Tuesday

Have put my FaceFuck page on 'Suspend' until after the midterm. I can do with one less Trigger&Timesink right now.

Here is the Official Medical Peoples Situation:
-DHB (District Health Board) won't touch me coz I'm a student, they say Student Health would be faster
-Student Health won't touch me coz I'm finishing my studies before they'll be able to see me
-Doctor re-referred me to the DHB
-As there has been no worsening (OR improvement) in my "mood" (As they term it) I'm re-issues a 30mg/day Mirtazapine dosage and will be seen again in 6 months
-I'm self-harming again, and seriously contemplating suicide
-Last night Miles stayed over, and all I wanted to do was ask him to stop trying to turn me on, coz I wanted to sleep.
-There have been no fun times in the sack for going on two months now, due entirely to me.

On the plus side:
-I turned the heel on my first ever sock (With tons of room for improvement)
-I set the record for the 2km row for "Women Under 40" at the gym: 2min 26.5seconds (I used to be able to do it in under 9min, so there is something else to work for)
-Watching Sailor Moon counts as study, because some of the Bad Guys use grammar points that will be in the Midterm next week
-Watching the Waxeyes swarm the bird feeder is fucking hysterical

I'm doing to him what The Boy did to me, all thanks to depression and self-loathing. No sex, no reaction and isolation. It make me hate myself MORE because I know exactly what is happening and I just want it to STOP. ALL OF IT. RIGHT NOW. I wish I could flip a switch and be happy and lustful again. Right now I just want to go hide in a tiny room and not come out until I'm in a pine box.

So very, very tempted to ring one of the depression helplines and give them a piece of my mind about the useless sodding health system. Wouldn't that be nice? To cut out a chunk of diseased grey matter and return to function as a normal human being? Pity it doesn't work like that.

My city has the 34th highest suicide rate in the country. Lol, maybe I should move to Palmy North and help them retain their Number One status? *Snort* Not bloody likely.

Ok, it is approaching midnight and I need to finish watching this episode of Sailor Moon, read on of the honbuns for the midterm and go to bed.

Gotta finish this sock so I can attack the fuckups (holes) and sew them closed. Yeesh!

~Peri

trying to delete my facebook account. they want a reason. fuck that. long day at work. i ate half a cake ontop of everything else i normally have on a sunday. working with NGS who stank of booze and vomit and did less than normal. miles came to pick me up and we argued and i left my keys at work and i asked if they were in his van and he didnt reply coz he was at his slutty pseudo-hippie sister's house with her pseudo-hjippy theatre mates and i dumped my bag out in a pile of dog shit trying to find my keys and couldnt find them and went all the way back to work and they were in the changing rooms and i don't want to shower and i need to but my thighs are huge and i just wan to cut and binge and i really dont want to be alive anymore coz i was only alive for him and he keeps asking about kids and ive told him i dont want any and its all he talks about and he never asks why and never even talks about anything that would lead up to kids and we havnt had sex in months and the thought of anyone touching me makes me want to rip my skin off and i dont know anymore the health board wont touch me coz im a student and student health wont touch me coz i finish uni before they would be able to see me and i dont care anymore i dont even know why i try i jsut want to die im so sick of it i just want to be dead i never wanted to live this long anyway and im not going anywhere or doing anything im a fat fucking failure stupid waste of space. the sadistic fucks of doctors have given me shit that wont kill me even if i take 1200mg. even combining it with the citalopram i have left is unlikely to do anything. this is fucking retarded. im going to update fitday have an apple and read something so ill hopefully forget how disgusting i am.

Dear You

Heather has asked me to write a letter to whomever about whatever. I must commence with "Dear you" and am only allowed to use pronouns.

So, to begin.

Dear You.

I believe Atwood had something to say about using that phrase. "Attaching a name attaches you to the world of fact, which is riskier, more hazardous. . . I will say you, you, you like an old love song. Which this very well could have been, There could have been love songs, duets even, had I not been such an idiot.

Sorry, dystopic fiction wasn't really your thing, was it? So I move on to happier memories.

I wish I could say this to your face. I wish I know where to find you, how to contact you, or could even find and acquaintance to pass along a letter. For all I know, you will end up reading this, sometime. Maybe you have plunged into hell too, I don't know.

It could even be my fault that you found this by yourself and recognized yourself as the addressee.

