Read it!

You guys! Today I started my Project Fattylegs. Please follow it on Parvin's blog!

I love you. :)

Biggest Loser

Parvin and I have joined awesome forces, and by that I mean the awesome force of Parvin has asked me to write an entry for her awesome force of a blog. It's actually going to be the greatest column in the world, wherein I document a rigorous and committed weight-loss regimen. Please follow it, because this time I intend to take it incredibly seriously (which means you need to stop expecting me to get drunk with you... MOM!) and your attention and enthusiasm is 80% of my motivation. Also, Parvin is the best blogger ever, so there's even more in it for you when you read her endearing posts.

Do it, fucker, or monsters will eat your brains.

The Cocoon

A friend of mine were talking yesterday about quarter life crises and becoming a better person and digging yourself out of a whole and stuff. Which is ironic because in comparison to last year, when I was falling asleep in wine bottles and treating my job like it was my own personal daycare, my life right now is considerably agreeable. But this sage, wise friend of mine brought up an idea that I find pretty insightful. She called it the cocoon. Basically you reserve a month for yourself - meaning you isolate yourself from certain vices - to flourish into a BEAUTIFUL BUTTERFLY. You know. Like Mariah! In my case experiments like this always come out half-assed and I end up looking like a moth that listens to Mariah Carey (by that I mean I wiggle to this song on repeat). However, I'm determined to make this go round work. I have several goals, all of which involve embracing things that would make me more presentable to a co-op board and less of a candidate for the Maury Povich Suze Orman show. Here are my goals for Yoo-lie:

1. Blog at least four times a week. I am an astute woman with an articulate voice and I will project it upon my community.
2. Do one crossword per day, preferably something that is released by Highlights-for-Adults.
3. Lose ten pounds - sans celebrating each pound lost with nine drinks and a trip to Crif Dogs.
4. Pay my bills. For real this time. I've learned I can't get by on life anymore by smiling and pretending to think store credit cards are the same as gift cards.
5. Go to yoga twice a week.
6. Finish each Jeopardy episode on my DVR queue at some point over the weekend.
7. Join a book club.
8. Stop eating every bit of my $100 grocery purchases in two days.
9. Strengthen my professional social networks. Yes, Twitter, that means I'll probably pay more attention to you, also.
10. In an effort to excel at Item Three, stop tucking myself into bed with a Diet Coke and putting myself to sleep with Paula Deen videos. The woman is deep-fried molasses Southern crack, y'all. WATCH HER SHE IS CLOGGING MY ARTERIES I LOVE IT MORE PLEASE.

Guess what I had for lunch today. And yesterday.

...and the day before that and the day before that and the day before that and also probably tomorrow.


Avocado roll!!!

Somebody's got a case of the MONDAYS.

It's meeee! Here is what I want to declare to the world aujourd'hui:

1. I cleaned my apartment last night! I didn't really pick up my room, but I did scour the kitchen, hallway, and bathroom so that these suckers never make another undeclared appearance. My kitchen and bathroom smell like cleaning solution and I loves it! Also, my feet squeak when I walk on the hardwood floors (whereas previously the soles would collect their own dust mite/crumb/wrapper sock if I went barefoot). But for srlsy, I'm so proud of myself! And everything is easier to do with The Real Housewives of NYC playing in the background!
   
2. This morning I had a glass of orange juice with some biotin in it, so my hair would FRIGGIN START GROWIN ALREADY (I'm balding, yall). I was like, cool, I've had about 80 calories so far - sufficient breakfast. But "making good" on my last post, while walking to work this morning, I decided it would be a really healthy idea to stop in at Cosi and pick up a grande "Arctic Mocha," which screams its caloric evil every time it slips down my throat. Not kidding, yall. This shit tastes like a nine-year-old invented it by mixing shaved ice and Hershey's chocolate syrup. It leaves this sweet, slippery film on your lips every time you take a sip.
3. When I paid for my chocolate aneurysm with a $20 bill, I got three $5 bills back (yeah, apparently Cosi thinks that gradual fatal installments of mocha cost $4.50 a pop). And holy maloly! Look at the new $5 bill! WHAT THE FAHK? It looks like a Parsons graphic arts student collaborated with the Count on Sesame Street to create this. Not to say that I'm not highly pleased with this tender, but it does kind of look like when you turn it over, the Mint seems to be telling us "this note has been brought to you by the NUMBER FIVE!"

(By the way, I was going to hyperlink to the Cosi Arctic Mocha, but when I found the sight and the nutrition facts popped up, I automatically closed the window and chucked the last quarter of the drink in the trash. Let's just say that I have just consumed at least a third of my daily calorie intake today.)

Looking forward to May, when I'll be 189 pounds and reading People with a cigarette!

These are my goals for the month of April:

1. Find a full-time job. Or at least immerse myself very much into the search so I'm not eating cookie dough and living under flight paths and break dancing in the Times Square subway station for dollas this summer.
2. Quit smoking. I think by at least the time finals are over I'll be nico-free!
3. Stop wearing outfits two days in a row because I'm too lazy to go back to Brooklyn for a night.
4. Lose five pounds. I really need to lose, like, 15-20, but I'm going to be real about this. I aint running 8 miles a day, peeps.
   
5. Corollary: persuade myself that sesame seed bagels toasted with 2 pounds of cream cheese, washed down with a 300-calorie Jamba Juice, does not a healthy breakfast make.
6. Start reading more. And start reading items that are published seasonally, not every seven days (aka put down the Us Weekly).
7. Do my homework. Like, when it's due instead of three weeks later.
8. Clean my FECKING APARTMENT.
9. Hunt for lost treasure.
10. Convince my mom that "twat" is a much funnier word than it is offensive. You know, kind of like "addiction."
1. On those heels, sell society on the idea that the term "doing it" is so much more hilarious than "having sex."
   

Remember to take your nice pills today.

One of the greatest things about living in New York is that there's this strange camaraderie that defies the stereotype non-New Yorkers seem to have about this city, the stereotype that you can only discredit personally after you've lived here at least a year. That is to say, one of the best things about becoming a New Yorker is realizing that you're part of a huge, dynamic community, which is NOT filled with assholes.

There are, however, the exceptions. A few weeks ago I was walking up Fourth Avenue to class, when some boulder of a man who's hollering at the top of his lungs to his companion walked straight into me. As I kept walking, he turned around, looked at me like I had just shot him in the foot, and screamed, "DON'T YOU SEE ME???!!!" Why yes, fat ass, I did see you. I believe I saw you from Brooklyn.