Well, I'd like to talk about the new baby, but since I only saw him on the night of his birth when he was hungry, red-faced, and crying with his eyes tightly shut, I don't have much more to say just yet. I'm really excited to see him again when he's looking more like himself. I wish I lived close enough to visit Krystle and Kevin in the hospital (or at home for that matter), but they're probably getting sick of being bombarded with curious visitors anyway. Hopefully James and I will get to see them and the baby this weekend, if they're up for it.

So .. in pursuit of conventional beauty, I've started tanning at a salon and eating less. Neither are working out quite as well as I'd hoped. I have Irish skin that burns quickly (do you have any idea what it feels like to have burned boobs?), and my metabolism is so slow that at this rate, I'll be lucky if I'm slender by the time I'm forty. I'm considering taking those pills with ephedrine in them. Yeah, I know they're considered "evil", but I'm desperate to see some results. Desperate.

I'm going on vacation in less than a month, and I was hoping to improve my appearance and wardrobe just a little by then, but it doesn't look like that's going to happen with my current income, given the fact that a typical haircut and colour in Toronto costs nearly a couple hundred dollars, and clothes seem to become more expensive with each passing year. I'll be job-hunting as soon as I get back. Not that working at a cafe or a clothing store (the only jobs I'm currently qualified for that are relatively easy to get) will make me much more money than I'm currently getting weekly from my mom for doing household chores, but it's better than nothing and I'll feel less like a human sponge. Hopefully I'll make enough money to pay for a few journalism courses. Did I mention I've wanted to get into journalism lately? No, probably not. I don't confide in this place much anymore. Come to think of it, I haven't confided much in anyone about what's going on in my head these days, especially not my parents .. mostly because I have such a terrible track record when it comes to doing anything that might get me somewhere in life that I just assume they'll think I'm full of shit (and justifiably so). Or maybe I just don't feel like talking about anything I want to do anymore for fear of jinxing myself. I don't know.

So this inability to tan is really pissing me off. I started off doing five minutes each session and worked my way up to seven minutes on Monday. The lady at the salon told me I should be increasing my time in there by one minute per session if the previous time hadn't caused any redness, so to be extra-careful, i was only upping it by one minute every two sessions. Seven minutes worked out just fine on Monday, but after doing the same on Tuesday, it is now Wednesday and I'm sporting a rather unappealing burn on the sides of my boobs and some of my back and hips. What gives? Maybe melanin-challenged people like me just weren't meant to tan. My new embarrassing habit of watching Dawson's creek on a daily basis isn't helping, either, since I find myself staring in awe at Katie Holmes and her chocolate milk-hued skin. Someone please tell me that girl is part Hispanic, part Asian, or part Native American, because no white girl should be able to tan to such a degree without burning to a shade of beetroot, or going all orange and shriveled. It's just not fair.

Anyway, it's toilet cleaning day, so I'm off to do just that. Lucky, lucky me.

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