pants o' the mornin'

I had a good test for my new jeans this morning: I was bloated. Like crazy, y'all. I had a smoothie for breakfast with soy milk, bananas, blueberries and peanut butter but I've had that before and nothing's happened so I don't know what set it off today. Maybe I just had too much. It was out of control though. My jeans held up well, they still felt comfortable. Of course, I'm wearing the pair I bought specifically because they were more comfortable and less snazzy. The other pairs I bought are tighter and might not have fared as well. This was definitely a concern of mine when I bought them. I pretty much can't gain any weight in the stomach area, or in my legs, or my butt. And yet if my butt ever gets so hard and perky to actually do any damage to my jeans my happiness over my new perfect ass will totally overshadow any anger I might feel. If it just gets fat that's another story.

Last night it took me until 11:00PM to convince myself to go buy some dinner. If I had just gone around 9 when I first thought of it I would have been fine but I didn't really want to get dressed to go outside again and would much rather have just continued playing video games. But I finally did and it was a bad idea. I may have also smoked a little, which was also a bad idea as I had already been coughing up phlegm for most of the day. And I returned to an old friend, brownie mix. Some of the mix had gotten hard and stuck together into little hard pebblies. What a disappointing experience.

I need to remember to look for books on trauma at the library today. MNS suggested I get a degree in performance art with an emphasis in trauma studies and while I think that's an awesome idea I'm not quite ready to commit to a degree. So instead I'll do my own research and see where that takes me. The thought of it has already given me some images to work with. Like a woman in a big comfy chair wearing a muumuu talking about her past and present. Don't traumatic events make you want to wear a muumuu?

Here's what one patron wrote on her order form she faxed in to the theater the other day:

Question: What years were the kids with whom you will be attending born?
Answer: None yet!

I thought that was pretty funny.

Damn it. I just noticed that I've already spilled soup on my new pants. I'm certainly not surprised, just very very annoyed.