In any case, this really needs to be said. So I say it here in the false anonymity of the Internet, for lack of any more satisfactory options.

Firstly, I want to thank you.

Thank you.

THANK YOU.

You have no idea how much I owe you. You took what was pain and discomfort and a feeling of being used and transformed it. Your magical, musical hands transmuted it into passion, pleasure and fun. You gave me the world and I wish I could thank you.

I also want to apologize.

I am so very, very sorry for how I hurt you. I was (and still am) a fucked up, immature little twit. I had no idea what to do and nobody to stop me hurting you far worse than you deserve.

I admit, I did not know who you were underneath the pot and that scared me a little. After my Mother and all she did, it is hardly surprising. I will not blame her for me allowing myself to be shackled by the past.

I am fairly sure I could have loved you until the ends of time, if I hadn't been such a coward. For you I could have sung 'Close To You' and meant every word. Now I sing a different song for you, for the Memories of what was and what could have been.

Will you forgive me? Will you ever know what you gave me? I don't know. So I say it it the anonymous masses:

Thank you. With all my heart, thank you.

Vizzy, PrettyLies, Honor and Starving Artist. Your turn to write a letter.

~Peri

What The Shit?

Ok, yesterday I walked into class about 5mins late to find we were about to have a Speaking test.

WTF?!?!???

I owned it, being a native Dunedinite who has worked in hotels and spent my school holidays hanging out at the Backpackers Mum used to clean.

(We were pretending to be I-Site employees being interviewed for Japanese TV. Gods it was funny!)

Today I overslept and had my bike cut out on me halfway down the hill.

Downhill+No engine=SHITTING YOUR PANTS.

On a motorbike, one of the most helpful tools for slowing down is the engine itself.

I pulled into the Warehouse and gave it a 5min break before starting it up again and crossing fingers and toes all the way to the petrol station. I'm not entirely sure what's up with it, maybe it's not a fan of hills or there's a loose wire or something. *Shrug*

I'm not up for Club tonight. Soooooo not keen. I told Miles I don't feel welcome there (which is true) and he's wanting to know WHY.

I honestly don't fucking know. I just know that I don't feel welcome and haven't felt welcome there for years. He instantly brought up the girl who was taken advantage of while drunk at one of the Circulation festivals few years back. I wasn't around the club much then either, so I didn't hear about it until recently.

Also: PDAs from the boyfriend in a large crowded room of unwelcoming pseudo-hippies and fauxhemians when I don't want people touching me just makes me want to skin myself alive.

For good news, Spotlight is having a massive sale of some pretty sock yarns, so I'm going tot he dark side. They also are running a Free Shop at Uni EVERY SINGLE DAY this week, and I picked up a new top, a skirt and some pants today. I just hope they fucking well fit!

Next week is mid-semester break, so I'm heading up to see Glamour Nana out west of Christchurch. There will be photos of pretty almost-springness and maybe some baby sheep :p

Ok, I'm going to go find something constructive to do. I really need to stop doing shit I don't want to do just because other people want me to do it.

~Peri

FUCK UNI, MONDAYS AND IDIOT BOYFRIENDS

I feel like my life is one massive joke and somewhere the Gods are laughing hysterically.

Spent the last 3 days eating nonstop. Well over 10,000cals for the weekend. Just can't stop eating.

Today I overslept and was woken up by the boss asking me to work tonight. I said no, coz I have a massive infection in my left ear again and can't hear out of it very well.

Found out 20mins before class started that we had the listening exam today.

10mins before class I snapped BOTH of the keys to the lock holding the cover of my bike on, coz it had frozen solid.

5mins after class started I was sprinting down the hill to a taxi stand, any taxi stand, and made it to class 20mins after it started.

Re-sat the test after the lecture on Causative and Causative-Passive forms (Some of my least favourite parts of the Japanese Language).

Spent my last $20 on laxatives that haven't kicked in yet.

Need a new lock so I can cover my bike without having the $130 cover stolen.

I just want to be left alone and Miles keeps texting me and he's making me feel like I'm being drowned in fucking syrup with no air and he just WON'T leave me alone and I just want everyone to leave me the fuck alone.

Then he goes and puts a fucking slideshow up of me on YouTube with hideous music and all the fat photos from Facebook. I know for a fact that he had video footage of me doing hoop and poi and devilsticks but NO he goes and used all the pics of me doing acrobalance with a HUGE puku sticking out in front and dye washing out of my hair and pasty winter-pale its all fucking hideous. Nobody would hire someone who looks like they're going to be popping out a kid in 5 months for a physical heavy-travel job.

