bargain basement diet drinks!

Call me crazy, but I am way, way suspicious of my gut.

I'm pretty sure it's plotting to do me in.

I came home Sunday, after a Fun In The Sun type holiday in Florida (with all kinds of solid foodstuffs crammed down my gullet by a mother who replied to my protestations of, "I've gained weight!" with a dubious sniff, "Well, you're not as emaciated as you were before.")

David came up to a very Meet the Parents type scenario, in which Mom Indefatigably Exhausted a Plethora of Boring And Slightly Embarrassing Childhood Stories, Dad Chuckled More Heartily Than Usual, and Jamie Was Rather Glad To See The End Of Said Debacle.

Fun for all, I expect.

D and I then went down to St. Augustine, for a baffling chilly afternoon of Touristy Goodness, of which I have pictures that I am too dizzy and lightheaded presently to bother with posting.

Off the next morning late to Orlando, and later on that day for me, a fun-filled evening transcontinental flight designated for Evevryone And Their Screaming Two Year Old. Pleasant.

The next morn, I awoke to an unwelcoming, depressingly soggy and soaked Seattle, in which it half-heartedly was attempting its best at frozen precipitate (aka snow).

In addition, it seems I also had borne along with me from O-town, a wonderfully nasty GI virus (which Loz believes I contracted from her via internet) and was laid low for two days with gut-wrenching stomach pain and nausea of the likes I have not had for quite some time.

Eh--hew.

Done with The Sickness Unto Death, for now at least, I feel a bit weak, and my stomach seems rather suspicious still of solid foods (which still bother my tummy) but I soldiered on bravely today to Target, where I bought all manner of cheap dry and canned goods.

May I also confess I bought Target Brand Diet Shakes (chocolate flavor, if you must know).

And while I may now be stocked and pilloried, internet-style, and have my ninety-five pound ass mocked for all eternity (or at least until the internet runs out of usuable space, which I am told Is Going To Happen Any Decade Now) may I feebly offer up a small bit of defense on my part for the purchasing of such ludicrous goods?

First of all, Target brand was cheaper by a buck or so than the Comparable National Brand. And I am all for the "penny wise, pound foolish" approach to savings. Second, I can't wait to hear my co-workers not only ridicule me for drinking diet shakes, but for drinking Target diet shakes at that. I mean, there's even the bullseye logo on the can, so I can't even be discreet about my cheapness.

Lastly, let it be known far and wide: I am not attempting to lose weight! But, my stomach dislikes, apparently, for me to eat too much solid food, and yet, I require caloric intake as much as the next person. Alas, eating can be difficult to do when you're running around a unit for eight to twelve hours at a time. Ergo, we arrive, at last, at the logical conclusion: Fake Slim Fast, Target Style.

It's a meal in a completely environmentally-unfriendly steel can, people!--how much more ludicrously, gratuitously American can you get? (Yes, I recycle. When I remember to. No, I don't know why it has to be a steel can. I suppose they had to figure out what to do with all those old steel-bodied cars from the 1950s lying in junk heaps around the nation).

Yes, instead of actually putting effort into feeding myself nourishing food, at thirty-one, I'm still seduced by the promise of fast food as solving my caloric and nutritional needs.

I fully realize I suck as a human being, okay? Just let me drink my cheap ass synthetic Target drinks over here, please, and you take your self-righteous I-cook-all-my-meals-from-home-grown-organic-preservative-and-artificial-flavor-
free-foodstuffs over there thank you.

In the meantime, Much Knitting has been completed, including Linen Kilt from Knit 2 Together and Mystery Gift for Loz's Bump-Which-Is-Soon-To-Be-Baby. Hopefully, Sea Horse Express will not drown on its way towards the fair continent of Australia/merry old land of Oz, and baby will have her baby things before she applies to university.

In other news: I have made up my mind to make up my mind by Monday (or, possibly, Tuesday) on Which Job To Take. The debate must end, before my head explodes, my family disowns me, my friends stop answering their phones when they see I'm calling, and David leaves me in lieu of less frustrating but slightly more interesting company, such as a Rubik's Cube or Jenga Tower.