You are worthless, Alec Baldwin.

Obvious reasons aside, here is why I identify with Scarlett:

"If I spend an hour in the gym in the morning I feel great about myself for the next three days. I'm like, 'I can eat whatever I want. I went to the gym for an hour three days ago.'"

...I did pilates with Natale for two hours before Christmas, and the night before that, I did a few sit ups. This makes it fine that strawberry ice cream on top of the MASSIVE amount of unnecessary food I have consumed all day ("Oh goodness, I am so full, I could not possibly eat another bite..what's that? Pizza? Oh, well if you insist.") is so delicious at 11:45 p.m., especially on my poor throat, which has been itchy for days now.

Other than eat, today I went to Providence to see Evita with my mom and Natale, which was an interesting musical. Does anyone know where/if Evita's body was found after the 17 years it was missing? The show kind of left me hanging. I was also disappointed to learn that Evita was a money hoarding slut and not the humanitarian saint I for some reason thought she was. 

Maybe I should actually learn more on the subject via historical reference and NOT Andrew Lloyd Webber musical before I pass my final judgement on the woman. But uh...really? She deserved a musical, Andrew?

Then I hung out with Kristina and the Blanchflowers, where Natale informed Mr. Blanchflower that a stool killed Hilary Swank in Million Dollar Baby and we watched Team America, which continues to surprise me with its hilarity, mainly because I think Trey Parkey MAY actually hate Alec Baldwin as much as, if not more than I do.

Burlington with Mumsy to try and get a hardrive and my godforsaken B key refastened at the Apple store, as well as LNT tomorrow.