This weekend past I got out and about a bit. Saw a movie (Inkheart: verdict: no. Why is it that production studios can take a great concept and through very little effort at creating a film version of that concept, completely fail to create anything worth watching? A lazy script, poor editing/directing, and failure to allow the audience to connect with any characters, to the point where I didn't know the names of two of them until about halfway through. I'm just saying.), wandered the shops, and badgered pet store employees again with requests to cuddle the little tiny jack russell puppy with the pink stripe on his back (we decided it was done to tell him apart in the litter), and had a chocolate/coffee/icy drink thing. Then visited some markets, an art gallery (how cultured!) and wandered through the park where a lot of people in red shirts were listening to some guy spouting what I took to be a random pile of shit, until I realised he was calling everyone "comrade" and there were people carrying signs and...
Well. Who knew that was an idea people were still bandying around here?
Anyway. Today I tried to stomp out some frustration by circling the park a few times. It did not work, but it gave me enough entitlement points to feel I'd earned the right to have dinner (after lunch I felt really full and, like all reformists, swore never to eat again). Then I got angry at myself for buying into the idea that food is bad for you. It's difficult, when surrounded by people who are, shall we say, very keen about the whole exercise/health/body shape ideal, to keep yourself from sighing in despair at your own reflection. I get quite angry, really, when people take it upon themselves to not only take on the philosophy, but to ensure that they point out to

Well to hell with that. I'm getting some chocolate.
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