Monday, June 29, 2009

I haven't gone to the gym in a week and I haven't counted any points for Weight Watchers since at *least* Wednesday. This week is probably not going to be one of my greatest in terms of watching my weight, but do I regret anything that happened this week? Heck no!

I've never had a birthday celebration before. Even when I was little... the only real party I had (aside from my 1st birthday, I think) was in 2nd grade and involved Pin the Tail on the Donkey (which I'm not hatin on, by the way). I've never really had anyone plan anything special for me for my birthday... for the past couple years, it's pretty much just been me bothering people and asking them if they'd like to fit in a movie with me that day... and I wound up paying for my ticket.

But this year... it's just so wonderful. I love having my parents visit. I've missed them. As much bitching and moaning I do about my parents... I love them and I really do miss them. I don't want tomorrow to be my last day with them... but I'm so excited for what tomorrow holds. Tomorrow meaning when the sun comes up... because technically... right now it's June 29th, and you know what that means!!! :o)

Today we went to the Mall of America and the most tremendous thing happened... we encountered a booth set up where people were handing out Dr. Pepper... FOR FREE. And I'm talkin cold, full cans of Dr. Pepper. Holy mother of pearl... it was just... glorious. Luminous. Joyful. Not very sorrowful, though (haha. rosary reference! hecka yeahh). My parents don't have a taste for Dr. Pepper... but they each took a can anyway that I stashed in my purse for future use. Oh man. Amazing.

I love cooking for my family. I love drinking wine with my mom and exchanging our drink preferences and realizing that I'm pretty much my mother at this point. I knew it was coming... I could see the storms a-brewin... the winds a-changin... I knew the moment would come where I would look at my reflection in the mirror and see my mother... but I never knew it would come right now... at age 21. I always swore I'd never turn into my mother... that I'd go piss on my own tree, be who I want to be. But nope. You might as well call me Mary Gardner.

It's not a diss on my mom, though. After spending time with her and really truly seeing her as the beautiful and beloved child of God she is (and really... so beautiful... and so strong, too)... realizing that she and I share many odd traits is a huge compliment. An honor.

Today, when I turned 21... I was on Facebook. I was listening to "Falling Slowly" from the Once soundtrack. I wore my green Bennies t-shirt and my favorite pair of blue jeans and my favorite pair of orange socks with snails on them. Yikes. 21. There are pretty much no restrictions on what I can or can't do anymore (except, as my pal Paul so lovingly pointed out, the dream-crusher he is, I cannot be president quite yet).

This has been the most special birthday I can ever remember. And there's still another day left of it. And then a day after that. I'm going to see how far I can stretch these birthday celebrations. Perhaps I can get a whole weeks worth of celebrating in. That would be truly phenomenal.

Anyway. I'm off like a dirty shirt.
Peace,
SG

Sunday, June 28, 2009

My parents came up to visit for my birthday. I friggin love having them here. Oh boy.

At first, I was worried. I cleaned the entire apartment because of the fear of my mom and my different opinions on what is considered a 'sty. But then they got here... and it just got amazing. They got me a cute little happy birthday cake and insisted that we eat it tonight, because today marked the first of my three-day birthday jubilee. I love and embrace the concept of a three-day birthday jubilee! Three days of celebrating my birthday?? Heck yes!! They also insisted on me opening my present from my sister... and boy oh boy am I glad I did!! I got this SWEET wine glass that has something along the lines of "I am the birthday queen!" written all over it. It's positively magnificient. I enjoyed a glass of whtie zin that my mom bought for us to share during this jubilee.... despite the fact that I'm not quite 21. heh. I suppose technically, in the spirit of the jubilee, I am 21. So that glass was completely legit. Of course.

