Rationale

You may be pondering why I have suddenly started going to a gym and talking about it. Well, here's the thing my parents have been attending Royal Ascot since I was about, my goodness, eleven years old...maybe thirteen.
To me Royal Ascot can be explained like this: A five day horse racing event in England where women wear different hats with different outfits every day and the men wear morning suits and top hats. Oh, and the Queen is there...and champagne is consumed...and strawberries with cream eaten...and, hmm, oh yes betting on the horses. I've never been to Ascot, I was too snotty a teenager to deem going to it my 'thing'. But I'm going to give in the old graduate school try this summer. And if I'm going to be wearing hats and fancy dresses/suits, so help me I'm going to be thinner than I am now.
This brings me, of course, to the matter of getting to England. Usually when my parents or I have had to travel to, say, Europe, we take planes. We sit next to strangers for six to eight hours and watch movies on tiny little screens either in the seats in front of us or six feet away from us blocked slightly by the stewardesses serving drinks. We eat freeze dried meals and generally feel like the experience should be a little more, shall we say, special. So. That said. My parents and I are going to get to England this summer care of the Queen Mary II. Which looks like this:
And includes this:
Not to mention the (and I do mean to capitalize this entire thing for emphasis): VEUVE CLIQUOT CHAMPAGNE ROOM.
So. If this cruise ship is all it's supposed to be, I'll be blogging from it come June. Six days, so many floors of a ship....all I can think about is David Foster Wallace and how I'm not him and I may, actually, enjoy and abhor my time on the open sea (six days).

Yeah so that's why I'm trying to get skinny, posh horse races and a big freakin' boat. What better reasons are there, really?

My health? Sheesh.