// the language of food (email to d.)
| 05/30/2003 - 10:21 p.m. |

Wanting to write, wanting to say something, but all I've got is this shit:

Ended up b/p-ing last night--fruity pebbles, milk, cookie dough...easy purge.
hoo.ray.

Didn't wake up today until 1:30pm.
Planned to straight 'fast'.

Ahhh, but the memory of an easy purge had the cookie dough ice cream caaalllling to me.
Ew. ew. YUCK. Long, tortuous, disgusting, but that shit was coming OUT goddamnit.
(J., with lovely timing, was IM-ing me through the hour or so. Was I there? Up for a movie? Conscious?...*ignore, ignore, ignore*...she finally gave up for the time being.)

I wanna go to sleep now. For the whole weekend (and then some) preferably.

Weird thing is when I left from seeing you yesterday, I'm pretty sure I felt relatively good about it...right now I can't even remember anything though.

I keep trying to and all I keep thinking of is saying I'd had noodles. wtf?? Oh yeah, cuz they weren't regular noodles. They were these japanese things called shirataki, or yam noodles, and there is like absolutely nothing in them, nutritionally or calorically. Dreamy.

Ugh
(is)
--me