Tonight I’m supposed to go to my boyfriend’s, Bobby's, mother’s house. I like going over there. It’s in Eagle Rock, near my favorite Target. But tonight, I’m not so sure about going over. My boyfriend knows I have ice-cream issues and warned me that his mom has Breyer’s Cookies N’Cream in the freezer.
“I can’t go over there,” I told him. “Not until that ice-cream is gone. I’ll eat it all.”
Right now it’s up in the air about what we’re going to do tonight. I mean, if I go over there I will blow my diet. But it’s Friday night, right? And I want to see him and the ice-cream sounds good and he always drives over to my place.
Eagle Rock – Bobby's mom's house
Doing my laundry. Bobby is watching the Laker’s, I’m resisting what’s left of the ice-cream in the freezer. Feeling fat, bloated. Ate a cookies n’cream sundae and a cookies n’cream homemade milkshake. Needed to get out of the house so I wouldn’t eat anymore – made a trip to the Goodwill and bought a black, backless dress, a pair of Red-Hot jean shorts – Daisy Duke style – and an Anne Taylor pinstriped silk blouse.
Okay, the rest of the day I will eat nothing but rice-cakes.
Rice-cakes, yeah right.
Since then I've eaten a Chocolate Mint Zone Bar, a package of Swedish Fish, two thick slices of Monterey Jack cheese, four slices of processed ham, a cup of Neapolitan ice-cream, two dill pickles and a maraschino cherry. Now I am resisting the urge to walk to Trader Joe's and buy ginger snaps and white wine. Oh yeah, on my excursion out into the world earlier and away from food - I bought a straight iron at Target. Or is a flat iron? That's it, the end of this unkept rat's nest hair of mine. I will take the time and straighten it! I swear, I will. I'm tired of this unkept look.
How do you use a flat iron anyway?