caloric intake.

my eating fluctuates in cycles. eat one day, hardly eat the other. today was a "hardly eat the other" day. 3 beers in i wanted to dance and my judgement stepped in and was like "jacqueline, i understand you like to dance, but if you do it here, you will equate yourself with the TS (track sluts) of the party. " "okay," i said, "i didn't think dancing in this environment would ruin my career, or even my night." judgement said "well, whatev. i'm chillin. do what you please." in the end, we didn't dance, but it was actually a good time to catch up with patrick, marta, and see the future of dance through mike don's eyes. if i would have known formal meant "slutty," it is how i would have dressed. i was casual in a knee length skirt and pink shirt that covered my shoulders well.

everyone went to the beach tonight to say bye to leah's car as she is turning it in tomorrow. *bye leah's car!! so patty and i were like "we're not stayin around to hear about how they got sand down their pants and the water was too cold. we're going home, getting a good nights rest and beginning to think about living somewhere , like a house, for next year that is going to rule. he says to me, "i want our appartment to be the slow jam." and i was like "patty dont you even worry, i'm a girl." and he was like "yeah true. you're into decorating and proper utensils." and i was like "yeah, plus, combined , we are crafty. we will have no problem. my only concern is that we don't have a bong. the dearborn house doesn't and i feel as though if we want to be the slowjam we are going to need to get a bong." he says. "oh, yeah, def." then he started grindin all up on me and he spilled beer down my front and gave hi fives to a bunch of dudes.
the point here. the thing you're all wondering why im talking about any of this, is to tell you about how amazing scrambled eggs are. i stumbled home just now and was like "hmm i want something warm and i want to eat it with catchup.... i want some eggs!" so i made them and ate them and they ruled. pizza would obviously have been a whole bunch better, but pizza requires direct exchange of money and transportation, so eggs won out tonight. i'm thinking of a pb&j before bed.

i'm crawlin into bed. i'm tellin you. i look good most of the time. in the am, in the pm. while asleep. my pajamas are boy's undergarments mixed and matched to adorable configurations that could be somewhat seductive as well as completely 'keep away, i'm too cute.' but really, i don't think anyone will see either sides of this argument any time soon.