In which Lambsie is Oo-wee-oo Killer Tofu.

Holy fuck.
They put me on synthroid, which is all fun and games and whatnot, but, Jesu Christo, they then proceed to tell me that consuming soy renders synthroid useless.
I am condemned to eating one meal with soy a week and I am a friggin vegetarian!!! Imagine, one tofu or one edamame or one thing with soy sauce! Soy is everywhere!!!
Tell you what, as of this moment I am officially a seitan worshipper.

In which Lambsie wants Joanna Newsom's hair.

Like, I mean, love love the music and all.
But that goes double for the look.
Can you dig? And yes, I know my hair is short short, but I can cut the bangs like so and let it grow out or not.
And besides, the skinnier I get, the more fucking elfin I get (except the trollish nose haha). It goes.

In which Lambsie needs some respect.

...from you, O veggie-haters.

Know what? I am sick and tired of you idiots hating on vegetarians. What did we ever do to you? Do I, personally, make a fuss over refusing meat? No. So why must you immediately assume I'm about to go militant on your asses when the need to address my vegetarianism arises? Tell me: Are you harboring some feelings of inadequacy? Is it possible you secretly feel guilty about their meat consumption? If so, you need to figure your own self out and stop taking it out on little old me.

And also, please abstain from making fallacious claims to support your unnecessary rant--since when are you the victim? Frankly, I've had enough acquaintances taking liberties with our (trust me, TEMPORARY) association and attacking my personal choices. Yes, that is tofu on my plate and NO, I will not defend myself to you, oh self-righteous carnivore, because you sought an argument where there needn't be any--here, at the dinner table, with your steak knife brandished, just itching to provoke me into a petty attack on the dish in front of you.

But yes, in a tasteful setting, I will voice my opinions. I will voice how vegetarianism IS better for the environment and for your health. I will voice how vegetarianism CAN take us a step closer to ending world hunger.

But I will not voice the horrors of the inhumane treatment of animals whilst you smugly shove a baby cow down your throat, clearly relishing the thought that you are doing so in front of a vegetarian, because I am a polite human being who recognizes your right to eat your veal in peace.

Now give ME the right to eat my tofu and, heaven forbid, feel good about that choice.

In which Lambsie posts an old video.

Just a rough cut. The stupid mac put half my frames in letterbox.
PIGEONS

In which Lambsie's shit is bananas.

A kid from my school. I cried when I saw it.

In which Lambsie is walking it out.

In which Lambsie is tired out.

Started walking and didn't stop until the dehydration and hunger got to me. Some 10 miles, I think. Maybe more. My legs hurt.

In which Lambsie has a new favorite animal.

...besides bunnies, wolves, sheep, cows, cats, dogs, bears, turtles, pigs, frogs, penguins, etc...
I bring to you the Long-eared Jerboa.

In which Lambsie is addicted to hats.

I compulsively buy hats and vegetables.

Vegetables are cheaper.

In which Lambsie goes moo.

Holy shit, farm fresh milk. Where has it been all my life?

In which Lambsie is bored.

Look(!) a picture I took when I couldn't see the screen because of the sun. The closed eyes were not intentional but I look like I'm ascending or something (and yes, I am refering to the stargate kind of ascending). And i look a bit like an emo (which is so a noun now, btdub)(and yes, btdub has wormed its wormy little way into my vocabulary).

I had Indian food tonight at Angon on the Sixth (on E 6th, duh). It was pretty tasty and not too oily like some North Indian food.

There are gays in Argentina. And vegetarians.

In which Lambsie uploads pics from her mobile.

Is it weird that I love the crummy quality of mobile pics?

A typical meal in the life of Lambsie. Seriously, check out my mad veggies.

First snow of the season in Wash Sq Park!


And last, but not least, my balloon animal on steroids.
May she rest in peace.

In which Lambsie is a smiley viking.

Look at me. I am a friggin viking. Even with my hair dark I doubt I could at all pass for a local in Argentina. Oh well.
Stocky Scandanavian am I.

[haha, you can see where my nose was broken]

In which Lambsie loves pigs.

Piggies in tiger vests.

In which Lambsie is mad-eyed.

Okay, discussing the whole eye color changey thing with a buddy from back home and he claims that it isn't just the light, but my eyes definitely get browner when I blush. Okay, first of all, he...um...was observing me more closely than originally perceived and, second of all, I still stand by the whole light thing. When I blush I am usually smiling in a muy sexy way (yeah fucking right) or am cringing in embarrassment (more likely), so in both cases my eyes go squinty. It's the light, people!! I think...

REVISION: ok, apparently it might be possible for my eye color changes with mood...according to some shady scientific sources, yes, but having tried to make myself blush in the mirror several times, my eyes did get kinda dark and stayed that way for a few seconds even after I stopped being all squinty. However, this may just mean that my eyes are getting more glassy. So, um, ha.

In which Lambsie is going to Denmark?

The summer may be half spent wwoofing in America (as antiipated) and the other half wwoofing in Denmark (?!) with a wee bit of backpacking through Germany and (most importantly)a stop in Amsterdam to meet up with one of my (polyandrous) mother's queer husbands.
I got the idea to go myself Denmark after an, um, interesting romp through my great-grandmother's geneology records (by interesting, I mean, "lets see how many wives great-great-grandaddy had") in which I found that my Danish bits go back way far in Vejle (I get my boobs* from the Danes apparently, my ancestors' pics made my back hurt just by looking at them) so I figured I'd check it out and see the place where we were inbred for centuries and see how many people in Vejle look JUST LIKE ME. I look less of a Dane with my new brown hair but, as can be seen in the old pic, my natural dishwater blonde (already greying, unfortunately) is so fucking Danish.

*quick boob rant- I'm still randomly losing weight (and by randomly, I mean I am overly obsessed with locally grown veggies and walk all over the city as an exciting form of procrastination), I might even be a size 10 by the time I make my stunning debut in Buenos Aires, but, alas, my boobs are not jumping on the weight loss bandwagon (lol, great image). Most people would think this is a good thing, without really getting the fact that, hey, not only am I somewhat disproportionate (though, apparently, I still qualify as "badonkulous"), my DDs can get heavy and I will use them to bludgeon the next girl I hear complaining about her cup size to her cell phone (again, great image)...and by quick boob rant, I meant a long one which you didn't really want to hear about...

In which Lambsie is shorn like a sheep.

So Lambsie got herself shorn. And dyed. I was bored I suppose. But now I have this new hair I find myself becoming bored with it. I was so enchanted at first, but now instead of doing something exciting everyday (like in the pic I show), it seems to have settled into a boring, flat, and akin to the style often sported by little boys. BLAH. I need it to at the very least be exciting again like in the pic.
Interestingly enough, my hair has returned to its baby state: short, messy, and dark. Big plus? baby soft. But, like, seriously, who touches it but me (and my mom's lesbian friends who like to scruff it up because, well, it does make me look like a rowdy little boy). So you can imagine how my hair really looks whilst gazing at the far more elegant version I post here.
BTWs,I realize that my eyes change colors every five minutes and no I'm not a dragon (disclaimer necessary after a very nerdy encounter with a very nerdy boy) it is the light. [[Just in case you were wondering about the odd shift from pale blue/grey (never knew that blue was in my iris' repetoire) in my before pic to strange green marble look in the after.]] Each one of my friends has come to that epiphany at some point. One poor friend became quite terrified when my eyes became decidedly gold (never witnessed that one myself, but I have seen my eyes look a shade I can only refer to as scotch whisky). I reiterate, it's the light; I'm not a creature from the book you are reading.
But I'm gonna let the dye fade out maybe, just to see how it is.