka. Both were fantastic.

Okay I'm not that great at writing about food, but I wanted to try to remember every bit of the meal.

I haven't mentioned the company. I'm too sad to talk about it anyway. I want to live in the same place as John and Cat. I can't believe they live so far away.

despite the fact that i have drank six cups of tea today, and did an engergizing yoga practice, and slept in a little. im going to be in bed by midnight tonight. i have to. needlesstosay i cannot wait for my mothers little helper pills to arrive in the mail. i hope they come today. I have also eating an irrational amount of food today. im a sucker for left overs. i really cannot be left in the same house as food, or else i eat it. i am Pa-The-Tic.

i think my brother and i are going to rent a car this weekend. i cant wait to drive on the wrong side of the road. yeah.

well instead of fasting this weekend....i ate dim sum yesterday, and (finally) I have arrived at the fact that I dont actually like it. While i simply adore the concept with those funny little asians pushing around the carts of mysterious pockets of fun, sometimes i feel like im eating tibetian eyeballs wrapped in taiwanese skins. yuck. also it is so far from being healthy, AND i messed up the time for my yoga class today, so thats that. At least I got to see sarahela this morning while drinking filter coffee out of great cups, plus west-coast bonus, john and cat are coming over for dinner tonight.

i want to fast this weekend. any recommendations? maybe Kombucha.

okay, I'm trying not to talk about my dissertation too much, because its just boring and about dead people. I do, however, want to explore the question about being too old to play dress up. At the moment i am trouncing around the house, making espresso and trying to listen to the whole MGMT cd, but really I just keep going back to my three favorite tracks(you know which ones, wink). I am wearing an XXL white tee-shirt, a green patagonia belt, a weird scarf from tanaznia, jeans in a french roll, red high heels and lots o' white eyeliner. I look like I'm drunk, but I'm not(I wish I was-champagne sounds good, but I have too much work to do or else I would pop down to the shop). I'm sure if I went outside people most likely would think I was drunk, maybe eastern european, or very hip(my imagination).

What does this have to do with my dissertation, you ask? Well for some reason when ever I am stressed about work, dressing up makes me feel better. I can concentrate much more effectively. I'm really not sure why, but I think it may be residual guilt from boarding school, where to be taken seriously you had to dress up. I mean, I am dressed up. But, certainly not in my navy suit and loafers like a good little prep student. (barf). I do it when I am cleaning sometimes too. I think part of it is that I think I am burning more calories when I wear heels, and I always need practice. Time to get writing. I have 10,000 words left. fuck me(seriously it would be a nice break).

Well, perhaps my interest in getting dressed up will pay off afterward, but probably not. I just got a call from Zebra Management. Okay, hold on. Last week, I got stopped on the street, and asked if I wanted to participate as an extra in film and tv. I said sure assuming I would never hear from them. They took my picture, and that was that. I just got a call from them asking some more questions about me, and seeing if I had any experience. Hillarious. I am mildly flattered, hang up, and I decide to check out the website. OMG. Not sure if there is anyway I could do something like this and take myself seriously, since it kind of looks like an advert for pediafiles. I would definately want to go by Ruthie B. Though after I told them I was 25, 5'3" and have no experience I seriously doubt I'll be hearing from them by next Tuesday.

I think. If you are thinking of a gift this might do. Exciting, I also just found out my friend Kate is moving here. Maybe I will try to make a go of it here. If Max could do it at Grover Cleveland, I can do it here.

Gareth. Thanks, Blair. Now I really don't want to sleep with him.

What a bunch of fucking assholes that I go to school with. So finally I decide to go to the library because I need to pick up Stephen Neff musings on the Laws of War. A book which the online catolgue says is on the shelf. I go the shelf, and wha-la(sp?). its not there. But there are like 10 books strategically hidden around the room all related to international law and war. Not mine though. Those f-ing bastards. I just find that completely unacceptable. I'm pretty sure they are writing about american neglect of international law. what a boring and stupid topic, like my mother talking about how she thinks bush is going to get impeached. pu-lease. its a waste of time anyway. I reported the book missing and yelled a bit at the library guy (not a librarian, but surely a phd in library sciences or james joyce. Then I watched Missy Elliot videos on youtube to blow off some steam.

