Well, of course, I overreacted about the wood. After going to Home Depot and Lowe's and not having any luck, I decided to just email my dad a confession. He assured me it was not that big a deal, that he had plenty more wood and stain for the wood, and that it could probably just be sanded out anyway. And I could breath again. Ahhhh.

Today I got my hair bleached lighter. I am seriously blonde now. I have this thing online called Mint that uploads all of my financial accounts and separated my spending, etc. into categories. It turns out I spend more money on my hair than I spend on food. Jesus! I guess my hair is to me like shoes are to most girls. Even when you're feeling fat and there aren't any clothes that fit, buy a new pair of shoes and all is well. For me, I really don't care for shoe shopping. I would go barefoot if I could. But my hair - I would go to the salon every week if I could afford it. I love how it looks when I leave the salon, so smooth and healthy, no dark roots, every strand in place, shiny, pretty, perfect. I do a pretty decent job with my hair, but nothing beats the work of a professional. In the past, before I could afford the salon, I dyed my hair every possible color. Every time something terrible happened, I would dye my hair. Every time I broke up with a guy, or if I had really awful PMS, I would dye my hair. After I left E and was living in the domestic violence shelter, I cut off my dreadlocks. Then I went on a platinum blonde crusade, stealing bleach and developer from beauty supply stores once a week in an attempt to get my hair to look like Marilyn Monroe's. It probably started when my Mom bleached my hair for the first time when I was 12. I don't remember if any tragic incident occurred before she did it, but I wouldn't be surprised, as the year 12 was a rather hellish year for me. We were living in these disgusting condos, Bellevue Manor, on 148th. It was the ghetto of Bellevue. Still is, in fact. My mom was in a relationship with TM, the biggest, fattest, loudest, most disgusting Italian jerk-off on the planet. His teenager daughter moved in with us, too. She was a crackwhore...no seriously...she was a 15 year old whore. I'm not positive if it was crack that she was after, or just the love and attention that her father never gave her, but whatever her reasons, she was selling her body. TM was horrible to me. He wouldn't let me talk on the phone. We had one phone line in the condo and in the living room, a little red light would turn on on the phone console whenever someone picked up the phone in any room. So if I picked up the phone in my bedroom, TM would see the light, storm in, and make me hang up. He wouldn't let me open the refridgerator. I would walk into the kitchen, reach out for the fridge door, and he would yell from his throne on the couch in front of the TV to back away from the door. When I would get home from school, I liked to watch TV for a while, but when he got home from work, he would tear into the living room, sit down on the couch practically on top of me, grab the remote out of my hand, and change the channel as if I did not exist. One time I came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around me (my bedroom was right next to the bathroom) and he came after me, screaming about something (I don't remember what), grabbed me the neck, and pushed me up against the wall in my bedroom. He was actually holding me up by my neck so my feet her dangling. My towel started to fall off, but he didn't care. He was up in face, screaming at me and I was terrified of this asshole. He was the most controlling jerk I'd ever known up to that point in my life. He was fat and he let his bodily functions fly whenever he felt like it. He yelled and swore all the time. He had road rage before there was a name for road rage. But my mom loved him for some reason, no matter how fucked up his kids were (his son was no better- in and out of jail and rehab and only 19 years old), and no matter how abusive he was towards me. So, I don't know, maybe in my mind, dying my hair is a way to escape pain? Maybe that's taking something superficial a bit too far, but I think there is some truth to it. She would also do things like take me shopping at Ross (Ross was third in my highest spending categories on Mint), and she would buy sweets and we would indulge together. She would buy 2 lb bags of peanut butter M&M's, or an entire cake, or a box of cookies and some ice cream. There were always sweets around, but especially if I was going through a hard time. Sweets were one the ways she helped me to feel better. And today, my three biggest spending categories are hair, food, and Ross. If I include all stores, not just Ross, shopping is the highest category I have. Five times that of hair. So I am addicted to dying my hair, shopping, and sweets. Big surprise. Mystery solved. But even if I am aware of the root of my compulsions, it doesn't stop them. I still want chocolate. I still want to be blonde. I still want a new pair of jeans. I wure would love a way to stop feeling like I need these things. I know I'm a shopping addict. I shop like I'm made of money, even though I only work part time and I am in major debt. It's actually really out of control. But I just want to spend. Sometimes it's not even the spending, just the shopping. The hours spent wandering around a store, picking things out, trying them on, making a decision. Half the time I don't even buy anything, even after spending hours in a store. There's something trance-like, meditative, about shopping. It's soothing and mind-numbing. Everything else just fades away, like how it would for a gambling addict when they're shoving quarter after quarter into a slot machine. The only time I come back to reality when I'm shopping is when I'm in the dressing room and i have to face how fat I actually am. Like today, for instance. I was wandering through Ross and I found some cuter jeans. I went to try them on and I could barely pull them up over my fat legs. They were glued to me, and they were a size 5! It's repulsive. It wouldn't be so bad if my stomach wasn't a bowl of Jello. I wouldn't mind being a size 5 if I had a nice, tight stomach but just had a big fat ass. A fat ass is fine if the rest of you is tight. Look at Kim Kardashian. She's made millions off that fat ass. But she has a small waist. That's key. My waist is soft and it has no definition. It has become grotesque. It makes me so sad because my waist used to be rock hard. You could see the muscles rippling through my skin. I looked HOT in a bikini. And this was only last summer. Now, it's Jello. Even though my stomach is still extremely strong, possibly more so than a year ago, you can't tell because of the fucking layer of fat covering it. I just wish I could get a handle on what I put inside my body. It's like, ridiculous because I can cut out meat no problem, eggs no problem, dairy no problem, soy only a slight problem, but for some reason sugar just has a hold on me. And sugar is the number one thing that makes people fat. Why can't I