Well, I had my hair appointment today.Remember how I said I wanted it "red like a fire engine", "red like a maraschino cherry", and "red like a volcano spewing with hot lava"?
It's even redder.
And damnit, I love it. I am feeling like one sexy bitch. Don't you dare try and burst my ego ... this is my moment. I'm almost never happy about my appearance. Leave me to lust for myself just this once, will you?
Not only is it RED, but it's short. It was about down to my shoulders, and now I've got this chin-length layered thing going on. And it looks really good. Alternative-trendy, but good. What the hell was I doing with all that bloody hair? I'll never miss it. No way.
I needed this change very badly indeed.
Another change in my appearance has occurred ... and this one involves my body. I'm losing so much fucking weight, it's almost scary. I haven't been trying to do it either. I just haven't had much of an appetite. I think my stomach's actually shrinking, because now I'll eat like 3 or 4 bites of something and I'll feel STUFFED.
Now, the good thing about this is that I'm starting to look pretty good. My mom keeps commenting on how "slim" I'm getting, and when we visited my uncle's family in Windsor for Thanksgiving, they all kept saying how "fantastic" I look and how much weight I've lost. That was almost two weeks ago. I've lost about ten more pounds since then. And yet I've still got those nifty, feminine curves I keep telling you about. Gotta love that.
The not-so-good thing about this is that I'm worried I'm seriously fucking with my health. I forget to eat two meals in a row. I substitute a meal with a cup of coffee (because I'm full after a cup of coffee). After not eating all day, I'm not even hungry enough to finish a little friggin' sandwich I make for dinner. That's not normal. Or healthy. It's messed up.
Now before you go and call some eating disorder clinic and have them tie me down and feed me intravenously, let me assure you that I am not anywhere close to being underweight. My "ideal" weight, according to those medical charts, is somewhere between 105 and 115 pounds, and I've got a ways to go before I get down to that. So don't worry too much about me, OK?
Still, I should probably figure out how to make myself able to eat regular meals again. I don't want to die of some kind of vitamin or mineral deficiency. That wouldn't be cool. Maybe I should get a blood test. Fuck, I hate those. Needles freak me out. But still.
OK. It's time to go eat the Chinese food I ordered, like, three hours ago that's gotten cold by now. Because yet again, it's been a no-food day.
My goal is to not stop eating after one spring roll. Root for me, will you?
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