Easter Eggless

It is Easter Sunday and I can't sleep.
I could lie to you and tell you that I'm just too excited for a wonderful family filled day later and thats why I can't sleep, but that would be a big fat lie.

I've never been a good liar.

I can't sleep because I fell asleep earlier and now my body is awake.  I want to sleep and I know I will be exhausted tomorrow but I just can't.

Being this awake sucks.  Being sober sucks.  Well, it sucks right now.  People keep telling me it won't suck as much later on and that you'll experience a miracle.  I'm not completely sold yet but I'm totally open to a miracle right now.

That would be the best fucking thing ever.  A MIRACLE!!!

At least then I would know why or how and maybe even what for because the one thing thing that goes through my head when I can't sleep is how empty i feel.

I am eggless in almost every sense of the word.

I keep thinking about my childhood and easter egg hunts.  It was simple back then and I miss that.

My mom loved getting us easter baskets.  I used to wake up to a basket every year.  It was wonderful and I long for those innocent moments of childhood.

The days of baskets of candy and crocheted frills on my socks.  A special dress just for the day and then finally the hunt for all the glory.

No one tells you that when you grow up you'll have to look twice as hard for the "eggs", and they also don't tell you that the eggs are sometimes empty.

You may find the egg, but it may be empty, and thats the hardest part.

So, right now in this moment at my age I feel eggless.

My socks have no frills

My basket is empty and I am cold.

I miss my innocence and at times my eyes have seen more than they can handle.
You can't un-see things and you can't un-feel them either.

Growing up sucks and I feel like I should have done it sooner than this but I wasn't ready.
Some days I'm still not.

This may seem sad to you, but its not to me.  Its reality and a part of the journey.  Its personal to me, not private, but personal.

I'm beginning to think that adulthood is the ultimate adventure.

To that I smile.

Because of that I know that I won't be eggless forever.  The basket will fill up for me again someday.
Maybe not with colorful eggs and candy but with other joys and hopefully love.

I'm hopeful most of all for that.

Any kind of love, because after all eggs are eggs and love is love.

Maggie I miss you more than I can say and I cry more than anyone knows because you're gone.  Thank you for all those easter baskets.

Where am I going with this?
I don't know, but I now know that I need to go fill up my basket.

I don't need to be Easter Eggless anymore.

Oatmeal Raisin Cookie Crash

I'm back in Michigan and after what I went through in California this last time I'm not really that upset about it.  I still can't go into detail of what happened.  It hurts too much and in the end everyone thought I was an asshole when really they just didn't know the truth.

I'll tell you all someday, but today isn't that day.  The question that everyone wanted answered was "What happened out there?'  I don't have an answer yet and I can't even talk about it anymore.

I can tell you about last week and that I'm glad its behind me and I lived to tell you about it.

Last Monday was the 1 year anniversary of my mom's death.  I still don't feel right and I'm not really sure how to be a functioning adult without her.  When she was alive she would reassure me that I was  on some kind of path and that I was doing the right thing.  She believed in me.  Now I know that anyone reading this can say they believe in me and I'm sure that you do.  But, until I could learn how to believe in myself my mom believing me was the next best thing.

Monday went by and I got through the day okay.  It seemed so busy that I didn't really get a chance to feel anything. I don't really like to feel very much in front of other people.  I'd rather write about it.

Tuesday was a blur and it doesn't really matter anyways.  The day that mattered the most was the next day, Wednesday.

I had promised myself that I would take some time off when I got home and not work.  NO WORK.  I wasn't really sure what my plan was going to be but I knew I needed a break from cooking.  All the reasons behind that will come later.

I was going crazy just after a month of being on the road back home and then hanging out on my sisters couch.  Although it was an amazing couch and we had spent hours together I knew I had to do something with myself at least part time.  So I did.
I got a job in the Lansing area at a small international market working in the deli.  Everyone one of them seemed puzzled when they asked me why I would want to work there for just over minimum wage.  My answer was always the same.  I wanted to do something different.

Going from working in a high stress demanding kitchen filled happily self proclaimed tattooed miscreants to a bunch of hairnet wearing daytime ladies was like going from 150 miles an hour on the highway to 45 in 65mph zone.

The whole experience was intense, but I was open to it.  I fancy myself a writer and a dreamer.  I'll try anything for inspiration.

I'm always looking for a new muse no matter how bad he or she may be.

Like I said this bunch of people was different.  They didn't know how to take me and I the same about them.  I didn't mind it though.  It was easy, I didn't have to think about much besides whether the customer asked for gelbwurst or jagdwurst.  Did they want half a pound of sliced gouda or a quarter of a pound?  It was easy.

There was one girl though that I didn't know what to make of.  It was obviously she didn't like me.  She did everything she could to try to make me feel stupid.  She seemed to disgustingly get off by making me wash dishes for hours even when they were all hers and none of them were mine.
She was the Assistant Deli Manager and I type that in all caps because she made sure I knew who she was.  She told me everyday at least twice a day and also made sure that I knew that she was a chef too and that we were probably trained differently.  She was the chef of a pizza restaurant.  Who was I to tell her anything that she did was wrong even though it was.
I ignored her most of the time and kept busy because I wanted to come in, do my job and go home.
This Wednesday was particularly interesting.  I had talked to her the day before and asked her why she didn't like me.  I got tired of everyone telling me that thats just how she was.  Thats how she talks to everyone.

Not me.  I've never been one to put up with anyone treating me like shit unless I loved them and I didn't love this Bitch.  I was amazed that anyone did.  She was awful and just the sight of her face made me sad.

Yes, I'm being bitchy and mean, but I did try to get past it when I asked her why she and I didn't get along.  I liked being there and I wanted problems with no one.  I'd rather tackle it, hash it out and get it over with.

Lets all move on.

I had been really trying to make efforts to get back on track and make some sense of my life.  The past couple of years had been bad and I was ready for some light.  I had even done a cleanse to jump start my return to weight loss.  I get sick of hearing about it too, but its a battle that I'll never be able to stop fighting.  I believe a lot of other people feel the same way and fall off and get back on like I do.

I had gone to lunch and not really had much that day besides my morning shake, green tea and a greek yogurt for lunch.  I was still hungry.

I ignore the basket of samples on the counter that the bakery ladies leave for people to sample all day long, but today I wanted something.  Just one bite and I would have been satisfied.  I had been exercising and eating well.  I felt good.
I peeked in the basket and a bakery lady named Trina said "Whatcha lookin for?"  She smiled at me.  I said "I just want something sweet.  I need a little bite."
She replied, "Here I have some Oatmeal Raisin Cookies that are out of date by like two days.  They're still good."
I said thank you and I smiled.  I knew that one lousy cookie wasn't going to ruin my life or day.  There was something different going on with me and I liked it.

As I walked back to the table to work with the Assistant Manager, she looked up at me jealously and said "Where did you get that?"  I smiled, "Trina just gave it to me."
 
She looked up walked towards Trina and said out loud, "Hey! I'm fat too, I want one too!"

I was humiliated and all of the sudden I felt like I was 11 years old again wanting my mothers shoulder to cry on until I felt better.  It was horrible.  Everyone looked at me shocked.  Were they as appalled as I was for her being such an idiot or worried that I was going to destroy this useless cunts miserable face with my bare hands?

I did neither.  I looked up and I said, "HEY! HEY! I'm not eating this cookie because I'm fat, I'm eating it because its delicious. "  And with that I smiled and it all seemed to be smoothed over.  She was embarrassed, her puffy face was all red and as she walked back, cookie in hand she apologized.  She told me she didn't mean to say it like that.  She had meant something else.

It was too late though, her idiotic comment rattled me.  It rattled me so bad that I went to my 11 year old self to deal with the humiliation I felt at that moment.  I shamed myself in my head for that cookie, and I was beating myself up far worse than she ever could have.  I immediately wanted comfort and for me that always comes in the form of food.  The remedy seemed simple, a bologna sandwich and Doritos.  That was all I wanted and then it would pass.

That afternoon I left work with a fake smile on my face so that no one would know what was really going on.  I had no idea how much I had given that Cunt assistant manager.  It was like I had given her permission to drive for the rest of the day.

I had a phone appointment with my therapist that usually takes place in my car in a random parking lot and I cried.  I cried to her because my mother wasn't there and I cried to her because my 11 year old self needed to be upset.  I was disappointed in myself and in how bad I had let that stupid cunt get to me.

I finished my appointment and I looked up and saw Wal-Mart.  I thought to myself, I can go in really quick and get some bologna and Doritos and then head home.  But I knew that wasn't going to help.  I knew my head was in a bad place and it had been for some time.  This cookie incident was just the last straw.  Something had to happen to shake me up.  Something had to change.

So, I said no.  No bologna, no chips and no stops before home.  I'm going home.
I turned my car around and went to exit the parking lot.  As I waited to turn left I sat silently.  No radio, no phone in hand and nothing really in my head.  I was empty.  I looked to my right and it was clear.  I looked to my left and that was clear, but it wasn't.  A black chevy trailblazer was flying around the corner so fast that I didn't have a chance.  The only thing I could do was try to make it so that she didn't hit me right in the driver's side door.  I thought, she'll hit the back of me and not the front, but I didn't make it.  She hit Me, and I mean Me. She T-boned my car and all I heard was a pop and glass fall all around like confetti.  When I opened my eyes I was dazed and saw blood pooling on my arms where the glass broke.  I could move my legs, my arms, but my feet were wedged in the between the smashed in door and the pedals.

I was alive.

