Bazinga?

OMGWTFwhimpering. Etcetera. Time for a pleasant evening of pain drugs and comedy. And doughnuts. And Greek yogurt and chocolate everything via Trader Joe's. And moringa tea. Dammit, I ran out of sea buckthorn tea.

Randomly throwing this out there, but what the hell. Does anyone feel like driving all the way to Gaithersburg to watch random science shows and science fiction shows and discuss the logic? I've got popcorn and ice cream. I'm not very social, but I enjoy deep-thought chatting about stuff, such as life and the universe and everything. I really want to make friends with a physicist.

Also, this made me burst into tears and it is amazing and awesome and fucking beautiful.

Bazinga?

OMGWTFwhimpering. Etcetera. Time for a pleasant evening of pain drugs and comedy. And doughnuts. And Greek yogurt and chocolate everything via Trader Joe's. And moringa tea. Dammit, I ran out of sea buckthorn tea.

Randomly throwing this out there, but what the hell. Does anyone feel like driving all the way to Gaithersburg to watch random science shows and science fiction shows and discuss the logic? I've got popcorn and ice cream. I'm not very social, but I enjoy deep-thought chatting about stuff, such as life and the universe and everything. I really want to make friends with a physicist.

Also, this made me burst into tears and it is amazing and awesome and fucking beautiful.

Bazinga?

OMGWTFwhimpering. Etcetera. Time for a pleasant evening of pain drugs and comedy. And doughnuts. And Greek yogurt and chocolate everything via Trader Joe's. And moringa tea. Dammit, I ran out of sea buckthorn tea.

Randomly throwing this out there, but what the hell. Does anyone feel like driving all the way to Gaithersburg to watch random science shows and science fiction shows and discuss the logic? I've got popcorn and ice cream. I'm not very social, but I enjoy deep-thought chatting about stuff, such as life and the universe and everything. I really want to make friends with a physicist.

Also, this made me burst into tears and it is amazing and awesome and fucking beautiful.

Bazinga?

OMGWTFwhimpering. Etcetera. Time for a pleasant evening of pain drugs and comedy. And doughnuts. And Greek yogurt and chocolate everything via Trader Joe's. And moringa tea. Dammit, I ran out of sea buckthorn tea.

Randomly throwing this out there, but what the hell. Does anyone feel like driving all the way to Gaithersburg to watch random science shows and science fiction shows and discuss the logic? I've got popcorn and ice cream. I'm not very social, but I enjoy deep-thought chatting about stuff, such as life and the universe and everything. I really want to make friends with a physicist.

Also, this made me burst into tears and it is amazing and awesome and fucking beautiful.

Beautiful You

Earlier today, I was clicking through photos on a celebrity site, and I saw a tiny actress in a bikini with a crazily tiny waist whose body looked almost exactly like mine back when I was anorexic and sick. At first I was like "Wow, I want that body back..." and then I was like "Girl, seriously? What's wrong with you? Don't do that!" and then I was like "...yeah, okay, not like that" and then I was like "I love myself yay! Exercise is awesome! All bodies are beautiful! Also I'm not in Hollywood yay!"
LOL at me.

I may want to lose twenty pounds, but that wouldn't really get me anywhere except slightly above one hundred pounds. That would be fine for someone of my height, but it's not about numbers on scales. They say you never truly escape an eating disorder. Vigilance is key. Healthy is good. I refuse to lose weight and inches just to fit into smaller clothes and nothing else, because then I would feel shallow and superficial. There is always more to it. Feeling happy about my body is number one. No whining just because I'm not as skinny as I used to be, especially for a four-ten woman with Sicilian genetics. I mean, really; I have hips and ass that aren't going away. I have learned to embrace them. Heh heh, embrace.

I just want to feel good for myself. When I was sick, I was delusional about feeling good, because I thought I was in control. After I began to recover and gain weight, I actually felt good for real, and that was a different sensation, more pure and sweet. I can't compare my body to anyone else's, especially not people who work in industries where part of the job includes planned hardcore exercise, planned hardcore nutrition, looking good for cameras, and piling on cosmetics so that the real naked face underneath is almost a different person. (redness! pimples! blackheads! wrinkles! dryness! puffiness! undereye circles! wrinkles! scars! more wrinkles! age spots! shattered fan dreams! nooo! how dare celebrities look like actual people! why god why!) /sarcasm detector exploding/

So I'm not as skinny as I want to be. I'll probably get there in time. I know what to do. Also, I admit it, I love chocolate junk food. But moderation, moderation, fucking moderation.

Beautiful You

Earlier today, I was clicking through photos on a celebrity site, and I saw a tiny actress in a bikini with a crazily tiny waist whose body looked almost exactly like mine back when I was anorexic and sick. At first I was like "Wow, I want that body back..." and then I was like "Girl, seriously? What's wrong with you? Don't do that!" and then I was like "...yeah, okay, not like that" and then I was like "I love myself yay! Exercise is awesome! All bodies are beautiful! Also I'm not in Hollywood yay!"
LOL at me.

