scrawls.

scrawls

still cheaper than therapy*

21.6.13

food for thought

David H. Freedman, How junk food can end obesity. The Atlantic, july/august 2013.

David Berreby, The obesity era. aeon magazine, 19 June 2013.

Labels: food

scrawled @ 13:41

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20.6.13

hyperbole

I found a four-hundred-and-sixty-five-euro Montblanc pen at work (i googled it, yes) and i am sure the person it belongs to is going to call and want it back. It is entirely ridiculous to spend four hundred and sixty-five euros on a pen, entirely, and i would never, even if i can see spending it on a really and truly excellent piece of luggage, say, or a couple of days in a hotel, for several people, or even - maybe - a winter coat, and anyway, sure, i've bought a car, i've bought a house - but to purchase a pen like this would be completely mad, because i would lose it, like i do nice umbrellas or bright flashlights or the toothpicks of pocket knives. I have never had a pen like this. I am going to write everything with it until they find me. I feel poor.

Also the person it belongs to, judging by the people who were attending the meeting in that room before me, is probably a lawyer. I am not a lawyer. I have not ever accomplished anything.

It is nearly summer and it is hot and therefore i must be fat.

My husband left me and my boyfriend still hasn't quit smoking. Obviously, life is terrible.

I keep seeing women wearing peplums in just ever so slightly the wrong place and they look stupid.

We have just started Season One and that means that Ned Stark is going to have all those things happen to him. Ned Stark doesn't deserve this. And, it is massively hard to watch any American media from anywhere outside of America (breakup at a wedding dot com, i am talking at you) and this sucks.

My kid is at her dad's for the weekend and there are no good movies out. What's the point of having an ex-husband otherwise?

It's hot (see: summer) and i am not hungry but consistently forget to drink enough water, and whatever i do with suntan lotion leaves it all over my hands for ever afterwards. I hate the feel of it on my hands. I wish it washed off.

Labels: reflection

scrawled @ 19:09

1 Comments