Today is not a good day. It is my own fault of course ~ I thought I had lost weight so I stood on the scales. Once again my number was way higher than I wanted it to be and it brought all my darkest fears to the surface once again. My mind keeps telling me, “Of course this will never work!” I FEEL LIKE THE SPECIAL NEEDS KID IN CLASS I no longer feel like I am part of the ‘in’ crowd. I don’t have a gang to hang out with. I feel like I have gone weird and no-one wants to play with me anymore. If I’m not blogging about how much weight I’ve lost or how I’ve fallen head first into a binge then no-one seems to care. IT IS SO FUCKING SLOW I have been ‘off’ diet for nearly 2 months and I am still figuring things out. I haven’t lost any weight even though my intention is to drop a few kilos. I swing from perfectly happy to confused and bewildered for no apparent reason. I just want to be fixed. I want to easily achieve my naturally slender body and I want it NOW thank you very much. I MISS MY OLD LIFE When I was a very small child I used to suck my thumb. Once I stopped and I got braces my mouth shape was totally different and my thumb never fit properly again. I can still remember the comforting sensation of sucking my thumb that has now is gone forever. Same thing with my old life. I miss the control, I miss the joy of a low scale number and I miss the pride in winning against all the odds. I know it is only because I forgotten the pain … but my old life was familiar and predicitable and this one isn’t. I HAVE NOWHERE ELSE TO GO It is clear that dieting will never be a long term solution for managing my weight as I have proven over and over again in the past 5 years, so if listening to my body doesn’t work either, then I’ll have nowhere else to go … except blobsville. I feel like this is my last chance and I’m stuffing it up. After the blog, how does the author probably feel about skinny people? - That they are better than the author - not enough information - That they have a lot of friends - That people care about them more than the author
That they are better than the author

Not really that huge a deal, but we laughed about it for a while. My friends and I went to see the Gin Blossoms in 1993 at a small venue in Chicago. We were having some beers and enjoying the opening band (they were okay, but not memorable) when this guy came and stood right in front of my roommate. I mean, the floor was filling up, sure, but we’d landed a decent spot right in the middle and he came and stood right in front of her when there was plenty of room off to the side a bit. My roommate and our friend and I looked at each other and were like, “How rude!” Frankly, I was surprised my roommate didn’t do or say anything - holding her tongue wasn’t her forte. I half expected her to spank his bottom - I’d seen her do it before to get some guy’s attention, and this guy was pretty cute. But when that same song came to an end, the guy turned around and actually apologized to all of us. He held up his camera and said he wanted a really good shot of the band as they were friends of his. He actually went and bought each of us a beer, so it totally worked out well. We thanked him and he took off. The only excuse I have for us is that we were in college and not glued to MTV or entertainment magazines, and really, only Hey Jealousy had hit the airwaves when we went to the concert. But sure enough, when the Gin Blossoms took the stage, Robin Wilson gave a shout out to those three girls he’d blocked the stage for earlier and hoped we’d enjoyed our beers. Like I said, it’s pretty tame, but I thought he handled it with class, so it’s always made me remember their music fondly. what did they drink? - not enough information - beers - water - wine
beers

Paul Reynolds crisscrossed his sketchbook with furious strokes, filling the pages with images of the vengeance he would take on his former coworkers at Fear and Loading Games. He'd founded the company three years back and, just a few hours ago, his partners and erstwhile friends had fired him without cause or warning. He concentrated hard as his pen brought to life demonic figures from one of the best-selling comics he'd created, scythe wielding cyber-men called Myrmidons who tore into surprised computer programmers with fangs and claws. Elsewhere on the page, computers assembled themselves into 21st century Golems, rising up against traitorous CEO's and producers to crush them to bloody pulp as they cowered beneath their desks. Sitting at the bar in Señor Goldstein's Mexican Restaurant in San Jose, California, Paul's own artwork engaged him for the first time in months, maybe years. Under other circumstances, that would have made him happy. But today's circumstances allowed only two emotions: despair and a burning desire for revenge. Not wanting to succumb to the former, and not quite wanting to find a gun and go back to the office, he instead drew. He had turned to a fresh page and begun to sketch his most elaborate revenge-scheme yet when a woman walked into his line of vision. There were four or five other women in the restaurant already (most of them employees), but this one stood out. This one would've stood out anywhere. Her hair, cut short and spiky, was dyed a magenta so bright it nearly glowed. She wore a tight black t-shirt, baggy olive drab shorts that hung on shapely hips, and heavy black boots with two inch thick soles. She had a faded black messenger bag slung across her chest, the strap pressing between her breasts. If Paul had to guess, she wasn't wearing a bra. She definitely wasn't your average Silicon Valley techie on an early lunch break, and certainly not a restaurant employee. Where did Paul go after the work meeting? - not enough information - Silicon Valley. - to draw. - A restaurant.
