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Up until a few minutes ago, I was feeling very depressed and alone. I thought I was going to have to spend the whole evening by myself in my room. But then Chelsea called me and reminded me that it was jazz night at Tir Nan Og (it's not actually as square as it looks). I love that girl. So I'm going out in about twenty minutes, but right now, I'm trying to eat some chips really fast, so that I don't go drinking with nothing in my belly.
Speaking of which, I think I may have one of those weird binge-and-purge eating disorders. Because that's pretty much how I've been eating all year. Take the past three days, for example.
Wednesday: had no breakfast, no lunch, then went out with Andrew and Geoff to the Grizzly Grill for a dinner with M. Brugneau, my former headmaster, and the rest of the TFS grads at Queen's. Had a salad, salmon and rice, tea and some of Carla's cheesecake. Felt like Santa Clause on Christmas morning.
Thursday: had breakfast before Art History, then lunch with Tina after Film tutorial, then went out with my floor to Stoney's for an end of the year dinner. Ate a salad, salmon again (I'm stock-piling) with veggies and potato, and a chocolate somethingorother cake with tea. The cake I ate very little of, because the girls at another table said theirs tasted mouldy, and while mine was not mouldy, I kept tasting mould because I thought I would. Then I went to The Screening Room to meet Chel and Amanda and Julianne, and see Gosford Park. I had a small Mountain Dew, and developped a monster crush on Clive Owen. Mmmm...
Today: I had no breakfast as I chose to sleep in, and then play with my new kiddie barrettes, no lunch, and no dinner. I don't know why. And now I'm eating chips with tea. It's a singular combination of flavours, and one that is not entirely good. This is in an attempt to not throw up later on tonight after getting plastered. [Upon further tasting, I think the milk in my tea has gone bad. Fuck.]
In non-food news, I got a post card today from Meaghan. She is in France at the moment, and her post card suggests that she is having a lovely time. However, I learned from my mother's phone call this afternoon that she has an eye infection, and that the doctors over there gave her eye drops that she was allergic to. But now she's getting better. That's got to suck, though. Not being able to see and all, especially while on an exchange. My poor baby sister...
Actually, that reminds me. In grade four, I had to wear a patch over my left eye for a week, because Laura Sadler scratched my eye while we were playing touch football. I had to put drops in every day, tape white gauze to my face, then put on an eye patch. I remember staying home from school and going over to Anthony Aguacci's house for tea with my mum. It was actually kind of fun...
Anyway, I'm off now! If I don't write tomorrow, assume that I'm sitting on the bathroom floor, losing my innards. Weeeee!
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