Monday, May 7, 2012

Chocolate Whips yogurt- 160
There I ate. Now I am slightly grumpy... And I wanna try out my new gluten free pancake mix... grumble grumble... sigh. >.<
I'm actually terrified I will move out and he won't miss me at all, or he will say he just misses me as friends. I am terrified we will never get anywhere. I'm terrified to be involved again, and terrified to be hurt again. I am also terrified if I stay here nothing will happen. Sigh...
I think maybe I am giving him too much attention though. I am giving him space sometimes. And I don't get emotional around him. I was messed up all yesterday and he kept trying to get me to tell him what was wrong but I couldn't say. I'm not sure I knew.
Guys can be really shallow when it comes to emotions. He will continue to  believe he doesn't have any for me. For someone with such a high IQ, this one can be pretty stupid.
For example, he thinks to lose weight he needs diet food. HELLO! It's called portion control!
Men. x.x
I am so glad my little sisters are growing up to be extremely sexist. They don't need men until they are good and ready. Well... Some of my sisters anyways. I have too many.
Weird mood almost right now. I can't quite place it...
Every time I smell spring it is a flashback and I end up going down memory lane with extremely precise details...

Ugh he is trying to get me to eat. I should not have mentioned I was hungry. I think I am just trying to get him to make food for me because I m too lazy to do it myself.

My mom brought by some make up for me. *Love my mom!*
I think she took it out of her own makeup too. In it is a pencil sharpener. My eyeliner was going dull. That eyeliner was my only makeup too. She also put in a hair brush even though she couldn't find mine. Moms are awesome. She really does try...
Isn't mother's day coming up???
H just poked me in the butt with a bowl I asked him to find for me... Normal... It's completely normal...
And I just discovered there was no brown sugar. I know who ate it... K.
H tsk tsk tsk...
He's flirting with me x.x
And he probably doesn't realize it.
He always likes to grab me when I'm going to leave the room. He'll grab me around the middle or grab my leg and then ask why I'm not leaving. Then he tickles me which I HATE. I was just trying to escape and he tried to bring me into the other room and I grabbed the doorway and brought us both down and then I tried to bite him which he thought was hilarious. then I used my last defense. I pulled his socks off and threw them. I would be kidnapped really easy... x.x
I'm not sure I like it. There is no way for me to not flirt back then unless I want to sound really pissed and make him upset. Maybe that is what I should do... but I can't handle that kind of stress when I am living with him. Sigh...
He has also started with the... I don't know what to call it.
When we were a couple he used to just grab my ass and honk my boobs all the time. Yes it's awful but when it's gone I feel... like my body is unappreciated. I wouldn't mind a whistle from a construction worker every once in a while you know?
But lately he hasn't exactly started it up again, but he is avoiding my butt less. Like when he tried to roll me over to see my face, I think he purposely grabbed my butt. Before when he did that a few weeks ago he would carefully avoid touching any inappropriate places. Also, earlier he put the little blond dog on my legs and made her paws paw at my behind. Idk if it's just random playing and I am thinking too much into it, but it seems to me to have some underlying meaning that he isn't purposely and blatantly trying to send across. I am probably thinking too much into it.
He does get angry at me less lately. And he seeks out my attention sometimes. It's weird. I'm not sure what to think or do. I think I will just let it go. I haven't been going on nightly crying jags for a while either. I haven't said anything about the breakup or us in any kind of person way. I haven't blamed him for anything. I haven't confronted him for more than why he wouldn't stick up for me against R. But I let it go. I am learning to let go a bit. I am a control freak sometimes, but I am using my control elsewhere ;)
I am still gearing up for when he goes over to R's without me. I will learn to get along without him. I will be fine, and I need to be fine and let him go. Fat chance of letting him go but yeah.
Happy pets on Facebook. Lol. I love animals and I am OCD and love collecting.
I have been on it for hours just waiting to see what color the new kitten in the basket will be. x.x
That is what it means to have no life.
I have gained a new user. Danii I apologize. I slightly panicked when I saw your name and I won't say why. I got paranoid that you were K and I'm sorry. I have this somewhat but not completely irrational fear that K will make her own account and pretend to be friends with me. Stupid right?
I still haven't gotten around to making the cupcakes. I am eating a fruit cup of pears. 70 calories I believe.
I have developed this awful habit. Every time I sit down i naturally tuck my left leg under me and then it falls asleep. Every single time I have sat down in the last week I have done this. I don't even think about it. It's weird...
H is up...
Oh and Miss Mad, I also am lactose intolerant. I do believe I have a gluten allergy. H has pretty much confirmed it with his ridiculous experiments. I haven't been super stressed lately for some reason. Probably because it is spring. And when I can blog a lot and spend a lot of time online I relax. I need a computer...
I was just panicking and when I panic I start to doubt EVERYTHING.
Love all
Ugh. I went to make myself a veggie dog; 30-40 calories each by the way, and I put them in the microwave and check out the package and there is gluten in them. Now I feel guilty for asking H for them. No one else will eat the veggie ones... So I thought, I would tell him I ate them before I checked the package.
Then I got out my very expensive gluten free hot dog buns- made out of tapioca?- and they are molded over even though we got them yesterday. I didn't know what to do because now I feel double awful so I just put them back in the bag and put the bag back. I threw away the hot dogs. I buried them in the garbage. I feel so stupid. I feel like I selfishly asked for something expensive and then just threw it away. It makes me feel selfish. I don't know how I'm going to tell him.
I even feel like maybe I made up the whole gluten thing. I did eat that regular hot dog bun the other day and I was fine. I just can't tell anymore. Something really is upsetting my stomach every day but it could be something like stress. I stress out too much. I really don't know either way. Going for a few weeks without gluten really did make the stomach aches stop, but I don't understand... Sigh.
It's like the time he bought me a cream soda in a special brand and I said it tasted disgusting and I felt really awful afterwards, but without him knowing I poured the thing out anyways. I still feel guilty about that. I feel ungrateful.
I'm going to make cupcakes today. I guess not soon though, because K got up and turned the oven on for some reason. She better not have decided to copy me like she always does. It's funny but also annoying. Why does she suddenly want to do everything I do? Can't she get her own life? At least my ideas are original. She doesn't even have her own personality because she is always too busy pretending to be someone else- pretending to be everyone else around her.
A friend of hers killed herself because K wouldn't stop pretending to be her. That's the story I heard anyways. It's very disturbing to have your own personality mirrored back to you. It's disturbing especially for me, because I have fought very hard my entire life to find some individuality. I need to be different and unique. It is crushing to be told that every one of your sister laughs and talks and LOOKS just like you do. I was always one of the girls. I was never myself.
I'm sipping a vanilla latte protein drink right now trying to calm down. I don't know why I have been so on edge lately. I need to lose weight though, that is for certain.
When I was in the store yesterday I saw the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She was perfect in every way. She was wearing sweat shorts that bagged around her perfectly tanned legs and tiny ass, and she has dark brown hair and the perfect jock face with pretty eyes... And she was sitting there talking ecstatically to a guy who was just grinning ear to ear he was so happy that she was talking to him. I need to be like that. I need to be first, pretty, and then maybe I can achieve beautiful. The perfect size zero. That's what I need to be.