The police arrived quickly and were followed by the fire department and an ambulance.  The only way out of my car was through the passenger side and the firemen weren't gonna let me out by myself.  They were hell-bent on getting me to the hospital to check out my neck and back.  So they did, they locked me in a brace with straps around my legs and pulled me out without moving my neck and back.  I felt like a rag doll.

The other lady was fine. She complained right away of her shoulder but I remember seeing her walking and pacing later on.  She had already yelled and screamed at me for pulling out in front of her.

I spent a few hours at the hospital and cried harder than I think I had in a long time.

They say that you should have no regrets, but who the fuck are they anyway?

I only have one regret from that day, and that is that I let that one incident over a cookie and the ignorant words of someone who doesn't matter almost take me so far away that I wouldn't have come back.  I'm thankful and lucky things turned out the way I did, and I've learned so much about my own emotional health and what I need to do next.  The path is bumpy and it isn't always clear, but don't ever let anyone steer you away from where you're going, especially if its the right direction.  And for God's sake don't give them the wheel.

Drive safe and don't have an,

Oatmeal Raisin Cookie Crash

love,
Lea

I'm on the Wagon

Fuck.

I used to love to swear and be completely inappropriate but so many other dickheads and douche bags do it now that they're making it really uncool.  Thanks Jersey Shore.

Lately it seems to be "One of those days" every fucking day.  I do my best to get through them and just keep going.  If its the only option I give myself then that's the only thing that will happen.

Its not a secret that I struggle with my weight.  I always have, and maybe I always will.  But that's my problem, not yours.  I'm working on it.  Its taken me years to realize that the only person who can change your situation is you.  I can't help you, you can't help me.  We have to help ourselves.

I'd pretty much hit my lowest point last year and didn't know if I would ever get back on the ride that is my life.  I'd lost a lot of things and people that were really important to me, and even though I wanted to die, I was still living and the fucking world kept turning.  I had to keep going.

The truth was that I had taken so many positive steps forward to take like one hundred shallow narcissistic steps backwards.  When I didn't know where I was or what to do, I just quit.  I gave up and said fuck it.  I'm gonna go back to the old Lea and back to whats comfortable.

Eighty pounds later I found everything I was running from and when I had to look at it in the mirror I still hated it.

I left Michigan and moved to California to get away from everything and start over.

But, when I got here I was the same.  I still hated what I saw in the mirror.  Only this time I knew why I hated it so much.  I hated because I knew better.  I knew I was better than what I was being.  That flame never left me, it just kind of went to a flicker like a candle that's breathing its last breath.

I was breaking my own heart.

I had already let someone else break my heart, I had had the universe break my heart when I watched my mother leave this earth and now I was still breaking my own heart.  As if I hadn't had enough.

I am the truest glutton you'll ever meet.
I am the purest sinner I can be.

I was singing the same song to a friend of mine over Facebook because things weren't panning out as I had planned on my new adventure.  I was again talking to her about how much weight I had gained and how miserable I was.

She told me about this body challenge she was doing and that she wanted me to think about it.  Then typed this:
Can't stop thinking about you... So this challenge...I don't want to seem like I'm selling you, but I just keep coming back to your passion about healthy food and the power you have to impact soooo many people. This may not be what you were thinking when you dreamed your dream, but I think it is a vehicle that will get you there.

And I thought...Fuck it.  I might as well give it a shot.  I wanted to change, and I wanted to fix the situation that I was in.  I knew I had to quit drinking, I had to stop eating garbage and I had to take control of my health.  I was depressed and it was starting to really show.

So, I did.  I re lit my own flame and I was starting to feel good again.  I was starting to feel like I could make changes and that things didn't have to suck as much as I though they did.

I quit drinking at work with everyone else.  Alcohol does terrible things to me, I can acknowledge it now.  I started eating better and working out again.  I'm feeling better, more in control of myself and who I'd like to be.

People noticed, but they don't really understand my plight and here is why...

I hear these Bitches at work always talking about how they need to lose weight and they're tired of feeling bloated.  They ask me why I'm not drinking and as soon as I tell the why, they immediately project it onto themselves. "Oh, I should do that.  I really need to lose weight."

They say it time and time again and in many different ways.

What they don't understand is that this is who I am, I'm not looking for a quick fix to lose a quick 10 pounds.  I'm not trying to fit into a dress, or impress a man.  Or catch one for that matter.  Fuck that, when I'm ready for him he better be able to keep up with me.

I'm doing this because I want to live.  I watched diabetes, kidney disease, and heart failure kill my mother.  I watched her slowly kill herself.  This is what America is doing, we are slowly killing ourselves.

I have to do this for myself, for my sister, and for my mother.  I want my mothers legacy to live on.  She can still be beautiful, strong, and proud through me.  She can do this through me because she made me.  These are things I don't think she ever felt for herself and when I see her again I want to make sure she saw everything through my eyes.  Because just as I saw her tears, she can see mine.

Today we overcooked a flatbread and we couldn't serve it.  A girl server walked in and said, "well you guys can eat it or but that Bitch up and we'll all eat it."  Then she said "Well, I can't eat it, I shouldn't at least."  She looked at me and she said "I'm on the wagon."
I was immediately insulted, but just smiled at her.  Then she said "I'm on water and diet pills."
I wanted to slap this Bitch.  But, I didn't.  I looked at her and said "diet pills are so bad for you."
She said, "yeah, but they give me lots of energy!"

She left, but I knew that wouldn't be the last of her.

She came back later.  She walked into the kitchen and said, "I'm hungry.  I need something to eat, but it has to be healthy.  Like, it can't be fattening, like I need to eat just plain chicken."

The chef and I just stared at her.  We didn't really know what she wanted, she never really said.
I know the effort it takes to eat well when you work in a restaurant.  So, I looked at her and said "Girl, you need to plan for this better."
She immediately got defensive and tried to explain why she had no time to eat or bring her own food to work.
She got mad after that and said "Forget it! I'll just go order food somewhere else."
I called after her and I said "Why don't you just order a salad and add chicken. I can make that for you if you want."

She said okay.  This was my way of trying to make her happy and help her out even though the bitch never really said what she wanted.

Her ticket for her salad came in minutes later and it read

Mixed Green
-ADD CHICKEN
-ADD BACON
-ADD AVOCADO
-VINI

Fucking Wow!  This girl didn't get it and she'll never get me.

This is a lifestyle. This is who I am and who I want to be.  Its a choice I made for myself to be a better version of myself.  This isn't me trying to find a quick fix for right now.  Its me, trying to live my life.

So, I said...Fuck her.  Fuck the look she gave me when she shot her "On the Wagon" comment at me and fuck her for thinking she knows how to do what I do.  She doesn't and may not ever.  And I really don't care, but it reinforced all the things in me that I though were lost never to be seen again.  I've found myself again and I'm going to hold on to it this time.

I'll hold onto it because it's older, wiser, and stronger.  It's me and who I always was.  I just had to get back to it.  My dream was always there and it never went away.  My journey isn't over yet.  I feel like I've only just begun.

So, maybe I am...

On the Wagon

Whatever, the only person I have to worry about falling off is me.

Love,
Lea

Beer-icle Grow

I've been quietly struggling for a long time.  Peacefully succeeding and painfully failing.
It's not any one's fault but its just what happens to us.
We climb, and we fall.  Some of us get back up and some of us just have to lay there for a bit.  I feel like I've been laying here for a while.
Is it time to get back up?
I don't know.
I know that I want to be okay, but its hard to fake this one.
Almost everything I loved is gone.
But nothing was as hard as watching my mother take her last breath.
Nothing really matters after that.  You just keep going because you have to, and that's what everyone wants you to do.
But fuck them, I am not okay.  I can't pretend to be anymore.
It's rare that I have any breakthroughs anymore, it seems impossible to feel anything anymore.

It seems impossible to do anything.
But the professionals keep telling me to find the light, look for some kind of hope.  They want me to find the value in my life and in myself.

This isn't a happy place for me.  In fact it may be the darkest its ever been.

I could lie, but I'm really fucking bad at it and the raw truth is better than any bullshit lie.

Writing this seems to be the only way I can be honest with people, and myself.  Writing this seems the best way to dig myself out of it and into something else.

Because sitting in the dark like this isn't any fun.

Well, the other day I had a small breakthrough.

I know I have issues, everyone does.  I know that dealing with the loss of my only parent is going to take a long time.  I know that getting back on the weight loss wagon is going to be tough.
All of these things aren't impossible, they were just things I didn't want to grow up and deal with.
I couldn't, I was barely hanging on.

I had had an extremely drunken escapade that ended badly and was talking with my therapist about it.
I'm not afraid to admit I'm crazy.  I've got a circle of friends who are just as crazy as I am and would tell me to run with it.

So I am.

What I'm not willing to do is to keep poisoning myself as a way to distract me from the feelings I have.
I know I have to deal with them and I think I'm finally ready.

As I said, I was talking to my therapist and I was telling her that I needed to clean up my life.  I needed to stop the extracurricular activities I was engaging in.

I told her that I thought I had a problem.  I was angry, sad, lost and stuck in the dark all at the same time.

She asked me why I though that.

I said "Because I can't keep up like this, I can't keep getting blacked out drunk and expect to get better.  I can't expect a plant to grow if I keep trying to water it with beer...or vodka actually for that matter!"

And as soon as I said I understood what was happening to me.  I had been sitting there for months in this office trying to figure why everything happened and why I had such a hard time dealing with everything.

I had been clouding up my own vision for a long time and I had to stop.  I had to grow up and face what was in front of me or drown in a haze.
That's the easy way out and I've never taken that road.

