W-w-whattt? No more Adderall?

If you've read my blog before, you've probably noticed that I love Adderall.

Oh hey, good lookin'. You look familiar... Have I seen you somewhere before?
Ah, yes. On my food pyramid. Because you're all I consume.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's a federally controlled substance here in the United States - mostly because it's basically the pharmaceutical version of Speed.

It keeps me focused so that I can actually do homework and go to class and not feel like killing myself.

It keeps me awake and helps to counteract the constant drowsiness caused by my other medications.

It generally makes me a productive super-parisienne.love that is capable of cleaning the entire house in an hour, doing a week's worth of homework in one night, and organizing the spice cabinet just for kicks.

Oh, and there's this teensy-weensy side effect.

It's an appetite suppressant. One of the best. It used to be marketed as a weight loss drug before the FDA tsk-tsk-ed them for that and now it's used primarily to treat ADHD/ADD in teens and adults.

frenchy mcfrencherson

Gah. I haven't updated in a while. *guilt*

Had my last day of work Friday, started my summer classes on Monday, roommate finally moved out Tuesday, BLOGGER WAS DOWN ON THURSDAY?! So yes, I've been slacking on the updates.

Busy, busy girl.

Oh, and in-between lots of graduation parties and accompanying binges. Thanks for getting your undergraduate degree and using it as an excuse to make me eat in public, drink sugary alcoholic drinks, and get fat. Much love!

But now that I'm back... I'll update the Progress page for the results from Week 3, which ended on Monday. I'll also finally be able to read your comments and blog posts! Excite.

The other night the boyfriend and I were lounging on the couch. It was 9:00 pm. I had my summer class in the morning at 7:30. We were browsing Netflix on my 360 and that's when we found it:

Mes chères études, or, if you don't parlez vous français, Student Services. Spoiler Alert: Don't click read more if you don't, in fact, want to read more...

i want a fanny pack

The other day, as I was on my way to class, I found myself face-to-face, or rather, face-to-back, with a man in saggy purple shorts and a prominently placed fanny pack. Something about this man, with his poor fashion sense and blatant disregard for the fact that it is, indeed, 2011 and not 1999, struck a chord with me. I immediately Facebooked the incidence then forgot about this unfortunate man with his ill-fitting purple shorts and gaudy 90's man-purse. That is, of course, until I started wanting a fanny pack myself. I laid in bed, thinking about the exercise routine I have yet to put into effect (and, knowing myself, will probably never put into effect), and began evaluating my excuses for why I haven't done certain exercises - jogging being one of these.

Jogging
1. I hate running in Soffee shorts because they ride up
2. I'd have to wake up super early to have time for jogging and getting ready for class
3. I'd have to hold onto my keys, cell phone, and iPod the entire time I jogged

ATFLN - because we don't need to spell shit out

If there was an Anorexic Texts From Last Night - which, rest assured, I promptly Google'd to see if this gem is in existence, it's not - I would submit this immediately.

I am officially outraged that ATFLN does not exist. Someone, make this happen.

now.

mini rant ending in doubleplusgood news

If there's anything that I hate more than dentist appointments, it's orthodontist appointments.

At least there's nothing intrinsically embarrassing or taboo about being 20 years old and seeing your dentist. In fact, in most circles I run with, that's an encouraged behavior.

However, braces on adults are like.... Well, they're like braces on adults.

Adults with braces - they all look like this. Even me.

TANOREXIA, now with more bewbs

Oh me, oh my.

My poor, dear bosoms are on fire.

This is the second time this week that I've done this.

The boyfriend and I are on a quest of sorts to make over ourselves before our big move to Miami. We're working out (if you can call it that), eating healthy (restricting), and tanning (becoming lobsters). We shall become beautiful people by the time we move - or hideous, deformed versions of our past selves. Whichever.

On Monday, we were at the tanning salon and it was an unusually crowded day - hello, busy season. We were both put in beds that had literally just been vacated long enough to clean. Room still feverishly hot, scent of burnt flesh wafting in the air.

Mmm, sharing is caring.

"I loathe narcissism, but I approve of vanity."

It's officially May. Two and a half months left until the big move. One week left of work. One month of summer classes starting up soon. And the first two weeks of my diet are almost over.

It's strange. I started this on April 19th. Such an arbitrary date. It did happen to be almost exactly 12 weeks before the date of the move, not that I knew that then. I ordinarily wait for some meaningful time before I start working towards a goal.