Also, I just ordered some Modafinil on the internet. Google it. I havent been so excited since I got my roommate to sign up for match dot com a few days ago. I know that this is ultimately stupid, and bad for my health, but I found about it in a magazine at the yoga studio, so I maintain that it is healthy on some level. I'll let you know how it goes. If I don't have a heart attack.

Its not like it was totally random, and its not like the squash date didnt go well. It just kind of happened. I am totally confused and in the dark about what happened on the squash date. Okay he is so hot and really fit. I dont know if there were sparks. I think that is probs equivilent to saying I dont know if I had an orgasm, meaning that there weren't sparks or orgasms.

I can't tell if Richard wants to be 'buddies' or if he wants to kiss me. He was very serious on the court. He was trying really hard. I won, thankfully, but it was close and I was breathing heavy and sweating alot. He is just really serious. I dont know. We were flirtacious i think. After being depressed yesterday afternoon I was really not at my best. Whatever. I dont know, there are lots of things about him that I want to know. It was fun chatting with him, but he is pretty shy, which i think is sexy and mysterious.

We went to the Rake afterward had two beers, and then we left. He was running home. He ran to work in the morning, god he has a hot body. No kissing, there was an awkward half-hug/half-kiss on the cheek. He also wrote me a sweet text message about playing again next week.

I want to see Richard, i think. Just got another text message from him, he prefers to be called rich(I asked-this wasnt unprovoked). That is going to be problematic for me. I hate the name Rich it reminds me of New Jersey. I'm confused and getting really behind on my paper.

or maybe i just miss home. i miss rsk. i know this is lame, but if i cant talk about it here, where can i? only a few people find it unacceptable when i talk about him, so whatever. i miss the comforts of home, which means i miss rsk, the two are so closely related. RSK is one of the biggest comforts of all time. i always know what to expect, when my ego is raging and i just want to be sweetly neglected i know just where to go. i miss hearing his voice. i want to write him a letter telling him if he needs a partner in crime to be unemployed with that he can call me.

i should be really happy. i have a date tonight with some guy that i have been interested in for a while. i'll hate him, i know it. cant you see my transparent safety mechanisms being errected this very moment. goodness i am like the most pathetic creature on the face of the earth. i have this amazing paper to write. the paper is great, i mean the topic is good, the outline is great. my writing is good, but i am too lazy and consumed by my personal life to think about something that is actually bigger and more important than me. this paper is going to help add to the literature to require more rigourous safety checks for aerial bombing campaigns. i would never go as far as to say that it could change the way we conduct international interventions and potential save lives, but there is a real movement in that direction, and i truely believe that as long as people(includeing graduate students) are talking about it, that it will be closer to a realtiy. But noooo, here i am complaining about dates and stuff, missing roberts and feeling sorry for myself drinking a beer in the afternoon, bc im too chicken or scared to do anything else. i feel so bad for myself that i might just have another beer. haha. i still think im funny too.

Also, my head stands are getting better, and i am loving the new yoga studio. how can someone be so fucking lucky and so fucking pathetic.

since i have no stds or hiv. well, not that there are people i actually want to sleep with, but hey maybe the squash date will give me another option in this department.

gareth just sent me a text message about having drinks with him and some uni friends tonight. he ended it with 'please come'. doesnt he know how pathetic that sounds?

Also I had a double yoke in my egg this morning. Does anyone know what that means?

okay, so i do want another tattoo. nothing big, nothing crazy. so i thought it might be fun to play on my excessive birthmarks. i was also thinking of stars before, im still thinking of stars, but little ones that are similar in size to my birthmarks. there are few different places on my body with excessive marks, my neck/back; my upper left arm, my upper right thigh, the right upper side of my torso. i think it would be great to get little mini stars in each of these patches. what do you think?

nobu. if anyone had a tape recorder at dinner last night, it would have caught five grown people discuss various interesting things, georgia, the value of having children, life plans and other regular dinner table topics. it also would have caught each of us gushingly saying how beautiful the meal was. So yes it was beautiful. that is the best possible way to explain it. i will try to recount each item we had, but i didnt order and i dont have a good memory so it will be a lose reinterpretation.

