So, I know, I haven’t written in ages. I’m moving next month and trying to get all of my affairs in order. Things are going well. Scott and I are finally together. It’s scary since I’m leaving soon but we’re trying to make it work. Since this new found relationship began, I’ve been slowing down with the partying. I spend most weekends with Scott which means I spend them sober. I still get high on the weeknights but not as much as I was. I’ll update again soon.

It’s Thursday afternoon. I have made it through most of the week with little caloric intake. I have lost 2 pounds this week. I am doing well. Enter my mother stage wrong. Every so often my mother being the loving woman that she is, brings me lunch at the office. It is an appreciated gesture but sometimes annoying. Today’s gift of lunch is a cheese steak with fries. If you aren’t from the east coast and don’t know what a cheesesteak is, it’s a sub roll with low quality shredded beef and cheese. It’s quite delicious. It’s also quite the enemy.

The smell of it makes me both hungry and quesy. I take a bite and while it is delicious, I can feel the calories heading straight for my thighs. I’m doing so well, I don’t want this horrid thing. I’m also hungry and broke. I think I’ll eat the sandwich, skip the fries, and take an extra stacker.

Monday morning. My alarm goes off at 8 and I wake up topless, my mouth dry, cuddled up next to Andrew, basking in the happiness of the night before. No, Andrew and I did not sleep together. He’s gay. He did however give me ecstasy last night and keep me company for a terrific roll.

Jump back to Sunday. I sleep most of the day because excruciating cramps have kept me awake all night. I watch movies and cry and wallow in self pity. Finally Andrew comes home and my world brightens up a little with my best friend beside me.

Andrew gives me a baggy and inside it is a beautiful gift. Ecstasy. 6 hours of unbelievable drug induced bliss. Just what I need after such a shit day. About a half hour after I take the pill, my world is transformed from one of misery to one of orgasmic happiness. The wind blowing past my body causes me to shiver with delight. I can do anything. I could fly if I wanted. I do want to, but I’m not stupid enough to think I can actually fly. And it doesn’t matter that I can’t because walking is like flying. I stretch and I can touch the stars. My limbs growing far past normal length. I am invincible. I am happy. Truly happy.

Andrew’s fingers dance along my back and it is as if a million tiny ballerinas are performing swan lake with my body as their stage. As they finish their performance and take their final bows, my body shakes in joy and pleasure.

Andrew tickles me and instead of jumping away as I usually do, I dissolve into a fit of laughter at the sensation on my body and the concept of tickling. What a funny thing it is really. My fit of laughter causes Andrew to laugh causing me to laugh harder and harder causing him to do the same. We spend a good half hour laughing uncontrollably. What a funny thing laughter is.

Andrew runs a feather across my body and I scream in delight at this new sensation. So familiar and so alien.

Andrew bites my arms and my neck and my ears. I errupt in delight.

I roll around on the bed amazed at my own body, every thing it can do and feel. All these new sensations. My leg rubbing against the mattress. The sheet floating about my body. My hair brushing against my back.

I fall asleep cuddled up with Andrew. Joni Mitchell carries me off to dream land. A sense of safety and comfort all around me.

Monday morning. My alarm goes off at 8 and I wake up topless, my mouth dry, cuddled up next to Andrew, basking in the happiness of the night before. It doesn’t matter that I have to work in an hour. It doesn’t matter that my womb is screaming at me. It doesn’t matter that I’m out of tampons. I’m on an ecstasy after glow with nothing but serotonin pulsing through my brain.

I’ve lost 2 1/2 pounds since sunday. I’m not doing it in a particularly healthy way I must admit. I wouldn’t call it an eating disorder per se. I mean, I am eating and I’m not purging. I am however taking stackers after I put anything with more than 50 calories into my body. And I’m drinking loads of green tea to clean my system out. Come pay day I’m tempted to get a box of laxatives. Honestly, I’m running myself ragged. But, 2 1/2 pounds is promising. And it promises to be more promising if I keep it up.

