Better Version of Me

If that's not a good song title, I don't know what is. Thank you, Fiona Apple - you are underlooked and over-mocked in my humble opinion. So this may be Friday optimism or Friday delusion, but I'm thinking of making some changes. Not that I don't LOVE sitting at my desk with four IM windows open, an eye on Perez Hilton, another eye on Dlisted, headphones on, and some inner, omniscient eye on the never-moving clock, but...it might be time to think about living up to my - what do they call it? - potential? Yeah, I think that's it.

I had a nice little visit with my doctor this morning, and since her and I are basically BFF (she's seen me so much over the years, she could probably write this blog with more genuine Michelle-ness than I do), we got to talking about my future. Most days I cosider myself a lost cause-old maid-spinster, but some days someone smacks me upside the head with the reminder that I'm 23. So after she did said smacking, my doctor suggested I might want to look into going back to school and getting my MPH (Master of Public Health). I've thought of this before, but for some reason the suggestion really kicked me in the ass this time, and I've been spending the minutes not occupied by salacious gossip blogs and clock-watching researching UC Berkeley's graduate program. I wouldn't be able to apply for a whole year, but I can't lie - this is the most excited and motivated I've been in a while. We'll see if my inner geek has enough of an attention span to get me through the application process. More details to come...

In more pressing news, Brody's hair length changed at least 4 times in this week's The Hills, Lauren made multiple witty comments which led me to believe someone crossed the writers' picket line, and Spencer's sister started looking alarmingly more like him as the episode progressed. All in all, a fantastic week.

And in the spirit of public health education, I'll end on a rant: SCREW YOU CARRIE UNDERWOOD. I'm really grossed out and appalled that Glamour, a magazine I usually enjoy and hold above some of the more degrading titles out there, would publish this shit. After dropping a noticeable amount of weight since her American Idol days (when she looked like an actual living, breathing human woman), Carrie tells the magazine: "I'm slightly obsessive-compulsive about what I eat, more than I should be. I write down everything I eat ... I started doing it last year. And in the last year is when I've gotten more healthy and lost weight." Bravo, Glamour and Ms. Underwood for patting every suffering reader with anorexic-tendencies on the back and letting her know that ritualistically documenting her already-restricted calorie intake is a great way to get that beach body! And kudos for equating starvation and obsessive dieting with being "healthy"! God forbid emaciation goes out of style next season! And so it is with great honor I bestow this week's Lame Ass Award to Carrie Underwood and Glamour Magazine. Lame asses.

Happy Friday!!!!