This wasn't meant to be funny, but it was meant to be liberating.  I am not exclusive to these problems, we all deal with them.

I just deal with mine out loud.
And the sound of my fingers hitting keys is soothing.

The poison in my life has been long gone, and I had to let it go.
My mother is never coming back, but people tell me I'll see her again.
I see her when I look in the mirror.
I haven't forgot what a treadmill looks like or how it works, I just have to reintroduce myself.
Drinking doesn't solve my problems, it seems to only make them worse.
I will cook again, and I'll never forget how to use my knives.

There is a light, I see it, and I know that things will get better.

The sun is shining in the west.

I've said it many times to many people...This is just a moment, it won't last forever.

And I know that there is no such thing as...

Beer-icle Grow

Love
Lea

Meatloafed...

A while ago I saw an old friend. She said something very important to me that night, she said "You're different, you seem...not like the old you I used to remember. You used to have this fire and spark that I admired about you so much. What's happened to you?"

I didn't know what to tell her. So much had changed since the last time I saw her and I really didn't know where to start. I could have spilled my guts and told her the truth but honestly, I didn't know what the truth was anymore.

I looked at her and I said "I guess I'm just tired."

That was true, I was tired. I had been in a battle so long with myself, my friends, my job and food that everything had exhausted me and I was running out of steam.

I really did do the best I could for a long time, but I could feel the bend and I knew that I would break eventually.

I didn't know who I was anymore. I probably over thought about this for a long time, but I had too. I wanted to know why it bothered me so much.

Day in and day out the same things over and over again. I was praying for an explosion. Being too good for too long is never a good thing for me and I still haven't learned how to handle it yet.

The yogis keep telling me it's about balance and the devil told me not to give a fuck, we might as well have a good time.

Fuck the yogis and fuck the Devil.

They don't know shit about me.

So, I threw caution to the wind and let it all blow up. I felt like I was running into the same wall over and over again so I figured the only way through it was to blow it up and start over.

I needed a break, I needed some time away. I needed to figure out a new plan, the old plan wasn't working anymore and I really didn't know who I was anymore.

I can fight temptation all I want, but sometimes I can't win. I have to give in.

I had been following a strict diet plan for so long that I felt horrible about everything I ate. I had abstained from a lot of things that were bad for me, or might open a door towards temptation.

This includes alcohol, drugs, men and bad food.

All things I love.

I had been sad for a long time and I couldn't really shake it. I hadn't really tried either though, but I knew the sadness would eventually subside and I would really want to shake it off. I knew I would come up with a new plan and I would get back on track when I was ready.

Until then I finally realized the one thing I needed the most. I could eat all the bad food I wanted and drink like a fish but until I got what I actually wanted I wouldn't feel satisfied.

And sometimes you just gotta give into temptation, and I was hungry for one thing...

Meatloaf.

I don't know why, but I love it. I hardly ever eat it, and its total comfort food but I wanted it, bad.

I wanted meat, I really needed MEAT.

Yes, exactly what you're thinking...I needed it.

I was at work the other day and I was talking to a co worker. It had been a long day and we usually say goodbye over an end of the day chat. I like these chats, they make me feel human. Sometimes they make me laugh, I haven't laughed or really smiled in a long time.
The only thing I could think of was...meatloaf.

I told him how bad I wanted meatloaf.

He said "You can have meatloaf, you can make it yourself and it's not that bad. You might even be able to use turkey!"

It had occurred to me that I had been denying myself red meat, and I really wanted some.
He was trying to type "meatloaf" into the search and he said "doh, meatloaf, not meatload."

We both laughed.

I laughed so hard that I almost peed my pants. I couldn't stop and I really couldn't stop thinking about it now. It was too funny.

He finally showed me his favorite recipe online and we printed it off.
The next day he asked me if I had had meatloaf.
I hadn't yet.
So the day after that, I had had it. I was done fighting it, I really needed to get meatloafed.

I came home from work and cleaned the kitchen thinking about meatloaf. I also thought about how I needed to get a "meatload". I can't help it, I'm human. I'm also honest.

I know it's simple and people have it all the time, but to me this time it was special.
I did it. I made it, and it was beautiful. It looked like it belonged in a magazine and it tasted even better than I have ever had or ever remembered.

I didn't binge, or gorge myself. It was perfect. The piece I cut for myself was just enough to leave me in bliss.

I know it wouldn't last forever but at least I would feel it for tonight and I can appreciate that now.

When I was done I felt like I was really ready go forward. I was ready to start to let go of all the past shit and figure out what to do next.

I had been praying for salvation and wishing for an answer, but I didn't know that I would get it until I got what I needed all along.

I needed to give into temptation and really, really get properly "meatloafed"

Love,
Trixie

Funeral Cake

Sometimes things don't always go according to plan.
We bite off more than we can chew.
We get a little bit more than we can bargain for.
We take a gamble on something or someone and sometimes we win, sometimes we lose.


I lost.

And I won.

I'm still figuring it out actually. I'm also still trying to figure out how to put it all in words. I still can't and I don't want to try anymore. It's not worth it and now that I got to the bottom of what I always knew was true I realize that it never was.

I probably look like a fool, but my good friend Esperanza says that I'm a gorgeous fool.
I love it and I'll take it.

An ex-friend of mine once yelled at me while he was drunk, he said "Why can't you just enjoy right now and what is? Why do you have to bring up the future and think too much into things!"

I didn't know how to answer him, but after having an already deteriorating situation blow up by way of my finger on the detonator, I can say that it's just who I am.

I keep an eye out for moments or moments with people. I have too, I know that nothing lasts forever and I want to savor what I can.

These moments mean everything to me even if they mean nothing to you. Everyone goes away and things change for a reason.

I never know when it's going to happen, but I try to be prepared for it. It would be criminal of me to not let it happen, to not fall in love with anything, to not try anything new, to not endure what's inevitable. How will I ever learn?

Everybody makes promises they can't keep and everybody has conditions when it comes to accepting things. I have yet to meet anyone who has fully accepted the good and the bad when it comes to me. That's okay, every time this happens I get a little bit smarter.
I have to figure out why it was memorable and why it was bad so I can avoid it next time.

I just want to know why it was memorable.

The same way you do with an amazing dish or meal. Whether it's really good or really bad you will never forget it. You can't help but think about it.

Even if you want to forget about it, you're still thinking about it.

I love to make cake. I love to eat cake and every year for my birthday I want only one thing, a birthday cake with candles so that I can make a wish. My wish is always the same year after year, in one way or another I wish to fall in love with myself.

Just as I have with so many other things that have come and gone in my life.

I might love cake as much as I love macaroni and cheese.

At least I love something.

I enjoy making cakes for people because most people can appreciate the effort that goes into making a beautifully made and decorated cake. As an awakening artist I look at my cakes as something I create rather than just as something I make.

Everyone can be an artist.

Sometimes I think I missed my calling...

An old friend of mine a while ago gave me a compliment. I had made him a cake and after only smelling it he said "Your cake makes my dick hard."

I can appreciate this type of comment, it was the best thing he could've said.

It was my birthday a while back and I felt like I celebrated my birth, died and was reborn all in a matter of days.

It was agony. It was refreshing. It was inevitable.

I'm still not sure where to go from here, but I know that I'm still going and I'm not ready to give up yet.

There were some dark days, they were my fault.

Although, I did think about my death. I though about what it would be like if I died. I wanted to die.
My brain automatically went to food. I though about my funeral and if people would be sad if I was gone. I know they would be, because I'd be sad if I lost you.

And then I asked...Why is there always Birthday Cake, but no Funeral Cake.

I thought about funerals and all the shit food that people bring to them.

Think about it, you're already sad over the loss of a loved one or friend, why would you eat anything they served you at a funeral.
Its awful. It's usually heavy, starchy, greasy and covered in cheese.

Sounds like a dream come true!

Not for me.

I want cake at my funeral, I want you all to eat cake. I want you to indulge in the bittersweet of my death. If you're going to be sad I at least want you eat some amazing cake and know that if I were alive, I would be right there with you.

Make my cake beautiful, for all the times I never felt it. Make it white and layered like a wedding cake, just in case I never get to have one. Fill it with chocolate fudge and vanilla cream because it's my favorite. Make the butter cream layer Swiss because its the best, and please add chocolate covered strawberries to it because they are so simple, yet say so much when you eat them. Cover it in layers of fondant to cover any minor imperfections it may have. Decorate it with hand made red roses for romance.
Lastly put one candle in the top of it for me, and one in your piece.
When you finally get your piece of cake blow out your candle make a wish for yourself because I'm wishing for you too.
I'm wishing that you always find some kind of magic and love in yourself.
I'm wishing that you never give up hope in anything.
I'm wishing that you find the freedom from all the things that are holding you down.
I'm wishing that if anyone makes you feel bad that you can still look past it and see the good in them.
I'm wishing that you learn from everything you can.
And lastly I'm wishing that even if things go bad you can always find a way start over.

That's a lot of wishes.
But there's a lot of me!

This isn't the end, just a minor breakdown.

Sometimes it feels like the end, but it can always be a new beginning.

I'm not saying I'm ready to go, but if I had to go I would want you all to enjoy some...


Funeral Cake.

Love,
Trixie

Oh Little Lea!

This one is actually kind of serious, but I promise to keep it real.
When I was little they used to call me Little Lea, and I fucking hated it!
So they then called me Little Maggie instead after my mom. I think I hated that more.

My family doesn't really understand the whole Trixie thing.
It's the same fight, they don't know why I like the name or where it came from. They just know that they sometimes don't like her and the things she does.