Anyway. We went to Mass at St. Joe, and I laughed because A) my mom's not used to all the kneeling and taking her time with prayers at Mass and not saying her name before receiving the Eucharist... it was fun watching her... heh heh and B) My dad's not used to going to Mass period, as he's a Lutheran/creaster... so he only really goes to church twice a year... so anything I enjoyed watching my mom do, I doubly enjoyed watching my dad. hehe. After Mass we went and looked at the Sacred Heart Chapel and then went back to my apartment for dinner. I made this PHENOMENAL chicken broccoli casserole. My Mom had suggested mixing in some of this spicy southwestern chicken with the regular chicken I had in there, as well as adding cheese on top of the entire dish... and oh my dear sweet 9 pound 8 oz baby infant Jesus... my taste buds have never experienced such utter joy until that moment. Delicious.

I also ate cake tonight. I can expect cake tomorrow night and the night after that as well. This is a jubilee, after all.

Tomorrow, my mom and dad are coming over around 9:00 (IN THE MORNING! AHH!) so I can make them breakfast/my mom can teach me how to make a proper breakfast. Then we're going to spend the day at the Mall of America, and then come back to the Sams in St. Cloud to pick up some groceries/cookie sheets/muffin tins (yay!) and then come back to the apartment for dinner (meatloaf!! my favorite!!)

It was absolutely lovely being the host tonight, though. I loved serving food and cleaning up for my guests and entertaining them. It felt really good. Plus, I love my parents, and I'm so genuinely excited that they actually wanted to come up here for my birthday. :o) Life is grand. Absolutely grand. A lot grander than yesterday, that's for sure. And that is a story I'm not going to go into (you got a taste of how my day was yesterday from my rated R post under this one... things are much better now... haha), because right now, I'm feeling good, and I don't want to jinx it.

Rawk on.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Quite possibly the longest stream of obscenity I have ever uttered in my life.

Who the FUCK ever decided that it was EVER okay to take someones wet laundry out of the dryer, when it's their turn to do laundry according to the laundry schedule, place it on top of the dryer to finish drying their TWO fucking items of clothing that didn't dry in time for the other person to start drying their full load of laundry? Who DOES that? Apparently, someone in Westkaemper does, and I'm fucking pissed. Grow the fuck up. You didn't sign up for laundry, I did. You weren't done when my time started. I even gave you an entire fucking HOUR extra because you put so much SHIT in the laundry. That is NOT the way it works. So FUCK OFF.

God damn worst fucking day of my life so far. Shit ass mother fucker. GF;HGFASHBUIPAGHP.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

that dress looks nice on you.

Something wonderful is going to happen.

I don't know how to explain my suspicions. I just know it. I'm in for something truly great. And I really don't have an idea what this great thing is. It's just a gut feeling.

Something wonderful is going to happen.

I know I'm due for something wonderful. I know that I've been going up, down, and all around for the past three years of my life, and dang nabbit, the time is now. And by now... I mean... soon. I really don't know when it's going to happen. I don't know what, or who, or where, or why, or how it is... I just know that it is. And it's going to happen. Soon.

I feel as though I'm not just flying at a nice cruising altitude anymore. Something is going to change. I'm descending.. I'm turning... I'm doing something. I'm not crashing. It's a step closer. I'm getting there. I can FEEL it. I'm at the edge of a cliff... a fork in the road... the start of a bridge leading to a place that isn't here anymore. I know it. I don't know when it's going to happen. Or who. Or how. Or why. Or what. I just know that it is. And it's going to happen. Soon.

It might be in a week. It might be in a couple months. But it's going to be soon... even if soon isn't quite right now... within the great context of my life, it's pretty darn soon. I know it because that still small voice inside me kept saying "patience" before. Now it's saying, "get excited." And I am. Because I'm ready for it. Bring it.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

June 29.

