Number One

The 100 days of Confession have begun.
Here's the drill:
Confession.
Explanation.
The end.

Let's get started.

1. I will NOT have a "rockin' body" by Spring Break.

Wanna know why? Plenty of reasons.
A. I don't have will power. None. Squat. ZERO. I like ice cream.
B. I kept finding good "diet and exercise" programs but I never started them.
I get so upset by the fact that everybody seems to think that overtly skinny, like anorexic skinny, is what's expected of a woman to make her beautiful. I mean, come on. What happened to loving boobs and butts and hips and hourglasses? I'm an hourglass. And now all of a sudden nobody thinks that's cool anymore. So what do I do? I stew about how nobody makes clothes to fit my shape and how I shouldn't have to change my body just so other people will like it and bla bla bla and yet: I hate looking in the mirror. Like seriously. I fucking hate my mirror. SO MUCH. I will never be as pretty as I wish I were or as other people think I should be. One of my friends told me today that I had "one of those normal, forgettable faces." Wow. Thanks a lot. I kinda wonder why she bothered to tell me that. I mean, it was... unnecessary. But either way, she's right. I'm plain. There's nothing special about me. I mean the thing is, if I lost like ten pounds in the right places, I'd have the body of a play-boy bunny. And don't tell me people don't freak the fuck out over play-boy anymore. So why am I forgettable? Why do I hate my mirror? Why will I always put myself to a standard of "beauty" that I can never reach and degrade myself when I fail?
I don't know.