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perfectclavicles
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Name: Lauren
Birthday: 1/10/1986
Gender: Female
Expertise: STATS:Height: 5'7"CW- 135GW1- 120GW2- 115GW3-105Current BMI: 20%BMI goal: 16%
Message: message me
Member Since:
6/28/2005
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So this weekend didn’t go quite like I’d hoped. I can’t really pretend that my mom and my
relationship is just as good as it used to be.
It isn’t. For most of the weekend
we really couldn’t even stand to be around each other. It just seems that we really know how to
invade each other’s space and hold grudges and then she turns into a loaded gun
when she drinks. Probably a pellet gun,
but hey, even pellets can still hurt like hell and leave a scar.
I ate like a pig all weekend despite trying my damnedest not
to. OK, well, obviously I didn’t try my
damnedest or I wouldn’t have eaten like a pig.
Weekends out of town are basically ruining my life. Hell even Thursday nights out to try and
relieve stress are ruining my life. I
got horribly drunk and threw up for the first time last week after having an
awful day in class giving a group presentation.
So my attempts to try and forget about my woes turned into one big woe when
I got left by my friends and ended up with a hangover the next morning.
My (and these are biblically large quotation marks) “relationship”
with Sid is just awful. We aren’t even
friends, and that’s really all I want. I’ll
never sleep with anyone on a first date ever ever ever again.
I’ve been trying to grow my fingernails out and try to be
more made up and put together lately. I
just really really need to feel attractive, because I feel like an ugly wench
right now. A fat ugly wench.
I just feel generally really out of control with my life
right now, and that’s where the blogging comes in to try and get things back
into control, to help keep me better organized.
All of my friends’ lives are falling apart at the seams even
worse than mine is.
I feel like I miss something that isn’t even there
anymore. When I’m having a bad day I
think about how I miss my mom or my San Angelo friends and how I could use a
hug. But I really don’t want a hug from
my mother, and my friends from San Angelo are a million miles away and who
knows when or if I’ll see them this year.
I also just feel like I have to fill my life with noise to
drown out my own depressed thoughts. If
I really slow down to stop and think for any length of time I’ll just sit down
in a heap and realize I’m miserable and it’s all been a giant waste.
I don’t know how to be a person that people want to be with.
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| It's the summertime here, and I'm taking summer classes and am largely alone again. And I am resurrecting this journal.
I'm really really lonely and I need a place marker for my personal thoughts.
This really attractive guy I met online called me out of the blue after 6 months of not calling. And I think I fucked it up. All I want to do is have sex with this guy, and I think I fucked it up. WHY AM I SO BAD AT FLIRTING?
I'm afraid I'm going to go through my entire college experience without having had a real relationship, and by real relationship, I mean one where I get past second base. This is pathetic. You'd think that being bisexual would mean that I'd be having more sex because I'm open to dating twice the number of people that straight or gay people date. But it really just means the opposite. I alienate everyone.
I hate my body and I hate myself and how generally unfit I've become. And I'm already afraid of what summer classes and working will bring. Maybe I should just cut off my breasts and sew up my vagina and throw in the towel, because no one is ever going to sleep with me.
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| Ugh, I'm up late studying.
Caloric intake: 1500ish. Absolutely horrible.
Diet Coke count: 7 and runnning.
Screw you college. I'd rather be working out and/or frolicking in a meadow.
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| I just found a grape sitting in the tray of my printer, and thought "Yay! I love grapes."
Painting one's fingernails is an entirely futile task. I painted
them last night, and in a twenty-four hour period, every single nail is
chipped. Add "unrefined hands" to a long list of defective
features I possess.
My eyes have been hurting really badly lately, forcing me to wear my
glasses for the past week. Couple this with my affinity for
cardigans and the adverse weather conditions forcing me to pull back my
hair and we have on our hands someone who not only acts thirty, but
looks it. Great.
Hello? Who is this? Why
hello Mr. Exciting Sexual Encounters, how are you?! Oh, I see,
well, that's quite befitting of your name! I'm so glad that you
called! So what made you call up a girl like me? Me?
Lauren? No, that isn't my name, it's Lauren. *sigh* I
guess you must have dialed the wrong number. No, no
problem. Goodbye.
My mom painted a picture of my cat and framed it for me to hang it on
my wall. Errr, OK. Sparticus Decimus Meridius (Sparky) is immortalized
in an Austin student apartment. Now if I only had a cat
here...god I love kitties.
Today is Matt Damon's birthday. Revel in his genetically superior molecular makeup. Rarr.
I need to buy boots. Is there such a thing as sexy, flat boots?
So I was taking a shower this morning, and heard music coming from
somewhere in my apartment. Did I leave the TV on? No that
wasn't it. Wait, is that...country music? Who is
singing? That would be the person in the adjacent apartment, also
taking a shower, jamming out karaoke style to pop-country on their
radio. Gotta love it.
Is it possible for me to lose 5% body fat by Christmas? Take your
bets ladies and gents. We shall see. Let operation
exercise-a-holic begin. AKA Operation Clavicles. First
thing's first. Where do I find a body fat measurer? But
seriously, take bets. I need the motivation. And the cash.
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Bring back the fat tax!
Hmm, it's 50 degrees outside, making this the fastest changing of the seasons..ever. Last week it was 108. I'm sort of wishing for something more in the mid 70's, but I guess sweater-lovers can't be choosers.
I am way too fucking out of shape. Last week there was hardly any food in my apartment, so I pretty much scraped around for a while, until there literally was no food. My kitchen was purged and ready to be filled with healthy things. So last night I bought tons of fruit and healthy cereal. I don't know what happened, but I've got to start eating healthier. I'm also forcing myself to get on the stair master everyday and do my ab workout. Well, not really forcing myself. My reward for working out is that I get to watch The Daily Show after ward while I stretch. I can't believe it, but I don't really fit into a couple of pairs of jeans that I bought this summer from Express. I mean they were tight when I bought them, they're stretch denim, but they still aren't comfortable. I'd love for them to be loose-fitting. I want all of my clothes to be loose.
You know, it's a lot more expensive to eat healthy things than it is to eat bad foods. Has anyone else noticed this? Por exemplo:
A pound of dried spaghetti costs what? 2 dollars? Ten pounds of rice costs about 5 dollars. Try buying 10 pounds worth of fresh fruit and vegetables for 5 dollars. Ground meat is pennies on the dollar, but 2 boneless skinless chicken breasts are usually around 8 dollars when I go shopping. Surprisingly enough too those ridiculously obscene large bags of potato chips usually cost the same price as a bag of rice cakes. Shouldn't this be the other way around? Are healthy people being taxed for wanting to be thin? What ever happened to the fat tax? That's the only way America is going to stop being obese anyway. | | |
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