My birthday is on June 29th this year. That is in one week. 7 days. I guess 8 days if you still count today, but I would rather not, because I would rather my birthday come sooner than later. I'll be the big 2-1. I'm excited, because this year, since I'm in Minnesota, my parents are coming up to visit me for my birthday. This is quite epic, seeing as how my parents always come up with excuses to not visit me at any given opportunity for family bonding that the school offers. My parents will be coming up Saturday and will be leaving Tuesday. I think Saturday I'm going to go to Mass, cook them dinner, and maybe go see a movie. Sunday... I think Sunday I want to go to the Mall of America, since they've never been, and then maybe swing down to Hastings to learn about the history my family has there. I'll make dinner for my family again on Sunday night, and who knows what we'll do after. I really have no idea. Monday, I have to work until noon, but then after I'm going to show my parents around campus and take them to see the transportation shop. I'm super excited for that. Then after that I was thinking about hittin up the Big Ball o Twine... but then I learned that the BBOT is an hour away... so we might not be able to go there... which is sad. I can't think of anything better to do with my family than go see a big ball of twine. haha. But then, that night, since I can't go to prison as I will be in the company of my parents, I think they're going to take me out to dinner... to a restaraunt I haven't decided on yet. I would love to do something fun in the evening... like bowling!!... but I guess that depends on a) what time it is, b) how tired my parents are, and c) if any of my friends are up for going out on a monday night.

I was facing this huge dilemma tonight... should I post my birthday on Facebook, or no? I was very strongly opposed to it at first, because I'm really tired of getting a billion messages from people I haven't seen since my sophomore year of high school wishing me a happy birthday. But you know what? To be honest... it's nice having someone remember your birthday. And if I never told anyone my birthday, it would be good, because they could see it up on facebook. And I decided that I don't think I could really handle people forgetting my birthday... i'm just too stinking lonely up here as it is sometimes... especially at this particular time of the month, when I know my stupid and psychotic ex-boyfriend named Fred will probably wind up scratching at my door again... which he does every single month... almost like clockwork. I know one time he left me a few drunk messages on my voicemail saying he would stop by, but he was too busy drinking his weight in liquor, thus reminding me of why I dumped his sorry behind to begin with, but not showing up that time. But seriously. This guy is just crazy. And he's so stinking moody!! Ugh! Fred! Seriously! ah. sorry. I just get all worked up thinking about it sometimes. hahaha ("once you GET THIS...."--bobertz). Conversations involving Fred are always the best conversations, though. But that's beside the point. The point is that I want people to know when my birthday is. I want my birthday to be a time of celebration. I want to know that someone out there cares that I was born on June 29, 1988. I want someone to prove my silly brain wrong... when it tells me that my birthday isn't a special day at all... I want it to be special. So basically, what I'm trying to say is that my birthday is now posted on Facebook. I gave in.

This post is entirely too long for the subject matter. But it's too late to apologize... it's too laaaaaate....

I feel better already.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

I'm interested in going on a road trip. A legit one. Out of state. Anywhere. But please. Get me away from here. Please? This place is suffocating me.

JVC

I get asked often what exactly I want to do after graduation with a degree in theology and minor in nothing (it would have been a minor in english/writing, if only they offered classes next semester for english... so frustrating), and slim-pickins for a good ministry job anywhere... and the only real confident answer I can give is that I am definitely not going to grad school anytime soon. I also tend to give this automated answer about the possibility of volunteering. I have definitely been thinking about taking a year or two off to volunteer with some volunteer agency somewhere since the beginning of my sophomore year... but honestly... I just haven't given it deeper thought since. It's always been in the back of my mind, however, and the other night I decided to visit the Jesuit Volunteer Corp website (which is the one I was the most intrigued by two years ago) and I felt it. I felt it. I don't know what it is, exactly, but I felt it. It made me feel like how Elizabeth must have felt when Mary visited her carrying the Christ child, and the baby lept in her own womb. I don't have any babies in my womb or anything, but something in me bursted. I just got so excited. I haven't felt this since my freshman year when I started learning about being a bus driver. Well actually, the last time I felt this kind of "soul burst" was more this past year... I've actually felt it a couple times for a couple of situations. But. The most concrete example I have of the soul burst would be the bus driving example, especially since that is proof enough to me that the soul burst leads me into good directions. And you know, my sophomore year I was trying to discern the possibility of transferring to either Loyola or DePaul University in Chicago, and I decided not to transfer at all, but I did also learn that I would loove to go to Loyola when I am able to. And the other night, upon further investigating the JVC website, I learned of the Magis program, which is a special Masters program for former JVCs through Loyola University, where they all live in community and are assigned to certain volunteering locations in Chicago and also take classes to get a masters degree in whatever areas are listed with the program (including pastoral studies and secondary education... which is pretty much right up my alley).

