I have been living off of chevre, lamb stew, wine, and breads for the past three days.  It’s gross.  I need to go on some kind of diet (story of my life).  I’m caught in this vicious web of left-overs from my gathering on Friday, but I think it’s time to throw away the remaining fromage and every unhealthy tid-bit in my kitchen.  What’s hilarious, is that when I binge, I don’t go to McDonalds or buy 5 packs of M&Ms… I buy expensive, fattening goat cheese and Trader Joes desserts.  I guess that’s not so weird after all.

Well as I sit here downing my last piece of pumpkin bread before I throw it all out I’m feeling REALLY disgusting…

PLAN:

No eating out this week (neither do I have the money or liberty with my pant size)
Resume morning work-outs at the Arc
Plan out this week’s menu in advance, buying each thing and packing it.
Water.

I’ll let you know how it goes.  Meanwhile, I have to clean out the cabinets.

Here we go

I’m packed and ready to go, just waiting for some cds to burn since I don’t have an ipod or an ipod plug for my car, and while I like Scott’s taste in music to a degree, I’m going to need a little bit of Judy Garland and Radiohead to get me through a 10 hour drive.

Today I called Scott at night and asked him what he was bringing. “Chile” he said…  (I waited for more, but there wasn’t anything….) Consequently, I’m worried about the food supplies. Scott said that he could live off of carrots and chile all week, but I have a feeling by day three my $20 supply of beef jerkey is going to look pretty amazing and while I know Burning Man is all about “peace, love and sharing” I don’t mess around with my food, especially in the middle of the desert.

Anyhow, I’m looking forward to this trip, despite the raised-eyebrows and looks of skepticism that practically everyone I know has been giving me this past month.  We celebrated my mom’s birthday today and my highly Republican Christian cousins just stared at me with this “she’s going to hell” look as I tried explaining Burning Man in PG terms.

See you all in a week, hopefully not in hell.

Startling realizations and not-so-startling realizations

I had a startling realization this morning that I look like a sloth… not symbolically but literally. My neck is sort of fading into my face right now and the mouth and eyes are oddly similar, aside from color. I’ve put on 5 pounds in a week from eating out at every meal, including two late-night trips to Bob’s Big Boy and I’m feeling rather ill from it all. I know it isn’t classy to talk about weight and I do it WAY too much, but I personally love those stars that always obsess about it and go up and down, mainly because they make me feel better about my lot. Scott told me the other day though, “Just eat tofu and carrots or stop complaining to me about it.” I don’t blame him– it’ definitely obsessive and annoying to listen to.

I’m tired of doing photography… I have a shoot Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday and I’m a little worn out from the whole ordeal. I use and quit hobbies like underwear. The shoot with Belinda went well though! I’m doing a “feminine” shoot and a “1940s” shoot this week, so I’m happy that I’m at least getting some diversity in.

Anyhow, in other news, my Nana is giving me all my birthday presents early as predicted… I feel like my birthday is a little like Hanukkah; I always get a gift per day leading up to the event. I set off for Burning Man in exactly one week from today which is terrifying. My mom scared me yesterday with porta-potty horror stories so I’m kind of worried. I need to get stuff done today though– I have a huge list of things I need to buy and accomplish before Sunday.

Scott drunk called me about 10 times and left me 3 messages on Friday night when I was out with Steven and his boo. I sent him two pretty emo texts at the end of the night about how he has people that care about him only because he sounded REALLY depressed and mentioned that he was drunk driving. The next day he called me for a 1 min. conversation in which he told me that my texts were too over-the-top and emotional, and how he didn’t remember calling me at all. I love how I’m the one who always feels like an ass.

In funnier news, my brother is vacationing in Sodona with my Dad & Co. this week, which is apparently turning out to be a disaster. The creek that he has been swimming in for the past week was shut down yesterday because E. Coli was found in it, and on top of that a dam broke near the Grand Canyon so they can’t make their final stop there… the E. Coli thing cracks me up especially, even though it’s “not funny.”

Leah left to Italy to meet up with Sleezy on other news so I won’t see her for a year. I wonder if she’ll have Italian babies someday…

I’m dreaming of cheesecake

This Cleanse is disgusting– I want to skewer my eyeballs out. I’m just going to compulsively weigh myself for motivation, even though what I really want to do is eat 2 dozen Italian cookies and all of my Nana’s lemon bar cheesecake stash.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

does anyone else think maggie needs some reconstructive surgery?

I hate to be mean because I love her acting; but after seeing her in “Dark Night” I couldn’t help wishing that Maggie’s face wasn’t so… saggy. She’s looking an awful lot like a St. Bernard these days.

Tomorrow I head out to the beach with my brother and his two friends. I don’t know how I got conned into being nanny Danielle, but it happened. Hopefully Leah comes so when I’m declared “uncool” by my brother and consequently ditched for the day, I won’t be sitting alone, frying on the beach for 8 hours.