They love Lea, they love everything about her. Lea was pleasing, she was funny, she was nice no matter what and she didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Lea didn't really tell the truth though. A lot of you have seen this birth or evolution of Trixie and think you may know when it happened, but the truth is...she was always there. I can't give away the full story of the name because I believe that some things are meaningful and sacred and they are just for me.
Here is another TRUTH...
I didn't like Lea. I hated her.
Trixie has a lot of the good qualities that Lea had, it was all the bad I was trying to get rid of.
My methods may be extreme and for all the wrong reasons but I'm not a quitter and I will keep my word. I will get the damn job done.

Trixie thinks, Trixie says, Trixie does...

We look up to other people and its okay, right? We look up to famous people for fucks sake. Why couldn't I create somebody like this in myself. I knew a long time ago I didn't like who I was. I just didn't know how to make everyone stop force feeding me bullshit. Emphasis on feeding.
Makes sense now right? Who said there are rules...?

Fuck the rules, I'm gonna break them anyways.
And I'm gonna fight until the day I die, because I believe in this more than I have ever believed or loved anything in my entire life.

I think this is always who I was and it was something that had to happen.
A couple of assholes helped out, so thanks ASSHOLES you know who you are! But really it takes an individual a long time to figure out what they want or who they are. It then takes even longer to realize how to attain it. How to achieve your goal. It's up to the individual.
We're all just people in this world and we're all just trying to make it, right? I forget that sometimes.
I said to someone last week "I really feel like life gave me the shit end of the stick and tried to shove it in my ass." Who is ever really ready for that?
What do you do? Who do you become? When are you content with your life?
I have so many questions still and I don't know if they'll ever get answered.

It's a fucking mystery sometimes.

What I have figured out is who I want to be and some of the things I want to do. I know that I don't want to worry if I've made someone mad or pissed them off. When I do something stupid I would hope that someone tells me. Don't worry he usually does, she does too!

I want to do the same thing for everyone that I love, because I do. I fucking love all of you.

Sometimes when I'm around my family or old friends I have to turn off Trixie and she hates that. It has to be done to an extent, I can't leave a trail or bloodbath everywhere I go.

The World needs me.

Saturday, I saw a lot of people. More people than I wanted to. I saw my family, other members of my family and another family that is like my family.
When you're Mexican and you live in a community with other Mexican families you become attached. You become one giant family and it doesn't change. Somehow you all know each other through someone else. You will always be treated like family no matter how old you get or how far away you move. It doesn't matter that you don't even know half of them, they will still welcome you with open fucking arms. They usually have a plate of food waiting in one hand and a beer in the other but it's all for you.

It's actually an incredible feeling. I had distanced myself from it for so long that I forgot what it was like.

Saturday I stopped to see one of my oldest friends and a bunch of her family was visiting from Florida and other States. The ladies were all on the porch, the children were chasing each other everywhere and the men were in the back yard at a table covered in empty beer bottles.
The whole scene made me smile. It brought back happy memories.

I asked my old friend what she did for the day and who everyone was. She filled me in and she said "You should have gotten here earlier, we had Menudo."
Menudo, a piece of every Mexican.

It's a slightly spicy, broth soup with hominy and tripe. Tripe the edible part of the cow's stomach. It has to be cleaned and boiled because it's so chewy. It's texture is similar to calamari.

I wanted some. It's not as high in calories as you would think, but it is high in memories for me so if I ever get the chance to eat it I will.

One of my old friends aunts heated me up a bowl and set it in front of me with chopped onions, lime wedges and a plate of corn tortillas.
She served me so much and told her not too much, but she looked at me and rolled her eyes. She said "Thats hardly anything, you should eat more."

I smiled at her and graciously picked up my spoon.

It was good. It was warm and spicy. I felt like I did in my childhood years. I though about my mom, my grandma, and I thought about myself. I felt at ease and calm for a second.

Then I looked up and saw a little girl run past me.

She had to be about seven years old. She had long dark hair in a ponytail with multi-colored ribbons hanging from it.
She had chubby cheeks and she was so cute.
She was so fucking cute!
She was so fucking fat!
She was me, she was Little Lea.

She looked at me and she said "I have to pee!"

I laughed at her and she smiled back at me.
I didn't even know who's kid she was, but I was already in love with her because she reminded me of myself at that age.

She walked out of the bathroom fixed her skirt, and pulled her extremely stretched too thin shirt over her belly. I could not stop smiling at her.

She ran back outside to play and I watched her for a bit.

I visited a bit longer, ate everything else they kept trying to feed me and then said my goodbyes.

I said goodbye to my friend and I waved goodbye to the little girl. She looked at me like she had something to say but she just smiled. She waved and yelled goodbye.
Then she yelled something that wasn't English or Spanish and she came running at me.

I opened my arms and she hugged me. She said goodbye and I didn't want to let go.

I wanted to hold her for a minute. I wanted to give her all my hopes, all my dreams and everything I've learned up until now. I wanted her to have these things so that she doesn't have to learn them the hard way. I wanted her to know that someday she would understand why things were they way they were and that she would be strong and old enough to change them. I wanted to make sure that someday she would wake up and feel amazing and realize how much she was worth and how much she deserved.

She was just a child, and what did I know. Maybe she wont have to learn all the things I did.
I let her go and she smiled at me. She went back to chasing her brother or cousin or whatever he was, who knows with all those damn kids.

I got in my car and drove home. I cried when I was halfway home.
It was far away enough from everyone, but not close enough to what is expected of me.
It was safe.

It was like what I felt as a child, I just wanted to feel safe because I didn't know how to change anything.

It reminded me of what I was doing and what all this struggle was for. It gave me some direction and some closure. I let go of some of the anger I was holding onto for so long.

I hated being called Little Lea when I was younger so they started calling me Little Maggie instead.
I don't know which was worse but I know now that it was something that had to happen so that I could be this person I am today.

Oh Little Lea!

Please take care of yourselves because I need you and I love you. And that is not wrong or unacceptable.

Trixie

Bechamel is a code for FATTY SAUCE!

God Damn IT!

So yesterday I decided that today would be the start of a new way for me. I can't lie, I've been resorting to some old fatty ways and they are consuming me.

By the way....dear best friend/trainer/mentor whatever the Hell you still are...I lied to you. Just getting it out now. I'm not proud. You may never read this, but I was embarrassed so I lied.

I was convinced that it might be my surroundings or my job. Its not, its me. I have the the ability to control how I let things affect me. I have total control of what I put into my body.

You should all know this, you're all smart kids right?
You'd be amazed at how many people are oblivious as to what they are eating on a day to day basis.

As someone who is trained to work with food and now has a degree in nutrition I feel compelled to share some things with you.

I decided that all white foods have to be taken out of my diet. No white flour, white sugar, white potatoes, or white rice. I seriously need to clean up my act. Really, I've been such a bad girl. And not in the "down and dirty way", but the "I would like to disown myself way".
I posted this on facebook. The actual post said:

starting tomorrow I'm swearing off all things white! Well, except for white boys.

Don't anyone ever ask me to give up White Boys. I just can't and there are a lot of White Boys out there that still need me. God wants me to rock their world. And I will, but white foods have gots to go.

I love them more than you do so imagine how hard this is on me.
Well some Fuck-O decided to be funny and he commented on my post.
He wrote: Bechamel?

Really Asshole? Bechamel? Bechamel is just a code for fatty sauce.
I don't eat Bechamel and neither should anyone else. Bechamel is a WHITE Sauce. Its made with butter and white flour and Milk. Then people add cheese and other fatty shit to it to make it taste amazing, but its still high in calories and not good for fatty pants all over the world.

There are signs people, codes all over the food you eat and on the menus of the restaurants we eat at every day.

Now, he didn't mean to be an asshole but I'm an honest Bitch and I live in the moment and I call them how I see them.

It got me thinking, people need to know this. I have to help people...if I don't who will? So here it is....my list of food and menu triggers.

Bechamel is usually a milk or cream based sauce.
Beurre is just French for butter. So if it says beurre by your steak that means its a big fat steak covered in butter sauce. But I'm the asshole, right? No, I'm actually trying to save your life!
Hollandaise is another Bastard of a sauce. Its made with clarified butter and and egg yolks. Its delicious and sexy but its the one you really have to watch out for.
Frites is french for fried. If I have to go on and explain this to you, then you don't deserve to be my friend. I mean really...
Bacon, Pork, Sausage, the poor piggy gets a bad rap. He can't help it that he is one of the fattiest animals on the planet, but he does have some parts of him that are healthier than others.
Poached, poached eggs are great. Olive Oil poached salmon or oil poached potatoes, not so much. That's really just adding unnecessary fat to your food.
Breaded or Crusted means that they are adding some kind of bread crumb or white starch and then probably frying it.
Dressing is another one. Make sure you ask what kind it is. Some Fuck-O's like to add bacon fat and butter to a dressing that could be kept simpler with a healthier oil.
Watch out for the word "Sauce"period. Odds are that it's a mayonnaise, butter, cream, or other dairy based product sauce. Its high in calories and your arteries will thank you later on.

Its not bad to eat these things every now and then, but know what its doing to your body. Know how much you're eating and don't be seduced by the word trickery of someone else.

I'm sure my chef/foodie friends are cursing me right now, but this is important and I can't believe how many people I see day to day eating things they shouldn't. This includes me and lots of other people. I want to tell them and plead with them but I can't. I can only worry about me and currently it's a lot to worry about.

I work at a bakery. I know what its like.

I could go on and on forever but this is the important stuff.

