The worst thing about being on a diet is that everyone seems obligated to comment on it. It’s not like I want a chorus of agreement when I say I’m on a diet (“About time!” they yell in unison), but it’d be nice not to be shot down every time. Today a student offered me chips, and while I might have accepted when she first opened the bag, the sight of her meditatively licking the flavour off each one before eating it pretty much killed my desire for a taste.

”Thank you,” I said, “but I’m on a diet.” She made loud snorting noises of disgust.

”Miss, you don’t need to be on a diet!” another girl chimed in.

”Thanks [Orlanda], but remember that Family Studies teacher? The one you came in raving about last month, the one who looked great because she’s lost so much weight? I want you to say those things about me.” (And truth in jest, I actually do want that. Ah, vanity.)

(Something amusing: this aforementioned Family Studies teacher has a similar build, similar hair and similar glasses to me. And before she underwent her striking transformation, I used to use her to judge the success of my outfit. The day we both came in wearing nearly-identical grey turtlenecked poorboys and I saw how unflattering it was on her was the last day I ever wore mine.)

The last few days have somehow leached the buoyancy out of me. (I know; hard to believe.) My knitting is at a virtual standstill, though not for a lack of trying (I keep making mistakes, going back, trying again, making mistakes, etc. The falcon cannot find the falconer, anarchy is loosed upon my half-completed booties, what rough beast is this slouching toward Romni waiting to be finished?)

Whew. I haven’t had an outburst of overpriced educational drabble in awhile.

Meanwhile, we went to the zoo last Sunday. And though I love the zoo and love my family, I don’t love the person I become when I go to the zoo with my family. Blake has been having a very very very difficult week. In effect, he turned from Reasonable Lad to “Holy Shit, We Have THAT Kid” Kid. You know that kid – the kid everyone else is wondering why the hell the parents can’t get their damn act together and parent that awful kid properly. Blake is the one screeching and whining when thwarted. Blake is the one running in the opposite direction for no good reason. Blake is the one with a grasp of scatological and profane humour that could get him a job as a sketch writer on Benny Hill. Or at least, South Park. And hello, how did we tap into Pixie’s karma?

Just asking.

Anyway, the zoo wasn’t bad, but I could’ve done with more co-operation from Blake and more presence from the Boy. And I’m sure the both of them could’ve done with a pantsload more patience from me.

Finally, I’ve had this entry in the can for awhile: Bridesmaidmania 3: Revenge of the Silk. Fun!

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 6/01/2006 07:43:00 p.m.