I watched Bachelor and the Bobbysoxer yesterday with Nana and decided that it’s time to start watching more old movies. I’m never dissapointed with a classic film, and especially ones with Carrey Grant. That is this week’s new goal: to watch three old movies each week (along with losing 2 pounds.)

Speaking of blubber, weight loss is so laughably hard I could cry (or start a meth habit). I’ve been working out an hour a day and until today I had been eating well until I binged on three slices of bread with tuna and some chocolate chips. Story of my life. Tomorrow is NOT going to be a weigh-in day. The scale can screw itself.

Meanwhile, I’ve been working on my photography, trying to put together an ad campaign to gain more interest in headshots and the like. My goal is to set up an interesting looking Myspace (eventually a website), get thousands of friends, develop new flyers for the school-year and organize some more photoshoots. Here’s one ad I did… I’m still debating over the font.

Since Scott lost my iPod, my birtday present in September is bound to be a new one, though I’m thinking of manipulating my way into getting a new lens or some equipment. Sadly, photography is not a cheap hobby: the lens I want is $600, and so I’m thinking of having my family start a fund for holidays where all I receive is money for photography stuff….

Geez, I need to stop thinking about “stuff” so much. My life is becoming so shallow and Bravo-ized. I need direction, focus, a job, a respectable lover, cash flow, good grades, clear skin, better morale, motivation, self-pride, and of course, as my dad told me in a letter, “soul.”

I figure that will come with a new lens and flash gear.

serial killers & fudgescicles: random musings

No one cares if you lose 5lbs… not even 10. When you tell someone that you’ve “lost 10 lbs” they just sort of look at you, apologetically, thinking about all the times you’ve lost ten pounds. Even 20 pounds for me is ridiculously subtle because I’m an Amazon woman. Only other weight-obsessed people notice and are pissed off.

I had a great “photo shoot” with this gorgeous girl, Elaine from high school. I’m pleased with the outcome, even though the only people who commented on my Facebook album were Dr. Taylor and my mom… Edwin Serrano (the stereotypical short, angry kid who rides around on a scooter and relies on his artistic abilities to gain fame) complimented me on my lighting though, which must count for something. Now I KNOW I’m legit!

I dog-sat this weekend and came to the realization that I’m secretly afraid of animals. I mean, I love pets but there’s always an underlying fear that a dog is going to turn on me and bite my face off while I’m petting it. My mom is to blame for this, of course. I remember as a kid, having her scream at me while petting animals and freaking out. It’s now deeply embedded in my psyche like my fear of serial killers… (my mom used to tell me stories about the Night Stalker, Richard Ramirez who ripped out little old ladies’ eye balls when I was around 8. She claimed to have seen him outside her window and she told me that he killed people in yellow and blue houses… our house is bright blue.)

I had this CRAZY dream last night that I was a stand-up comedian, and I sucked. I also had a dream that I was grocery shopping in Russia with these two guys who were both madly in love with me. I was a midget in this last dream, and really, really hideous. (I watched this show on this midget who was getting married to the man of her dreams– maybe that’s why).

*section taken out* (secretive, eh?)

Jesus Christ, I need a fudgescicle.

You know what I hate?

Eggs. I’m so sick of eggs I want to vomit. This “healthy eating plan” (crash diet) I’ve adopted requires you to omit all: starches, fruit, sugars from your diet for the first two weeks, resulting in a vegetable-lean-protein orgy from hell. I’m looking forward to biting in an apple so much that I could pee my pants.

Don’t get me wrong… I LOVE losing weight– it’s one of my passions in life, though I rarely get to practice it since one of my even bigger passions is food. So, I’ll just suck it up and make another fri-ta-ta.

My family is hilariously awful at supporting me during these rare moments of motivation… my grandma is currently baking molasses cookies for example, approximately 6 batches of them. The ironic part is that two weeks ago, when I was at the height of my summer gluttony and Judge Judy marathons, I had asked her to bake some cookies and she said, “Why don’t you get off your ass and jog… you just don’t CARE about yourself anymore.”

Another great part is that suddenly, I’m becoming a financial burden to my family because I toss out 1/2 of my egg yolks and am eating vegetables. I tried making a very poignant analogy between cutting off the fat on a piece of meat to throwing out the fatty part of the egg, but Nana just slammed down the spatula and told me to “buy my own fucking egg yolks to throw away!” That and, “Diet food (vegetables) are so expensive! Why don’t you just not eat?” (My grandma allegedly lost 30lbs in the 70s from dexatrin and “only eating lettuce.”)

So here I am, unveganized, about to eat another serving of Jell-O and trying, unsuccessfully to stay off my family’s shit list. Though, I kind of got myself into a hole last night while defending my eating habits by commenting that both my Nana and Papa have pregnant bellies and could stand to lose a few too.

They were upset with this comment.