This is fucking ridiculous. WHY am I letting him force me into doing this? Why do I always do what other people want me to do? Oh right, coz people expect me to keep on being ALIVE and to get a DEGREE and be FAT so they can feel better about themselves and FILL MY HOUSE WITH CAT STUFF and work 9-5 MONDAY TO FRIDAY and have FAKE FRIENDS and have BABIES who will grow up to be like ME who will kill themselves before they finish high school.

I don't want any of that. Everyone is better than me at everything so I should have just put myself out of my misery years ago.

I know when my assignment is due, what I have to study for the midterm and when that is, and the date of my final exam. I'm going to get an addon, play some minecraft and blow the living shit out of the map.

~Peri

I Heart Q

I grew up watching this show. It was our 'Thing' to watch TNG with Dad. I used to hero-worship Worf, had a crush on Data despite being totally baffled by (and totally understanding) his desire to fit in with the humans around him and wondered if Riker was ever going to develop a personality. Naturally I thought Q was fucking AWESOME since he was just like a kid, despite being as close to omnipotent as you can get with the rest of the continuum breathing down your neck.

~Peri

Storytime Award

Mhairi! Gave me this:


Mich's Story Time award.

Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Story story story.

What Can I tell you?

Shit.

Lol, how about the introduction from my first ever attempt at National Novel Writing Month? The unfinished effort of NaNo2010. It should be interesting, I haven't looked at it since November last year.

Prepare for a wall of text. Go make yourself a cuppa now, this isn't going to be pretty. NaNo is about quantity, not quality.

~----------------------------------------------------------~

The sun beat down from a clear blue sky, beating the already sere grass into further submission against the hard earth of the plains. The only shadow to be found was that of a lone horse and rider, racing an imaginary wind through the dead and dying grassland. The horse was exhausted; streaks of sweat darkening its reddish-brown hide. The cloaked woman in the saddle was in no better condition. She reined in, pulling the nervous best to an unwilling walk. The horse fought for its head, snorting and plunging sideways. The plains were not as flat as they seemed at a distance, the horse’s foreleg found an abandoned rabbit hole. Too late to avoid it, the horse’s foreleg was snapped with a sickening sound.

Screaming, the horse went down, throwing the shocked woman clear before it began thrashing in agony. The woman hit hard and rolled, leaping upright and moving as close to her companion as she dared. She swore as the bow she had carefully strapped to the saddle snapped under the weight of the injured animal. She couldn’t get close enough to put it out of its misery with the short knife at her waist, and it would take the horse longer than she liked to wear itself into a stupor.

“Just HOLD STILL you stupid beast!” She screamed in frustration. Sparks danced in front of her eyes, the hot midmorning grasslands and the thrashing horse destroying her gear fading in and out of her sight. To her complete surprise, the injured animal relaxed completely, head coming to rest on the dry earth. It wasn’t dead. It still breathed and its sweaty bay hide twitched as if flies already landed on it. With an apology, she pulled her knife and cut the horse’s throat. She held vigil as the blood drained and its eyes closed.

When the stillness of the horse was that of death and not some strange paralysis, she rescued what remained from the bags strapped to the saddle and began to pragmatically butcher the carcass. Her destination was a long way off by horse, and even longer by foot. Without a bow to kill from a distance, her rations would become very slim very fast, horse meat or none.



It was in this way, from a combination of accident and pure horrible chance, that one of the forms of magic in our world was discovered. This magic demands a price in pain and weakness from the one who would wield it. Ways have been sought by those seeking an easy path to power to pass this price and pain off onto others. They have not succeeded. They have, however, succeeded in twisting others to their use. These tortured individuals are slaves to the wills of others, trading choice and responsibility for comfort until they outlive their usefulness.

There is a lot less known about the origins of the second form of magic. The stories in the marketplaces claim it was always knows, but kept secret to protect people from the evil that such power inevitably arouses in the hearts of men. Common myth holds that it was a knowledge possessed only by monks and sages, or perhaps a few remote tribes who disdained contact with the people who dwelt in cities.