I succeed, I fail, I do it over and over again, but I will never completely give up because I've learned. As long as I keep learning and keep going, I can't see how that's wrong. I'm not perfect, but I do have control of me. I have to remind myself of this before I start to spiral out of control.

The other day I felt like I was done, I was over. I'm not, I have to keep going. I can't forget about all those White Boys who still need me. Ironic huh?


I need them. I need all of you.



We all need each other and now we all know...

Bechamel is a code for FATTY SAUCE!

Fuck It and Good Night!
Trixie

French Fry, Denied.

I often ask myself out loud "Lea when are you ever going to learn?"
I don't know if I ever will and I don't know if I ever want to. Having a good time and making messes and trouble for myself is a lot of work but sometimes I really just do it so I can feel alive you know?
Is it better to feel something even if it hurts or to feel nothing at all?
That seems to have been the question of my life so far...but I hope that that changes soon.
Not to be all serious and depressing but its been a rough year on this girl so far and sometimes its too much for me to handle. It makes me really appreciate the ones around me that keep me going and help me out. I know I'm a lot to handle sometimes and everyone has their own shit to deal with. A lot of people think they really know me, but I don't know if they do.

Sometimes, I don't know who I am.

The one that does have to deal with me and does know me very well if my faithful life companion, my dog Max.
Yes, that little asshole that I complain about so much. He is one of the good things in my life, he's awfully needy and high maintenance, but I don't mind the work.

Max kind of fell in my lap, and he is one of the good things that happened to me last year. Max knows all of my dirty little secrets and he knows how I'm feeling all the time. He needed someone to love him, just like I did. Yes, I said it...........I want someone to love me.
I'm still a tough Bitch, but even tough Bitches like me need to know that someone cares. Anyone who says they don't is a fucking liar.
I realized not that long ago that I am just me. I am not like anyone else nor do I want to be like anyone else. Max understands this and he gets me. He really does.

He's there when I'm sad, he's hiding under the bed when I'm really mad. He even still loves me when I'm hungover, and I couldn't ask for anything more out of him.

He has never called me a loser or made me feel like a failure. He has never made me do anything I don't want to and he has never told me that 'I was no longer needed in his life because I offered him nothing'


The best thing about Max is that he does not judge me. At least I thought he didn't...

Not that long ago I woke up hungover and had to go visit my mom for the day. Visiting my mom is sometimes rough so I was really trying to get it together and focus on the day. It was a long drive and I felt like shit.

The one thing that always makes me feel better after a night of drinking is French Fries. Those imported little fried sticks of gold...wait. They're not imported? And they're not made of gold?

Someone has been lying to me my whole life!

Okay, I'm not retarded, I know that french fries are bad for you, but who are we kidding...they are delicious and I love them.

I gave up french fries a while ago because they are another one of Satan's tricks he uses to woo me back into his arms. He uses chicken fingers too, in case you're wondering.

For me, desperate times call for desperate measures and I was feeling awful. So, I stopped at the nearest dealer named McDonald's and got a quick fix.

I take my dog with me most places. I'm not one of those "dumb-carry-my-pooch-a-purse-hoes" but he is that asshole that likes to stick his head out the window when we go places. So, I take him.

I got my fries, knowing very well that I didn't need them, I know better. I should not have drank so much. I knew damn well that I had to see my mom and this would require a lot of energy. Sorry, I love you mom...but sometimes its work with you.

I reached into that white bag of fresh grease and took out one fry. Grease always helps a hangover and when I feel that bad I will do anything to get rid of it.

I almost dove right in and started eating away, but I remembered Max and thought that I was being an uber fatty. Why hadn't I thought to share with him? What a selfish Fatty I was...

I still had that one fry in my hand and reached over and gave it to Max.

Most dogs would inhale it, but not mine. He's an asshole and he knows he has to keep me in check. He is my mental last resort when everyone else is gone.

It sounds crazy but I often find myself bargaining with the damn dog about stuff.

He looked at the fry, then he looked at me, then he looked away.

He wouldn't even look at me. I have hit fatty rock bottom. I couldn't even turn my dog into an enabler.

That fucking little asshole wouldn't eat the fry I was offering him.

I don't think that little shit machine would have ate if I had cut it up on a silver platter and fed it to him with a knife and fork.

I went crazy in my head because I felt awful. I know what drinking like that does to me and I know that I don't need to eat like that.

I've come to far to go back over a fry.

If this was Max's attempt at an intervention with me it worked.

I got rid of the fries and somehow Max seemed happier with me.

Trying to lose weight isn't easy and I've learned the hard way that you need support. It's almost impossible to do all by yourself. At that time I felt the only one I had was my dog, but I still had myself. In the back of my mind I knew it. It took a moment of crazy and a little shit machine named Max, but I got through it.

Find a few you can trust and hold onto them. If you're a fatty, and I mean fatty at anything whether its eating, drinking, smoking, or just being overall scandalous remember that you have to learn how to trust yourself and what you really want.

And remember my dog Max.

This is what he would say:

French Fry, Denied.

Love,
Trixie

Fuck You Captain Sundae!

It's been a while hasn't it?

Feels like ages since I've had anything valid to share. That's kind of a lie, I've actually had lots happen I just had to get my head back together to figure things out.

I moved out on my own and am trying to adjust to living solo. It's been interesting. The only person that is judging me now is me. I can do whatever I want. Its awesome, and its really bad. I can admit now that the first week I lived on my own I ate really shitty, like pizza and cheap sandwich cookie shitty. I couldn't bring myself to finish them all. I did throw them away before I almost ate them all. I felt awful but there was no one there to tell me no. I thought, what the hell? I have to live with myself and that's why I threw it away.

Fatty needed a fix.

I've readjusted since then and am headed back to a good head space. Nothing is easy and no one pushes me harder than I push myself.

Not that long ago I went to watch one of my employees softball games. It was her first game of the season and I wanted to support her. She keeps me in line, I wanted to see her play. Well we were supposed to go to a place called Pizza Ranch. Well, I being the paranoid Bitch that I am decided it would be a good idea to check out the menu. Here is what it said:

Mile-long Buffet™

How hungry are ya?

It's a spread fit for a cowboy! Dig into our huge selection of Pizza Lover's Pizza®, plus the Country's Best Chicken®, hot mashed taters and gravy, vegetables, salad and potato wedges. Then mosey on over to the dessert pizzas including our famous Cactus Bread®. And fer the little ones, we've got puddin'!

I looked at it and almost lost it. It was like my nightmare come true. My friend was standing next to me while I looked at this menu and he said "Oh no, Lea...I can't even walk in there and if I can't go in there than you really can't." I could have been insulted but he was right. I knew there was absolutely no way I could go in there and remain composed.

I quickly sent a text to my other friend I was going with and told her that I was sorry but I couldn't go to a buffet. She said she understood and told me it was okay. She said "Don't forget to save room for ice cream though!"

Fuck me! I forgot about ice cream after the game. Its not really a night out at a game without ice cream afterward. I really wanted the ice cream too.

Well, if I was gonna have ice cream then I was gonna have to justify it and make it worth it.

I had to plan for something like that. I decided that if I was going to eat ice cream that I would have to be really good that day and not eat anything else. Well, I ate but I had to be careful because I know how many calories are in an ice cream sundae, a lot.

I sent a text to my trainer/mentor/coach/best friend asking him if it was okay if I ate ice cream if I ate nothing else that day, but he was too busy to respond to me, and I needed to get through this one on my own. I'm the independent type and I hate asking him for too much, but that's what I hired him for. That asshole would have told me no anyways, so whatever. If it had been a Grey Goose Martini, he would have said yes though. Just for the record.

It was all good. I had a plan....not eat all day and then have just a little ice cream.

The game was fun and then we headed to a place called Captain Sundae.

It was like ice cream heaven...I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I walked up to look at the menu and expected to see the standard. I was so wrong.

I walked up and saw a menu like a cocktail list. I felt like I was picking a designer martini. It had like 30 different types of ice cream cocktails. They were all themed.

I chose the Salty Dog. I figured that since I liked that drink, I would probably like the sundae.

It had vanilla ice cream; malt powder; chocolate syrup; peanut butter cups; crushed pretzels and whipped cream on top.

Dont forget the cherry.

For a fatty like me...I almost wet myself at the table. I don't know who Captain Sundae was but I wanted him bad. I wanted minutes, hours, days alone with him so I could thank him over and over again.

It was instant euphoria. Really, if I hadn't been in public I would have thrown the ice cream on the floor and rolled around in it...naked. It was cold that day too.

I ate it so fast, it was like I forgot that I was in front of people. I let Captain Sundae take over me and he could have had his way with me right there in front of everyone.

Thank God I don't live in Hudsonville.

Well here it was Father's Day and fatty pants was having a bad day. Apparently I have daddy issues and they would just not go away that day. What a day for them to show up huh?

We all know that girls with daddy issues either end up huge sluts or fatties. Lucky me, I got the best of both worlds. Thanks Daddy!

So, the only thing that I wanted to eat that day was tacos and ice cream, and then I remembered Captain Sundae. That asshole had dug his creamy pretzels under my skin and he wouldn't let go. He was wooing me with peanut butter cups and I didn't want to like it but I did. The only thing that would make Captain Sundae that much better was if he were white and blonde.

Can't help it, its my kryptonite.

Captain Sundae is so good at what he does, it wouldn't matter what he looked like.

So, here I was trying to do anything I could to not think of Captain Sundae! I cleaned, I took my dog to the park, I called my mom. I texted my trainer/mentor/coach/best friend.

