Officially, I am Magical.

I'm pretty sure I thought something in my head, and then it came true.

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So, I had a pretty good weekend...

• TR and I worked out some relationship things (though we had a major argument today, but it was resolved: BTW I'm starting a new thing called "don't fucking talk about my relationship with people anymore because it makes you look crazy and unstable and a bad girlfriend" ... except this doesn't apply to you all, because you, dear readers need to know everything, so help me stick to it!!).
  
• I lost 2 more pounds since Friday, even though I've been eating terribly.
  
• Apparently my grad school wants to throw £5,000 pounds at me ($8,460) so, that's good news? lol. I'm not used to good things.

Except today has been shitty. So I'm on the train back home, and I'm reading my London travel guide (dork dork dork!), reading the little history bit. It comes to the "Great Plague" that kills 100,000 Londoners in the 1600s... and me being in the bad mood and a big fat bitch start thinking:

"Wouldn't it be lovely if some kind of pandemic happened that affected most of the people on this train, and in the area... people dropping like flies around me? Of course, *me* being blessed with so much mental and physical shit by God, Satan, Fate, or Darwin would be pardoned from getting sick.

"I would just be one of those people who would have to stand by idly watching everyone die, and blog about it. Writing history. Women and children would take me in as I wander the streets with my laptop and try to feed me broth, but I would tell them that I couldn't eat when I knew that there was so much suffering. And no one would bat an eye, or ask me 'Is that all you're going to eat?' (PS. fuck you waitress at Denny's)."

Yeah, that was my 30 second fantasy, on the train, fleeting and brief and totally fucked up. I know. But that's just me. I also flirted with the idea of jumping in front of the train like an hour before that, then I told myself that I couldn't because I didn't want the 4 year old on the platform to have to witness and deal with that kind of shit forever.

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So really, try and spend a night in this head of mine. I like to think that the soundtrack inside my head is like ladies playing saws with violin bows, and crying blood. They're probably underwater and there are marionettes dancing and fish swimming in circles.

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But the point of this story is I call my mother to tell her I'm on the train, and what does she tell me? Uh, my oldest sister has some kind of superbug, like Outbreak type thing that we thought was a bug bite that paralyzed her whole head after 24h and she had to be rushed to some specialized hospital. She had surgery and has a fucking hole in her head now with shit sticking in and out of it and it's been described to me as "half of Princess Leia's head." They don't know what's maybe or maybe not killing her. She's in an isolation clean room and you have to wear like an astronaut hazmat suit to go inside....

Basically it's an episode of House without the predictable plot and zanny cast of characters.

Oh, and this morning the same thing happened to her son, so it's apparently contagious and maybe it's a pandemic! They have to swab like everywhere and everyone she's contacted. I'm so fucking psychic.

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Don't feel sorry for my sister though or for my family. My older sister is a horrible person. I don't need to get into details because it's long, confusing, and complicated. I'll just give you tag words so you understand and you don't think I'm a total bitch for being a wizard and giving her ebola or something: drugs, prostitution, child neglect, crazy, child abuse, drugs, crazy again, and she hates my whole family.

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Uh, so yeah. I'm magical. Ask me to think of something you want to come true. I'm trying to think that loads of kittens get adopted or something to even out my karma, but if you think of something better let me know... my mind is pretty uh twisted. It keeps going back to ripping the heads off build-a-bears!

P.S. But the loss of 2 pounds must mean that Jesus still loves me, yes?

I will follow yooooou

... that's a song btw. Rick Nelson, apparently. But now that I've said that, it ruins the cultural reference like having to explain a joke. Augh, never mind.

Anyway, I'm trying to re-boot all of my blog following manager since I realized it's stupid to try and read blogs without actually following them and try and remember how to get back to them and comment sporadically (which if I've been doing that to you, that's what I've been doing p.s.!).

So I'm trying to get to people, but if I don't get to you and you read my blog or you stumble upon this or you don't read my blog but you want me to read yours or just what-the-fuck-ever, leave a little comment routing me to your blog, and I'll gladly follow. I NEED to follow loads more guys and dolls (Ah another cultural reference, a musical! Ugh, ruined it again) and put more time into the blogging community again.

