“I had rather be shut up in a very modest cottage with my books, my family and a few old friends, dining on simple bacon, and letting the world roll on as it liked, than to occupy the most splendid post, which any human power can give.” -Thomas Jefferson
That's right, bitches. Jefferson knew his shit, just like we (secular) Jews do. We know it's not Kosher, but...it's bacon! Need I say more?
Anyway,
Dear Meg,
Bloggity bloggity blogger. Your blog makes me want to:
* Cut my hair short again, which is a mistake, so I won't, but I still wanna.
* Eat bacon sandwiches, which again would be a mistake, but I'll still consider it. It's not like I got this lovely curvacious figure by avoiding fattening foods.
* Live in London where it sounds like being fat does not immediately rule out being fashionable. Though, now that I think on it, major cities in the U.S. don't have the fat phobia the way their surrounding counties do. Think about it: having diversity generally means people are more open or at least less inclined to open their ignorant jackholes and try to make someone feel bad for not looking/acting/smelling/etc like everyone else (I know I don't smell like everyone else, I smell like Lush products = yum). In other words, get me the hell out of Martinez.
* Go to museums. Jenn? Jenn, where are you?
* Visit you in England in May, which is distressing because I only have 2.5 weeks in Italy and I have no idea how long it takes to get everywhere and I really really really want to see you and Dan and my friend Nischa in Paris, but how the hell am I going to do all this and spend quality time with my mom, Ollie and the puppy kitten doggies in Genoa? Woe is me. Evidently I can't handle having options (maybe I do belong in Martinez, where there are utterly no options to be found?).
Now my hunger is distracting me. Perhaps I should eat something before continuing.
To Be Continued...
Clearly the love of bacon is genetic.
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