hot child in the city once more!

I am back in Manhattan, huzzah! My health kick is probably semi out the window. Fuck you Weight Watchers, I've been semi trying you since I was 9 years old. I am still going to go to the gym and eat lots of veggies, but goddamnit I am 19 years old, I am going to drink alcohol whenever I goddamn feel like it. Perhaps I will be less of a drunkard - I've done enough stupid drunken things to fill up a whole lifetime - but I will still drink! Huzzah!

I am pretty glad I checked my email to hopstop where my interview tomorrow is, because, turns out, it's at 11 instead of 12. And I had set my alarm for 10:30. Riiiiiiiight. But yeah, all I have to do tomorrow is go to my interview and go to the gym. Oh, and the grocery store so I don't starve to death with the dining halls still closed. Right. And maybe I'll get down to the NYU bookstore and get that last book and the oversized sweatshirt my mother promised her grungy daughter she could purchase with the AmEx. Men's XXL, please and thank you! Goddamnit I am a classy woman.

Today I had a revelation and it was this: the only men I actually want to be married to in my fantasies are the ones who are already married. And sure, on the list there's really only three. Ben Folds, Jon Stewart, Hugh Laurie. And yeah, they're all in their forties. And yeah, I'm nineteen. But I really don't see the problem.

Except that I do and it's huge.

Oh well. Maybe I'll get a job tomorrow. Then at least I will have something to live for other than school and booze.

I didn't mean that to sound depressing. If you're reading this, Mom, I'm not gonna kill myself, I swear.