soooo… i know i promised to write every day this week, but instead of writing tonight i went out and got hammered. but it wasn’t my fault! i only had two beers, but i haven’t really eaten in days. i am too broke to afford to buy food and, despite what one might think “moving back home” entails, it does not involve one single meal at my mother’s house. the woman does not buy food!
not that i deserve to eat. and i don’t mean that in the genuine anorexia way, i mean that in the holy fucking shit i am, like, 300 pounds way. i saw an ad on the… i don’t remember something educational channel… for this show with this guy on it who dresses up as different animals to fool them and joins them in the wild. the most recent installment is called “dangerous encounters: undercover hippo.”
a) hilarious.
b) perfectly describes my life from the time i lost a bunch of weight up until now.
the fact is, i will always be a hippo, no matter how much weight i ever lose. wait, to be clear, i mean hippo 
as in fatty, not as in highly aggressive, semi-aquatic mammal who kills more people in africa each year than any other animal. anyway, i definitely have this deep connection to being a fat girl. i think being fat has enriched my life in numerous ways and taught me many lessons, although often painful. the thing is, i don’t want to be as fat as i am right now. i am self-conscious all the time about my body, even around joe, who loves the way i look. i certainly wish i could learn to love myself no matter what, but i fear that may be a pipe dream, and i have not a pipe to smoke in, at this point.
which leads us to the future, my new project i have yet to give a clever name to. i fully intend upon publicly humiliating myself as much as possible, which should be fun for all of you guys, at the very least.
more to come. for now, goodnight!
good morning, i mean.
Things I learned from being a fat girl:
1) How to be funny
2) Most people are shallow douchebags
3) How to be bitter, cynical, and a serious misanthrope (related to realizing #2)
Also, even though I’m not fat anymore (at least by my standards) I still occasionally forget what I actually look like to other people–like I’ll be steeling myself for the fat girl jokes as I walk by some kids or something and then when they don’t make fun of me I’m like, “Oh yeah. I’m not fat anymore.” (I also have this irrational fear that people will mistake me for a boy, like they frequently did when I was younger.)
All in all, I’m glad that I grew up being fat. I definitely don’t think I would be the most excellent person I am today otherwise…