I finally sat down in my car listening to my cry baby dog panting like crazy and I realized that I needed to pull it together. I needed to get tough, I needed to be the Bitch that I was. I was not going to give in to Captain Sundae! I thought about it, I thought about driving all the way to Hudsonville so I could see him and have him give me what I wanted, but I didn't.

I turned off my phone, so I could truly be alone and just ride it out. I had to, in the back of my mind I knew I was better than that. I was better than a moment of weakness. I've worked too hard and I wasn't willing to give up. A year ago might have been a different story...

I went home, cooked healthy food and hula hooped for what seemed like an eternity.

I realized that what I needed was to sweat out the crazy. Sweating gets out toxins, and exercise releases endorphins.

The fight between myself and Captain Sundae left me breathless and tired. In the end though I won.

So,

Fuck You Captain Sundae!

Love,

Trixie

Corn Addiction...

I can't help myself sometimes...

I was at home depressed because I had a part of a cookie today, and I shouldn't be but I am. I know I work really hard and I am putting in two hours a day at the gym and I'm beginning to see results again finally but its not enough for me.

I want to be skinny, I want to know what it feels like because I never have and maybe its just a pipe dream, like I'm working at something I'm never gonna get but I can't believe that or I would have to give up.
When you're really big like I was, its hard to eat stuff like cookies in front of people. Its hard to eat anything, I judge myself enough. I don't want to know what everyone else is thinking.

You all have seen me, you know I've worked really hard. I don't want to take any steps backwards, so I feel like I have to be really hard on myself.

I have to believe that at the end of all this, I'm gonna get what I want and hopefully what I deserve. It seems fair right? That damn prize at the end is gonna be awesome, and I'm prepared to work HARD for it.

There has to be something amazing out there for me.

Everyone goes through their shit to get to the good stuff.

Well I've discovered that as you start to change your lifestyle and your eating habits your whole body changes. You start to crave weird things, healthier things than you used to. Then you find out that those potato chips or that cookie you wanted so bad really wasn't a good idea. It will make you feel like crap. My stomach hurts so bad right now I want to throw up. Not because I feel bad for eating it, don't get me wrong...
For me eating a sexy rich buttery cookie is like waking up from a regretful one night stand. Trust me I've done both.
It seems like a really good idea when you want it but later on your like wait, Maybe that wasn't such a good idea. God I hope this doesn't give me diarrhea...?
My stomach feels bad because I just filled it like a whore full of shit that I'm not used to eating anymore. Butter, sugar, chocolate, I can feel it all rolling up my throat.
The only choice is to ride out that bad feeling and deal with what you've done.

So, lately the only thing I've been wanting to eat is Corn. I can't get enough of it...I would take it in the morning, the afternoon, and even in the middle of the night. I wake up wanting it, salivating...I don't get it. Its just Corn. We're all human, and some of us just want a little Corn.
Its healthy to want to Corn, right? I mean, you can try different kinds, and have it different ways until you figure out what you like. Sometimes its even different sizes!
Popcorn, Caramel Corn, and Kettle Corn. Don't forget about the Latina in me who loves her HOminy!
This Food Whore loves it all.
The way I like it best it just plain. Its the right flavor, and it is definitely the right size.
Besides its sugar and starchiness its actually healthy. And, if you buy the frozen corn which I do then its not packed with sodium. I wish it had more protein though............

I want it so bad that I start to feel bad about it. Why, its Corn, its not really that bad for you. Its like fiber and it comes out the shape it went in. It makes me feel full, and it helps get rid of all the crap.
I like everything about it...the smell, the taste, the way it sounds when its in the pan. I don't even mind if it gets a little roughed up! I love the excitement I get as I'm waiting for it to get done....
I can't help it.
Then I get to eat it.

Okay, so its not really a vegetable, but come on...live in the Grey area with me for a minute.
I promise I'll show you a good time.

This really is a good thing. Eating Corn is a good thing because then I feel lighter and I walk a little taller. This is good for fatties, we need any kind of encouragement we can get.

Like High School Girls with low self esteem, we'll take whatever!

So, I finally decided that I had had enough! I was gonna quit corn! No more late night Corn for this Bitch!
No more breakfast Corn, afternoon Corn....NO MORE!
Why did I feel so bad about something so good.....!?
I did though, and I didn't know why.
The other night I came home and Roomie was cooking some Corn. I walked in and I yelled "YOU'RE cooking corn!" She said "yes, and......you can cook some Corn too if you want."
She had no idea how addicted I was to Corn and that I wanted to quit my addiction.
I said "I can't have any Corn, I've been having too much of it lately, I told myself I was gonna slow down. OHHHHH! I WANT SOME THOUGH!!!"
She looked at me like I was crazy and she laughed, she said "its just Corn!"
I said "its too late to eat, I just can't"

I walked away ashamed, and I couldn't explain why because I didn't know why...

I waited about an hour for her to go to bed, and then I went into the kitchen, turned on the stove, pulled the bag out of the freezer and proceeded to cook some Corn.
I seasoned it and put the tiniest smudge of soy butter on it and I ate it.......
I felt guilty, I felt bad....................but it felt so good.
That small bowl of corn was the best bowl I ever ate.

I could never really give it up, especially when it makes me feel so good to fight it so hard.
I can't help it I like the work, I like the hunt and I am enraptured with the final kill.
Its the thrill of the final surrender.
I know what you're thinking...........What...a...Whore...
Its just Corn, and I need to learn how to not be so hard on myself, this is not an easy lifestyle, if it were then everyone would do it.

You can never have too much of a good thing, who cares how sinful it is or isn't, don't worry I "Corn" responsibly.

There is nothing wrong with a little corn....
and so what if it becomes a

Corn Addiction.

Love,
Trixie

Heavy Duty...

Well, it has been just too long hasn't it?
I must apologize for my absence I was caught between the voice of reason(a bitch) and reality(an asshole). It wasn't fun and has been extremely difficult but the war is almost over and it looks like I'm winning.
What am I winning you ask? I got myself back and the freedom to do whatever the hell I want. And I won the freedom to make mistakes and my own choices, to get back to what I know and what I want and the ones that I have missed and make me happy.

Everything is all mine...I take it all, the good and the bad.

I have always said: I am no ones poster child.

I feel the need to share something, sort of like a PSA.

I love people because they amuse me. We say the dumbest shit. I do it myself, just drink with me for one night and you'll know what I'm talking about.

So, I work at a bakery. I've said it before and I will say it again, its really fucking hard to lose weight and control yourself when you have to see it everyday. I'm doing it though and I'm finding success again thanks to the help of a few individuals. I am grateful...

Well at this bakery we make Tuna salad. Well, actually the Retail staff makes it and I hear at least one person a day say "Mayonnaise is so disgusting. I hate it, its got to be like so bad for you. Just listen to it, it even sounds gross." Then they shake the container to you can hear every ounce of fat hitting the sides. They laugh and they think its funny to bitch about it.
I find it really annoying, because people are dumb! We constantly act oblivious and do all the wrong things. We do them even though we know its bad for us.

Well, you know me and I rarely hold my tongue, especially when it comes to food.

I got mad and I finally said "Hey guess what? Mayonnaise is bad for you, look at the fucking label...what does it say? How many calories are in a serving of that shit." The poor retail child stopped what he was doing and looked at the label. He said "Oh my God there is 100 calories per serving!" I said "Thats right, do you even know what is in that gallon sized container of crap that has been touched by Satan?" He said "no" I said "but you eat it right? And you like it? But, then you complain everyday about how gross its got to be....yes?"
He shook his head yes to all of my questions.
I said "see, the problem is that people have no idea of what they put into their bodies until its too late. Then you have to try and fix all the damage you've done."
We do it with food, alcohol, people, feelings all that shit. We allow toxic shit into our lives and bodies.

This poor kid stood silent.

I said "See, the irony of all of this is that the warning is on the label."
He said "I don't see a warning..."
I said "Yes, its right there. It says Heavy Duty. Why would you put anything into your body that says Heavy Duty? You put heavy duty stuff into your car, or a machine. Do not put it into your body."
He looked at me like I had just told him the meaning of life or something.
He said "I never thought of it that way, wow its really, really gross to me now."

Hello?! This isn't new information, mayonnaise especially out of the gallon sized container is not really good for you. Read the label, I can't even pronounce the preservatives.

Don't do it people, don't put anything into your body that says, Heavy Duty or Industrial Strength.
Its not worth it and its no bueno.
Trust me I put enough of that crap in my body for years and now I have to work twice as hard everyone else.

Be smart, make the right decisions for yourself and don't let anyone control what you put into your body. That includes your mind too. There are crazy Bitches out there that will feed you whatever they can to get you to change. But, its not up to them. It is all yours.

Look for the signs and take care of yourself. Don't put too much of anything into your body that says..........

Heavy Duty

And if anyone has a problem with that, you can tell them Trixie said so.

Love
Trixie

Fruity Pebble Meltdown...

Sometimes you have to give in, you have to let go and you realize that you're gonna fall. So, do you try to do it gracefully or just let go and hope you don't eat shit.

I know myself pretty well and I know when I'm about to fall off. I can always feel a breakdown, sometimes I can push it back until I have time to deal with it. Then things happen and make me so angry and they seem to happen so fast that the best thing for me to do is take it out on myself.
I would rather implode in myself, than explode all over you.

I have become self destructive.

I'm not proud of this, but it seems like there is no other way.
This one had been building for a few months now and I could give you specific reasons why, but they're not really important. They're just minor details. Just know that a lot of shit happened all at once, and I couldn't handle it anymore. I know what you're thinking, Shame on you Lea for letting the bullshit of others affect, you're supposed to be stronger than that.

