So working out with the new trainer. Twice a week. Pretty high intensity. Pretty high anxiety. Hasn't done shit.
Maybe because I'm still eating like a wildebeest. I can't help it. I had this big photo shoot (which is the picture to your left) with this pretty famous photographer where we collaborated on this concept which is me in sexy lingerie lying in a bed with my hair spread out on the pillow but I’m surrounded by cupcakes and potato chips and empty bottles of whiskey and wine and remote controls all around me on the bed. A slice a life, because I always wear lingerie and high heels and makeup when I’m shame eating in bed.... (giggle giggle) I’m a kitten (wink!) Anyway I saw some of the pictures and I looked like Louie Anderson in chiffon. What you see is completely airbrushed. Stomach removed.
I hate going to the fucking gym more than anything. See I’m from that generation of entitled lazy coddled attention whores who would rather saw their own tit off with a plastic knife than break a sweat or do an honest days work, BUT I’m doing it and it kinda blows. Not only is it hard and it hurts but also it’s embarrassing! First of all I spend a half hour trying to find a t shirt that doesn’t have [noticeable] bbq stains on it and I only shave my ankles because that’s the part my trainer feels when he stretches me. People at the gym make me fucking sick. Check out this guy! I snapped it from the elliptical. Look at this guy...presenting his anus!
In other news, I just cleaned out my closet… a truly dark and harrowing experience. All of the size 4 and 6 chanel and ysl dresses reminded me that not only did I used to be thin but I used to be stylish! And its unbelievable the memories attached to all the clothes. This is what I wore when I had a boyfriend. This is what I wore when I cheated on my boyfriend, this is what I wore when I was boning a stranger in a bathroom stall at bungalow 8, this is what I wore that time I was doing blow with that hooker and Andy Dick, this is what I wore when I used to leave the house for something other than cake. As I was tossing them in the give away pile I was crying touched by all the good memories...of being touched
OH p.s. Do you think its funny that I gave the salvation army like 3 old vibrators mixed in with the clothes? Well I do. HAHA! YOU TOUCHED IT!!!!