Blogspot, Claymation dude.

My favorite result of being a salaried employee is that nowadays, I have the funds to vary my diet. Whereas 80% of my senior year consumption consisted of the "Mix-and-Match", a $5 curry on rice confection from the local Pakastani joint, I have been to no less than five restaurants in the past week.

Unrelenting march into happy yuppie verisimilitude notwithstanding, this has been a welcome development. I'm no longer starving all the time. During the week, I can be considered what some describe as bright-eyed and bushy tailed. The fact that my newly minted breakfast-habit is heavy on the peanuts and sunflower seeds makes the squirrel metaphor all the more accurate.

My boyfriend recently wrote a blog entry about food-as-pornography, which is an idea he hopes to expand into an honors thesis (I cannot wait to tell my mother). If so, my quest for five servings of fruits/vegetables at the Union Square Farmer's Market today was nothing less than a submarine mission through Jenna Jameson's fallopian tubes. Joe and I ended up buying rhubarb, blueberry ginger jam and a 3 ounce hunk of organic goat cheese. I even considered buying a tuna steak at Whole Foods.

So basically, money is glorious. Oh, what's that? I'm being a jerk? WELL, I DON'T SEE YOU WORKING TEN HOUR DAYS, SO YOU CAN LICK MY ASSHOLE.