Thank goodness for British tabloids

Lyin' in bed. thinking about this:

Honey Shreddies with cold semi-skimmed milk is worth a trip to the UK.  I can't wait to go to sleep so I can wake up to it!  Oh wait!  I'm poor!  I only have 60p muesli that is probably sold as horse feed on the other side of Sainsburys. 

I can't wait to sleep and dream about it, at least! 

Dumbest commercial - er, advert - ever

Come on Brits, you're better than this. Monty Python. Bean. Keeping Up Appearances. You have a high standard for media.

But there are always lapses. For example, this commercial. It is just stupid. And whoever sings the diddy was either bribed, drugged, or tortured into doing it.

I'm glad I'm an American because of this.

hot and cold.

I'm sick. Again. This country loves to infect me with all kinds of new things (ie. pneumonia TWICE) and now just some viral thing that makes me feverish and achy.

Been sleeping lots as a result. Yesterday, I woke up hot and confused. And all I could hear was the blow-dryer going in the kitchen. Maybe I was hallucinating.

Nope. It was just Sophie defrosting the freezer.

i want to be rich. now.

I found out from Keely that there's a CFC alumni reunion in August.  I want to go.  Badly.  Like I want to be bulimic again, but this time with no psychological/physical/emotional, spiritual consequences.  Sigh.

This of course has got me obsessing about ways to make money quickly in the next month.  I've already pinned down a flyering job (sticking flyers in peoples' post boxes that they will never look at). Oh the joys of being unqualified for the jobs I actually want!

Let's face it. It won't be enough money.  But I can sure as hell try. 

It's also got me reminiscing about treatment (October 2004-February 2005).  Here are some paragraphs from a brief history I wrote about it last summer.  You know what I did last summer. 

I spent Thanksgiving 2004 in treatment. It was a bit sad to not be with family, but I was just starting to learn how to have fun again, so I actually didn't mind. Holidays in the Center were fun: free-dance, free-art, and a nice holiday meal. It was a bit more chaotic, but still controlled. And there was a movie.  Bonus.

My first meal at the Center was the mid-morning snack, October 25. Mine was already on the tray racks ready to eat, complete with my little green name tag. It was artichoke dip. I liked it.  I wanted more of it.  Like binge-worthy amounts. 

The inpatient unit actually used to be the Center itself. It started out very small - 16 patients maximum. It was set up by some heavenly people and has expanded to another two additional units with  some 50 beds and a very beautiful exterior and interior. Also its treatment methods have turned it into a leading center in the field of eating disorder treatment.

The best part of this all is that I get to tell eating disorder jokes that I would hate most of you for telling.  Like black people get to say n...evermind.

Silly Sallie

So, today I get an email from SallieMae, the company from which I've borrowed my student loan.  It reads,

Dear Ricky L Perez:

Our records indicate that your private student loan payment is currently past due.  Don't
put your credit at risk because of late payments!

Sincerely,

Sallie Mae

I was like, yo, Sillie Sallie!  My first name's not Ricky!  Nor is my last Perez, or my middle initial L.  And if it is then my parents have A LOT of explaining to do.  No. Don't tell me.  It's less painful if I don't know.

Anyway, I figured might as well check my account.  You know, for fun!  Who doesn't love seeing five digits that will control the next fifteen years of my life!?  My payments are deferred until I'm done with school, so it wasn't really necessary to check.

Turns out that once I logged in I saw that Sillie Sallie claims I'm behind on my payments. What?? This Sallie character needs to sort herself out!  She could ruin my credit, that two-named twit! 

I called Sallie wanting to be like, "hey you hyphenated-named retard!  You messed up!"

But how can you be mean to someone called Sallie Mae?  It's like yelling at Aunt Jamima or telling Betty Crocker to eff off. 

So instead I told her silly self I deferred, and she was like, oh yeah, sorry, you don't owe money for a little while yet. 

speaking of...

 

speaking of renouncements, I renounce stupid HTML. It failed me in the last post.