Oh it's like a disease, son.

Firstly, hey to new followers! I feel so popular. :D Almost like being back in high school, except in this case I promise I will not ditch any of you to go join the goth kids. (Although goth kids are more than welcome here.) I’ve noticed that a number of ye new followers are not from the realm of eating disorder blogs, so I hope you’re not put off by the more disordered posts. I must say you have all been very gracious in your comments on those posts, and I appreciate it. <3

Starving Artist wanted to hear Car Stories, and I am more than happy to oblige. Be warned—this will probably be a lengthy post. Everyone seems to have some good car stories, especially when it comes to one’s first car. I got my permit and my license within one month of each other, a few months after I turned 17. I never got the permit at 16 because I kept failing the written test, and by the time 17 rolled around I had sort of lost interest because I failed the written test again.

Now, at age 27, I drive a red Toyota Yaris (his name is the Virus Pimp), and it is spectacular. 

 A bit of history first: Back in 2001 when I got my license, Mum still had a pretty awesome job and thus could afford to have two cars—one for normal everyday driving, and one just for fun. Mum developed a thing for Jeeps in the 90’s, when she was still driving her superhot Jaguar XJS.

I loved that car, but its Issues really outweighed the hotness.

If you have ever been in or driven a car that was made in England prior to the 1990's, then you understand why she needed a second, more reliable vehicle.

The first Jeep worked. I think it was the 1996 Cherokee Sport. After Mum got rid of the Jaguar for the Mercedes SLK,

(that one was super fun)

 ... she traded the Jeep in for a 2000 Grand Cherokee Limited.

Honestly I’m surprised there aren’t more earthquakes in the eastern regions of this country, because the collected dead of the Cherokee Nation must all be doing somersaults in their graves.

We had Jeep1 when I got my license, and Mum said that since she had the Mercedes, I could have the Jeep. I was like sweeeeet, free car!! 

Don’t ever buy a Jeep unless it was manufactured prior to the year 2000. JUST DON'T DO IT. 

Jeep 1 had a number of alarming psychological problems, mainly centered around the supposedly high tech electrical system. Below the radio, there was a little display that showed a picture of the Jeep, and would tell you with blinking lights and beeps and junk if and when something was wrong with the car (like a low tire, a light out, etc.). According to Jeep1, the driver side brake light went out the second year we had the car and remained out for the duration of Jeep1’s life, despite the fact that—to the human eye—the light was working just fine. Some of the best mechanics in the tri-state area tried to fix this; all were left scratching their heads.

I will admit that the bulk of Jeep1’s issues may in fact have been my fault.

There’s this thing in New Jersey called Devil’s Tower. 

According to legend, if you drive backwards around it three times/six times (it changes depending on who’s telling the story), then Satan or zombies or cannibalistic witches or whatever will come out and eat you, or something like that. So DUH, I had to try it.

Although I did not see Satan, zombies, or witches, I think Satan may have possessed Jeep1. Because it was never quite the same after that night.

At least once a week, the display would inform me of a new problem. Like HEY YOU DRIVER, there’s a tire out! Wheels fell off! THE CAR IS ON FIRE!!! And I would pull over and panic and check the car and lo and behold, nothing was actually wrong. So I did what any sensible person would do and ignored it.

Then the thing with the passenger side window started. It would randomly go down by itself, but ONLY when I was alone in the car. This was also about the time that Jeep1 began to adamantly insist that the driver side brake light was out and it needed to be fixed IMMEDIATELY.

 Finally, after my first year in college, Mum decided that enough was enough--Jeep1 had to go. Prior to this, Mum did not believe any of my tales of woe regarding Jeep1. She insisted I was just being paranoid. OF COURSE the window isn't rolling down by itself--what nonsense! The car is possessed?! No, you're just cracked. But then one day, Jeep1 one had an epic seizure.

Mum, myself, and a friend were leaving the house--Mum to go shopping in her own car, friend and I probably to go get stoned--and Jeep1 totally lost it. I HAVE WITNESSES FOR THIS. I did not touch the panic button. I did not touch the Jeep. No one touched the Jeep; no one had even gone near it yet, as we were only just leaving the house. But the Jeep went completely spastic--the alarm was going, the wipers were going, the lights were flashing, the windows were going up and down, and I'm fairly certain that Satan was about to come exploding out of the engine at any moment. 