So, gimme a poke or holler. Seriously, I start this task of finding and following and then I get distracted and watch "My Super Sweet 16th" or "Ruby" on Style Network--the later of which will most definitely get her own dedicated post, wait and see.

Me Touting More Non-Science

OK. I think I have more proof that me not eating is good for me.

For the first time in probably ALL my life, I haven't gotten the flossing, plaque, or tut-tut lectures at the dentist office at my 6-month cleaning.

What's happened? I should be so proud of myself for taking such good care of my teeth, they think. My parents brought me up right.

Bullshit. This bitch is still the lazy bastard who gags when she flosses (but still can't manage to purge, hence hasn't ruined her mouth) and therefore skips it, and only brushes in the morning because frankly, she can't remember to keep up a nightly regime.

So what has got to be the difference? Why is my dentist so happy with me? Probably because I drink a shitload of water, basically zero sugar enters my mouth (my mother always told me that fruit snacks would ruin my teeth), and I stay away from food when I can.

If I don't eat, but I drink water, and brush my teeth.... wouldn't I naturally be better off than someone who eats more??

Don't contradict me. I don't want to hear it. I'm super happy that I left the dentist with a smile on my face, and a mouth full of no-pain.

Take THAT FDA, ADA, and whatever other big acronyms I should be shouting at for telling me how to live.

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ROAR.

Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here

Here I am, sneaking on my blog since I no longer have any privacy...

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After commenting on some posts, I realized my "reader" thingy was quite sparse and I was getting the same bloggers updating.

I then had to do something that I've been avoiding. Clean out my blog following manager.

A lot of girls, who were my foundation when I started, stopped blogging suddenly over the past 2-3 months... some of them I think maybe started eating normally (yay), some perhaps just became tired of blogging and quit, and then there were one or two that lingered in my mind.

I was worried about those ones.

I've had a hard time *un-following* some people. Well, most people. I like to think that one day, everyone will pop back up after 4 months and have a lovely blog explaining their haitus, and my blogging community routine will be back to normal. But I especially hate to un-follow those few girls that just dissapear when they were the ones you were already anxious about.

So... it's been emotional.

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This has led me to thinking about another thing I've been pushing to the back of my mind. How healthy is my blogging? I've always been a hardcore advocate for "pro ana" sites etc etc (though I'm not particularly fond of the term) and I still am, but is it good for me? I always thought it was, or at least harmless.

But sometimes I almost consciously think to myself, "I can't recover, because if I recover, then I can't blog, and I care so much about my girls and readers..."

The other week, I was feeling particularly suicidal. I asked TR to do something very important for me, the only important thing I would ever ask him to do. He wearily agreed and I told him that if I were to die, I would make arrangements for him to access my blog so he could write a blog post for me, because I don't want anyone to keep me on their readers list, hoping I might return someday.

JESUS CHRIST I AM FUCKED UP.

If you all stop following me now, I completely understand. But, I suppose, in a way, this whole pro-ana thing is just as addictive and insidious as my resistance to food and gaining weight. There's no support for me in a cruel world where mothers, friends, and companions say things ranging from "You could stand to gain a few pounds" to "It looks like your body is eating all your muscles because you're running out of fat... you look sallow and withered." Of course we would want to turn to a world of non-judgemental, anonymous, virtual friends who support us but sadly cannot be there for us, and therefore we never have to feel abandoned or let down by them.

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Truly, at this point in time, I don't know how to live moderately. A good day for me... is spreading my fingers wide apart to see how concave the skin beneath the tendon attached to my thumb is (seriously, that's one of my fat markers). A good day for me... is checking my secret gmail and finding new comments from people that I wish I knew in real life, though who knows if we would actually get along in any other setting. A good day for me... is thoughts running in my mind all day, planning, calculating, finding an escape route.

A good day for me is getting through the day.

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You all really do keep me going, almost all the time, and I'm so glad to have each of you in my alternate reality.

Time to stop mourning the the end of my core community, and start re-building a new one.

Insane me!?

Vegan Diet has been going well for me.

Everyone else wants to strangle my ever shrinking neck.

...screw.them...

Every once in awhile something sneaks in that I am not aware of, but I haven't eaten straight dairy in lord knows when and ask me if I'm pleased about it. No, don't, because you should already know the answer.

