Fat fat fat
25 November 2007 at 5:00 pm

Thanksgiving was everything it should be. I cooked the entire meal in heels, to the complete delight of my roommates and their guests. Alcohol was consumed en masse, there were only two occasions of people locking themselves in their rooms to cry (Deanna and me). See, I worked Wednesday night, got home at 3am, and made a sweet potato pie with marshmallow meringue. I fell asleep at 7am and was awakened at 10am to make the lemon-sage turkey, the braised cipolline onions with balsamic-pomegranate vinaigrette, the mashed potatoes and parsnips, and the roasted sweet potato wedges. Yay, I can cook! Living with a gourmet chef for five years somehow rubbed off on me! Anyway, the very second all the food was done and set out, I crashed with such delirious panache, I'm actually kind of proud of it. I announced to the room that the food was ready and to not bother me for the rest of the night, slammed my door, threw myself onto the bed, turned up the new Babyshambles album as loud as I could stand it, and hysterically sobbed myself to sleep. Oh, it was fantastic.

When I got up and reheated a plate for myself, I found out that the food was pretty good, too.

I worked Friday, and thanks to my "social experiment" (wearing boob-centric shirts to see how it affects my tips--um, yeah, I make more money when the ladies are prominently displayed; shocking, I know), managed to get the number of v. cute boy Z and forced a crush confession out of a former coworker's best friend. So, you know, yay for me. It was a much needed confidence boost, since I've been working out like a crazy woman but am still feeling fat fat fat...because I am...fat fat fat. Just as reminder to myself to never let it get this bad again: I am 5'1" and 139 pounds. At my skinniest, when I stopped eating, I was 115. I went from a size zero and now I am barely a size six. I am overweight by any measure.

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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.