Waiter, another drink please?

I'm going to tell you all the same thing I told a friend I hadn't spoken to in quite some time:

Apologies sound like a broken record.

I'm drinking a very strange version of "Sex on the Beach," not that it's a cocktail I ever order anyway so I suppose this midori and lime substitute suits me just fine.

Officially, my journey back to Londonland has begun and I'm hoping to get drunk between LA and London to pass the time and make the most of it. Obviously, my gluttonous ways haven't quite left me yet, but I have high hopes (broken record #2).

My current fashion look consists of riding boots, leggings, and size 2X sweaters (soon to be jumpers). Add to the fact that I'm 10 pounds more than I'd like to be ideally, and 20 pounds more than I'd like to be in my dreams... aaaaaaaaaand this sentence is going no where. Much like my glorious food plans (broken record #3).

Dyed my hair again (BR #4). Red now for those of you who are one the edge of your seats to know. This decision occurred about an hour before I needed to leave for the airport.

See? This is a rubbish post. No words of wisdom, no stories to horrify you, and nothing really exciting to say.

There's a 12 year old walking around in a giant 10-galloon hat. I hope he passes my way so I can accidentally trip him and knock some Republican out before it's completely too late. Nothing wrong with being a Republican except the party has taken a scary turn in the past year that frankly makes me wish I could annex off San Francisco and start my own country.

Savoryberg. Home of the crazy.

What was I talking about? Oh right, Cocktails.

Ew. I just got down to the last 3rd of this thing and I swear even though I stirred the damn glass, it's all vodka and lime from here on out.

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So NYResolutions. From here on out, I told you all I would become a Vegan. Do I still want to do this? Hmm... I suppose I really want to do whatever costs me the least amount of calories and money, also requiring little to no trips to the fridge/kitchen. Can it be done?

I figure I've got my amazing electric kettle to join me on journeys towards herbal tea and tranquility. So juice can be safely erased from my grocery list.

JESUS CHRIST stop filing your nails right next to me?!!!!!! Ugh. Most upsetting noise I can think of. That and the enviously thin 8 year old boy shouting "Mam. Mam. MAM. MAAM!" Stop it. Now.

Uh, it's probably safe to say I can go without the carby fatty shit I've been surviving on for the past few months. Goodbye sandwiches, pizza, and bready cheesy bread bread.

Hmm. What's that leave? Fruits, veggies and the occasional sushi roll? haha.

I just chugged down the rest of the drink and I'm making a very upset face. Wish you could see it.

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Normally, I would never post this kind of rambling garbage, but you all haven't heard from me in so long that I question whether some of you think I might be locked up in a basement somewhere. Or a rotting corpse waiting to be discovered or eaten by stray dogs.

When did this turn so morbid? In short, I'm alive and definitely not drunk enough. A skinny pretty bitch in heels (WHO CAN WEAR HEELS TO THE AIRPORT!?) just walked by and I'm definitely jealous (BR #5).

This must be remedied. More alchohol and less food please.