Like all stories ‘everyone knows’, these are all wrong. Myths and fantasies dreamed up by people who dislike everyday humdrum and long for mystery and excitement. The truth is at once more fantastic and more boring than they would have you believe.

I know, because I was there.

My name is too long to trouble you with. You may call me Exan like everyone does; it is much easier to remember. Welcome to the story of how the world became as you know it today. The story of our World and it’s Magic, and how it came to us in its dual forms. One whose price is paid in pain, and another which is paid for in daily self-discipline.



The fire flickered in the hearth, popped and spat a shower of golden sparks up the chimney. The flare of light briefly illuminated the weathered and wrinkled face of the old storyteller. His eyebrows and snowy hair in a well-groomed band around his bald pate glowing golden before fading back into shadows. The assorted medley of inn patrons shifted restlessly. Stories were welcomed in the long winter nights, but this man promised to be long-winded and dull to boot.

The wind howled, most likely bringing more snow to pack against the sides of the buildings that made up the compound of the Lion’s Tail Inn. It had been a horrible winter, the blizzards hampering travel and putting rooms and even floor space at the Inn at a premium. Some of the young dragons lying around the walls of the great common hall tucked their heads under wings or tailtips and fell asleep. Others perked up with interest. This was something new to them.

After another round of drinks had been called for and distributed, humanoid and dragon alike turned to the old man with expectant faces. He took his time settling himself more comfortably, taking a long drink of the excellent Lion’s Tail cider. He grinned into his mug at the disgruntled looks from the more impatient onlookers. They brightened visibly when he lowered his mug and cleared his throat noisily.



~----------------------------------------------------------~

My unedited garbage. Go on, be brutal.

Now, eight people to pass the Storytelling Torch on to. People whose writing has stuck in my mind and may also be in the waiting-to-be-published box. I'm sure I've forgotten people, but I've been up since 6am and it's nearly 11pm. Give me a break!

Amaris Six-stars Starshine, Cinnamon, Haze, Lou, Paix, Parisienne, Sarahlynn, Vizzy

~Peri

Somehow. . .

. . . I doubt Miles thinks this.

Back under 63kg today :3 All that snow keeping me away from the candy store is good for something!

~Peri

Brrrr

I just tried to moisturize my hands.

Tried.

My hands were so cold it sort of. . . congealed. . . on them.

Don't worry, I haven't frozen to death in Snowmageddon.

Still have too much blubber on me for that!

I haven't posted any snow photos of this recent lot, coz I'm heartily sick of looking at the same front yard & Mt.Cargill shots. If we get more tonight, I promise I'll snap some of other locales for you.

Shit, I don't remember if I posted about Dad's 50th. It was fairly uneventful. Braved normal coke with my vodka coz I saw CHEESE, NUTS AND CRACKERS on the snackage trays, and I know what aspartame does to my appetite! Made it through without turning into a binge monster. It kinda helped that my cousin came, and she seems to have gained not only her Fresher 5 but those of her flatmates as well.

Pity it looks so damn good on her. Must be the genes from her Mum's side. Blasted Canadians know where to put it for best effect!

Miles gave Dad a foam clown nose for his Bday. He loved it! I made him a hat, but forgot to get a photo. I met Lockee, she was wearing the hat I made :3 I didn't hold her, though. I would have probably accidental dropped her by accident out of sheer exhaustion :/

Glamour Nana has been informed of the Blog Nickname gifted to her by you guys. She loved it! Lol, it turns out Mum was whining to her about how Youngest Bro and I never ring her or visit her, and she EVEN has the gall to complain about me potentially joining the circus!

(Potential in Korea next year, April-August. Cross your fingers for me? They need 50 people. Since Lady.E. put out the call, there will be infinitely more talented {As in CIRCUS SCHOOL talented} and saner people than I applying. Miles suggested it to me, could you imagine us as a pair of Circos, touring the world? *Dreamy sigh*)

I was looking at collapsible Fire Hoop prices on my favourite NZ-based gear website. OMG. I need to start whoring AND practicing my circus skills.

Shit shit shit.

Downstairs Lady is gonna have to put up with the noise of dropped Devilsticks and juggling/contact balls for a few months. I WILL GET THAT ONE-HANDED TICKTOCK IF IT KILLS ME!

~Peri

A Nugget of Useful Information

Useful to me, anyway.

Mum doesn't believe that I'm actually depressed.

