Wild nights, danger ahead (long post)

The last days have been confusing. Great moments, with lots of fun, and then some melancholy.

And then the BAD.

Let’s start with the good.

I went out Wednesday night with the crew from work. Steve and I walked to the pub together, ordered two beers and just chilled waiting for the others. The weather is getting hotter and hotter: we’re having over 97F in the evening!! (37Celsius)

So we clicked our glasses and soon after I got up because I wanted to wash my hands, and of course colors started fading and I faltered. Steve grabbed me until I was stable again, and stared at me.

“If you are going to drink that beer, you’d better eat at least something, or you’ll end up drunk, embarrassing yourself in front of all the colleagues”

“… I guess you’re right”

So I ate (300Kcals) and I ended up drinking one beer and a half.

In the meanwhile, Alvaro, Mick, Robin and two others joined us, and Steve managed to drink 12 beers plus half of my second. Of course he ended up drunk, got loud and everything, but it was so funny! At 11-ish, Alvaro bended towards my ear and said “Steve’s drunk. And he’s been staring at your breasts over the last 15 minutes or so. If you prefer, I’ll drive you home when we go”

After the pub, we went to Steve and Robin’s place for a smoke. Well, before we got there, Steve (who by the time was veeeeeeery drunk) pushed me in a corner (firmly but gently) and started getting way too close to my lips. I didn’t want this to happen!! Not in front of the others!! But luckily Alvaro stepped in and pulled me away!! Later on he drove me home as promised: he’s such a gentleman!

Anyway, on the next day Steve emailed me early in the morning: Is there anything I should know about last night that I might not remember? S.

LMAO

When he got to work, he was in a bad shape, head aching and everything, but we spent most of the day together, at the desk or at the coffee machine and I told him stories about the night before and we had a blast! I really hope we’ll do something like that next week!

Let’s go on with the BAD.

We have a new intern. Of course, before she arrived, we checked her out on facebook. I immediately noticed her collar bones. The girl must have a BMI of 16 or so. Bad. Anyway, she got here yesterday. The first thing I noticed: she’s so skinny and beautiful. The second: she has a permanent tattoo, stating THE mantra: “Quod me nutrit me destruit”. The third: while I was staring at her tattoo, she was staring at my red bracelet. Fuck.

This can only lead to trouble. The last girl we hired is a skinny puppy who cries all the time and now thinks I’m her new girl-friend at work (which is bad enough). This new one? She won’t last. She isn’t strong enough to survive in this office, but the boys will bring her out with us and everything. As soon as work gets tough, she’ll start crying and spilling her secrets. And she may spill mine as well. I know, I should support her, but the truth is her presence scares me. Let’s hope I’m wrong.

In the meanwhile, I’m leaving for France for the weekend: Boyfriend and I are attending a wedding by a swimming pool. Food will consist of meat, so I shall be able to avoid bingeing (I’m veggos), and hopefully I’ll get a tan.

I was 121.3lbs this morning, and I hope to be the same on Monday!! BMI: 19.26. I want to see an 18.

I love you skinnies, your comments are the strongest motivation ever

PS I’ll start next week’s fast on Sunday afternoon. I think Ancora and Marcus will fast as well, will you guys? Anyone else joining?

I'm awake, but my world is half asleep

I. Can’t. Fucking. Sleep. Enough.

And, of course, this leads me to over eating. I know it’s no excuse. But it’s just like that.
Last night I went at Steve’s, where Alvaro and Mick were supposed to join us. I threw on jeans, a sexy top (long sleeve, bare back and shoulders), heels and a sweater for the way. I packed a bottle of booze in my bag and grabbed my bike. After more or less 3 meters, my neighbor dog jumped out of nowhere, I pulled the breaks, put down a heel, lost balance and, eventually fell. I managed not to break the bottle, but man, I landed hard on my right side.

I mean, who fall from their bike at almost 28?