But anyway. I'm indescribably excited at this possibility. It just feels like good things are right around the bend for me in my life right now... and the possibility of being part of the Jesuit Volunteer Corp after graduation is part of it. If anyone is reading this who just so happens to have experience with the JVC, please feel free to comment this blog, I'd love to hear about your experiences. :-)

Bye. :o)

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Celebrations

I mostly have one celebration... that I hit the 5 pound mark at Weight Watchers! Woooooo. haha. I still like to claim that I lost more than 5 pounds... because if you consider the weight I was at the beginning of the year, pre-Weight Watchers, I was actually about 7 pounds heavier. So. Really... my net weight loss is 12 pounds. Very nice.

One thing I've been noticing about starting to lose weight and working out more is that it's getting a lot easier to climb the stairs in the Quad. I can make it up to Quad 2 without feeling as out of breath. Granted, I'm still breathing sort of heavily... moderately/heavily... but it's a LOT easier. I used to have to take a break and collect myself before making my last trek up the final flight of stairs in Luke Hall... but now I can do it all nonstop. I know it's only 2 floors in the Quad, and most people can easily climb 2 floors in the Quad, but you know what, it was hard for me. And now it's getting easier. So there.

I also wanted to make my grown up birthday wish list. I was thinking to myself about it, and I realized it's really pathetic, but still. This is what I want.
1) One year subscription to Weight Watchers magazine.
2) A Weight Watchers dessert cookbook.
3) Some kind of cookbook with suuuuuper easy recipes in it to help me grow in my cooking skills.
4) A new pair of gym shoes
5) One of those nifty Glade air fresheners for my apartment.
6) A blender
7) New silverware (at least a cheap, but complete, set)
8) Money for a haircut and maybe color. Maybe.
9) Groceries
10) Cookie sheets
11) Muffin tins
12) Scrubbing Bubbles bathroom cleaner products (only because I am REALLY curious about them... especially if it really does take the effort out of bathroom cleaning... and I REALLY don't want to spend money on brand-name products... hahaha)
13) Ticket to a Twins game (nosebleed section is fine) [it's funny that I ask this, actually, because I'm not even a big Twins fan or anything... but I really loved the last game I went to because of how much fun I had]
14) One month paid for Weight Watchers
15) A big whiteboard calender for my roommates and I.

And to be completely, 100% honest, a phone call wishing me happy birthday would truly suffice. I'm really past the point where the presents matter. I mean they matter because the things I'm asking for are things that aren't necessarily necessary (with the exception of groceries), but would be helpful if I didn't have to spend my own money on it, you know? I would actually just love a phone call, or a handmade card. :-) Something that tells me that you remembered. That would be lovely.

I think I'm going to play the Sims3 for awhile. That game is bomb. Ka-POW!! ha. Bye.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