Turns out her Mum was diagnosed with depression when she was little. (Take into account that fact that this was in the 60s and 70s. Do a little research into the medical profession's attitude towards mental illness at that time)

Now, what the doctors did was essentially what they still do now, minus the creative addition of 'Talk Therapy'.

They threw pills at Nana and sent her home.

They put her on one of the meds that you are on FOR LIFE. That you CANNOT STOP TAKING or it WILL kill you.

Francis has essentially been pickled in the skin. Driven bonkers by the wrong cocktails of meds.

THAT is why I've never wholly trusted Doctors. EVER.

This is why she panics whenever I tell her that I'm taking /another/ new sodding pill.

I'm fucked. Cursed genetically from BOTH sides, predisposition given hellish life by the shit my drug-fucked mother did to us when she was too stoned or freaking coz she didn't have any more weed.

I want to cry so badly. I want to binge until I cannot think. Cut out my innards and play games with them while I bleed out. Drink until I pass out, wake up and drink some more.

Mum will never believe me. I don't want to tell her the truth of how bad it is for me, coz it will only hurt her and she'll smoke MORE to try to forget.

IF she believes me.

My youngest brother doesn't speak to her much either. Not surprising, I remember her forcing him to eat his own vomit.

Hell, Dad's 50th tomorrow night. Time to play happy families and pray to anything that will listen that my brother doesn't pass this legacy on to his newest baby.

Lockee Izabel, 8lb 2 born on Tuesday night. I'm an Aunty again!

Dammit Mum, this is why I don't call you. You're a trigger on two legs and being confronted with your willful ignorance increases my desire for self-obliteration.

~Peri

Brain Isn't On Straight

Ok, lets set aside the fact that I've gained ANOTHER sodding kilo in the last week (Officially in the 63 range now).

Quit hyperventilating Peri, you silly bitch. Panic means stress and stress means MORE weight gain. Not all of the Fresher 5 comes from pints and junkfood!

THIS scares me.

I've read too many dystopias and have written too many stories NOT to be scared by a Government considering turfing people out of home and cutting the communication lines of it's populace in response to actions it disliked.

The cops here were doing the same things during the "Undie 500" riots. They went down Albany st and Castle st turfing people out of their own flats simply for LIVING on the street that riots were taking place in.

Mindless mobs create the terror with which we beg people in power to lead us into the sheepfold, thinking we will be safe.

It's all downhill from there, power is the most addictive substance on earth.

Yeah, I'm overreacting. Its all I can do these days. I spent Wednesday wondering how long I could play cats' cradle with my own intestines before I passed out from bloodloss. The Boy told me that the less intelligent you are, the more likely you are to be happy.

Ignorance is bliss?

~Peri

Tuesday

Minimal human contact, so I'm happy.

Yesterday I weighed 64.2kg after my weekend at work (I should know by now not to weigh myself on a Monday. My 'Official Weigh Day' is Wednesday, anyway), overslept and was 1&1/4 hours late for class. I missed the vocab test and flailed the instant-resit.

Horror.

Lets just put that day in the dusty bottom drawer of the desk and forget it ever existed, hey?

Today wasn't stellar, but it was still a damn sight better than yesterday.

I made toffee for the first time in years. Go me.

Fixed up my cargo pants after class, and prettified the back pocket of my off-white (Still: WHITE!?!?? What the hell was I thinking????) Free Shop pants. They need a few inches (Read: 7-10) added to the hems before I can wear them. Pics will come when I fit them again -.-;

I've got the back of a blue&white baby singlet in progress, for Seafood Dude's or Ana's Girls' future spawn. I won't knit baby gear at Squad because of some very sad happenings.

A lovely Iranian immigrant lady from Squad had her baby two weeks ago. A lovely wee boy. He is now sleeping the long sleep, he died at 3 days old. The Squad is getting together to help her with her hospital bills (She went home on Friday to see her parents. You need your Mum at a time like this) and we're also knitting her a blanket. 15cm* peggy squares of any machine-washable yarn. I volunteered to sew it together. Don't have much time for MORE knitting with all my WIPs.

Baby stuff, pig for Jaq, 2 pigs for Monique, Minecraft-inspired jumper for me, peggy squares for Fresh Futures, craft stall gear for Fresh Futures, vest for me, Mich's blanket AUGH FUCK.

