Just to make it easier on my family and friends, here is a list of things that I would love to receive (and really do need) for Christmas:
cute, warm, and fuzzy pajama pants
a good-quality aluminum cookie sheet (perhaps from Williams-Sonoma?)
good earphones (the kind with the earbuds)
lots of warm socks (ankle-high)
portable coffee thermos
stretchy black yoga pants (size XS or S)
the following Shiseido products from the Shiseido Pureness line: deep cleansing foam, balancing softener, matifying moisturizer, oil-control blotting paper
Sony DSC-V1 Cybershot 5 megapixel camera
waterproof shower clock
That's all for now. I'll add more when I think of more.
You know, if I ever get married, I wouldn't change my last name. I just don't understand that concept of having to change your name once you're bewedded.
So I was having this discussion with Hendrick over what we'd name our possibly-future-kids (meaning if I ever get duped into having a baby!!! gross). His last name is, obviously, different than mine. I don't think that kids should by default get the father's name. But since I'm not changing my last name, whose name would they get? I wouldn't want to give my kids a stupid hyphenated last name either.
So I proposed giving our baby my last name as its first name and his last name as its last name. I'm very serious about this. It could work.
By the way, I named our Sim babies Hendro and Henrietta. Oh I'm so original. Just like George Foreman, George Foreman Jr., George Foreman Jr. Jr., etc etc. Ha.
Question: Do you think it's inappropriate for females to wear nipple-exposing tops?
Here's my dilemma. I really, really hate wearing bras. They're so annoying and unnecessary. My tits are perky as they are - they don't need some odd contraption to stay up. So I don't wear them for the most part. However, the outline of my nipples tends to show through my shirts, even if I'm wearing a fitted sweater. (Although I've found that wearing a thin cami under my sweaters helps to cover them a little.)
So do you think this is inappropriate? Sure it's inappropriate at work, but what if I'm at the gym working out in just a cami and workout shorts. Or if I'm just going grocery shopping or something. It's not like I'm purposefully wearing a slutty top. I'll just be wearing a cute fitted shirt or baby-tee, but you can see the outline of my nipples through it. It's pretty damn cold these days, how can I help that?
Oh, the problems I have. 'Tis a hard life indeed.
***************** addition to my entry *****************
What is the main point of the above story?
(a) "I'm a slut. Look at my nipples." (b) "Nipples are yummy." (c) "Why can't women show their nipples too?" (d) "I don't wear bras. So what?"
Upon receipt of article 1 and article 2, you have submitted your answer as (a). However, if you thoroughly understand my wording, you will find that the correct answer is (d).
Okay, when I said I needed to eat, Hendrick took that to mean I needed to EAT. He made me breakfast AND dinner everyday last week. He even made me an omelette this morning. I usually don't have time to eat breakfast, but he always cooks something while I'm getting ready for work.
Then I weighed myself on the scale this morning. It said 111! I almost never go above 110. Yes, I am that vain as to care about five or so vanity pounds.
I didn't work out all last week before I was still recovering from my flu. All I did was sit on my lazy butt and play The Sims. My coworker says she's afraid of getting "office butt" - when your butt gets all wide and flat from sitting in your chair all day. Ew. I don't think I'm there yet.
My optimistic self tells me that it's just water weight since I'll be starting my period very soon.
My fatass self tells me that I need to WORK OUT. And SWEAT MY ASS OFF. WHY AM I WRITING LIKE THIS? I DON'T KNOW.
Believe it or not, I had the stomach flu all Thanksgiving weekend. I would eat one bite of mashed potatoes then run to the toilet to puke it back up. Not fun.
Visiting my hometown is okay, I guess. I did do some shopping in Georgetown with my girl friend from way back. I brought Bruce home on the plane with me, too. He terrorizes my other dog Snowball. Bruce jumps on him and nips at him. He's tough for such a little guy. I don't know. Visiting that place makes me happy but kind of sad, too. I'd rather not explain.
I'm back at my apartment now but still really sick. I missed work today, too. Hen has been taking care of me by getting me medicine and food and orange juice. He's so sweet! Gosh I'm so lucky.
I'm very skinny right now and not necessarily in a good way. I look like I just rolled or something. Puking up food for a whole weekend does that to you. I need to eat.
What I have done to become a healthy soy-abiding citizen:
1. I have given up buying regular milk and now only buy soy milk. I use it in my cereal, mac & cheese, and chocolate soy milk.
2. I also buy soy ice cream sandwiches. The Lil Cuties ones taste really good!
3. When I go to Starbucks, I always order my venti latte with soy milk.
4. I put soy protein powder into my smoothies when I make them at home.
5. I buy those frozen fake meat dinners like Boca burgers and Chik-n-grills which are mostly made of soy. They're very tasty.
6. I still eat tofu, kong-na-mul bop (Hen's mom makes it very well!), and the like.
Why am I doing this? Well, since I've given up meat, my protein intake has been dangerously low. So low that I'd get tired very easily and feel very weak. But since I've been eating more soy protein, I feel a lot more energized and healthier. Oh yeah, a protein shake also helps once in a while.
I've been looking through my old old webcam photos. Brings back a lot of memories. Remember these days? I was only 18. I think these were all taken in very early 2001 when I lived in my tiny dorm room.
Gosh I had a crappy webcam back then. Those photos are so grainy.
Wow. That was a long time ago. This makes me feel old.
So last night I did not go to yoga class but instead went to the gym and did my jogging thing on the treadmill like usual. So I'm jogging, listening to my Ipod, just minding my own business, when there is this putrid smell that infiltrates my sensitive little nose. There is only one other person near me - the guy jogging on the treadmill next to mine - and I know it was him who created the stink. Now why do you have to do that? As if staring at me through the mirror while I'm jogging isn't enough, you have to fart in my presence. Please leave me alone!
I almost never go above 110. Yes, I am that vain as to care about five or so vanity pounds.