Two guys passing by helped me and I was back on my bike in no time, and went over at Steve’s. Once there, we quickly got to the point (meaning booze and weed). Steve offered crisps, I declined feeling superior. Then Alvaro called saying he was stuck at work, and Mick got in soon after. Mick threw himself at the crisps, and of course, I quickly gave up and ate. Asshole, that’s what I am. At least, I really had a blust with the guys!

Anyway we had a great time, and I decided to go home around 11, because I needed to sleep. Once in my own bathroom, I proceeded to check the damage: my whole right side (leg, butt cheek and especially arm and shoulder) looks blue-ish. Back and neck muscles slightly aching. Right knee covered with bruises like a 5 years old. There you go, bikini look.

Now, I sleep on my right side. I may fall asleep on the left side, but I will soon turn on the right side. And that hurt like hell all night long. What’s worse, at 3.30AM, they started doing maintenance jobs in the street under my bedroom. Fuck. I probably slept a total of 2 hours, fragmented.

No wonder I felt like shit when I hit the gym this morning. But seriously, how could I skip the gym after that crisps binge?
127.6lbs this morning. Ugh. Plus bruises and swollen eyes. Not cute.

I can’t wait to ride my beauty tomorrow!

…I know I can stop the hunger if I will the other way.

Stats: 129.6lbs

Then I see you standing there in the mirror, wanting more from me, and all I can do is try.

I remember when I said goodbye to the way of life I thought I had designed for me. And I ran away. Can't do that anymore though.

I ate again yesterday.

The Boyfriend asked me to compute his BMI, last weekend. 26.4. He said (I’m quoting) “Who cares, I’m not fat anyway. It’s all muscles”.
No kidding, he believes that.

I’m going out with the guys tonight. Steve and Mick for sure, maybe Maryse, maybe Alvaro, we’ll see.
Getting drunk for sure.

As the YaYa sisters said: Smoke, drink and DON’T THINK

I love you girls. Your comments make me stronger. You are beautiful

I sit and type, as tears go by

I don’t know how much I weight. I woke up at the Parents’ place this morning, so I could not weight myself.
I did eat a bit too much on Saturday, but it was not catastrophic. On a positive note, I went running for 10km (6 miles) with Mother on Sunday.

I’m at work right now. Just went for a coffee with Steve and a bunch of other guys, Mick among them. Mick is the biggest mouth I ever know, and he makes fun of everyone, and I mostly find him funny. Sometimes he goes too far, but I just shut up: he only wants to make us laugh and no offense is intended.

Today he said I looked pregnant.

I was going to have espresso, no sugar. 0 kcal. All of a sudden, I thought I would not be able to drink it, and gave up. Mick and all the others know I want to drop some lbs (although they do not know to which extent, and they would freak out if they knew). They see me sticking to soup and apples every day at the canteen.
He said “You look pregnant. You got a pillow on your belly or what?” and moved on to other subjects.

I felt like crying.

Even worse, Alvaro (work mate I have a kind of crush for, not in terms of physical attraction, more in a “I want to spend the rest of my life and get old by your side” way) was standing there. He even gave Mick a bad look.

I felt tears in my eyes, and quickly looked away.

I looked at my belly, and all of a sudden I felt obese. I wanted to disappear. I looked up and Alvaro was looking at me sympathetically. I wanted to scream. I tried to catch Steve’s eye, to let him know I needed his support, but he was talking to somebody else, and I didn’t want the others to notice. I just stayed quiet, but I’m usually a loud girl, and one of the guys (someone I do not trust) kept asking me what was wrong for the next few minutes, until we walked back to our desks. I sat down, and still felt like crying.

I wanted to get to the rest rooms and cry, but there is no privacy there, so in a matter of minutes the whole office would know I’m crying. This is not an option. So I’m typing this instead.

In the end, it’s all my fault. I shall fast. I’ll fast until lunch tomorrow, and then it’ll only be salad without sauce. No soup. And I’ll hit the gym tomorrow morning. And I won’t binge anymore until no one will ever think I’m fat.