Oh my god. You guys want me to fucking blog right now?
2 weeks until the wedding. I am officially insane; stalking package tracking and texting nonstop and not drinking but then DRINKING and then not drinking again.
If you need me, I am at Instagram and at Twitter and Tumblr and of course if you know me, Facebook. That’s how you get the dirt.
I’m trying this new thing where I just try to love myself and how I look and my body and try to not care about what I weigh. It’s very hard, but I’m getting there. I look like a motherfucking precious angel in my wedding dress just FYI.
I am so tired and busy right now. Excuse me while I fill some vases with foam and some fake grass shit. And please kill me.
Also Justin and I practice dancing all the time, even in the elevator, and when he spins me I want to have 20 of his babies, so this isn’t all bad.
I’m going wedding dress shopping next week. It’s really making me tap into every insecurity I have about myself. I’ve lost some weight and I certainly look different than I did a year ago, but it’s right after the holidays and I’m feeling more obese than ever.
Justin has been really awesome: joining me in a drinking ban, not bringing home any candy or ice cream, pushing me to go to the Y when he can tell I’m in the mood to skip it, and going on hour-long walks with me when we took an emergency trip to Indiana this weekend.
Seriously, this is why I didn’t want a wedding in the first place. I just wanted a party! How did this happen? Why the fuck can’t I wear what I want to my own party? Also: white? Let’s be real on both aesthetic and moral levels. Ugh, gross. Anyway, Wedding Dress Shopping, my feelings:
Not going to lie, I’m depressed as hell. It’s not getting any better even though I’ve been making an effort. The worst part is, I hurt my SI joints and I can’t run for a while. So the one thing keeping me sane is gone. I get home from work and I try to do something, anything, and I end up just crying.
I know there are worse feelings in life, there are people with chronic pain or totally sleep deprived/hormonal from a new baby or they can’t find a job or whatever, but depression doesn’t care about you people with your real stress and/or problems. I’m absolutely not suicidal or anything, so don’t freak out when I say this, but it just hurts to be alive.
It’s been so long since I posted that WordPress changed everything. I posted all these pictures at once and I don’t know how that happened. I don’t even know who I am anymore omg.
The Jersey Boys are coming! I’m picking up Frank from the airport today! This is how Frank and Steve make me and Jen feel:
All sources are a mystery except for Dr. Who gifs, from the awesome starsweptnight.
Remember that bridesmaid dress I ordered in a size too small? YUP, it fits. In fact, it’s almost a size too big.
I’ve lost 25 pounds so far this year, which isn’t a lot unless you realize how many times I get taken out to lunch at work. But people are noticing. Last weekend, Justin and I visited a few of our neighbors during City-Wide Open Studios, and we realized we live above a former Project Runway contestant.
“Oh, it’s Y Girl! We go to the same Y,” Michael D. said to me when he opened the door. “You’ve lost a lot of weight–looking good, girl! ” And then I died.
So needless to say, a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders (and stomach and thighs and ass) and I’m feeling pretty relieved today. And confident. And hungry. So if you’ll excuse me.
I’m declaring war on anyone who tries to give me crappy food or alcohol for the next few weeks. I mean, despite what I demonstrate 90% of the time, I do have willpower … but not when it comes at me from all angles, every single day. From meetings to celebrations to just escaping the heat, I can’t go anywhere without people shoving food in my face, and it’s too hot for me to work it off with two hours at the Y.
Y’all has pushed me to the limit. I will be saying no, with violence if necessary.
Do I want dessert?
What about Happy Hour?
Another lunch meeting?
Oooh, who brought kolaches to our brainstorming session?
So, it’s your birthday?
Oh, the frat boys are in town?
You bought how much ice cream at the store?
You baked this just for me?
What am I doing Saturday night?
Seriously, guys. Until it’s cool enough for me to rock 8 mile runs again, this nonstop food and booze wave is my enemy, and most likely so are you.
Jen and Ron had a super fun barbecue last night and I had a lot of fun, but this dude who used to pretend to like me was there. I haven’t cared about this for almost two years but for some reason every time he opened his mouth I was like … well, there’s probably a German word for what I was feeling, but no English ones. And so:
At the end of the night he complimented my fruit salad and I was all:
Usually when I see him I’m fine, so I don’t know what my deal was last night. Did I drink too much? Not enough? Anyway, ugh.
And now, a tiny moodboard for today: