DITLO (hint - this is not one of them) and I think I need a klonopin. Something about taking pictures of people scares the crap out of me. Rivers and cows are much easier and dogs are best of all. But hey, this is fun. Also, there is room in DITLOA for more! Go forth and photograph, y'all! And I think I still have a klonopin or two stashed away, even!
Some Random Shit:
There's an ice cream place right by my job. This is okay, since I don't like ice cream. If it was a discount gourmet cheese emporium, yowza, I'd be in serious trouble. But it is ice cream, so, whatever. I was just walking back through their courtyard, noticing the three people sitting in the sun eating ice cream and wondering whether I should take their picture (paranoided out) when one woman's cell phone rang.
"Western Carolina Veterinary Surgery!" she chirped brightly into it, "A speaking! How can I help you?"
I went to see my mother last night. My perfect mother, as has been mentioned in this blog before, has never had a weight problem and thus has little if any sympathy for those who, like her darling daughter, struggle with such things. She told me a story about how she had gotten muffins at the local bakery for her Monday morning women's gossip session (it's supposed to be Bible study, but fortunately for my mother, who has long since veered away from her minister's daughter's girlhood into a sort of militant atheism/agnosticism, they never ever talk about the Bible. They talk about other ladies. It's win-win.) and then she said rather snarkily that she would have saved me some muffins but she knew I was on a diet.
"Oh yes," I said, "I'm always on a diet! It's a perpetual diet - and it will never work, I know, until I quit drinking."
My mother allowed as to how this was probably so.
"But," I said, "I can't possibly face the horror of dieting without drinking, so there you go."