Saturday, February 13, 2010


I had a god-awful play practice today.
I love my part. I love my play. And I love my directors.

But when I had to dance with my stage-husband, and he had to put his hands all on my hips and stomach?

I wanted to cry.

I know you all don't know this, because I haven't put up any pictures (yet, I will once there's some progress. Ick), but I have a protruding stomach as well as some large love handles.
I know, I know, the skinny girls say that all the time. I have a 98 pound friend who complains about love handles.
But at 168 pounds (SIX FUCKING POUNDS HEAVIER THAN TWO WEEKS AGO), I have some serious flabbage.


Fuck why am I always such a mess?
Tomorrow I start my seven day fast (I had to shorten it, because my mom comes home on Friday). First two are liquid, middle three are 0 calorie and last two are liquid.

Dear God,
Please help me accomplish my goals. Make me stronger than the food that tortures me. Help me attain perfection, or at least get a little bit closer to it in this coming week. Help make it easier to go and actually exercise, while keeping to my fast. Thank you for all the good people in my life who make everything worthwhile.
Sorry you've had to deal with me for seventeen whole years. :]
Charlotte Rose

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