The only good thing about how long her blanket is taking me: I'm practicing my weaving in of ends, crochet edging, seaming and colour work on everyone elses shit. (1/4 of the way done, I think)

Beddy-byes. Fuck it's nearly midnight and I still need to cover my bike.

~Peri

Sorry

Yeah, so I said I'd never say sorry or do one of those irritating bloody apology posts that people seem obsessed with doing at least twice a month.

*Eats own words*

Mmmmm, tasty. Ballpoint and refill pad -.-

I'm going through yet ANOTHER sodding adjustment phase after being switched off Doxepin and onto Mirtazapine. It seems to be going better than the last time, less crying at every little thing and marginally fewer rages. Yippee?

At least I'm not passing out all over the show.

I seem to have lost all will, ability and desire to interact with other humans. Jaq came over and I didn't know what to say, how to act with another person around. I went to visit my brother's GF and her daughter/my niece to drop off some baby clothes I made for the baby she is having next week. I ended up drying the dishes.

I don't even care that I don't want to. I'd be very happy if I never had to interact with another human again.

*Sigh* that is fucked.

I have an appointment on the 15th with a psychologist/psychiatrist at the university. This is my last attempt to beat some help out of the health system here before I end up in A&E being stitched/tubed/fed charcoal. Fuck it. Just let the monsters get me.

The thing that pisses me off the most (More than buggering up ALL of my SSPA rules. Bwahahaha, child of 80s metal I am) is that the unwillingness to interact with people has lead me to not read blogs again. I noticed it again a few days ago, and I'm trying to break it. I don't know if it's the lack of desire for human contact or not feeling up to reading your blogs. I really don't know.

Baby steps towards socializing?

Random good news: Contract negotiations at work. 3% pay increase :D 10min coffee break for a 2-3hour shift :D :D

Yes, coffee trumps money right now. I have my priorities, don't try to logic them into rational sense.

Need sleep. Snow forecast for tomorrow and I'm working *Sigh*

~Peri

SSPA

Sneaky Skinny-Pants August.

I need something to cling to, and ressurecting this stick of driftwood



Bugger following someone else's rules: I'm making my own. (AS per usual, lol)

1) 30mins calisthenics for toning every day
2) SIT UP STRAIGHT
3) 1500cal MAX unless at work, then you're allowed to consume AS OPTIONAL EXTRA half of what you burn in the shift to keep yourself going.
4) Get 100% RDI of Vitamin C to keep immune system going and make your skin nice.
5) 100% RDI of fiber to kick any laxative habits.
6) Anything OVER the 1500/work allowance must be burnt off in cardio within the next two days

Since Miles insisted on bringing apple pie and soy ice-cream for pudding on the 1st (And remains stubborn in the face of my insistence that takeaways are limited to once a week) I have 1376cals to burn off tomorrow and the next day. FML.

So saying: Shower, meds, 30mins of dancing in my lounge and bed. Class in the morning. I've been avoiding reading blogs AGAIN so I have about a week to catch up on -.- Will do that between knitting squad and the hippie-infested wonder of juggling club. (If they play reggae-dubstep cross again, I'll cry)

~Peri

EDIT: I'm considering raising the cal ceiling to 1800 for the middle fortnight of the month and reducing it to 1500 again for the last week. I'm having a mental time trying to go from binge-tastic 24/7 to restricting. Bloody hell. Slamming from 3rd gear right back down to first isn't good for body, mind or gearbox. You need to transition through second gear on the way.
NEW RULE:
7) When the monthly visitor comes, there is an extra 200-300cal allowed for chocolate. That choccy bar could save the world from a hormonal monster AND the mother of all binges. Lol, my chocolate buttons did me the world of good.

63kg

I swore I'd never let myself get over 60 again.

I'm nearly back where I was 2 years ago.

FUCK THIS.

August 1 today. SSPA all the way.

Being on fat pills I simply cannot afford 8, 9, 10pm fish&chips or takeaway curries or pizzas with Miles. He has a fast metabolism and can afford to eat fatty carb-intense meals 3/4 of the time, I cannot.

Also, the depressed binges on shopping day will have to stop too. I'll look at the money I would spend and think of the other shit I could buy with it instead.

THERE IS A PAIR OF JEANS I HAVE NEVER WORN BECAUSE I STARTED INFLATING THE WEEK AFTER I BOUGHT THEM. I refuse to have muffin top, simple as that.

Ok, game on.

~Peri