...i'm not your bitch...

Last night, I bought dinner off a truck. Chicken fried rice outside of Sid Smith Hall, yeah baby. I got it into my head that since it was out of a truck, it must be swimming in bacteria, so to counteract that, I doused it in soy sauce, figuring the salt would kill any germs around. It tasted like shit, but hey, I'm alive this morning so maybe my theory worked.

It occurs to me that with my currently insane schedule which keeps me out of the house from 9am to around midnight or 1am every day, this sort of haphazard meal will become more frequent. Oh, joy.

In my schedule, under December 17 (the day after my last exam): Out of trees with Rachel.

Someone asked me yesterday why I'm so anti-boyfriend, and dealing with all the non-commits, and brushing off the want-to-stick-arounds - because darlings, this is not the year of the boyfriend, it is the year of the sloot (which I am adopting from Meliss, because really it's hers). Relationships are more trouble than they're worth. I mean honestly, non-relationships are more trouble than they're worth, so, you know?

But naturally, if the fellow with the "interesting footwear", as Swig referred to him, were suddenly to show up on my doorstep available and with a red bow, then we would throw away all this non-commit business, because, yes. He is special. And even his best friend, who is also mine, wants us to get together (her exact words: you should run away together!) so that's gotta mean something.

Guess where I am? Robarts baby. Me and Robarts Library, we're going to have a very close and personal relationship for the next few weeks. We'll be like *this*. BFFAEAEAE :)