my plan (but mostly a way to build confidence and reassurance.)

for the next month, perhaps into June, I would like to lose 15 lbs. Now the problem is I can’t tell anyone because they’ll say I’m crazy and look just fine the way I am. WELL I AM NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THIS EXTRA WEIGHT I’VE GAINED THANKS TO BIRTH CONTROL AND EATING LIKE A BROKE ASS COLLEGE STUDENT. so bring it on.

So, I plan to do interval training, and a steady diet of mostly fish, and vegetables. without dressing, despite how gross that will be. If I am dying for something sweet, I will eat a fruit. No more fast food. No breads or starchy foods or high fucking fructose corn syrup. I will drink water, not soda pop. If I must drink something sweet, it will be that flavored water with under 5 calories.
If I plan on getting white girl wasted certain nights, it’ll have to be vodka or low calorie beer.

I tried this close to the beginning of the fall semester, and it worked. I lost 5 lbs, and felt great about myself. However, I got lazy so I went into hibernation.

I would like to look like this silly chick: http://www.wildfoxcouture.com/ProductImages/Products/43927/VPM/41.jpg

somewhat personal things i felt like writing down

this is one of those days where i have excessive feelings of missing living at home, hating college, and being disconnected from humanity. I have no choice but to continue this theme of growing up. I don’t want to. So much in fact, it makes my eyes tear up. I hate it. Sure, it can be really fun driving late at night or drinking with friends. Sure, it can be incredibly fulfilling to have a relationship and responsibilities.

But deep down I just don’t want it, and it bothers me that I feel this way so often. Hindsight says I should have savored my days before I moved, and not concentrated so hard on getting out. But that was how I got by- thinking of the future. Now, the future seems so far out of my hands that I’m scared of thinking about it. My Dad’s house provided a framework not just a shelter from the physical outside world, but the idea of an outside world. It assured me that I was O.K and safe.

I have hated walking up the stairs to my apartment, since the day I moved the last box in. The excitement was over, and reality had set in: I was alone.

It almost makes me wonder why nobody bothered to put this in the speech given at my graduation. “No matter how many times you return home, it won’t be the same. No matter how many times you sit and look at your empty closet, where the old paint met the new paint, the same dust in the corner, you won’t feel home.”