Raw salmon starter, softshell crab spring rolls, tempura rock shrimp with dipping sauces, miso-black cod, assorted mushrooms in a clay pot, pork belly, two types of preparation of waygu beef(sigh waygu beef). kate ordered the perfect amount of food. each bite was complex, delicate, the perfect texture, the best possible marriage of flavours. the reputation of this place is well deserved. i can't possibly go through each individual item, but some memorable notes were the mysterious slight crust around the raw salmon, the light crispy tempura that basically melted in your mouth, the absolutely delicious sauce that mushrooms came in, the sweet/savory combination of the flaky black cod, the texture of the softshell crab spring rolls. i'll get to the waygu beef in a moment. the only thing that i wasn't absolutely crazy about was the pork belly, 1-i cant eat pork belly without feeling like a fat ass, and 2-the portion was slightly too big requiring serious diligent chewing.

The waygu beef came last, it was reccommended to get it last since everything after waygu just doesnt taste as well. it was so good. it literally melted in my mouth. i almost feel like i dont want to talk about it anymore because it will be ruined. it was amazing the massages totally work. i dont want o have regular beef anymore. yeah, im going to be taking a break from meat now.

Dessert was amazing, creative, inventive, chocolate bento boxes, Suntory Whiskey Cappucino(thats what I got in honor of bill murray)


i have a date tonight, i dont want to go. rachmoniov or whatever. im too stressed out. i think i might cancel. what do you think? i just cancelled the date. i know he wants me, so I'm not that fussed about it. i dont know. im stressed out, and need to clean the apartment and go running this evening. this is the right decision, eating excessive amounts of goat cheese on my protein omlette was not the right decision.

I also want another tattoo. I'm thinking matching stars on my inner ankles or this BF quote: 'Many people die at twenty five and aren't buried until they are seventy five.' In cursive on my upper rib cage, left side.

shame.

Gareth is so freakish. Last night he sent me a picture of this. I think he is trying to flirt with me. The caption to the email was bite me. I don't know. Since then I have been searching the internets for cute and weird pics. I commented on T's blog with my new fav. Awesome!

Let's see. I got some good writing done. Convinced my roommate that is was a good idea to join match.com. For her it is, since she doesnt know where to meet people, and she actually wants to date people. Honestly, I'm just sick of hearing her pining over Toby. Now I know how my friends felt about RSK. Also, I could have been taking revenge for her making me eat ice cream last night. She did actually make me. It was weird. I'm glad she is going on vacation for two weeks, then all of the working out I do, might actually pay off. Maybe not. My fatty indulgences dont usually need any encouragement.

Blairzy is here! I'm excited. I hope she will drink with me this afternoon. I could sure use a bloody, easy on the horse-radish, heavy on the Old Bay, with a side of Oysters. Its just that kind of a day.

I should write a fucking cookbook. I am in the process of writing two recipes for disaster. The first one is uninteresting, and about my dissertation and how I'm not working on it. Whatevs, I could care less at this point in time. I want a beer. Okay hold on, I'm getting one. AHH. This Becks is sure to help my inability to write about military strategy, sure........

The packing of my social schedule seems to be the root of both of these recipes. Every night is booked up until next Thursday. F me. Tonight, museum exhibit at the Sommerset house; Friday, Blairzy in town visiting her me and BF.(its probably the other way around, but whatever); Saturday Kate's birthday at the Sanderson(place looks rad); Sunday, dinner at NOBU. Okay all of those are the easy ones. I can't believe I'm a poor student in London and get away with going to all of this fancy shit. It half amuses me and half bothers me. Anyway, that all will be fun and fine. Social anxiety is my cup of tea. Emotional anxiety is not, and with that we arrive at recipe #2
2nd Recipe for disaster.

Monday night-Date in the park with Gareth, who I love. He is wonderful. Very quiet, very sweet, but kind of an asshole and not a pushover at all. The first thing I told gareth is that he seemed half autistic. Of course he loved me instantly. He recently made me a mix. I haven't listened to all of it. I was a bit put off by the first song being burning down the house. Come on Gareth can't you try a little harder. Gareth is moving out of london to get a masters in computer science, which I call computer camp. I probably wont see him. I cant imagine going to Bristol, I don't even know where that is. Gareth is lovely, and breaks my heart in the good way I like. I can't imagine us not sleeping together, bc that is just how we roll, but the problem is, is that I have a date the next day with Richard.

Oh Richard. Richard Winstanley is a total babe. Perfect physically-slightly on the short side, which I love. He used to be in the Navy, I think he is a secret hipster, but also sporty, he cycles into work, he just got back from a surfing vacation in Biarritz. Lucky boy, I really want to do a surfing camp, shocking I know. Well we are playing squash together on Tuesday night. I'm really excited. I SO fancy squash dates. I hope he throws me up against the wall and makes out with me while we are all sweaty. Ohh well see. British boys are a bit weird-emotionally and physically (uncircumscized). NOT MY THING.

So I guess I'm not sure if I am stressed about all of this socializing is that by the time the squash date rolls around, I will be emotionally exhausted and too distracted to work on my disseration, so if I simply wont be able to work on my disseration at all. What do you think?

I know its extremely cliche for graduate students to bitch and moan about starting a career, but I think it has been established that I am one chubby walking cliche. So I'm thinking of working for Barack Obama's campaign. Perhaps like volunteering in some state that I'll never live, and calling people and telling them to vote for him. Telling suburban people much he cares about the fact that their mother has incontinence, and he wants medicade to help deal with her peeing problem.

I think this would be a really interesting experience. Except I don't really care that much. Of course I care about who is president, and how that effects our foreign policy and my tax money and such. I do like Obama, but I don't know if I like him enough to lie to strangers about how great I think he is. I dont think I would be morally comfortable doing something like that. I do, in fact, have morals. Frankly, I would feel like comfortable working for a lobbyist group, to try and bypass the voters completely. That is much more my style. I dont know. I think, once again, it all comes down to the person that I want to be. I want to be a moralist, and a realist like BF. I think that I would be acting dishonestly to myself if I work for his campaign. But at the same time, I am not apposed to wiley career manuevering. I mean this comes down to working on the hill too. I dont think I have it in me. It is just way too much ass-kissing, too many people who didnt get the memo about pleated khakis and too many pantyhose. Its so not me, who am I kidding. Than what is me? Should I really just start a yoga center? Should I go work for JMG and teach little kids how to play squash? Should I try to work for a big company like AMEX and try to make money. I dont know. I wish I could write a book. At least I'm writing again. Even though it sucks. It will get better. I'm also hoping this Bon Iver cd gets better bc right now, I'm not so into it, but I think I'm only on track 3.

Okay, so my temporary roommate Kate, has recently been broken up with. It was complicated and work-related, which means it doubly sucks. I have tried to explain that he does triathalons, which is just weird and bizarre. whatever. So in light of kate's shitty day at work, we decided to get dressed up and get some cocktails. Kate doesnt really drink so this is kind of a big deal. Well We started off at Browns Hotel, pretty swank, and the soft-core black and white S&M photography make it feel slightly hip. I had Old Fashioneds on the rocks. Something different for me, (I actually just forgot to order it straight up), but I think I will definately do it again.

