Eating Cereal

Back from Dingleberry's, eating Kellog's corn flakes with splenda and listening to the Marie Antoinette soundtrack. This is my life.

I've realized a couple of days ago, like being stuck by a bolt of lightinging, that I am not in love. No crushes, no "in likes", no "in loves", no nothing. Marc was great while it lasted, but for once in my life I am completely devoid of affection or inclination towards anyone or anything, save for my family and Indian food. I noticed this while watching several sappy romantic comedies in a row and in all honesty I couldn't be happier.

Being in love (and I say this because I have a tendancy to fall fast and hard) or having a crush on someone at this point in my life would prove to be very difficult. Graduation, summer job, then an actual job (either in Georgia or Virginia) is already hard enough. Adding someone else to the equation-- and their ambitions-- is just too much. I never thought I would be happy to be alone. Ha.

I'll be spending the rest of my days at Dingleberry's, even though Christie is no longer working there (where the hell is my non-existent gun? I'll blow someone's face off for that decision) and I have school early in the morning. 5 more days (4, really, I suppose) then it's back to the good old US of A-- where private property can be bigger than the eye can see, where you can get a decent chocolate milkshake on any corner, and the Chick-Fil-A, Wendy's, and bagles will always be open to me. No more non-skim milk (they have no knowledge of such a thing here in Germany) and cold cuts for breakfast.

I'll miss the bread though. God, I'll miss the bread. If you think you've had good bread then come to Germany. Your poor deprived tastebuds will sing "Hallelujah" upon eating a piece of this delicious wood-oven-baked goodness.

The question in my mind as I go to sleep: Why is there honey in my hair?