Jen Lancaster, if I were a man I would MAKE you cheat on a man named Fletch

Today's blog, not that I am EVER regular with my blogs to call it a "daily" thing.



A letter to Mrs. Jen Lancaster (who I wish I were... was... am...*fuck tense!*)



Dear Jen,



I am so informal due to the fact that I, like all of your readers, feel that I am entitled to be your friend. You have opened your life to us. You have opened your feelings to us, you have opened your smart assed, pearl wearing self to us, and I salute you. As if you have never heard that before.

Upon putting away a stack of books at work, I happened upon Bright Lights, Big Ass. I read a bit, then bought Bitter in the New Black. Fell in love, then read Bright Lights fully. Then googled, and realized that a DAY EARLIER you had relased Such A Pretty Fat. I don't know how to tell you that I am so enamored by your writing that I want to (like a three year old) emulate all that you are.

You inspire me, you make me want to believe in myself, you are everything that I am and everything that I am not.



I wish this were longer and more articulate, but, in the long run, know that you have impacted more than one life (and ass...) and that if you ran, I would vote for you for the President of the United States. ((I am all for hillary and the whole woman thing, but she seems like a bitch for no reason. Jen, you are a bitch for all the reasons I love. I would vote for YOUR bitch ass!))



Love, always (don't care how high school that sounds)

Amanda



PS: I know you need the house, but if you don't keep writing, I will vote for someone who will make you.

Long long ago, I blogged...

I have been busy... to say the least. With my work, I work all the time (tiny ass shifts) and then I have been so busy with home stuff too! It is crazy!

Tuesday was my 21st birthday. My husband took me out around town and had lots of little things planned it was great. And then the day after, I went to this bar that was about two blocks from my house. (Husband is not 21 yet, so I felt bad for going to a bar without him) But this place is a sports bar/restaurant, and they were pretty lenient. So I, having already had three white russians at home, was already pretty sloshed. I told the guy the story about my birthday, and he ended up being so great! He got me even more wasted and was the nicest guy ever. So, on the walk home (which I do not remember, because I was blackout drunk, which I have never been) I did not wear shoes (now my feet have blisters). I also decided (a block from my house) that the grass looked more comfortable, and proceeded to lay down. My husband had to go get the car and drive me home. Then, I threw up... a lot... in the bathtub. Way to go me. I woke up the next morning and went into the bathroom and thought "who was the dumb fuck that threw up in the tub". And then found out it was me. It was not fun to clean....

Anyway, there is not much else to say. I have come to realize that my life is generally uneventful. Especially since, compared to ten people last year, only one person other than family called me on my birthday, and one person text messaged. Three people left me a message on facebook, but they all live together, and I havent seen them since high school. The people I considered my best friends didnt even remember (or bother with the messages on facebook and myspace that say who's birthday is coming up). I guess there is nothing to be done about that.

Oh! And when I was hungover the next morning (feeling like a zombie), my husband went out to buy me a plunger to clean up my mess with, and he came back with balloons! Pretty green balloons. He said they were to make me feel better ! :D So cute! I love balloons.

Unattainable

I am not sure what to do with myself anymore. I know I need to kick it in the ass. And it is not like my ass is by any means a small target. I need to get up and go to the damned gym or SOMETHING. I just can't find the motivation. It is not really the motivation that is my problem, because trust me, I have plenty to motivate me. About seventy pounds of plenty. But I can not find the will power or energy. We got a wii the other day, and I know it is kind of pathetic, but the boxing game that came with it (it actually came with a sports package) kicks my butt! I did the training on it (which I can not figure out how to aim) and I was sore afterwards! I do not know if that says something for the wii itself, getting people off their bums, or if it says something for how out of shape I am. I think I will play again for a little today. I just want to look pretty. Super fat, very poor posture, crappy hairdo. I need a fucking extreme makeover or something. What I wouldnt give for a trainer. A trainer that MADE me work out. A trainer and a personal chef. If I was rich I might be able to do this.

I want more than anything to not hate myself. There is nothing I do where I can forget what I look like. Shopping: one of the worst, whether it is for clothes or groceries, it doesnt matter. Clothes, that one is obvious. Groceries, I eat so well and get all the veggies and stuff, and then there will be ONE pre-packaged not good for me food on the conveyor belt, and I feel like everyone is staring at me with distain. One candy bar at work, and I feel like people roll their eyes and say 'no wonder'. Driving in the car, I feel ugly and fat. Sitting on the couch, walking around town, walking (or anything) at work, having a drink, laying down to go to sleep, taking a shower, hugging my husband, being intimate with him, going up the stairs to my apartment, going to the gym, doing my makeup, talking on the phone, shoe shopping, the list goes on and on. There is rarely any moment in any day that I do not have a constant reminder of self loathing talk going through my head. I can not escape how terrible and ugly I feel. And how even if I lose twenty pounds, I will still be huge. Even thirty, fourty pounds. How can I escape that?! I hear stories of women who lose hundreds of pounds and I can not understand how they did it. I try so hard.

I try so hard.