I’m not unattractive. And I’m not that fat. But I could stand to lose a good 5, 10, 50 pounds. I know, unrealistic body goals blah blah blah. Spare me the lecture, I get it. I’m not healthy right now. And mentally as well as physically. But, I’m sick of looking fat at a size 10 around all my size 5 and below friends. 10 is really not that bad of a size. But it is when EVERYONE you know is a fucking stick. Because when your the size 10 in a group of size 5s, you’re HUGE. I’ve done well though, this time last year I was a 14 and the fall before that I was an 18. So, I’m getting there. But, not fast enough. And that’s why I’m doing this to myself. I’m moving in a few months which means I get a fresh start. I’ve always been the chubby girl. I don’t want to be the chubby girl. Which means, I want to lose at least 20 preferably 30 pounds in the next 2 months. Quite the feat I know. But, I can do it. I will do it. I have to do it.

I’m taking Paul (my friend who is totally gorgeous, totally the nicest person ever, and totally a 24 year old virgin by CHOICE) out for a birthday dinner this weekend. We’re going to a little Moroccan place that I love. But, it’s a 7 course meal and there’s no getting out of that. Luckily, I’ll be with someone who I feel totally comfortable around so I won’t get all weird about food and shit like I do around a lot of people.

 

I wonder if I can lose like 5 pounds by then?

 

Scratch that, I WILL lose 5 pounds by then.

This weekend was quite lovely. Friday I came across some lovely mushrooms and went on a nice trip. Andrew stayed sober but was my traveling companion. We walked around town talking and singing and playing guitar. I was loud and eccentric and ridiculous and happy. The general theme of my trip that every moment and experience is unique and you’ll never have it again so you’d better fucking take it in. That and that I really wanted to frolick in a field with sheep and daisies. But such a field does not exist in my suburban hell.

As I was coming down, Mya came over and then Kia called me at midnight saying she needed a babysitter. So Mya and I went over to her house and smoked and talked about life just like we always do.

Saturday was Kia’s 4 year old’s birthday party so I stayed for the day and played with the kids until Wayne got off work at like 11 and picked me up. It was so good to see him since he left town right after I returned. We hung out with his current love interest Dan for a little bit and then called it a night.

Sunday, Andrew and I spent the day together. We went to Elizabeth’s because I wanted to see her girls and ended up spending hours hula hooping and playing princesses and hide and seek. It was nice. Then we went to Andrew’s mom’s house and I made a purchase for his step dad. They smoked with us and we stayed for dinner. Andrew’s mom is hilarious when she’s high. Then, I went home and went to sleep. Just as I hit R.E.M. sleep, Julia called me crying and so I talked to her for a while. Now it’s monday. The day seems slow. I hope.

Dieting is going well. More than anything I’ve just been trying to stay as active as possible. It’s not that hard really. And then watching what I eat somewhat. And the stackers. God I love those things.

I saw an ex boyfriend in the city yesterday while I was running errands. He didn’t recognize me since I’ve changed my hair and lost weight since we broke up and I was wearing sunglasses so he couldn’t see most of my face. But, I caught him checking me out…. And so did his girlfriend. Can’t say I blame him, she’s not very pretty.

It’s been a quiet day at the office so far. There are only 4 of us to begin with, 2 attorneys, a paralegal, and the receptionist ie, me. But, the paralegal is out today and tomorrow due to the fact that she’s getting married in 3 months and is busy with all the wedding prep. And so, it’s been pretty quiet all day. One of the attorneys was in court all morning and then upon his return he and the other attorney went out to lunch. This left me with an hour to do with what I pleased. And so, I went on project playlist and made a playlist to be played (quietly) while I work. Sadly, bands like Less Than Jake and Red Hot Chili Peppers just don’t sound as kick ass when played quietly.

