can i just get a do-over, please?

hokay. so.

felt a little better after some time in bed. decided to venture out with mom to finish up my birthday shopping. went to anthropologie. my god that place is so intimidating. there were all these super skinny and super well-dressed girls there. meanwhile i'm feeling like a fucking whale and like a really crap dresser. so i managed to convince my mom to hightail it out of there. we wandered around a few other shops but i kept feeling like the salespeople were trying to figure out why someone like me would be in a store like theirs. and i'm not sure i could really give them a reason (by the way, since when the fuck is $160 a legitimate amount for a t-shirt? did i miss some memo? i thought there was some sort of a recession going on...).

then we went to j. crew and they had these super cute matchstick corduroy pants. now, i don't really know or get how to do the whole 26-27-28 inch whatever business. i'm lame. i buy my jeans from places like express where they just have 0-2-4 and so on. so i found a handy little conversion chart and tried on the 27 pair. they were a bit large in the waist! hurrah! but the 26 required me to do some weird little shimmy thing to get into them and then there may or may not have been a muffin top situation occurring so i didn't get either pair. but i wanted to fit into the 26 so badly. then somehow the topic turned to my sister and i told my mom how i felt like she was competing with me all the time. and my mom pretty much said "yeah, and isn't that a little pathetic?" and then i told her how she would make all those piggy comments and how shit it makes me feel and pretty much my mom said she's told her before not to do that. i've told her before not to do that. she just doesn't give a fuck.

so then tonight she goes to the gym then comes home and eats like maybe a quarter of a chicken breast and some string beans. meanwhile i'm having a tortilla with shrimp, lettuce, some avocado, and light sour cream. and i feel like a fucking hog while she nibbles daintily. i just wanted to scream. she likes to pretend like she's on my side and she's totally there for me while i struggle with this ED. but she just wants to be the skinny one. she'd probably love for me to gain about a hundred pounds.

well you know what, sister dear? you win. you fucking win.

i just went straight upstairs after dinner and threw it all up. but it doesn't matter. she's still going to win. she'll still be thinner than me. and she'll probably do yoga later. fuck.

i'm just doomed to be the fat sister.

sigh. i need to lose weight. fast. any suggestions? fasting isn't really an option for me since my mom tends to watch me like a hawk. and so does sister dear so she can point out when i'm not eating and force me to eat something.

fuck.

xoxo,
rubes

p.s. ana: i wish the scale were off but everyone in my family swears by my mom's. sigh.
p.p.s. xthinforever: haha no one has called me rubix cube in ages! loves it!
p.p.s. heebeejebus!: i LOVE your name! and i hope i can live up to the high standard of my name as set by your cat. it's a bit of pressure, yeah? ;-)