Hope you don't mind.

Zombie Sylvie, I drew a picture of you, from your prom picture. I kind of adore you, so, there's that. I guess that is strange... Sorry.

I have to weigh in, I have to have the number recorded by someone else. (I write it each and every day as I record my food and my water and my movements, I swear if I stay this way AND manage to live until I am old I will be one of those old crazy lady with a lot of fucked up journals for my people to go through when I die.) Anywho, I was weighing in weekly and now it's monthly anytime from the 1st and the 15th. They will be happy - I will be disgusted and the whole world will remain beautifully suspended in the universe, except not me. I will have that number in my mind burning and kicking and screaming. I hate it. I know it's bad - it was 143.4 today. Which is down .6 and I guess I should be happy because I fucking ate and had a loss, only, only all I can think is if I didn't eat I could have lost WAY more and I could feel that amazing feeling of being clean to the point of tears.

Today my food plan goes:
Coffee x 4 (40)
Flat bread (100)
Egg white (15)
Lettuce (8)
Tomato, half small (11)
Cheese (35)
NUTrition trail mix (150)
Tilapia, 4oz. (100)
Salad (30)
Poppyseed dressing (40)
Apple (58)
Clementine (35)
Frozen fruit smoothie (163)
Smartpop popcorn (100)

I should probably go ahead and add the popcorn (I did) as it seems I am week and I will eat something unless I get to bed ASAP in the evening. Motherfucker. I have also decided that I am just going to post once a day, you know all here - unless of course it's poetry, of which I have a bit coming...

Toby, my cat, just scratched my hand. It wasn't his fault, he is loco. There is this teeny drop of blood and I am amazed that something so beautifully colored can come from me.

Well, I fucking did it. I weighed the fuck in. I had my clothes on and a sweater and I stepped on and the sad faced little woman with her dry skin and dyed hair smiled so excitedly when she wrote the number. You can tell it's bad when they get happy. 143.8 - fml.

On the high? low? good? fucked? note my food plan changed, but stayed below 1,000. I even managed to have a small sliver of Carnival cake and not binge. I did do something I hate, but it was a) necessary and b) planned and so somehow it doesn't seem as bad as it could. I did the whole c/s, chew/spit, thing and I swear that is the last time I type that shit out - not the last time I do it, however. When I do that, which is rare, I don't swallow AT ALL - nothing. I do that so it gets nasty and I don't want to swallow and to avoid calories. As much as I hate that I have found the perfect food for c/s and I also know just how to go through the process so that I can control it and I satisfy the part of me that needs the binge. Maybe oneday when I want to show you what a flug I am I will go into details, for now I have to go to sleep - if I stay up any longer I will eat the rest of the cake. Motherfucker.