I’ve also drafted about 800,000,000 letters today about this that and the other thing. And it wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the fact that none of our printers like to cooperate with my computer. Tonight I’m babysitting and I think I’ll push for a trip to the park simply because I need some serious exercise. I gained a whopping 5 pounds on vacation and I’m really not having it. I have a bottle of stackers (a.k.a. the best diet pill EVER) in my suitcase and I need to remember to put them in my purse. I also need to invest in some rice cakes for my lunches or something. I will lose 30 lbs before I move if it fucking kills me. I’m going to try and do it without the eating disorders popping backinto the scene. No promises though.

And every thought’s a possibility. And the voices are heard but nothing is seen. Why do you spend this time with me? May be an equal mystery.

For anyone who doesn’t know, that’s the chorus to the Indigo Girls song Mystery. And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is exactly how I felt last night.

Summer is coming to an end. And the nights are cool like Autumn. And last night, I hung out with Andrew all night and couldn’t help but wonder why on earth he puts up with my shit sometimes.

I’ve been really shitty with him lately. Not intentionally really. He was going through this faze before I left. Where he was experimenting with being transgender and wearing skirts and having purple hair. He was behaving in a way more flamboyant fashion than is true to him. And he was unhappy due to the negative energy people were sending him. And he was unhappy due to the fact that he hates his job. But, don’t we all?

While I was away, he was fired. And I came back to the Andrew I’ve been friends with since Freshman year. The Andrew who is always smiling and has this lust for life. The Andrew with the buzz cut dirty blonde hair. The Andrew with words of wisdom who wants to sit and talk about anything and everything well into the morning. The Andrew I know. The Andrew I love. The Andrew who is my best friend.

And so last night, we sat out on the deck and we tie-dyed. We tie-dyed my white flowy skirt and the Hello Kitty hoodie that my Autistic childhood friend got me from an anime convention. We smoked a bit. And we talked. About his transgender experiment, his happiness now that he’s not working that soul devouring job anymore, my potential move back to my home town to work as a nanny for Julia’s mom, and just life in general.

I have my best friend back finally. I have a way out of this dead end state. I have family and friends who love me. And, Autumn is slowly creeping up. And Autumn is a wonderful season. I can’t say it’s my favorite because I love them all for their own respective beauty. But Autumn, Autumn is certainly amazing. The way the air feels. And the colors of the leaves. As the nights start earlier and earlier and the whole world just feels and peace to me. I can’t wait. This will be my last Autumn here and I plan to enjoy it to the best of my ability.

At twenty, while riding in the back of my best friend’s car, I came to the realization that I am really just a bitch. The problem is, I’m not even that good at it. I mean, I’m certainly bitchy. And I can be a total bitch just because I feel like it. But, I don’t have the self esteem to be an alpha bitch. Or the looks for that matter. So why don’t I just stop being a bitch? Manipulation is a skil in which I am a master. It’s the only thing I know for sure I’m good at.

I am 4 years old. My parents have just given me the GREATEST birthday present a 4 year old girl could ever hope for : a pink Barbie there are streamers on the handle bars and beads on the wheels that click happily as you ride. There are butterflies and flowers. This….. is a “big kid toy”.

Daddy takes me to learn how to ride. Even with the training wheels, the bike wobbles. I am terrified. I don’t want to fall. I can’t do it. I can’t fall. I won’t fall. I start to cry. Dady tells me that if I don’t stop crying and ride my bike, he will throw it in that dumpster over there. Slowly, I ride home.

By the time I am 5, I don’t ride my bike anymore. I don’t learn to ride without training wheels. I never ask for another bike.

I don’t ride again till I am 12. My friend suggests we bike to the loval TCBY.

“I didn’t bring a bike”

“You can borrow my sister’s”

I don’t want to share my secret. “We didn’t ask and she’s not here.

“She won’t mind.”

I’m out of excuses. “I don’t know how to ride a bike.”

“Really? It’s easy, I’ll teach you.”

And slowly I ride with my best friend to the TCBY. Her easing my fears the whole way. I still don’t like it much and would much rather walk. But, I can ride a bike and that’s all that matters.