Sugarholics Anonymous?

Despite many months of keeping my sugar consumption habit under control...I am sorry to admit that I've fallen off the wagon.

I need a support group.
I need accountability.

I ate Poptarts today. Poptarts?? Out of desperation. Out of a vending machine for Pete's sake.

Did you know that a package of Poptarts has 400 calories? Also, that the first three ingredients are enriched flour, corn syrup and the other really bad corn syrup. I didn't know that until after I had eaten them.

But frankly, I was so desperate, I would've eaten them regardless.

Last night: At least 6 chocolate chip cookies?
Saturday: Brownies
Friday: Dunkin Donut

I don't even want to say anymore. It's pathetic. I'm starting to lose my ability to say no.

:\

Additional comment: A short time after writing this, the regionsal manager at my company called us all together to sing happy birthday to our VP and eat strawberry cake. I love cake. But no, no. There's a proverb in the Bible that says, "Put a knife to your own throat if you're a man given to appetite." I might start carrying a knife around with me.

It is not the mountain we conquer
but ourselves.
-Edmund Hillary

This Bliss, This Bliss- How Unremarkable, Though

Things I approve of, in no particular order:

-Blackberries {fruit & smartphones}
-Nonstick pans
-Mechanical pencils
-1.5 Liter water bottles
-Animal crackers from Trader Joes
-Dunkin' Donuts coffee
-Nude colored high heels
-Dog owners
-TIME Magazine cover stories
-Imogen Heap's new album
-Chocolate soy milk

These things are the spinning spokes in my 22s.
They're the wind blowing through my dandelions!
They're sunset kisses, even!

Or maybe that's going too far.

Comfort objects, that's what they are. Objects of joy. Unremarkable things, but so blissful.

Speaking of joyful objects, I have not set my Blackberry down since it first arrived into my loving arms. Yes, I see exactly why they call them Crackberries; a-d-d-i-c-t-i-v-e. And as you can see in the poll...the naming of my phone has been decided by you all, who know what's best for me and my new darling phone. His name is officially Booker. Booker has a clear plastic protective shell, which is important, considering I already dropped him onto a wood floor at Annie's last night after a really full dinner followed by brownies.

Play this video for Imogen's new single, First Train Home:

I See A Lawsuit

On a completely different note, there are a bajillion pregnant women working here at the mortgage company. A bajillion. Some of them, like Sarah, are the most lovely and darling women I've ever met. Some are just pod-people, as far as I know.

Like every other unpregnant woman, I just adore hearing about another woman's eating, sleeping, barfing and birthing issues...like any other woman, I love to listen to any topics that allow me to live out motherhood vicariously through the wombs of others. Of course I do, who wouldn't.

But I draw the line at bringing babies into the workplace after the blessed event we've all heard about for nine months has finally occurred.

I'm saying this because only a few feet away, there's a crowd of women surrounding a pastel clothed little infant, passing it from woman to woman like some pagan baby ritual, each woman touching its peachy cheeks and soft little hands and feet while it shrieks in irritation. Poor little soldier, imprisoned in a tiny Michelin suit... unable to free itself from the overwhelming pride and joy of its mother.

I have been instructed to mention that Rebecca Lee did not participate in this event. Noted.

But my real reason for telling you all this is that I think that the next wave in office politics and political correctness is going to be pediaxual harassment. As in, the sight of your babies in my zone is going to possibly injure your position at the firm. As in...if an unpregnant woman overhears you talking about cribs or room colors or feeding patterns...you could forseeably a call from HR.

It's incredible to imagine, I know.

I Expected Tough Times...

The question of my afternoon is:

MUSE, the best rock band...or the best band ever?

If you're not familiar with Black Holes and Revelations, then you don't know what over-layered, hyper-sound can be at its best. They're supposed to be on the new edition of SPIN this month, I think, which I'll probably pick up.

I like them so much that I now even follow them on Twitter. Even though they don't say witty things or even interesting things. That's what loyalty is all about in our tech age...friending and following the people you love even when there's nothing in it for you.

Anyway. I'm rocking out to MUSE and printing documents. How's your Friday?

Keller Point of View

"I long to accompllish a great and noble task;
but it is my chief duty to accomplish small tasks
as if they were great and noble."

-Helen Keller

Pears & Paper Clips

AD: Becca?

{silence}

BL: Yes.

AD: Do you-- when you eat pears, do you burp?

{silence}

BL: No.

AD: Huh.

________________________________________________________

I asked Josh if he had a Facebook. I told him that I had scanned through Cindy & Shari & Sarah's friends and couldn't find him. He said that he had a Myspace but never checks it. "Nobody checks Myspace," I told him.

He said he would sign up, just for me.

I'm going to miss the mortgage company. Really, really miss these people.

What I won't miss is this: the styrofoam cups we use for coffee are the same styrofoam cups we use to hold our paperclips on our desks. I almost pick up and drink from the paper clip cup every five minutes or so--very weird. It's a totally avoidable problem and yet I've never done anything to solve it.

Toilet Seat Pregnancies & Other Myths Dispelled

Girls, you'll probably know exactly what I'm talking about--and guys, I'm not sure whether or not you've ever been privy to this knowledge... But in junior high, there was this rumor that you shouldn't sit on public toilets after you started puberty because you might...

get pregnant

From sitting on the toilet.
I mean, once you flesh this out, if you're at all an analytical teenage girl {*hand raised high*}, you're thinking to yourself, Okay, what's the likelihood that a man got into this restroom and sat here and that somehow.... But at the same time, the nagging fear is there at that age, mostly because at that age you really don't understand how bad things happen.

And let's face it, getting pregnant from a toilet seat is a pretty bad thing to wake up to.

I bring this up because today, what started out as a completely awkward texting conversation with one of my friends, turned into what I can only relate as something both wonderful and liberating. We were stumbling through two opposite opinions on something but the dialogue was real weird. It felt like the back and forth was strained by the weight of the mysterious unspoken misunderstandings between us.

Really, it felt like a conversation between a mime and a blind man.

We did end up pushing through and I finally got the opportunity to communicate clearly my perspective. What a relief! I feel now like we're better friends than ever, simply because I feel more understood.

But it got me thinking--how rare it is for people to be courageous and straightforward in their communication skills! I've said it so many times about men, in particular, that I always feel like I have to hold their hands and guide them through grown-up conversations.

Granted, there are very few men or women in the world, I imagine, who out themselves as often as I do when it comes to matters of the heart. I've always chalked my bluntness up to a lack of "shame." Because when you're ashamed or embarrassed of how you feel, you don't want anyone to know about it. But when if you own your own feelings, you can speak freely about them and put them on the table of public discourse without self-consciousness.

The thing is...if things get awkward between you and a friend--no matter how weird it might seem to talk things through, it's sooooo much wierder not to.

It turns out, girls don't get pregnant by sitting on toilet seats. That's just a myth.

But also, relationships don't fall apart because you talk things through. They fall apart because you don't.