I may want to lose twenty pounds, but that wouldn't really get me anywhere except slightly above one hundred pounds. That would be fine for someone of my height, but it's not about numbers on scales. They say you never truly escape an eating disorder. Vigilance is key. Healthy is good. I refuse to lose weight and inches just to fit into smaller clothes and nothing else, because then I would feel shallow and superficial. There is always more to it. Feeling happy about my body is number one. No whining just because I'm not as skinny as I used to be, especially for a four-ten woman with Sicilian genetics. I mean, really; I have hips and ass that aren't going away. I have learned to embrace them. Heh heh, embrace.

I just want to feel good for myself. When I was sick, I was delusional about feeling good, because I thought I was in control. After I began to recover and gain weight, I actually felt good for real, and that was a different sensation, more pure and sweet. I can't compare my body to anyone else's, especially not people who work in industries where part of the job includes planned hardcore exercise, planned hardcore nutrition, looking good for cameras, and piling on cosmetics so that the real naked face underneath is almost a different person. (redness! pimples! blackheads! wrinkles! dryness! puffiness! undereye circles! wrinkles! scars! more wrinkles! age spots! shattered fan dreams! nooo! how dare celebrities look like actual people! why god why!) /sarcasm detector exploding/

So I'm not as skinny as I want to be. I'll probably get there in time. I know what to do. Also, I admit it, I love chocolate junk food. But moderation, moderation, fucking moderation.

Beautiful You

Earlier today, I was clicking through photos on a celebrity site, and I saw a tiny actress in a bikini with a crazily tiny waist whose body looked almost exactly like mine back when I was anorexic and sick. At first I was like "Wow, I want that body back..." and then I was like "Girl, seriously? What's wrong with you? Don't do that!" and then I was like "...yeah, okay, not like that" and then I was like "I love myself yay! Exercise is awesome! All bodies are beautiful! Also I'm not in Hollywood yay!"
LOL at me.

I may want to lose twenty pounds, but that wouldn't really get me anywhere except slightly above one hundred pounds. That would be fine for someone of my height, but it's not about numbers on scales. They say you never truly escape an eating disorder. Vigilance is key. Healthy is good. I refuse to lose weight and inches just to fit into smaller clothes and nothing else, because then I would feel shallow and superficial. There is always more to it. Feeling happy about my body is number one. No whining just because I'm not as skinny as I used to be, especially for a four-ten woman with Sicilian genetics. I mean, really; I have hips and ass that aren't going away. I have learned to embrace them. Heh heh, embrace.

I just want to feel good for myself. When I was sick, I was delusional about feeling good, because I thought I was in control. After I began to recover and gain weight, I actually felt good for real, and that was a different sensation, more pure and sweet. I can't compare my body to anyone else's, especially not people who work in industries where part of the job includes planned hardcore exercise, planned hardcore nutrition, looking good for cameras, and piling on cosmetics so that the real naked face underneath is almost a different person. (redness! pimples! blackheads! wrinkles! dryness! puffiness! undereye circles! wrinkles! scars! more wrinkles! age spots! shattered fan dreams! nooo! how dare celebrities look like actual people! why god why!) /sarcasm detector exploding/

So I'm not as skinny as I want to be. I'll probably get there in time. I know what to do. Also, I admit it, I love chocolate junk food. But moderation, moderation, fucking moderation.

Beautiful You

Earlier today, I was clicking through photos on a celebrity site, and I saw a tiny actress in a bikini with a crazily tiny waist whose body looked almost exactly like mine back when I was anorexic and sick. At first I was like "Wow, I want that body back..." and then I was like "Girl, seriously? What's wrong with you? Don't do that!" and then I was like "...yeah, okay, not like that" and then I was like "I love myself yay! Exercise is awesome! All bodies are beautiful! Also I'm not in Hollywood yay!"
LOL at me.

I may want to lose twenty pounds, but that wouldn't really get me anywhere except slightly above one hundred pounds. That would be fine for someone of my height, but it's not about numbers on scales. They say you never truly escape an eating disorder. Vigilance is key. Healthy is good. I refuse to lose weight and inches just to fit into smaller clothes and nothing else, because then I would feel shallow and superficial. There is always more to it. Feeling happy about my body is number one. No whining just because I'm not as skinny as I used to be, especially for a four-ten woman with Sicilian genetics. I mean, really; I have hips and ass that aren't going away. I have learned to embrace them. Heh heh, embrace.

I just want to feel good for myself. When I was sick, I was delusional about feeling good, because I thought I was in control. After I began to recover and gain weight, I actually felt good for real, and that was a different sensation, more pure and sweet. I can't compare my body to anyone else's, especially not people who work in industries where part of the job includes planned hardcore exercise, planned hardcore nutrition, looking good for cameras, and piling on cosmetics so that the real naked face underneath is almost a different person. (redness! pimples! blackheads! wrinkles! dryness! puffiness! undereye circles! wrinkles! scars! more wrinkles! age spots! shattered fan dreams! nooo! how dare celebrities look like actual people! why god why!) /sarcasm detector exploding/

So I'm not as skinny as I want to be. I'll probably get there in time. I know what to do. Also, I admit it, I love chocolate junk food. But moderation, moderation, fucking moderation.