40 Grams.

Song I will be placing on repeat all day: Dakota, A Rocket to the Moon.

Foods I will attempt not to eat: Anything not on the sample diet given to me by Dr. Protein.

Yesterday, I had my first diet consultation. “Dr. Protein" was charming, knowledgeable, and totally delicious. [Equating to the fact I have an obsession with older gentlemen with thinning hair and laugh lines, though I was having a hard time telling which team he batted for.]

The B12 shot wasn't bad, I think it made me more sleepy than excitable. I started the Phentermine today and slashed my carb intake to 40grams--okay, I cheated. 41 grams. I did really well until I got to after dinner--I snuck a hot dog. Yes, a hot dog. I don't even LIKE hot dogs, but eating that hot dog straight out of the refrigerator was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. Afterwards, I felt cheap--dirty, guilty, like I had ruined everything because I had cheated myself and got away with it. I've vowed that tomorrow, I won't fail. I will rise above temptation and ignore that Mango sherbet in the freezer calling my name.

The only appealing thing is… I get to eat as much protein as I want. Which sounds slightly sexual, but I’m just talking about chicken. Honest.

***
"We can't change how other's perceive us, only how we perceive ourselves."

My Best Friend’s Wedding & Thereafter.

It was January 2008. My life, it seemed, had come to a complete halt. I had given up on UCF by the 2nd semester of my 2nd year, and had moved back home, tail between my legs, defeated. I was in a fragile state—the hungry tiger of life stalking my every step, waiting for me to slip up. That’s when my best friend, Nemo*, and I became closer than ever.

When I met Nemo, she was pure spark, full of energy that combusted the air around her. She was everything I had always dreamed of being—beautiful, wanted, talented, and socially defunct. She was on the in of being on the out, and she seemed to know all the juicy gossip, but was humble in a way that made her deserving. She was cool, suave, sexy, and daring and I planted her next to Eleanor & Jane in my idol hall. There was this magnetism that drew me to her. She seemed so collected, so privileged, yet underneath she was tarnished, just like me. You see, Nemo was a broken clown--with the right makeup and the right costume, she appeared happy and full of life, but underneath it all she was lonely—always searching for something to fill the void where her father left a gaping hole.

I met Nemo my junior year of high school. We shared stage makeup 101 8th period with my favorite teacher Ms. B. We immediately bonded over our mutual quirkiness & inability to figure out where we exactly fit. We both had social impediments complete with “daddy issues” and we both had no idea where life was going to take us, but we both thought we had it all planned out. She graduated a year before me, but somehow we stayed in touch and I began to think that she was going to be one of those lifetime friends. We talked about our kids growing up together and how our husbands would be weekend golf buddies.

Nemo was always great at attracting the opposite sex, while I ruled at repelling them. She was gorgeous & outgoing, while I was nervous & insecure. She could easily talk to boys, while I either stuttered or said something condescending. But Nemo was far from being “slutty”—she believed in relationships, not hook ups. After a short lifetime of break ups and break downs, Nemo married Jermaine* in April 2007. They were—and still are—perfect for each other. [Whenever I’m ready to give up on finding love, I just think about the sacrifices and heart breaks she had to endure until she found the right one. You’d think that would make me more hopeful, but mostly it just makes me want to avoid love altogether. How she made it through all that and managed to keep her wonderful figure is beyond physics.]

…to be continued.

*Names were changed. “Nemo” refers to our first inside joke we ever shared. “Jermaine” is after Flight of the Conchords. They remind me of his humor.