I also need to slim down for swimsuit season. I have never worn a two piece before because I wasn't allowed- Mormon rules- and now Y says he will buy me one so that I can go swimming. My old swimsuits are too big anyways. But I have to lose weight first!
Um... water weight?
I know I was that much because I checked twice.
Either way my stomach is super super super upset and I think K is only pretending to be asleep and is reading over my shoulder but I don't really give a fuck right now lol.
I think it's because I panicked yesterday and after eating a chef salad with at least 400 calories of ranch on it with my fingers I threw up. And H heard me throwing up... but I played it off like I got sick. Because my stomach is still upset I can play it off that way too. I think that throwing up set my already broken intestines to unhappy mode.
I think I may have another allergy besides gluten and dairy. I might not even have those ones. I'm really not sure now. There was only one occurrence where a gluten product did not bother me, but I think something was weird in there... like maybe because I ate it with a hot dog, it masked the intensity of it. Then there is the fact that all these years I listened to my mom and thought it was all in my head. I felt like I was making it up. How do you make up a stomach ache in your head? I haven't a clue.
But it was an everyday occurrence so it became normal to me. I thought nothing of it because I was used to it. I didn't know what healthy really felt like, so I didn't have anything to compare it with. Sad.
Anyways... I have some weird thing where most of the time I can't tell whether I am actually hungry or if I just want to eat emotionally, and it ties in with that. Pain is weird for me. It's normal I guess. Pain feels normal to me so it's hard to tell when something is actually wrong. x.x
H was complaining about how expensive gluten free food was. I just stayed silent the entire time we were at the store yesterday. He would pick up some burgers, a pizza crust... His dad got him something from a drive through, and as soon as I smelled it I had to concentrate on controlling myself because I swear I was this close to crying. He kept turning around and asking if I wanted cookies and things, and then he'd be like, "oh yeah you can't have them... sorry." Cookies have gluten in them.
I hate when he complains. He was complaining earlier about having to use a food card too, and needing a job. At least he has a phone and games, and a place to stay no matter what happens. He has a supportive dad. If things get rough for me, I have nothing. I have the streets. I have friends, but no one who would take me in if I got put on the streets. He has several friends who would take him in. I am always envying him. It's hard not to. I am envying a guy who is 24 and living with his dad. I am envying a man in poverty. What does that say about me?
I guess I really need to be greatful for what I have, but when I have to make a list, I have a hard time putting things on it.
Let's see...

