Because my body is a temple, I decided to purchase almond milk today to make up for facing a bottle of wine and then drinking enough vodka to kill a small horse last night. It had a slightly sweet and nutty aftertaste, which was well appreciated and I found it more fulfilling than coconut milk. Coconut milk in my highly cultivated opinion tastes like egg nogg’s slimmer and more boring cousin. The one who ended up getting into her first choice school, but quietly died on the inside after she realized the futility of being a business ethics major.
I’ve been on a downward spiral as of late in the healthy eating department. I thought I was doing well this morning when I ate my obligatory hangover mango, but then I met up with a friend from high school and our quick dash to the McDonalds ATM for margarita funds turned into a full blown disgraceful meal. He was still somewhat jetlagged from Paris, and I was simply fulfilling my duty as a good friend and American to force feed him the grease that keeps the cogs of our economy slowly and painfully turning.
Apparently this was his fourth trip to France this year, courtesy of Yale. The last time Drexel did anything for me was not fail my classical social theory midterm I banged out last week. It was an argument concerning Durkheim’s discussion of pre-ordained social facts, and I tried to explain that any qualities or conceptions I possessed were a result of my white middle class discourse. Any attraction to douschebags in boat shoes is out of my control and yet another failure on society’s part. I think my postulations would bring peace of mind to worldwide, and I even went so far as to abstain from quoting popular movies. I fucking deserve to go to France.
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