I'm finding it more and more difficult to make it to Mass every week in Minnesota. I don't know what it is. Perhaps it's just that St. Joe's doesn't exactly feel like home to me... and I suppose that makes sense. There are a ton of things I really dislike about St. Joe's. For one... I hate how no one holds hands during the Our Father... it only emphasizes the lack of community there and makes being the new guy an even more uncomfortable experience. I'm also weirded out by how the Eucharistic Ministers all douse their hands in Purell before giving communion. I don't like the huge pillars in the middle of the church, making it impossible to see anything if you're sitting in the wrong spot. The priest, however, is an excellent homilist. But it's just... weird. I don't like going there every week because I don't feel welcome and I don't like sitting alone in a room full of people I don't know who I'm not constantly interacting with, you know? I don't mind going to Mass alone at home or at St. John's. I don't even mind going to Mass at the prison (in fact, I prefer it over St. Joe sometimes... ha). Maybe it's the lack of the community... maybe it's the small town... I don't know. I just don't really care for it. And today, for the second time all summer (and before that... for the first time since at *least* elementary school), I woke up for Mass, only to decide that getting more sleep would be more worth it than going to Mass. I don't like that about myself.

In other news... "The Hangover" is way too amazing for words. Holy cow. I don't really know what to say to that other than "Thank You" to whoever thought up that movie for providing me with one of the most entertaining experiences in my life so far. Wow. If you think your life sucks... watch this movie, and you'll feel better about yourself. Imagine having all of these ass backwards, straight out of left field-things happen to you, and you don't remember any bit of how it happened. Wow. That's all I have to say to that one.

I really, really miss bus driving. I definitely don't like this new job as much as I like bus driving... but I'm still finding that I just want to work more. Even if I don't want to be there... I would rather work all day long up until the minute I have to go to bed than not... mostly because my lack of a social life is really starting to take a toll on me. I keep trying to reassure myself that I would be even lonelier at home, which I have no doubt in my mind about... but still. This really just sucks. Maybe it's them. Maybe it's me. Maybe... it's Maybelliene.

In other other news... I bought the Sims3 on Friday. It's amazing. Totally worth the $50 I splurged on it. It's the birthday present I'm giving myself... since I'm pretty sure no one knows/will remember my birthday when it happens, with the exception of my parents and sister who will be travelling up here for the occasion. It would have been the same story if I was at home... it's just I guess being up in Minnesota makes the experience that much more lonely.

In other other other news... I just looked up at my desk and found this quote that I have tacked onto the wall... "Music is your own experience, your thoughts, your wisdom. If you don't live it, it won't come out of your horn." It's from Charlie Parker. I just realized right now that after taking the History of Jazz, I actually know who Charlie Parker was. Hah. I've had that quote for years.

Anyway. Bye.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

if today was your last day, if tomorrow was too late, could you say goodbye to yesterday?

Who were you in high school?






I love asking this question to people who I am just getting to know... or even those people who I have known for awhile but who I haven't asked this question to yet.






Who were you in high school? Are you much different now than back then? Do you like who you are now? Does... "who I am hates who I've been?" (to grammatically incorrectly quote Relient K).






I think who I am right now, in this moment, is quite similar to who I was in high school... on some levels. And on other levels... I think we're quite different.






In high school... I spent almost every single minute of my freetime at church. And then eventually I got a job in the front office at my church (which I still haven't quit... no matter how horrible the pay is and how shitty some of the coworkers are [stress on SOME coworkers... some coworkers are also pretty badass, and chances are if you think that some coworkers in that office are shitty then you are on my side]). If I started to rattle off the list of everything I was involved in at Holy Family Parish, it would take forever, and I don't have forever... but believe you me... if you saw anything under the "Youth Ministry" section in the bulletin or those GIFTED cards we got during Mass once a year... I did it. And I not only participated... but I led it. I very rarely was a participant in anything. I was very conscious about my relationship with God. I seriously, and I don't mean this in a cheesy way, but in a very sincere and honest way, loved the Lord. I loved reading Scripture, going to Mass, spending all my freetime at church volunteering, doing service work, listening to my Christian music (yeahhhh Plus One!!!). I think I was kind of quiet, but friendly. I didn't really belong to any clique, but still had a pretty set group of friends for awhile. I was fearless in high school, too. And by fearless I mean I was actually scared shitless but still at least took a chance. I'll never forget asking that boy to turnabout my freshman year, and how, knees shaking, palms sweating, heart beating fast enough to supply fresh blood for five other people, I walked right up to that boy, abandoned my awesome Matrix-style presentation-invitation and threw a note at him, and then ran away. At least I threw that note. I don't think now I would even let myself do that much. It's funny... one of the things I still always beat myself up about is how insecure I can be around boys (I admit it!!), but the most awesome part of the whole high school experience is that not once did my older and more beautiful sister, Elizabeth, get asked to any school dance... but I did/did the asking and got a positive response. Freshman homecoming, junior homecoming, junior turnabout, senior homecoming, senior turnabout, senior prom. Here's one of my favorite pictures to prove it:




























