Weekend resumé, resolution and reward, all in bullet-point form! Can it be any more perfect?
- Astonishing discovery: i am rubbish. I've been out for two weeks (and by 'two weeks', i mean 'two weekends'), and i am utterly wrecked. I woke up this morning with a dry cactus embedded in my throat, i apparently have lost my voice, somebody seemed to have sneaked into my bedroom & drawn dark semi-circles below the two reddened eyeballs that lay inside my sunken sockets, my skin is of a stale greenish yellow, my neck is making a 'chweck' sound as i turn from right to left & a 'toc!' from left to right (which was, i must admit, kinda fun for the first 5 minutes), and my hair looks like it's been chewed by that same nocturnal visitor. I will never be a rockstar.
- I will have NOTHING but fruits & vegetables, nice good red meat and heaps of water for the next 7 days. And fish. But that's it - no more coffee, no alcohol, no sweets, and definitely no more INSTANT NOODLES.
- Will also lead a sane, active, good girl healthy lifestyle, which will include running, yoga and reading. Hail to the Gods, let the Cleansing Program begin!
- Okay, for 5 days.
That is a crack in the inner corner of the lens of my glasses. I assure you, it is not due to any Hard Partying on my part. I know this because my idea of Hard Partying usually consists of sitting around & imitating a drunken sloth. Followed by dancing like there's no tomorrow. It could have happened, i presume, when i passed out & hit the floor, but i have no recollection of such unexemplary behaviours either. I am a lady after all.
- I just bought Leonard Cohen's I'm Your Man soundtrack, and it is absolutely wonderful. I haven't seen the documentary yet, but hearing Mister Cohen's voice have always strangely resulted in me being naked - not really a part of the Cleansing Program, i'm afraid...
- 3 days...? I mean, it's not like i really need that much bourgeois leisure time anyway... *Chweck*
- My sister is coming back from her weekly visit to her hubby (who is working away up North at the moment), and a Girls' Night In at her place is well in order & blissfully welcomed. The program for the night: The Wedding Singer, followed by Bridget Jones's Diary, The Grey Cup final, and reruns of the UFC: Ultimate Fighting Championship - with facials & nailpolishing to boot! I'm already gushing with girlish glee!
- ...Okay, starting tomorrow, the Cleansing Program of 3 hardcore healthy living days shall start! (And then watch out Tomkat 'cause i'll be kicking so much ass your Scientology God* will be worshipping ME! Mouaahahahaha! Think you're too good to invite 'lil ol'me dontcha...?** Just you wait....)
*Is there such a thing as a Scientology God? Or is that Mr. Tom Cruise himself?
**Seriously, who wasn't at that insane wedding?! And doesn't it eerily remind you of that other star-studded whorish of a matrimonial freak show that was the unholy union of Liza Minelli & her playdoh [ex-]groom? When did Tom Fucking Cruise become such a freak?! Are all sexy eye-candy boys doomed to be a circus act sooner or later? First the Michael-Jackson-Sans-Nose-Ape transformation to the Tom-Cruise-Scary-Joker metamorphosis. Will Brad Pitt someday turn into a three-nipples lady as well? *hands over mouth weeping*