NEWSFLASH: sometimes I'm not, I get exhausted of always trying to handle every situation the right way, so I resort to my old ways of just not giving a shit anymore.

Now, you know as well as I know that for Lea, when things get too bad the first thing her inner fatty bitch runs to is food. So, I did. I had been consuming whatever I wanted for most of March and I'm hoping that April can turn itself around. I had been going out a lot and purposely allowing myself to drink and eat whatever I wanted. I was numbing myself, I know it. I was putting myself through a series of tests to see how I handled each one. It's like trying to brush up on something you used to know really well. I didn't do so well at first, and I had to try and re-learn some stuff.
So, here's the story...

My roomie decided or read somewhere that it was a great idea to go on a fruit fast. I guess it was some kind of three day cleanse. She asked me if I wanted to do it with her, and I said sure, why not. I've done detoxes before and lost lots of weight on them, but the after affects are usually pretty bad. The detox I did way back when says you can only eat fruit and veggies for nine days, so I did and I exercised and I lost 17 pounds. Awesome right, not really because when I was finally done, I was like I'm so hungry now I want a burrito, a pizza, cheesecake, and french fries. My addictive behaviors come back out and they live a life of extremes. I just can't seem to find a happy medium yet, but I'm working on it. I end up gaining 27 pounds back after that detox. Yeah, my metabolism sucks.
So as the frustrations in my life grew I kept rethinking this fruit fast. I decided not to do it. I didn't want to, I was having a hard enough time keeping everything else together that adding this would have just been a big mess.
I also didn't want to do it because my roomies kind of lifestyle is not always for me. Don't get me wrong its great for her, but I'm going through something else and its not right for me right now.
So since she is telling me this is a great idea, I will automatically fight. My defiant ass won't do something, just because someone else is telling me to do it. I know is self destructive and childish, but sometimes it's who I have to be in order to go forward and move on.
I need to go through things and feel them, and then deal with them. So, a couple days before she started this fruit fast some things happened in my life that pushed me over the edge, and I just lost it.
I went to the grocery store because I had no food and I needed something or else I was gonna eat crap all week at other places. I got to the store and tried to get good things, but I couldn't. The only thing I wanted to buy was a fucking box of Fruity Pebbles.

I love Fruity Pebbles. They take me back to my childhood. You know how you get sick on something and you can never eat or drink it again? Not me, I remember being really little at the babysitters and sitting at the table eating a bowl of Fruity Pebbles. I don't know what happened, but all of the sudden I projectile vomited Fruity Pebbles all over myself and the table. Every other child that was at that table ran, and I was left there alone. There sat this chubby little Mexican girl with Fruity Pebbles stuck to her shirt and all over the table. I remember sitting there crying because everyone was so grossed out and nobody would come near me. I hate puking anyways , it freaked me out and I didn't know what to do.
I was sitting there crying covered in Fruity Pebbles still holding the spoon...
Someone eventually came and cleaned me up, but I will never ever forget that moment. You would think that something like that would be enough to scare me away from Fruity Pebbles forever, but it wasn't.

I stood there in the grocery isle staring at Fred Flintstone holding a spoonful of those sweet little colored crisp rice pieces. It was like he was taunting me, he was even smiling at me, the bastard. I even tried to reason with myself by reading the box. Fruity Pebbles are only 120 calories per serving but each serving has 11 grams of sugar. On the up side, they are gluten free and the box states: "Rocks Your Whole Mouth!"
I gave in, I even bought the family size box. I didn't do it to be spiteful. I did it because I had no fight left in me at the time and I couldn't deal with anything. Fruity Pebbles make me happy, damn it! They are the complete opposite of what I should be eating.
It only took me a few days to finish that box. Every time I poured myself a bowl I felt bad about it. Not just about eating this sugary cereal that I didn't need, but everything else in between. I also didn't just pour one bowl or a small bowl, I had multiple large bowls of this cereal. I knew that I shouldn't have and I knew that I should just throw away the box before I finish it, but I couldn't. I kept eating and eating. I didn't even feel good after I ate them. I let the inner fatty Bitch takeover. That whore was winning.
I had finally had the worst day at work ever, and things at home had gotten pretty crappy. I hadn't been to the gym in almost a week, and I couldn't bring myself to go. The only thing I could think of was Fruity Pebbles. I wanted them. My inner fatty was angry and frustrated and I had lost control of her.
I had let all the other things happening around me get bigger than what they needed to. I was finally at a point that I had to have a meltdown.
So I did. I came home that day and poured myself what I thought was the last bowl and started eating it alone in my room. Then it hit me, I started crying again because I knew that all these crazy feelings I had had in my head weren't me. This was not the person I wanted to be. I didn't want roomies lifestyle, but I didn't want the one I was choosing either. I was crying so hard I couldn't breathe, but don't think I didn't keep eating, because I did. In between sobs I managed to stuff spoonfuls of Fruity Pebbles into my mouth. I'm really surprised I didn't choke.
Yes, I am a bonafide fatty.
I put the bowl down and glanced at the box that I had taken in my room with me. I looked at that asshole Fred Flintstone on the box and kicked him in the face.
I stomped on the Fruity Pebble box. I smashed it, I started to rip it up and the plastic bag that was in it fell out spilling Fruity Pebbles all over my floor.

Fred Flintstone was no longer smiling at me. Fuck You Fred Flintstone, and you're Fucking pebbles.
At that Point, I knew the meltdown was almost over and it would only take a day or so to recover. If I wanted to go back to myself and the way I was it was only a choice. I could make it anytime I wanted to, and no one around me could affect it. I knew it now.
I understood, and I felt ready to move on from this sludge I felt stuck in. I wasn't falling off anymore, and I only had to be as stuck as I wanted to be. I was no longer willing to give any of my energy to anyone who didn't appreciate it or deserve it.

Things started to look up, and roomie and I finally spoke to each other. Things at work got better and I finally made it back to the gym.

Roomie and I finally chatted before I went out last night and it was fine. She did look at me and finally ask "What was with the Fruity Pebbles in our house?"
I looked at her and said "I was wondering when you would ask me about those?"

I looked at her and said "I had a meltdown this week."

A Fruity Pebble Meltdown

Love,
Lea/Trixie

Spit it Out...

I just woke up and am probably still drunk.

What did I do last night? Nothing too crazy, or dramatic...I don't think. I honestly don't know, but I know I woke up earlier this morning in front of the toilet in a t-shirt and undies.

Yes, I've been told before... I'm a Classy Bitch!

Anyways, sorry roomie, hope I didn't make a mess. My roomie also tells me that I need to celebrate the small victories in my life and appreciate the now. She tells me I focus too much on the end goal that I am missing out on a lot of stuff right now. I try really hard to listen to her, but where I'm at right now still feels like no where. I'm not satisfied, yet. Whatever validation I'm searching for or have been searching for isn't there yet. So, I keep looking for it, and looking for it and keep praying that someday I'll find it and this void will be gone. Until then I keep living my life by trial and error with people. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes I just end up with a lot of shit stories of the things that I did.
I feel like I made a mess of last night though, but I'm gonna look at it like this...

1. I know I got upset for a stupid reason,The reason will reveal itself in due time. Don't worry trolls, eventually I'm gonna let everyone know the truth when I finish my book. Until then I just keep shoving it away except every now and then when let a little slip out. Fuck! Bad Lea! I'm just such a horrible liar!
2. I know I was drunk and the friend I was hanging out with knows I'm sometimes crazy. Whatever its the latina in me.
3. My friend and I have always forgiven each other for the shit we do to each other when we're drunk. So, I'm gonna hope on that one.
4. I could go back through and look at the text messages to figure out what happened but I'm not ready to do that yet. I know I sent some crap to a few people last night. Low self esteem will do wonders for you when you're drunk!
5. I ate fairly well yesterday and when I came home upset I did not eat anything.


Did you hear that suckers?????????????????? Nothing! I did however drink a lot...
So much that I just had to give up and pass out because I really didn't know what to do anymore. I tried to sleep, but that didn't last very long. The spins set in and the roll of heat came over me and I made it the bathroom just in time. I also fell asleep on the floor....
It's funny, you can laugh at me, I am.
Which brings me to puking...I hate it, its gross and I don't know how anyone could be bulimic. I know I make jokes about being bulimic, having prolimia (ask Paul Star or Jamie Hance what it is), anorexia, or manorexia. It's just a joke, because I know what its like to struggle. Don't think I don't have issues with food or that I don't I relapse all the time, because I do. I want it everyday, and I want it bad. I'm a binge eater and that is just as bad.
I will wait until no one is watching.
At least, I think no one is watching...but someone is always watching.
Last week I had to make these special Braided Danishes for Easter. I had to make four different kinds. I made an apple one, a chocolate one, and the last two had to be bullshit ones. They were raspberry and cream cheese, and strawberry and cream cheese.
Cream cheese is like crack to me. One little hit and I'm done, I'm twitching in a corner with my eyes rolling backwards alone...
Why Satan, why?
Well, they kind of turned out and they kind of didn't, but they sat there for a whole day before I could cut them up and try them out. Everyone kept asking me, "Lea, when do we get to eat that? Lea, when, When, WHEN?!" They all wanted it as bad as I did.
I told everyone I would let them eat them after I showed the owners, my bosses and got their input. Its my job, they ask and I produce. Unfortunately for me its food, and if they don't like it the first time, I have to keep remaking it until they are satisfied.