My mother is still crying, and I had a conversation with TR last night about him starting to look a bit rolly polly like the Police Officer on Heroes and he made some quippy comment about me gaining weight, but it's all water under the bridge.

No comment can quite affect you when you realize you can't even wear your blue jean skirts anymore without a rather large safety pin.

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Secretly, dear readers, I do hate it. I know you all do, I wish I could just eat without loathing every bite, without cramping up, and without pinching at bits of my arms, tummy, and legs hoping I can cut every inch off and give it to someone who needs it more than me...

But I can't tell anyone, because then I have a problem. I don't have a problem, because I'm not thin enough.
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Haven't updated in a bit because I was at Comic Con last week. That's right, I totally geeked it out. But I like to do it mainly because, I always end up running into celebrities, and I feel prettier than the average person there (believe me, you would too if you ever went and wore something moderately skimpy or eye catching).

So, I'm going to do something unprecedented on this site...

You've all been quite patient, so I'll reveal a bit of myself to you.

I'm sorry if I dissapoint anyone who has been picturing me otherwise, but this is me. You may continue to visualize me however you wish!

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Cheers,
Savory

P.S. Celebrity run-in tally to make me feel better. Seth Green (again... kind of getting annoying), the entire cast of "Big Bang Theory," John Lithgow (3rd Rock from the Sun), Joss Whedon (Buffy/Dollhouse creator), Michael C. Hall (Six Feet Under/Dexter), Doc Hammer (Outstanding oil painter/Venture Brothers co-creator... makes me a nervous puddle of awe; he's beatiful), Matt Groening (Simpsons/Futurama Creator), other people that I wasn't impressed by to remember their names lol.

All Quiet?

No news to report.

Unless you want to count the fact that I've pretty much bruised my throat from the inside because I was desperate for a purge (which you should all know I'm terrible at, and like most of you, I loathe being terrible at things) in a public restroom and knowingly stupidly shoved a spoon down my insides.

Purge may or may not have been useful as I was later forced to eat a cheese quesadilla, which was far worse than the vegetable soup... but I "accidentally" left my smoothie on the sidewalk so that was "wasted."

I guess it might also be noteworthy to mention I found my old allergy reports when I was going through my medical records to apply for long term private health insurance (ah!), and I am allergic to a SHIT TON OF FOOD. Bananas, eggs, strawberries, almonds, shrimp, wheat, soy beans, other mundane things that I can't remember... anyway, this gives me a great excuse to go back to Vegan (because I'm lactose intolerant as well) without everyone getting on my case, and I've gone without cheese and yogurt and bread for so long and not missed it that it might not be hard this time.

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Food is the enemy, trying to rip us apart from the inside out. Resist it. We will fight food in the market place, in the streets, and in the cities.

We will fight food until the struggle against food is won.


P.S. It's 5:30AM here and I still haven't gone to sleep. I think it's because I found my Hoodia again (!!!) and popped some at about 10:00PM. oops. Worth it though.

Quotables

I once had a conversation with a dear ED friend about how much we are able to mask ourselves in a cloak of illusion, people walk by thinking we're the good students, the best friend, the one that has it all together. It isn't until they start to see our bony arms and sallow faces that something is amiss. It is us, the EDs who can see the lies, hypocrisy and sorrow that leaks out in everyone else around us.

Why doesn't anyone see our pain until it is literally shoved in their face like our worst of worst binges?

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For the record, I submit my "Facebook Quotations" I have listed for several years on my public profile that are seemingly out of character, but have also never garnered a single raising of the eyebrow.
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"If a man does not keep step with his companion, perhaps he hears the beat of a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away."

"I always tell the girls, never take it seriously, if ya never take it seriously, ya never get hurt, ya never get hurt, ya always have fun, and if you ever get lonely, just go to the record store and visit your friends."

"I am flawed if I'm not free."

"Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing."

“I start to feel like I can’t maintain the facade any longer, that I may just start to show through. And I wish I knew what was wrong. Maybe something about how stupid my whole life is. I don’t know. Why does the rest of the world put up with the hypocrisy, the need to put a happy face on sorrow, the need to keep on keeping on?... I don’t know the answer, I know only that I can’t. I don't want any more vicissitudes, I don't want any more of this try, try again stuff. I just want out. I’ve had it. I am so tired. I am twenty and I am already exhausted.”