If one good deed in all my life I did I do repent it from my very soul.

Thanks "Secret Admirer", whoever you are. This is seriously the most awesome piece of clothing I now possess. Well, it's up there in the top 10 anyway.

I have discovered a new skill in my fruitless attempts at making myself vomit. I can swallow swords.


I was never able to make myself puke. And yet for some reason, I keep trying whenever I binge? Most I've ever been able to do is bring up some small mouthfuls of vomit.  I tried on Christmas Eve, but to no avail. I used to have one holy hellish mothertrucker of a gag reflex, but on xmas eve, I discovered that it is no more. And then I thought to myself, I bet I could swallow a sword, like they do in the circus. 


I can. It's awesome. Must work on this, as I think it is a skill worth honing to perfection. 

Mum got me a last-minute Christmas present that only just arrived in the post today:

It's a mini elliptical. If you work the foot pedals while seated on a chair (or on the edge of my mattress) it's also a mini exercise bike. This could be a bad idea, as I intend to use this thing every spare moment that I have available to me. I'm using it right now in fact, perched on the edge of my bed, with my laptop next to me. So far I've burned 300 calories. I plan on ellipticalling my little heart out until my sleeping pills kick in. 

What Mummy was thinking I shall never know.

Speaking of Mummy, this evening she accused me of being a doormat. She is oft heard making this accusation, usually when she broaches the subject of my father. 

We started this evening's conversation talking about my father. I haven't seen him for Christmas yet. The original plan was to go to his house on St. Stephen's Day to bring gifts for him, Step-mom, and Little Brothers #1 and #2, and also bring samples of all my desserts. But then it snowed. Like a lot. So I spoke to Daddie Dearest on the phone and we decided it would be best for me not to drive 1 hour north and then 1 hour home again in a blizzard, and we would speak later in the week to figure out when we would have our own slightly awkward version of Christmas (holidays and birthdays and pretty much everything with Dad are always awkward). This means that Dad will most likely forget to call (I am his least favorite of all his 5 children--there's a definite possibility that he "forgets" to call me back on purpose) and arrange Christmas, which means I shall have to call him again and again until I get an actual person on the phone, because they never call back when I leave messages. 

Mum criticized me for this behavior. She thinks I should just sever all ties with Dad because he's an a-hole and doesn't deserve me constantly trying to please him, bending over backwards to cater to his schedule, etc., etc. But the thing is, I am NOT trying to please him, or bending over backwards for him, or anything else. I would have no problem never speaking to him again. I DO, however, have a problem with never seeing or speaking to my brothers again. While they remain under the age of eighteen and/or still financially dependent on their parents, I must remain friendly with said parents in order to continue seeing said brothers. Once both Little Bros are out on their own, it will be a different story. But since Mum is not related to my Little Bros and therefore has no emotional ties to them, she cannot understand how I have emotional ties to them because Mum is a spoiled brat and entirely incapable of empathy in any shape or form. 

But yeah, that's just one example of why she thinks I'm a doormat. 

I am not a doormat. I am LAZY. There is a large difference. 

People are born with a certain temperament, and that temperament usually never changes from birth to death. It's your most basic nature. My most basic nature is cold, unfeeling, lazy, and hedonistic. I do things that will benefit me in the short and long term. Selfish? Bitchy? Mean-Spirited? Most definitely. But you can't help your nature. Believe me--I have tried. I am well aware that my nature is socially unacceptable. But at this point, I really don't give a crap. 

I guess maybe it looks like I'm catering to everyone because I get so lazy? I don't argue with Dad because it's easier not to. I don't question his fathering skills either, for the same reason. 

If a friend calls me up and tells me that he or she has decided on plans for the weekend, I will most likely go along with it unless I already have plans. I do not question. I can't be bothered. But certain friends and family members of mine know this, and I'm pretty sure they take advantage of it. But if I don't care one way or the other, I'm not going to challenge that friend or family member just because they think they're taking advantage of my laziness. I only do things if they will result feelings of enjoyment or contentment. Arguments do not have those results, so why bother?