just let it go and stick to it? Why does it always creep back in, practically hours after I commit to giving it up. I just can't stop. I feel totally powerless over my cravings for sugar. Will I ever be normal? Will I ever be non-addicted? I feel like, even if I'm not drinking, drugging, or smoking cigarettes, my brain always attaches itself to something, clings to it and will not let go. How do people free themselves from addictions? I am tired of being ruled by outside sources, things that can never make me happy long-term, only fill a void temporarily, because the void always reappears. It opens back up almost instantly after the damage is done. All that money spent, all those calories ingested, and for what? I don't feel any better. I'm fatter and I have less money. That wouldn't make anyone feel good. I want to treat myself, my body, my money, my future, with respect and love. I want to save money and eat healthily. I want to stop this insanity because that's exactly what is is: doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. It will never happen. Blonde hair won't make me happy, chocolate won't make me happy, a cheap shirt that I won't even like in two weeks won't make me happy. It's no wonder I have piles and piles of clothes but nothing to wear. What would make me happy is a flat stomach and a savings account full of money. I don't mean that in the superficial way, either, I mean it in the sense that if I have a flat stomach, it's because I'm taking care of my body, and if I have a full savings account, it's because I'm taking care of my financial future. I want to be someone who treats themselves with that kind of love and respect. That's what would make me happy - being congruent with my beliefs. Being vegan is a fantastic start, but I still have a long way to go. I mean, let's be real, here: bleach is NOT vegan.

Shit, I haven't written much this week. And it's not because I don't have anything to say, it's just that HAM is on his break so we're together more, and my boss has given me several projects at work so I haven't had time. I am sad to report that I am once again experiencing allergic reactions to foods. So far the two culprits are dairy and soy. I already cut out dairy and since then my eyelid has stopped twitching, but when I cut out dairy, my soy consumption increased, and now I have been breaking out in hives on my arms and chest. So I am cutting out soy again, too. It's okay, I've done it before, and before I also had cut out gluten, so this won't be nearly as bad. There are a lot more soy alternative, meat alternative "meat" products available now, such as Quorn, and this other veggie patty I found that's really yummy (and gluten free, too). Plus, there are a lot of protein/energy bars that are raw, vegan, and soy free. My new fav is Lydia's Organics Cacao Crunch Bar. While it is more difficult to eat this way because my choices are a bit more limited, I actually consider it a blessing in a way. It's my body's way of telling me to get it together and pay attention to my health. I mean, you can't have any more obvious symptoms than eyelid twitching and hives. It's plain as day that I have to give up these mass-produced, Monsanto bred, hormone filled trash that's only hurting my body and truly crushing my spirit. I've definitely noticed a decine in my attitude and happiness when I eat soy on a daily basis, not to mention the bloating and weight gain around my stomach. And dairy? Shit, dairy is basically glue. I don't know anyone who would willingly ingest glue, but when you eat dairy, that's basically what you're doing. I just don't need it in my body or in my life. My quality of life is not damaged by my lack of cheesecake or ice cream. And my soy consumption consists mainly of my triple medium soy latte in the morning, which, this morning I replaced with almond milk and it's fine. Not as good as soy, but it's fine, and I'll get used to it. I'm happy to have to readjust my diet towards more healthful choices. I've been eating steamed vegetables of every color every night, along with a potato (sweet potatoes usually, but the other night we had these amazing dark purple potatoes). I usually have salad or lentils and grilled veggies at lunch, and oatmeal with walnuts and half a banana for breakfast. I've cut out eggs, too. So I guess I'm a vegan now. I was a vegan once many years ago, but I was still drinking and smoking then, so I don't think it was as effective to me personally (although it was still better for animals and the environment). Now, I don't drink, don't smoke, don't do drugs, I exercise regularly, and I'm vegan! I'm fucking happy about this. It's still brand new, so we'll see if I can stick with it, but I just don't care that much about the products I'm not eating. I was already vegetarian, and I've gone without dairy several times in the past. Eggs were always the hardest thing for me to give up, but lately I haven't even really wanted eggs. I've just lost my desire to eat them for some reason. And that's great since they are so high in cholesterol and oly have six grams of protein, which is easy to get from vegetables and meat alternatives. Yes, I'm still on antidepressants, and as of right now, I feel like I may have to stay on them forever because every time I stop, I slowly fall apart, but at least I'm doing the best I can for my body and the planet. I know antidepressants are tested on animals and I don't like that I am contributing to that, but what else can I do? One thing I am going to try is natural progesterone from yams. I used to take it for almost two years but I was prescribed too high of a dose and it made my periods stop. It's when I stopped taking the progesterone that all my problems began. I was already having digestive issues while I was on progesterone, but when I stopped, the binge eating disorder, weight gain, allergies, extreme digestive discomfort, insomnia and depression began. It's because I have estrogen dominance. I'm not just self-diagnosing either. I have had my hormones checked several times, and every time my progesterone shows as practically nonexistent. My estogen has fluxuated between extremely low and normal, but my progesterone has always been almost off the radar. So I know this will help me. No one that eats as healthy and works out as much as I do is this fat without there being an underlying cause. I am 99% sure it will help me lose weight and feel less irritable, and I've heard it helps insomnia, too. I do remember sleeping really well when I used to take it, so I hope it will help. My insomnia has improved immensely, but there are nights (like last night) where I wake up in the middle of the night and then just lie awake for hours, thinking about irrelevant things. Well, I guess I'm off to the gym now. We're doing back today, my least favorite of all the muscle groups, however, I am especially cut in that area. I scare people with my traps. Once I lose this estrogen fat, I'll be back to my "rock hard to the core" body that I used to have, that is what I deserve to have for all my hard work.