Well, son of a Bitch...they liked them. They only need a little bit of tweaking, but next week I'm going to kill it when I remake them. I will have to try them again, and I'm gonna hate it but I don't have to swallow it. Just taste it, and spit it out. That is what I do with most of the stuff I have to try there. I have to! Everyone gets grossed out, but its what I gotta do. I wish I didn't even have to taste it.
They sat out all day and everyone kept eating it. It was torture, I kept moving the tray of the cut up pieces away from my work space but somehow some asshole would move them back. My assistant tries to keep me strong. She will move the scraps away from me without my having to ask her. If she sees me go for something, she'll say "Don't eat all of that, you know you don't want to!" She gets me, and she knows when to back off and when to check me. Well, that bitch left for the day!
I was on my way out the door to go get some lunch and it hit me. I was hungry and I couldn't fight the danish anymore. I cut a piece, just to hold me over until I got some real food.

I honestly thought I could get away with it because everyone who normally checks me was gone. No roomie, no chorizito(if you're smart you can figure out who that is), no awesome assistant. Everyone still there that day could have cared less if I ate the whole thing or not. I was in mid chew when I heard someone call my name.
It was the damn Retail Manager, another good friend who has seen me at my biggest and actually teared up the other day as he told me he was proud of me for changing my life. I don't like to tell him, but I sometimes give a shit about him.
He said, "Lea?" And then he gave me the come over here nod, he was rinsing dishes, so he had his hands full.
I turned around, still in mid chew not even thinking about what was in my mouth and I said, "What?"
He looked at me and then he nodded to the trash can, he didn't really have to say anything. I knew it right then at that second. He looked at me and said "Spit it out."
I had been caught and I was ashamed. I felt so bad and it got even worse because I had started to swallow. I spit out this giant lump of masticated danish into the trash and tried to gag up the little bit I swallowed. It wasn't working though, I could still feel the lump in my throat. So I took a huge swig of water and half swallowed it, and finally I threw it up. It was like he had reached down my throat and pulled the demons out of me, like an exorcism. The girl behind me said "Oh my God, I can't believe you just made her do that! I don't think I could do that, Gross!" It was fine because, I needed someone to do that. I stood there rinsing out my mouth over the trash can and I said quietly with a smile on my face "I fucking hate you right now." He said "but you love me a little bit too."
I was thankful for that moment because I needed that to happen. I didn't want that danish in my body. It was truly a religious experience and I needed someone to try and cleanse me, because this fatty bitch fell off. I know when I'm too close to the dark side and sometimes I can't save myself.
We put a lot of crap in our mouths, and our bodies. Physically, and mentally sometimes we need to be told to spit it out. We don't want to hold on to anything that could sabotage us or keep us down.
I often feel like no one is around or that no one cares anymore. But that's not it, people are people and they have their own shit to deal with. My friends are still there, they just can't be there all the time, but that doesn't mean they stopped believing in me.
I need to relearn how to believe in myself.
Sometimes I think I can't do it anymore and I want to give up. Is it worth it anymore? Am I ever going to get there? Am I ever going to get what I want or is it all just a pipe dream? "Is the juice worth the squeeze?"
Yes...I would rather die trying, than give up on myself or any of you. People will believe in you if you let them, even when you don't believe in yourself.
Until then I'm learning to enjoy the time I have right now, because I know there is something amazing for me ahead...and I'm willing to do the work and to wait!
So whatever you're dealing with just listen when someone says....

Spit it out.

Love,
Lea/Trixie
P.S. Don't ever swallow...

I was hungry for White Boy...

Someone the other day was talking to me about my blog and he said "I'm surprised you put some of the stuff in you do, I'd be embarrassed."

I am, but there's that shitty cliche, "The truth shall set you free"
I know the past is the past, and the present is right now and all that shit. I don't have to explain the past, its mine and eventually I will let you in, but whats happening right now is more important.

If you really want to know it all, I'll tell you.

I know, I know. Lea, stop don't get all self helpy. People don't want to be helped, they want to be rescued before its too late. That's when the desperation sets in. There are also those that don't want to be helped at all, you just have to be there when they get through it. I know both of these people, personally.

I know I've said it before but boredom can get the best of me. It gets hard trying to figure out how to deal with yourself when you get so bored with everything. So, I cling and hold on to the things that keep me going the most. Whatever, whoever it is I'll take it. But I hold on to it so tight that I eventually smother it. Murder, death, kill...

Its a token Lea move, don't ask me why I do it or any of the things I do. I just do, and not you nor anyone else can change me until I'm ready to.

People have to learn how to help themselves.
That's what I'm doing...I've been liberating myself one mistake at a time.
My guitar teacher once told me: "We keep making the same mistakes over and over again because we are so desperate to fill a void in ourselves that we don't know we're doing it."
Sometimes I think my guitar teacher can be a Prick, but I guess it works for me.

I'm just a professional mess maker! I wish I could get paid for this shit.

I do really good for a while, and then things get too good and the fatty in me come out and that crazy Bitch has to ruin everything.
She can't have just a little, she has to have it all!
Whether its the cake, the booze, or the boy in this case. I will over do it...
I'm really trying to not do it so much anymore but every now and then it sneaks up on me. Things get good and then I fuck them up.

Maybe I'm afraid. Maybe I'm just not ready, even though I want it so bad.

Which brings me finally to the story I wanted to share with you...
I was at work a while ago and I am constantly surrounded by white starchy things I can't have. Notice I said can't, I've worked too hard to allow myself to have them anymore. I know its unhealthy behavior to think this way, but I think my past is unhealthier.
Anyways, I see white bread all damn day! French, Sourdough, Foccacia, and all the white pastry and cookies you can think.
The smell of fresh bread coming out of an oven is enough to make me puddle on the floor. Its overwhelming for me and it makes my job tough every single day. I ask myself all the time why I left my last job and took this one, but I know the reason. I also knew it was gonna be tough and if you know me, you'll already know that I don't make anything easy on myself.
Again, don't ask why. I don't fucking know.

Things are easier said than done...

Its like I'm shitting cliches today.

Sorry, I was at work and I was babbling to myself, and what I wanted to say was "God I'm hungry for white bread." What I actually said was "God I'm hungry for white boy."
Yes, I said it out loud and some people heard me. I laughed until I almost puked and then I ran to grab my phone to call an infamous white boy I know because I hadn't talked to him in a while and I missed him.

He was the only one that I knew could appreciate the shit that comes out of my mouth.
I told him what I had said and he laughed at me. It was good to talk to him, and I was happy to hear that he was okay. And yes, I missed him, probably more than he missed me.

It was about two weeks later that I saw him, and I actually got to hang out with him. We drank, we danced and we having a good time, then I had to fuck it up.

As I went to say goodbye I hugged him, and I said something very important to him and then...I bit him. I have no idea why I did it, but I did. I actually bit him, and I think it was on the neck. Who does that? I do, I guess. I bit him and his first reaction was to hit me, which he did. He hit me on the side of the face. He probably doesn't remember hitting me, but its okay. I'm sure I had it coming....
I have to laugh about it now because it's a little funny. NO, it's a lot funny!
I saw him outside of the bar, and he wasn't really mad at me, but he said "the bite, no me gusta. No bueno." I said I was sorry, and then I felt really bad.
We talked about something else for a minute and then I said something else that pissed him off, and he finally walked away mad.
I was upset. The other friend who was with me told me not to worry about it. She said "you were both drunk, let it go. He might not even remember it."

I would remember it though, I would remember the disappointment I saw in his face when he looked at me. I would remember how I made him mad, so mad he hit me. I had to deal with the feeling I had as he walked away from me pissed off. That knowing in my head that I had fucked up again. My obnoxious behavior had once again poisoned a situation like a bleach cocktail.

It was like I had eaten the whole cheesecake even though I said I was only going to have a bite. I felt like I failed again, and now I had to go home and figure out how to make it better.
The old Lea would go to the closest fast food place and get french fries, because I love them with lots of high fructose corn syrup (ketchup). Then I thought about going to the store to get pizza, because pizza makes me incredibly happy, even the shitty frozen kind. I'm not real picky when it comes to pizza. Okay that's a lie, but when I need a fix I'm willing to settle. And at that point in time I needed a fix to help me forget about what I had done. Then I thought about going to the gas station to get potato chips. Whoever invented potato chips can go to hell and sit next to me, because I love you and would do absolutely anything you want.
No really if George Crum were still alive he could have all the tug-jobs he wanted, because that is how much I love potato chips.

I didn't though, I didn't get any fast food. I didn't go to the store, or the gas station. I didn't even come home and try to secretly eat in the kitchen so my roomie doesn't hear me. She says she doesn't judge me, but sometimes I think she does. I project my judgment onto everyone else. Its my catholic guilt, I feel like I am always doing something wrong.

I came home, I sat on the couch, and I said to myself "Lea, you are going to have to deal with yourself this time. You are going to have to learn how to deal with this feeling, not do it again, and not try to make it go away with food."
I had to try and learn from this one. This mistake was important, it was so important because I realized that I fucked up and I was strong enough to to deal with it and not try to comfort myself with something else...whether it be food, alcohol, drugs or people. All of my vices were uninvited for the night and it was just me.
Its frightening sometimes to be just by yourself, it is for me anyways.
I did it though, and I realized for a minute that I had grown, I had learned and I've changed. I had successfully made an attempt to change my life.

I was never going to be the same.

As for the white boy I bit, well he wasn't mad, probably annoyed more than anything. He knows that I was drunk, and how important he is. I could never do anything legitimately harmful to him.
What can I say, I called his ass and warned him already. I guess I wasn't kidding.

I was hungry for White Boy...

Love,
Lea/Trixie