Okay so we were drinking cocktails and eating sliders(delicious), and here comes the part that i dont understand. So, I remember faces really well, almost to an awkward degree. So there was this guy at Browns who I had met before with Kate in fact. It was just one random evening of drinks at the v&a. This guy was this lame banker/lawyer type, so really no reason to talk to him, but I had to quell the urge to approach him and say, oh we have met before at blah blah blah. I suppose he had to quell that same urge since he looked over at our table a few times. The world is so small. How is it that I see people all over town that I recognize? Perhaps this is part of my urge to launch into a stupid discussion with people like this, so I feel like I am participating in the city around me.

After drink there we popped a few streets over to May Fair Bar (MFB). I had another Old Fashioned. it was disgusting, why so cinnamonish? I'm beginning to get convinced that people dont know how to mix drinks in this city. MFB is across the street from NOBU. NOBU is supposed to be the best Japaneses restaurant in town. We are going on Sunday for Kates birthday, I'm excited. Anyway, there was a shit-load of paparazzi outside of Nobu. It was weird and slightly disturbing. I was further disgusted by my desire to know who was dining inside. Its something else i dont understand. yeah. i dont know, it was a weird night. In the end it was the right thing to do for kate after a break up, like overdosing on nachos.

Yeah. Also this is it. I love it even though it looks a little crooked in this picture.

So I just got back from the Victoria (sex health) Clinic. After a recent rash of sleeping around-actually it should be called a rash of making out; there is less actual sex taking place than sleeping around implies-I felt after like 3 or4 years or whatever it might be nice to get a std screening. Tweaks just got this done, and she has good ideas sometimes, so i thought i might get it done since its free too. I went all out. got the HIV test too. I dont actually think i have HIV, but hey you never know british people are dirty.
I had to wait in a smelly weighting room for like an hour with lots of stressed-out looking people. i was relieved that i didnt actually have to drop my shorts for the test, just blood and pee. which means if i have hpv i'm still in the dark, but hey baby steps.
i have got a shit load of work hanging over my head so i think ill get to it, though all i really want to do is play squash, but the courts are on the other side of town. I may go tomorrow. Besides im trying to woo(what is the spelling?) this hot ex-co-worker of mine, who is shortish and muscular looking that is eager to get on the courts with me. well he was when i left in June. who knows i suppose i'll write him an email today to try to set a date, which will motivate me to get my fat ass in shape. My jeans are still tight, it makes me want to cry.
alright this isnt a fun or clever post, but i'm getting back into it, so give me a break.

since i have recently started writing my dissertation about a month and a half late, I decided no more gchat, except maybe with tweaks and fhwh, but that i should have a decent writing distraction from time to time during the day. so this is it, back to the preppy hipster.

I suppose the timing is right since, i recently got a tattoo that embodies preppy hipsterness. I got monogrammed in the middle of my back in helvetica. i love it. most people hate it, or say that it is really me. whatever that means. my dad told me it looked professional. ha. thanks dad.


i'll slowly catch up to what is going on with me and my sex life(love life would be completely innacurate), moral musings, cute bikes, styles and fashions that im thinking about and how i'm feeling about things in general.

one thing that i need to write about bc i cant get it out of my mine. fuel effecient recreation. so yesterday steuart took me and my brother and sister to the red bull air race. it was basically like nascar with airplanes and less trashy people. it was really cool both to watch the races, and the fancy intermission shows with helicopters doing backflips and shit. Okay though, arent we kind of getting closer and closer to an energy crisis, and isnt it a little irresponsible to create new sports based on fuel. i mean isnt this just completely retarded? the amount of money that was put into the logistics alone of that event yesterday could build like 165 electric cars. shouldnt we be doing that instead? so even though i had fun, and had a good excuse to wear my airplane earings, i felt conflicted about the whole day. about as conflicted as i felt about my mini-aubergine at the pakistani restaurant following the show. it was good, but a little oily.

On this sustainable recreation note, my old friend chase and her bf ride motorcycles around for fun, and like cross country and stuff. i know that motorcycles use of fuel is more effecient than cars, planes or rvs, but come on just going on a ride to go for a ride. why not take up cycling?

also kudos to tweaks for getting a bike. i bet she will rarely ride it, but its a step in the right direction, since she should drive less.