Guess who ate like an edacious wolverine this weekend?

Yes, that's right: I did.


Friday sucked. Saturday was passable. And then last night I broke down and ate all the cereal in the house. 

http://www.wacky-packages.net/Cereal-Killers/

I was doing so well. What the eff happened?!? I'll tell you what happened.


Little Sis is sick (Mum says it's bronchitis, but it sounds like she's got the consumption the way she's coughing, so I've been trying not to go near her). And when Little Sis is sick/sad/anything-other-than-blissfully-happy, Mum must do all in her power to make Little Sis feel better. [I never received this treatment, so it perplexes me somewhat.] So last night, Mum told Little Sis she'd make her or buy her whatever the heck she wanted for dinner, and Little Sis demanded spinach and artichoke dip from a nearby restaurant. 


That was fine with me--I'd had only turkey bacon, coffee, and some Jell-O mousse and was saving my cals for a Lean Cuisine and perhaps a bit of ice cream afterwards. Plus, everything from that specific restaurant makes me incredibly ill, so I wouldn't really have been tempted anyway. 


But Step-dad goes through these weird mood swings where he tries to be Mr. Nice Guy in his futile attempts to get me on His Side. [The War of Mum and Men is a long one....]. Step-dad goes to pick up Little Sis's food, and comes back with a Cornish hen for me. Apparently it was on the specials, and he knows I like Cornish hens.


 I know that from the outside, this looks like a nice kind little gesture, but Step-dad not only KNOWS that I do not eat large meals, he also knows that all food from that restaurant makes me sick. So he gets me a whole bollocky Cornish hen, with carb-filled stuffing and veggies that are covered in grease. 


Thanks a lot.


To be polite (because my other set of parents [Dad and Step-mom] violently drilled manners into me at an early age) I took the dinner with a smile and decided to just pick at the chicken. Meat is safe, because it has little to no carbs. But did I succeed in just picking? OF COURSE NOT. I go into starved wolverine mode, and devour the entire box of food. 

That's furry, kind of freaky-lookin' animal wolverine, 
not the hot ultimate man Wolverine.

He wouldn't give me the time of day, because I'm FAT.




And then I had some ice cream. And some fiber bars. And then all the effing cereal in the house. 

Oh and guess what? Dinner made me sick. Not sick enough to vomit (lucky me!), just sick enough to have heartburn and stomach pain all night, so I could roll around my bed covered in a cold sweat until everything finally passed through my digestive system with all the subtlety of a hydrogen bomb. I emptied an entire bottle of Christmas-flavoured Febreeze into the befouled air of the bathroom, so now the whole upstairs reeks like holiday cheer. And I wish I had the willpower to starve myself to death. 


I'm not depressed or suicidal or anything. I'm just out of control, and I hate it. But today is Monday, and I WILL NOT lose control again. 


At least not until the weekend.


I'm also out of drugs again, so I'll have to exercise naturally. >:( Oh hang it all!!!



I like this:
 Anorexia mirabilis (or holy anorexia): (medieval Europe): severe restriction of food intake, associated with experience of religious devotion.


There's lots of other weird anxiety disorders I never knew about...

Grr

Morbid.Diathesis mentioned androgyny in her last post, and got me thinking about how much I love androgynous people. I've had a Tilda Swinton fixation ever since I saw Constantine. 

And I always enjoyed Brian Molko, the singer of Placebo...

-~-~-~-~-~-
HUGE binge last night. :*(  McDonald's chicken sammich, fries, and chocolate milkshake were involved, but thankfully my tummy decided to reject the combo of grease and dairy, and what didn't get puked back up is being purged via Ex-Lax. Even so, most of it still went through my digestive system. 


I need to come up with some kind of plan for the weekends. I'm thinking of maybe upping the calorie allowance to 1,000, just so I don't get out of control. One day of binging on weekends usually won't make me gain, but I tend to binge ALL weekend long, which makes me gain quite a bit. And then I feel disgusting. What do you gals do to stop binging on weekends? I need some ideas to test...


This is kind of random, but I took a short walk at like 6.00 this morning because my sinuses were ON FIRE from the central heating (word of advice--don't put shite up your nose; your sinuses will never be the same). One of my neighbours was walking her little snappy yappy lap dog on one of those leads that can extend if the dog keeps walking farther away. You can press a button to stop the lead from getting longer, but this lady was on her phone (who the heck is she calling at 6 AM??) and wasn't paying attention, so she let her Pomeranian or whatever the heck it was just wander across the street, straight towards Yours Truly. 


I don't like little dogs. They don't like me either. With the exception of my friend's 2 Daschunds, me and little dogs just don't get along. Perhaps they can sense the Evil in me better than their large canine brethren?


Whatever the reason, my neighbour's dog looks at me, starts barking and growling like a feckin' wild animal, and makes a beeline for my ankle.


Me, to neighbour: "OI!! Control that thing!!!!"


She looked at me like I had done something horrific. Like seriously? I love animals, but if that furry little spawn of hell tries to savage me, I will kick it. I know that probably makes me sound like a terrible person, but little dogs have sharp little teeth, and sharp little teeth can do a lot of damage. I have a scar on my calf to prove it.


Big dogs are much nicer. I'm definitely more of a Rottweiler/Doberman/Pitbull sort of person.   Pitbulls are my absolute favourite breed of puppies. My cousin has 3 of them, and I want to steal Athena:

 She's the sweetest dog EVER!!! I hate how people assume all pitbulls are horrible and vicious. Athena would never hurt anyone. She's amazing with children, and my cuz has 9 cats in the same house as her 3 pits. I'm actually pretty sure Athena thinks she's a cat. She likes to try and curl up on people's laps, even though she's kind of big for that...


As much as I think I would really like a dog, I'm not entirely sure I should have one. I have a dark gift when it comes to dogs. The mark of a well-trained dog is not just how well it obeys, but also how well it resists the influence of a pack leader other than it's master. Very very few doggies can resist my influence. I can make your dog nuts in under 10 seconds. There's this thing called a F.R.A.P. (frenetic random activity period)--when younger dogs just turn into total lunatics and run in circles. They're supposed to grow out of it. I can make almost any dog frap without much effort. I used to make Cousin's pits all crazy when she brought them over on weekends, but she has somehow managed to train them against me. >:(


I totally could have been a dog whisperer if I wasn't so deranged. :D