A thing.

So I'm going to try this thing. This thing where I go on a diet and journal every day about it and complete a small art piece done with the "Creative Process as Art Therapy" technique.

This is the first day... first unofficial day.

I've had food. I've worked out. I'm fairly tired. My stomach is saying, "What the hell? I mean, we like this kind of thing but we're used to getting some fat and processed food with the healthy shit. I guess we can work with this but... MORE CELERY???? Jesus!"

My residence hall's gym irritates me. A bunch of asian girls not needing sports bras on the treadmills. A bunch of asian guys dressing and acting like overly-testosteroned hip-hop small pricked.... asian guys.

Listened to Rachel Maddow while riding on the bike. Closed my eyes most of the time. I feel fat and "unclean" when I'm in there. Or I feel that that's what EVERYONE ELSE is thinking. Which in terms of Marc Maron means that that "YOU'RE FAT AND UNCLEAN. AN UNTOUCHABLE!" voice is INSIDE MY HEAD.

I'm doing the EXTREME Fat Smash Diet. It's EXTREEEEEEEEEEEEEEME!

Whatever. No, actually I'm fairly excited about it. Dedicated. Gone through a slight change in my life that made me motivated to get what I want... to erase the parts of my upbringing and create new histories.

That and I'm graduating this May and prob. applying to grad schools. Fun.

Yeah, I know I haven't blogged. The reasons are long, repetitive, predictable, and more suited for stand-up comedy and my therapist's couch.