Don't Get Me Wrong
You know how you've heard a song your entire life that you just LOVE, but you have no idea what it's called or who sings it? That KILLS me... usually you hear it in random places like when you're station-surfing on the radio or when you walked into some diner or something like that. And you can't even sing it for your friends to ask if they know it because you can't understand any of the lyrics except that one hook.
So I've been trying to figure out this one ridiculously catchy song for like... the past decade. And I heard it on the radio today and was like, "WHO THE HELL SINGS THIS SONG?! I LOVE THIS SONG!" So I looked up "don't get me wrong lyrics" on Google (like I said... the only words that I could make out in the song), and the answer popped right up. The Pretenders.
Duh. I feel like an ass. They're not even a one-hit wonder. I can't believe I didn't recognize the voice. I also feel very "duh" because I could've searched for this song online like... I don't know... a freakin' decade ago.
Shrug.
In other news, I am extremely proud of myself. Two nights ago, I tried on my favorite pair of jeans from college, and they could not even come close to fitting. (This is not what made me proud.) I've decided to... gasp... actually make an effort at dieting.
Notice that I did not say that I was going to "go on a diet." I've technically been dieting since like fifth grade or something. And by dieting, I really mean just feeling guilty and subhuman for putting food into my mouth even though a huge percentage of the global population is literally dying for this luxury (but I live in America, dammit, so fuck yeah, I'll damn well think I'm fat). But my goal is to fit into these stupid jeans by... a month? (Eh, too hard. Maybe July?) So I'm going to make an actual EFFORT because I'm not getting any taller, and my skin's elasticity can only go downhill...
But Jenny invited me to Bom Chon Chicken (please go: 314 Fifth Ave @ 32nd) a few hours ago. Sniff. It's supposed to be amazing, and it was written up in the Times like in February or something for being amazing. AND IT WAS! But this is the really amazing part... as I was on my way home (I had to leave early since I'm going to Boston tomorrow morning for my sister's graduation)... I passed Pinkberry (which was FILLED with people whose frogurt [I don't say "frogurt" but I wanted to use it in a sentence] looked so unbelievably unbelievable). I wasn't with anyone since I'd left early... none of my dinnermates would've known about my post-meal piggy-ness. It would've been my little secret. And I was seriously tempted to get some. BUT I DID NOT!
:-)
Pathetic as it sounds, that [not getting dessert] was like... a huge step for me. Congratulate me.
So I've been trying to figure out this one ridiculously catchy song for like... the past decade. And I heard it on the radio today and was like, "WHO THE HELL SINGS THIS SONG?! I LOVE THIS SONG!" So I looked up "don't get me wrong lyrics" on Google (like I said... the only words that I could make out in the song), and the answer popped right up. The Pretenders.
Duh. I feel like an ass. They're not even a one-hit wonder. I can't believe I didn't recognize the voice. I also feel very "duh" because I could've searched for this song online like... I don't know... a freakin' decade ago.
Shrug.
In other news, I am extremely proud of myself. Two nights ago, I tried on my favorite pair of jeans from college, and they could not even come close to fitting. (This is not what made me proud.) I've decided to... gasp... actually make an effort at dieting.
Notice that I did not say that I was going to "go on a diet." I've technically been dieting since like fifth grade or something. And by dieting, I really mean just feeling guilty and subhuman for putting food into my mouth even though a huge percentage of the global population is literally dying for this luxury (but I live in America, dammit, so fuck yeah, I'll damn well think I'm fat). But my goal is to fit into these stupid jeans by... a month? (Eh, too hard. Maybe July?) So I'm going to make an actual EFFORT because I'm not getting any taller, and my skin's elasticity can only go downhill...
But Jenny invited me to Bom Chon Chicken (please go: 314 Fifth Ave @ 32nd) a few hours ago. Sniff. It's supposed to be amazing, and it was written up in the Times like in February or something for being amazing. AND IT WAS! But this is the really amazing part... as I was on my way home (I had to leave early since I'm going to Boston tomorrow morning for my sister's graduation)... I passed Pinkberry (which was FILLED with people whose frogurt [I don't say "frogurt" but I wanted to use it in a sentence] looked so unbelievably unbelievable). I wasn't with anyone since I'd left early... none of my dinnermates would've known about my post-meal piggy-ness. It would've been my little secret. And I was seriously tempted to get some. BUT I DID NOT!
:-)
Pathetic as it sounds, that [not getting dessert] was like... a huge step for me. Congratulate me.
posted by Anny at 12:01 AM
3 Comments:
CONGRATULATIONS.
I'm proud of you.
Even though frogurt is fat free so really it wouldn't have mattered... and you can get fruit on it. So really, it's healthy. You'd probably lose weight as you ate it. But anyway, I'm still proud of youru willpower.
my other half, i love thee. when can we hang out?
I really dislike pinkberry. It's a hoax. The whole fun of froyo is it tastes like ice cream but is supposed to be better for you. pinkberry tastes like cold yogurt. Cold plain yogurt (and who likes plain yogurt?). I get infuriated every time I walk by one and want to yell to people "Buy gross plain yogurt at the market for 90 cents and put it in your freezer!"
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