  1. I get to make cupcakes. peanut butter ones with chocolate frosting but I guess I forgot cocoa at the store. Oops. I'll pick some up tomorrow... That's one thing.
  2. I am not obese. There is another.
  3. I have food to eat, and water to drink.
  4. I have some friends.
  5. I have an mp3 player- that's nice.
  6. I have an xbox- with no games but an xbox none the less.
  7. I can borrow games from H.
  8. I can watch TV
  9. I can be on the computer
  10. I have a phone
  11. I have someone to pay for my phone
  12. I'm pretty
  13. I am good at writing and drawing
  14. I have pets
  15. I can walk, and talk, and hear. I have no disabilities. I have a fully working body.
See, that right there is 15 things at least. I guess I should stop whining. I am blessed to have all of these things. I am blessed to have a family I can see sometimes. I do love them... Sigh.
I do have a place to stay, a roof over my head. Temporary or not I should be grateful for that.
Wow, I am ungrateful for life.

***Models- Objects in the Mirror***

Have a good look at these two women, both wearing the same bathing suit. Which one, in your opinion, would you consider as ‘sexier’?
Now, which one do you suppose was raved over as being 'sensational' by judges of one of those ubiquitous ‘I wanna be a supermodel’ type reality shows, and which one was reduced to tears after being harshly criticized for not taking her diet and exercise regime seriously?
Go on... guess…
Yeah, wasn’t hard, was it? The girl on the left, British yummy mummy Jen Hunter, was 24, and at 5’11” and 11 stone (that’s 154 pounds or just under 70 kilos for the rest of us) was told by a judge who is the managing director of a modeling agency that her legs were ‘stocky’ and scolded by former supermodel Rachel Hunter (no relation) for being ‘fat, lazy and greedy.’
While the judges – professionals from the fashion industry – preferred ‘the walking skeleton,’ tens of thousands of television viewers quite adamantly voted for the more voluptuous Ms Hunter, far and away enough to win over the judge’s favourite…
… just a few hours before model Ana Carolina Reston, a 21-year-old Brazilian model, was reported as having died of starvation, trying to live on a diet of apples and tomatoes to keep her catwalk career. Ms Hunter’s Body Mass Index was a healthy 21.5, while the girl on the right, Swedish Marianne Berglund, had a BMI of 16.1, well below the 18.5 considered by health professionals as the minimum weight of a healthy adult woman, and even below the minimum BMI of 18 for models taking part in Madrid Fashion Week, set after catwalk model Luisel Ramos collapsed three months earlier at a fashion show and died from heart failure, having eaten nothing but salads and Diet Coke for three months in her lethal attempt to slim down to the perfect size zero.
Three months after Hunter’s win and Reston’s death, Luisel Ramos’s sister, Eliana, a model with a major Argentine agency, died after having starved herself. Rather than even consider the issue of the fashion industry’s insane demands on young models desperate enough to risk their lives to be thin ‘enough’, her boss, Pancho Dotto, declared well before any coroner’s post mortem that ‘obvious the sisters’ deaths must be due to a genetic problem.’
Of course, this was back in 2006, and things must have gotten better since then, right?
‘It's fantastic to know the public prefer a woman with a few wobbly bits over a stick insect,’ Ms Hunter said after the show and refused to drop three sizes for the show’s prize, a modelling contract with Select Models – despite her win, the contract went instead to her emaciated rival. Cape Management agency offered her work, the first size 12 on their books – but she was rejected in castcalls for being ‘too big.’ Eventually, she signed with Excel Models… a ‘plus size’ agency.
Plus size. The woman is a size 12, with a BMI of 21.5, and she’s considered a ‘plus size’. My BMI is hovering right at the brink of 25, and while I’d be happy to shed a few inches here and there after the usual Christmas binging, I’m no ‘plus size’. The average size for women in the UK is between 14 and 16 (12 to 14 US). The average model size is still a size six to eight (4 to 6 US). Models have always been thinner than average, but a quarter of a century ago, the difference between you and me and the catwalk ladies was eight percent. Now it’s23 per cent.
This month, Brigitte, a German woman’s magazine with a circulation of 700,000 announced a ban on professional models for its fashions shoots after hundreds of its readers wrote to complain about superskinny models. Now, the magazine is recruiting amateurs – history teachers and hotel receptionists and restaurant owners and artists and economics students – to grace the pages of the monthly glossy. And 20,000 normal women have signed up as potential models. For years, editor Andreas Lebert said, the magazine has had to use Photoshop on their professional models to ‘fatten them up,’ – in sharp contrast to the Photoshopped picture of Filippa Hamilton, whose body was digitally altered for a Ralph Lauren Blue Label ad to resemble a bobble-head doll, her normal head on an absurdly thin body. ‘Dude,’ Cory Doctorow howled with laughter on his blog, ‘her head’s bigger than her pelvis!’
