Playing With Mirrors

Today I got asked if I was on a diet. It was after I commented how Antwon always brings in food to work that smells really good. I mean, maybe I’m on a healthy diet, but it’s kind of been a life-long thing, so if I was off of it, I really don’t know what I’d be eating.

Probably fish food, which is much tastier than cat or dog food. I speak from experience.

So I went swimming last night in a lap pool for the first time in like a year, and it was shocking even to me that I used to be swim captain in high school. My muscle mass has gone BYEBYE, and my form is comparable to the way a giraffe comes out of the womb. Have you ever seen that? You should. It’s pretty amazing. But NOT when it comes to swimming form. I felt like I was swinging bags of sand around even though nothing but my hands were attached to my arms; I felt like I had acquired asthma or tuberculosis because I’m so freaking out of shape and breath, and my bathing suit rides up like super high, so I’m pretty sure I was mooning the whole gym on my flip turns.
HOW did I ever do this before????

SO: I am now determined to rebuild and get back to swimming oh, you know, 1800 yards a day. Instead of a weak 500. Swimming is for hotties. ;)

Here is proof:

















Just kidding. I only needed a new picture to put as a thumbnail for my blog advertisements. It's cheap marketing. MARKETING. GAH!

But this is why the subject of this post is what it is. It looks like there's 3+ of myself. And for me, that's a good thing.

And for the first time in like ever, my dad was wrong about something. I was like, “Dad, how do you know if a guy likes you?” And he was like, “I can tell by the way you’re asking that he already does.”

But it turns out that college isn’t 5th grade (even though I am taking management- BAZINGA!) and that even though a boy acts silly around you and writes you funny notes, he may “like” your personality, but not enough to actually want to hang out with you in his free time. He might as well be married.

Wasn’t it easier in your lunchbox days?

Yes, Taylor Swift, it really was.

Have you guys seen The Social Network? I was really expecting it to be a movie, you know, not a lawsuit. And I thought Mark Zuckerburg would be hot. At least Eduardo was until he got all douchey. Excuse my language, but if you watch the movie, you’ll see what I mean. Same thing with the Winklevoss twins. True story.

You know what else is a true story?
I’m coming home for my birthday! And I’m going to get my sewing machine, and I’m going to set it up here and I’m going to fix Antwon’s hoodie. He would’ve bought another one from the University Store, but they’re like $800,000 even when they’re 20% off, so that’s a bad deal. And then, I’m going to sew my own beautiful things here at college! But I’ll need supplies.
Enter: birthday money!
I actually did a cost analysis sheet (I’m such an accounting major), and I should be able to get everything I need for a little over $100. And if I time it right with some 40% off coupons, it should be even less. It’s like I’m genetically programmed to use coupons. Thanks, Mum.

I need more work-appropriate skirts. I have a lot of Little House on the Prairie skirts and a lot of girly minis that are cute for a Friday night outing, but not so much for the office. And I need a petticoat. Don’t ask me how this is relevant.

Did the tag on your hair dryer ever freak you out as a child? It was all like, “DO NOT REMOVE THIS LABEL OR YOU WILL DIE” and then it showed this life-threatening picture of a hair dryer hovering a bathtub filled with water and you’re all scared that one day you’ll get electrocuted. And then you watch the movie What Women Want which teaches you that doing so actually gives you magical mind-reading powers.

I wish I could read guys’ minds. Like seriously- climb up into their little attic upstairs (or the garret, if you prefer), go down the long hallway past the sports, and the food, and the video games and come to the filing cabinet where they think about me, if at all, and open it up and just read. And then I would know. How wonderful that would be.

Or easier scenario: if they’d just tell me a true story.

I wonder if we’re still doing the Five Jars of Mayonnaise (Cinco de Mayo) celebration with lemon drops and veggie burgers. It sounded like a good idea at the time. But then again, so did the iPad.

Sometimes I leave my iPad in the bathtub unattended with a hair dryer, just for the lolz.

I miss PEOPLE.
If one of the following nostalgic scenarios applies to you, then you are indeed loved and missed, in no particular order:

I want to play RCT on a rainy day and come up with funny names for rides and jack up the prices of umbrellas so that when it rains, we make bank.

I want to swim our awesome two-person medley relay and help you to buy a gallon of soon-expired skim milk for only $1. “ANNE…PERKINS.”

I want to write letters to a secret mailbox with leaky gel pens and take walks barefoot in the field and laugh about that time you wore Grinch socks when we danced the Charleston in front of our AP Lang class.

I want to go back to the lake and walking to the compost pile singing Regina Spektor and the fun summer times including that time you bought me a Route-44 size drink because it was only 20 cents more and it took me two hands to carry it and it didn’t even fit in the cup holders that your car DIDN’T have.

I want to play ring-toss and drink margaritas and then start playing well so that our team wins and then I get all silly, and you pick me up and carry me like you’re about to drop me in the pool, but then you don’t. And then my dad comes after me and does.

And, of course, it goes without saying that parentals and parentals^3 are loved and missed as well.

There’s just something about white button up shirts,
T.T.