My new roommate, Andy, moved in on Saturday. It's only been a few days, but it's been pretty fun having a roommate again. There are pros and cons to both styles of living, naturally, but its nice to have someone to watch TV with, someone to motivate you to eat less and workout more, and someone who goes to bed at a decent hour, so I do also. Andy is a coworker of mine who got hired at the same time as me but works in Houston. He's here for about 10 weeks for training, but I'll be in Europe for the middle three of those weeks, so it's really just like 3 and 3.

He's a personal trainer in his free time, so he took me to 24 Hour Fitness these past two days to give me a few work out hints. It was really informative, but g*d, I hated pretending that I was going to sign up for a membership, so I'm not going anymore. I gave them a fake number and the fucking guy tried to call me today to tell me about some great deals, so I was totally busted when we walked in. I continued lying through my teeth about it being a real number. I felt so much like Thommi.

I am really trying to lose 10 pounds before I go to Sweden. That is totally doable, according to my live-in trainer, but I think it involves not being a gluttonous pig. Maybe I should just learn to love myself the way I am, since I simultaneously find myself entirely too skinny and entirely too fat. But it doesn't really fucking matter when I wrap myself up in my brand new wardrobe. I went on a bit of a spree this weekend with my personal shopping assistant, Mr. Sean Wardle. A cool grand later, I have some kickass new clothes to wear to the office at headquarters. I also got this jacket that makes me weak in the knees ... from Source Paris, of course. You wish you had this jacket.

I feel like I had a lot more to say before I started. A phone call from JennyCole and a phone call from 27 confirmed the fact that I have nothing to say. Both of them abruptly ended our conversations when I sat silently with the phone to my ear. I promise to fill you all in when I have something to say.

Of course it had nothing to do with the fact that you despise talking on the phone?

“Despise” might be kind of a strong word. I really just loathe talking on the phone.

At first I typed hate, then thought it wasn’t strong enough. It was then a toss up between ‘despise’ and ‘loathe.’ Either way, it’s a feeling we share.