(I hope Joey doesn't hate me for putting this picture here... but it's on Facebook... so he really can't hate me at all, can he?)




But really. That's who I was in high school. I was nice, friendly, sometimes outgoing, sometimes not, mostly in a church setting.




Now, I think I'm pretty similar, though more grown up about it. I will admit to denying my faith. I will admit to doubting my faith so much that I couldn't even call myself a Christian, and definitely not a Catholic Christian. It's not that I made horrible choices in college or anything... but I've definitely been beaten and broken a few times. My faith isn't so blind anymore. And I still believe. No matter how much has happened in these past three years to tell me to give up, that there is no God, that there is no hope... I still believe. And even now I stray off the original topic because I'm still finding myself completely and hopelessly in love with the Lord... no matter how silent He's been... no matter how much I have kicked and screamed and wanted His attention... I'm afraid to say that I'm considering religious life. I don't know if I could seriously be called to that... I really desire a family too much... but I love God enough to be more open about it now. You never know.


Anyway. Now I kind of wish I had that some courage I had in high school. But at the same time, I think I would still consider myself courageous... just a different kind of courageous. Maybe I think through my actions a little more sometimes and often decide not to do something strictly because of being afraid of it... but at the same time... I did take that leap of faith and come up to Minnesota for school. I did take the leap to stay here rather than transfer. I did take metaphysics last semester and pass with a BC. I did study all summer for my CDL, and then take both the permit test and road test within a couple weeks of arriving on campus, and pass it. Sometimes I make decisions on a "whim" if I feel led to do something... and even if the consequences of said actions don't make sense/aren't what I wanted them to be... just the fact that I followed my intuition and did it says something. And I decided to stay on campus this summer... which is a huge leap for me... considering how much of a homebody I really am. So really... I roar with courage. I may not be as outspoken, and it may take me awhile more to warm up to new people (unless I feel an immediate connection with you... which is rare), but really, I'm actually an awesome person once you get to know me. I don't mean to toot my own horn, but toot toot.


Anyway. I don't know how on-topic this is anymore, so I think I'll just go and read or something now.


PS--I HATE TICKS.

bye.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Things I'm Learning About Myself This Summer

Mainly... I'm either a big hypocrite, or a big contradiction.

1) I hate all the clutter and dirty surfaces in the kitchen, even though my own room looks like the Jolly Green Giant went searching for his long lost puppy in it.

2) I hate it when people are late for meetings... yet I'm pretty much late to everything.

3) I hate it when I see my roommate sleeping in so late during the day (mostly because I have to wake up at the fricking butt crack of dawn and wish I could be sleeping), even though if I have the opportunity to sleep that late, I jump on it.

4) I hate a messy desk at my office, but at home, my desk is a warzone.

5) I hate being bored at work and just doing nothing... but work in itself makes me bored (as well as the whole no sleep thing... ha)

6) I hate having a ton of people around (especially when they just come into the office to take some citrus basil hand lotion... what the hell?), but I get really irritated when I'm all by myself for too long, too.

7) I hate backseat drivers... but if you've ever had to deal with me in the passenger seat, you'll know that I am one myself.

8) I hate it when people slack off at my bus driving job, and yet I do it all the time here in Emmaus (hence the blog updating)

In other news... my office now has air conditioning... except now I can't open the window... which sucks, because right now I'd rather have the window open than the air on. I also lost one full pound this week. Pretty good considering I went home this weekend and gorged myself on Lou Malnati's and Portillos. Indeed.

