For the first time in a long time, I babysat earlier this evening. I'm not overly fond of these two kids, but I can get along with them just fine. Of course, I always compare babysitting jobs witha little boy named Alex I used to sit for all the time. It's really too bad that he moved, because we got along PERFECTLY, his mother loved me, and the pay was outstanding.

They watched Spider-Man nice and quiet like, and shared some fruit snacks. Those fruit snacks lured me in, and Caleb had four packets alone. I could smell the sugar, so when the kids were asleep, I was all over those fruit snacks like an addict to a free rock of crack.

When I had finished my freaking 6th packet, I felt terrible. My guilt set in that I was eating their food without asking, and eating so many carbs and sugars. Fifteen minutes later, I was home, in the bathroom, shoving a finger down my throat and trying to get all that shit I put into my system out again. It came up as a bittersweet taste, and I'm not sure if I've tasted anything so wretched in all my life.

However, when I got on the scales this morning they said 137; a mark I haven't seen since the summer after 7th grade. Applause is welcome.

The fair was great. Ariana and I captured quite a few Kodak moments. Her on a tractor, me and my 'sexy biotch' pose on a tractor, us with the fish that she won, us in front of a HUGE ASS TURKEY, us modeling with a goat....blah blah blah.

I'll write later.