.: all night on the beach til the break of dawn :.
I got an email from my Mom today and she was just giving me some information on making sure I make my car payment, my cell phone bill, etc. because she always is afraid that I will not make them or something, even though I always make them. She ended the email with this:
" You have no idea how proud I am of you. I always worried what would happen to you if something were to happen to dad and I, but I know that you will be okay and can take care of yourself.
Love You.
Mom"
That made me really uneasy. I don't like the fact that she KNOWS I don't need to depend on them. I know I can make it on my own just fine, but I don't want my parents to think that; I don't want them to feel like I don't need them, because I really do. Not need financially per se, but I really need my Mom for things like calling her to complain about my crappy boyfriend, or calling her to tell her about my great day and knowing she will share in it. I need my Daddy around just to know that there is some man in my life that will always be there when it seems like there are no men that will ever love me, I know he will.
I have so many things surrounding me to stress me out right now; school, money, work, my sister, etc...but the one thing I can't get off my frickin mind is Miguel. How does that work exactly? Does this make sense? I can't seem to get rid of the asshole. Such is life.
Yesterday my roommates and I went swimsuit shopping for the Florida trip. I really hate swimsuit shopping. What kind of fun is it to tie yourself into tiny pieces of spandex that are overpriced, don't cover enough, and make you realize that you really shouldn't have had that donut for breakfast last week? Not my kind of fun, not at all.
My roommates insisted that I looked skinny while I was trying on suits, and I do know my roommates to be very bluntly honest, but still, when it comes to issues with weight and telling someone how they really look that is a different kind of honesty. I like the suit I got, although I don't like the fact that I spend $90 on less than half a yard of fabric. It's very plain, but I've never been big on flashy things, especially when that flashy thing attracts attention to my body considering I'm wearing next to nothing.
Today I should have cared more. I shouldn't have eaten carbs at all, but carbs give you energy, and I was so tired this morning. Yes, there is my awful excuse for eating a slice of pizza for lunch. (For some reason I still feel like I cheated my body, because, well, I cheated my body.)
My arms are so sore from lifting and working out. I've been trying to push my normal workout because I felt like I was at a standstill with it and I wasn't progressing, but now I just have to stand still, or all of my muscles will begin to hurt all over again. Damn it's hell to try and get skinny.
By the way, has anyone noticed that 99% of my journal entry titles are song lyrics? I just might have to start finishing my journal with either telling you what it is from, or finishing the lyric or something.
Today: Will Smith - Miami
" You have no idea how proud I am of you. I always worried what would happen to you if something were to happen to dad and I, but I know that you will be okay and can take care of yourself.
Love You.
Mom"
That made me really uneasy. I don't like the fact that she KNOWS I don't need to depend on them. I know I can make it on my own just fine, but I don't want my parents to think that; I don't want them to feel like I don't need them, because I really do. Not need financially per se, but I really need my Mom for things like calling her to complain about my crappy boyfriend, or calling her to tell her about my great day and knowing she will share in it. I need my Daddy around just to know that there is some man in my life that will always be there when it seems like there are no men that will ever love me, I know he will.
I have so many things surrounding me to stress me out right now; school, money, work, my sister, etc...but the one thing I can't get off my frickin mind is Miguel. How does that work exactly? Does this make sense? I can't seem to get rid of the asshole. Such is life.
Yesterday my roommates and I went swimsuit shopping for the Florida trip. I really hate swimsuit shopping. What kind of fun is it to tie yourself into tiny pieces of spandex that are overpriced, don't cover enough, and make you realize that you really shouldn't have had that donut for breakfast last week? Not my kind of fun, not at all.
My roommates insisted that I looked skinny while I was trying on suits, and I do know my roommates to be very bluntly honest, but still, when it comes to issues with weight and telling someone how they really look that is a different kind of honesty. I like the suit I got, although I don't like the fact that I spend $90 on less than half a yard of fabric. It's very plain, but I've never been big on flashy things, especially when that flashy thing attracts attention to my body considering I'm wearing next to nothing.
Today I should have cared more. I shouldn't have eaten carbs at all, but carbs give you energy, and I was so tired this morning. Yes, there is my awful excuse for eating a slice of pizza for lunch. (For some reason I still feel like I cheated my body, because, well, I cheated my body.)
My arms are so sore from lifting and working out. I've been trying to push my normal workout because I felt like I was at a standstill with it and I wasn't progressing, but now I just have to stand still, or all of my muscles will begin to hurt all over again. Damn it's hell to try and get skinny.
By the way, has anyone noticed that 99% of my journal entry titles are song lyrics? I just might have to start finishing my journal with either telling you what it is from, or finishing the lyric or something.
Today: Will Smith - Miami