We couldn't get it to stop. Eventually it stopped on its own, but I sure as hell wasn't getting in it after its psychotic episode. Mum sold it pretty soon after that, and we never returned the many phone calls we received from the new owners, who sounded more and more frantic in each voice message they left us.

In what can only be described as an act of total insanity, Mum purchased Jeep2. 

(Mine didn't have the grey bit along the bottom; it was all blue.)

I have a headache already. Shall continue this in another post!

<3

Shake a leg Junior! Thank God your mammy died givin' birth. If she'd have seen you, she'd have died o' shame.

Clytie is a genius. Inspired by her blog post, I made this:

That's a Van's low-cal waffle (70 calories), 2 small spoonfuls of Edy's slow-churned caramel delight ice cream (40ish cals), and just a little sugar free maple syrup (it's 15 cals per 1/4 cup and I think I barely used a tbsp, so I guess it's like 4 calories?). 

A nice size Belgian waffle sundae for a grand total of 114 calories. 

But I shouldn't even be eating that. I've zeppelined right back up to 108 lbs (BMI 20.4) and I feel anxious and cold-sweat-ish whenever I have to go out where people can see me. Such as leaving my bedroom and being seen by Mum or Little Sis on the way to the bathroom. I've been wearing hardly anything but oversized sweaters and sweatpants to cover up the largeness. 

This is my reward for my attempts at Recovery. I haven't BINGE binged in a loooooong time. As in the fill-my-pockets-with-as-much-junk-food-as-I-can-manage-and-hide-in-my-bedroom-stuffing-my-face-in-the-middle-of-the-night kind of bingeing. I haven't done that in WEEKS. For the most part, I've eaten below what a normal person should eat. And somehow I have managed to gain roughly 8 lbs since the beginning of the summer. 

No matter what I do--eat normal, restrict, fast, starve, workout--I'm still gaining weight. Every week I go to weigh myself and no matter whether it's been a bad week or a good week food and exercise-wise, I'm still gaining weight. 

I AM GOING TO HAVE A MOTHERTRUCKING NERVOUS BREAKDOWN. Seriously. This makes me want to do very bad things for which I do not have money. 

>:(

My printer at work is accosting me. 

Y'all are familiar with my issues with electronics and conspiracy-theory-paranoia by now. Sometimes I wonder if maybe I'm unknowingly part of some secret government experiment. (I've been watching a lot of the X Files, if you can't tell--I got seasons 6 and 7 on DVD for like $15 each. :D)

Either yes, the government is experimenting on me; I generate lots of radiation naturally; or my office is haunted. 

Specifically, my printer is haunted, and it's only haunted when I'm alone in the office. 

Look at it there, being Evil while my back is turned.

I'll just be sitting there, going about my daily business, the printer only doing things and making noise when I print stuff. 

And then, usually in the middle of a brief lull in the office work, the printer will yell at me. 

It kind of reminds me of my old car (the 2000 Jeep Grand Spastic Limited)--I'd be driving along, all alone in the car, and the passenger window would just go down all by itself. (And that was just the beginning of that car's Madness...)

The bathroom in my old house did something similar as well. Mum and I got to talking about that this weekend, actually. We moved out of that house in 2001, and I still miss it. 

The downstairs bathroom had a vent in the ceiling that would scream at you when you turned the light on. It was customary for those of us who were familiar with this to send ignorant visitors into that bathroom and wait outside to hear their horrified reactions. The vent did not automatically scream at you when the light went on--sometimes it would start shrieking immediately, sometimes it wouldn't scream at all. The best ever was when the vent would wait before it started screaming, giving the person in the bathroom time to sit down on the loo and relax before being frightened out of their wits. 

I've been trawling around youtube for like an hour trying to find something that sounds similar to the screaming bathroom vent, but there's nothing. It kind of a little bit sounds like the noise you hear in this vid, when you let the mouse hover over the "play" button.

Only in the bathroom it was more drawn out. 

Watch that video. If you don't find the letter in place of "H" to be funny, I question your sense of humour. 

<3