I'm at work right now and I need to figure out the plan for dinner. Lately, HAM and I have been consuming an inordinate amount of bread. He and I both have a weakness for delicious bread, or carbs of any kind, really. I used to have a shirt with a cartoon pig and cow dancing, and above these two happy creatures, it read, "I LOVE CARBS". This shirt obvioulsy had more to do with my being a vegetarian than it did for my love of carbs, but it's always been true. Some people crave steak or chicken. Some people think the hear of a meal is meat. I'm the type of person who thinks the appetizer, the salad, the side dish, and the entree are fine, but can't compare to that dinner roll, smothered in butter and still warm from the oven. If I could live off of just bread, I'd be a happy woman. Bagels, English muffins, sprouted wheat, pumpernickel, sourdough, the dinner roll, the breakfast biscuit, toasted, microwaved, or fresh out of the fridge, I don't care, just give me bread or give me death! Fuck that Atkins jerk-off and his all protein diet. Seriously? I once saw my old boss at a pizza joint pull all of the greasy, hot cheese off of a slice of pizza and eat it. He said he was doing the Atkins diet. I was like, "You're eating fat dripping with more fat, and you call yourself a dieter? On what planet?" And fine, the Atkins diet works, but it works by sending your body into ketosis, which is basically like sending it into shock. You get a weird taste in your mouth and you lose your capacity to move. It's like having some crazy disease, but woohoo! You lose weight. Whatever. I tried it. I ate shrimp and peanut butter for days and wanted to die. And the carb backlash is unreal. Any time I deprive myself of something I always end up going at it hard once I let it back in again. I'm still on a carb rampage from a year-old failed low-carb diet. The point is, we do need to reduce our carb intake. We need to increase our veggie intake. I'm okay with the amount of protein I eat, but he needs more. He's trying to build muscle and he's already taking creatine, but the damn guy just doesn't eat enough. I eat enough for both of us, but that won't help him. I've never met a guy with such a small appetite. I eat all of my meals faster than him, I'm hungry when he's not, and I usually want more when he's full. Plus, we almost always eat the same amount of food. It's unbelievable. No wonder he's worried I might look like my mom one day. But my Mom never exercised, and I exercise five days a week, sometimes twice a day, sometimes six days a week. So we can definitely eat some carbs. With all our working out, we are entitled to carbs, but we can't live off of them. We need to start eating healthier. I wish we had one of those Vitamix blenders. Of course, that's like a fat person saying they need a certain type of shoes in order to work out. It's really about just doing it despite circumstances or appliances or wardrobe. Nothing gets accomplished by purchasing shit. Things get accomplished by doing them. Don't even get me started on consumerism and how we're all brainwashed to believe that we need this in order to do that, that we won't be happy until we get such-and-such, that we can't start this until be by that, etc. We're all trained to believe that we need Cover Girl to be beautiful, Nikes to play basketball, Snickers to be satisfied, and Comet to clean the toilet. I hate commercials trying to brainwash me! And even if I consciously know it's bullshit and that I can make my own decisions, commercials don't work by telling you something and you believing it - no. Instead commercials slowly leak into the collective subconscious over time until all of truly believe that we need these brands and these products to live happily. So yeah, I want a Vitamix blender. I want it so I can make fresh cashew butter and heirloom tomato gazpacho. I didn't see it on an infomercial though (another thing my mom has a problem with - every Christmas she gets me something she saw on an infomercial). I actually read about it on a vegan chef's blog when I was trying to be vegan a couple years ago. By the way, I always imagine myself returning to veganism, but right now I'm just so happy that I can eat dairy without turning into a giant, red, itchy blotch. Oh 2% lattes, how I've missed you so! I guess I'm rambling about all kinds of stuff when what I really need to do is either find a recipe or a restaurant. And whatever happens, vegetables need to be involved.