breaking news: I hate soya milk

I had corn chips for breakfast. Oh, Susan, you say, shaking your head in unsurprised dismay, how is that any different from the days you're NOT on a diet? Well, dear readers, to you I say FIE. They're organic blue corn chips! And I'm allowed.

True, it was a little poorly planned to be eating them right off the bat, but here's my explanation: I was hungry and in a hurry. See, last night I read through the book and made a grocery list; also, there was some kind of exciting arrest made in front of the fire hall next door! There were like, six squad cars, and someone yelling for someone else to get down and keep his hands where they could be seen. This has nothing to do with my diet. It's just interesting. RIGHT. Now, the another reason I chose to go on this diet was that I pretty much ran out of food chez moi. I was going to have to go grocery shopping anyway, so why not restock with healthy and organic stuff, and see how far it got me?

Unfortunately, the No Frills in St. James Town is not noted for catering to the hippy element. So, when I finally hauled my ass out of bed this morning, I had to stumble down to the 24h Dominion's at Ryerson University. It is incredibly difficult to read labels and negotiate a shopping cart down aisles when you're sleep-deprived, craving caffeine, and suffering from a slight case of vertigo caused by the previous two things. Oh, and also an empty stomach. Besides coffee, I'm not yet suffering any extreme cravings for any one thing; rather, everytime I see something I'm not allowed to eat for the next three weeks, I suffer minor pangs that go away the instant my attention is drawn by another thing I'm not allowed.

The whole ordeal (and I do not use that term lightly) took longer than anticipated. You'll recall that I mentioned a job interview; the damn place was up at York U. I booted it home on the subway, showered, and crammed a job lot of chips down my throat as I dressed. Classy, yes. Then back on the subway, and then on a bus. It actually took me a lot less time to get there than I thought it would; I made up for it, however, by missing my stop. By a lot.

I'd decided, by the sounds and location of it, that it was a seedy pool hall for the locals. My suspicions seemed confirmed when I saw the outside; however, it was actually not that bad inside. And the owner turned out to be a nice little Chinese man who reminded me irresistably of semi-relatives on my Dad's side. In other words, if I lived closer, I'd totally work there. Which would probably be a huge mistake, but I'm honestly a sucker for older Chinese people.