Dear Diary . . . day by day

Friday, July 14th - Bastille Day! Sushi! Boobage!
Someone here at work got three boxes of Kentucky Bourbon Chocolate Fudge as a gift, and they've been leaving it out so we'll all help them eat it. And we do. I hate this; I have no trouble avoiding the Cheez-its and other salty snacks we provide here, but chocolate . . . jeez, why do I hafta have such a sweet tooth?
This fudge tastes great at first, but the end - the aftertaste, if you will - feels like you just did a shot. And, I am just now realizing - much, much too late - that you CAN get drunk off this stuff . . .
I thought alcohol was supposed to burn off when you cook it? I think they mixed the bourbon in at the end on this stuff . . whoof!
It was sushi day here at work. Sushi day involves two trips to Genki's for me - one to pick up, one to drop off the cool round dishes. Today it was three, as they'd forgotten to give us any avocado rolls (and I'd ordered extra because many folks here eat no sushi BUT avocado sushi). It sorta ruined sushi day a bit for me, but I'll live.
It's Bastille Day, but I kinda got over my Francophile phase back when I figured out I was never going to pronounce French in any way that wouldn't embarrass me. I am envious of French women and their ability to charm men just by being French. I think there was one sorta homely woman who came into the cafe where David works who was French. She was flirted with just as much as the belly-baring, 20-something cuties; as David told me then, "All French women get extra points just for being French."
How can a boring Midwestern girl not feel resentful over that attitude, I ask you?
Boobs. Today, mine are underwired and resting near the top of my low-cut sundress. Good girls! I had to dress like this today, just to remind myself that I still can have cleavage when I want it. I got a few glances by unskillfull men (sorry, but if I catch you so easily, you need to practice your technique). Not that I'm offended - I needed the ego boost today.
I suppose that's it. I was going to compare my smallish boobs with bigger boobs, but I don't quite have the head for it today. I'm going to go work out, I think. Have a good weekend, if I don't see you before then!
Exercise log:
Hobbled along, groaning and occasionally gripping my thighs because they hurt so bad. I got a couple of odd looks from men and I realized it must look like I had Wild Monkey Sex last night or something. Hah. I haven't had that kind of pain-producing sex in quite some time.
Writing log:
Turned in my story last night for critique by my writing class. It was by far the longest of the three turned in at 4198 words (or about 24 pages). The other two were 15 and 9 pages.
Still, I was so excited by the class (on structure) that I couldn't wait to go home and reread my story (which plays with structure quite a bit); which I did - three times. The first time, I hated it, thought it was cheesy. By the third time, I loved it and was pleased with how clever I am. - Hey, it was pretty late in the evening by that point.
I went to bed and tried to imagine potential illustrators. I couldn't sleep. It may be another two latte day.
I'm currently reading:
Stars in My Pocket Like Grains of Sand by Samuel R. Delany

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