There's no way out. She'll only come in here and love you. And you don't want that.

The Universe really REALLY likes to mess with me. Today was one of the best yet, because it was something about which I can't really vent unless I employ some lengthy explanations. 

So here goes:

Among my favourite episodes of Millennium is "A Room With No View." (You can watch it here.) The circumstances that made "A Single Blade of Grass" my ultimate fav episode also contributed to "A Room With No View," but had the opposite effect--that episode freaks me the f**k out. 

Lucy Butler is the root of all evil. (I know I only put her at an 8 on my own scaleof evil, but I think the reasons for 9 and 10 are quite obvious.) In ARWNV, Lucy Butler kidnaps teenage boys, locks them in her house, and plays this song on a permanent loop. It never stops. That song plays throughout like 80% of the episode. 

I was in the liquor store today, and guess what song came on while I was attempting to pay for my Bailey's? 

wild guess

My brain function immediately dropped to just below zero. I didn't even know that was a real song. I thought it was composed and orchestrated by Lucy Butler herself, specifically for that episode of the show. 

Ugh. 

Ok so I know I said there was a hoarding post and a ridiculous post in the forecast, but I feel the need to talk about a topic that I think makes many of us anxious. We all know the ongoing struggle of Going Out To Eat. Nothing derails my attempts at normal food consumption/recovery quite as effectively as the knowledge, several days in advance, that I will have to Go Out To Eat. And try as I might, it never ends well.

 Like Einstein's opinion on insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. 

(I don't think that's insanity; actually I'm pretty sure that just means you're human.)

I do the same thing every time I know I'm going to Go Out To Eat:

Stage 1: The starve-a-thon. Up to five days before the Going Out - only liquids, 300 cals or less. All of it must be exercised off, just in case I need emergency food at nite to remain conscious in front of people. And there's a good chance I'll exercise enough to burn quite a few more calories than I've eaten, as a sort of preemptive strike against the emergency food that may or may not be eaten later. (Yes, I know that the obvious solution to remaining conscious would be to eat more and NOT exercise all of it off, but if I was capable of doing that I probably wouldn't have an eating disorder.)

Stage 2: The day of the Going Out - eat NOTHING before dinner. Tea and water only. Exercise as much as possible--take a walk on my lunch break, do the treadmill or jog outside for half an hour after work because I won't have to time to go to the gym, and spend every second of free time hiding in my room and using the mini elliptical.

Stage 3: The Going Out - Attempt to only pick at appetizers (we usually get apps for everyone to share, and it looks mighty suspicious if I don't touch any of them), don't drink too much, eat a salad with something that makes it look like a meal, NO DESSERT.

Stage 4: Drink too much (or get too drunk, because obviously I haven't eaten enough to balance out the alcohol intake). Get home. Panic.

Stage 5: The Purge - If I drank enough, I might be able to puke up whatever is left in my tumtum from dinner (that doesn't happen that often because I have no gag reflex and must therefore be pretty effing drunk in order to make myself sick). There's a 50/50 chance I will take laxatives. And there's 100% chance I will spend 2+ hours in the gym the following morning, exercising until I physically can't exercise any more. 

I think this could be the root of my binge-starve cycle. My family goes out to eat A LOT. But I do like going out to eat--once I'm there in the restaurant I do enjoy myself, and I like spending the time with family and/or friends. We usually go out on Friday nights, so I spend the days prior starving hardcore. Then Saturday I spend the entire morning at the gym. So by Sunday I usually feel like I've been hit by a truck. Starve-binge-purge-repeat.

This coming Friday, we're going out for Little Sis's 17th birthday. She wants to go to Mount Fuji, which is awesome and delicious and they actually have things that I can eat without feeling too guilty...

BUT their food makes me sick. Like really sick. Idk what it is, because other Japanese hibachi places don't make me sick like that. Last time I went to Mt Fuji I spent a good chunk of the evening doubled over with intense abdominal pain. After I was dropped home, I only managed to make it to the bottom of the stairs, and then I texted Little Sis to come drag me up to my room, stealth-like so Mum wouldn't see me. 

I couldn't even stand up, I was in such agony (and y'all know I do not like succumbing to pain or ailments of any kind). 

But it's Little Sis's bday, and thus her choice of where we eat, so I can deal. I can always just get retarded off mai-tais so I don't notice that I'm in pain later.

Off to the gym now, to burn off the 250 calories I've eaten so far today...

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