The gorgeous 23 year old was then fired this past October; at 5’10” and 120 pounds, she was considered ‘overweight’ and unable to fit into Ralph Lauren clothes an longer – which is presumably what Ralph Lauren meant when he claimed she was fired ‘as a result of her inability to meet the obligations under her contract with us.’ Meaning… she’s too ‘fat’. The women have to fit in his clothes. Which makes me have to ask – why don’t you just make bigger clothes, Ralph? Newsflash for ya: clothes are supposed to fit the women.
Apparently, Lauren’s fellow fashion designer, Karl Lagersfeld, feels much the same way, insisting ‘Nobody wants to see a curvy woman.’ He accused critics of super-thin models as being a jealous bunch ‘fat, chip-eating mummies,’ thereby insulting every woman who has ever given birth to a child as well. Nice.
And it gets even more ridiculous. Apparently, French shoe designer Christian Louboutin thinks Barbie’s ankles are too fat. That’s right – Barbie. The anorexic doll that bears no resemblance to the anatomy of a real woman, ankles or any other part of her plastic body. But guess who’s redesigning Barbie for her launch this coming May? Mais oui, mes amis, you guessed right again.
Five thousand people have been kicked out of the BeautifulPeople dating site this month for being ‘festive fatties,’ including a New Zealand couple foolish enough to post their post-Christmas photos on the site. The website boasts 600,000 members who collectively vote ‘democratically’ to decide on which applicants are pleasing enough on the eye, while casting out the ‘fatties’. Since all applications are done on-line, and no one comes round to the house to check, I would be curious as to just how many Photoshopped ‘beautiful’ people there are on the site – but I suspect I’m not beautiful or irrational enough to ever find out.
Meanwhile, every time I cruise the internet, I’m bombarded with the ads: Use this one weird tip to a flat belly! Here’s how I lost 42 pound in two months with this simple trick! Get Killer Abs with this Amazing Diet! Whirl Yourself Thin in Ten Minutes a Day on the Fat Burning Bum Tum Thigh Booty Flex King Cardio Energizer Shaper Stepper Sculptor Circle Pro! Little cartoon women expand and contract before my eyes, while a disembodied torso squeezes and jiggles her belly fat at me. It’s everywhere, and it’s pernicious. I spent a day with a friend at a local church hall recently as a roomful of gorgeous, curvaceous, bubbly women sweated and gyrated while doing their best to keep up with the Zumba guy and his coterie of Zumbimbos, all desperate to believe that they, too, could be that thin and gorgeous with what turns out to be little more than an ordinary work-out routine with a few dance moves tossed in and some flash music.
Women’s self-image and, worse, our daughters’ self-image is being driven not just by impossible standards, faked Photoshopped women who’ve never existed, but by a bunch of old fat gay men and neurotic women. Why the hell does anyone listen to them? They’re idiots! Why does anyone listen to them instead of the tens of thousands of people who chose Jen Hunter over Marianne Berglund? Why don’t we see what hundreds of disgruntled German women got tired of seeing in their magazines and complained? Why do we watch these bloody American’s Next Top Model ‘reality’ shows when there’s nothing ‘real’ about them? And if women can’t listen to all those wonderful men who love them, (you guys know who you are) the ones we don’t believe when they tell us we’re sexy, the ones who aren’t homo-neurotic pretentious poseurs of the first order themselves, then here’s a last little quiz for you. Test your own eyes:
One of these women is 180 pound ‘plus size’ model Lizzie Miller, and the other is a ‘sensational’ perfect size zero.
Get the picture?
R has already forgotten he was mad at H. But there is no forgiveness for me. H will be going over there for two days like he always does, playing games, eating too much junk food off the food card and leaving me here with the unending thought process where I realize- I will never be welcome anywhere. It hurts.
But H doesn't really care. He shrugs and says that's just R. I hate how they excuse R for doing everything he does because that's just the way he is. It doesn't matter that I was the one who was wronged. I am the one who has to earn R's forgiveness back.
I hate how R can call me immature and then do things like this. The others will say nothing happened so that R won't be mad at them, but no matter what I say it won't matter because the others are already turning their heads to the side. R is 26. I never realized how stupid he really was.
More than anything else though, I wish someone would stand up for me. H will not do that. His dad won't do that. I don't know anyone else who even should. I am just fed up with people throwing me under the bus so that they don't have to get involved. I'm tired of getting thrown under the bus because they don't want to risk their own emotions, or their own happiness, or anything else. Selfish people make this world go round. I am not selfish. At least I know that. But I feel like in order to survive in this world, especially as a woman, I would have to be a bitch and be selfish, and I would have to learn to live with being unhappy.
There is nothing I can say to R to make him see reason, and that is the most immature part of it all.