Back to work. :o)

PS--Johnnie Java TOTALLY opens in 3 days.

Monday, June 1, 2009

As much as I loathed Medieval History fall semester... I still managed to enjoy some of the little gems Theresa Vann liked to throw into casual conversation on a daily basis. Here are some of the most memorable quotes from the Medieval History notebook I found while cleaning through my drawers:


“He hears ‘Love Feast” and he thinks those Christians are down there, having orgies, eating babies.”
(in response to a funky thumping noise heard overhead) “Now they’re dragging a dead body up there I guess”

“Islam spread peacefully. Like a gas. People inhaled Islam and felt peaceful.”

“The Father is butter, the son is MARGARINE. It looks like butter, it tastes like butter, but it’s not butter. And I don’t know what the Holy Spirit is… I Can’t Believe it’s Not Butter…” –On Arianism

“He had red hair, was over 6 feet tall, had big feet, and a big bushy beard which continued to grow after his death. No one messed with Charlemagne”

“It’s the end of the world as we know it…”

“The plague would be a good cause of concern. You know, you turn black and fall over dead. It’d catch my attention.”

“My buddy from grad school once said that psychologists are nice Jewish boys who fainted at the sight of blood.”

:-)
Before I finally start work for the day... I need to vent a little.

Yes. I am trying to lose weight.
No. I am not doing it because I think I'm ugly.
No, I do not appreciate your constant criticisms about the fact that I am trying to lose weight.
No. I am not embarrassed to admit that I am trying to lose weight.
Yes. I have a shitload of weight to lose.
Yes. I am feeling overwhelmed.
No. You are not helping by encouraging me to go to Chipotle all the time or by telling me diet coke is for sissies or by saying, "But you're beautiful the way you are."
Yes. I am beautiful. But that doesn't take away from the fact that I am 235 pounds and should be about 160 at the max for my height to be considered healthy. So suck it.

Seriously. I'm sick of it. I can't believe the lack of support I have found here among my friends for my decision to lose weight. It's pissing me off. If my parents can support me, if strangers at my weight watchers meeting can support me, then you who I have known for x-amount of years should damn well support me. I don't fucking care if you think that I don't need to do it, or if you think that it's stupid that I signed up for weight watchers because that's something your mother would do, or you think that I care too much about how I look or whatever it is you are judging me for. You don't need to hush your voice when we're in a group of people eating food because I'm the one on the diet. For pete's sake, I am finally doing something... I am finally trying to take control of my life. I am not embarrassed by it and you shouldn't be either. Just please, support me. I have between 70 and 80 pounds to lose, and that's a big number, and so far, I'm not doing so well, so I would really just appreciate it if you would shut your tap about low-calorie foods and encourage me. Please. I'm not asking you to do it with me. I'm just asking that you're a little considerate, for God's sake. Think a little before inviting me to Chipotle. Do you realize there are 27 points in a single chicken burrito?? That is my favorite Chipotle food. I only have 30 points to use a day. Don't put me in that situation. I have very little willpower right now, and I am clearly underestimating how nutricious the food I am consuming actually is, considering the fact I have lost absolutely nothing in 2 weeks even though I've been working out and measuring my food down to the tablespoon and the whole shabang. I don't need your judgemental glances or your outward distaste of counting calories. Fuck you. I need to do this for me. If I keep going the way I am going, I am not going to have the quality of life I am looking for. I'm tired of being out of breath when I climb stairs, or of not getting a good quality sleep, or of being to tired in general for anything fun. I'm tired of walking into a store and not finding anything that fits me. I'm tired of barely being able to fit into a fucking airplane seat. You have no right to tell me that this amazingly positive life choice is no good.

So, in conclusion, if you don't have anything nice to say, please don't say it at all. Thank you and goodnight. And by goodnight, I mean, good morning.