It's not unusual to be loved by anyone

Happy Thanksgiving, lovers!

How was your holiday? Happy? Plentiful? Mine certainly was.

My family and I ate like starved dogs yesterday afternoon (Thanks mom!), and then I kicked off my shoes and retired to the couch to pass out. I was later pulled from the sticky web of my food coma when my dad produced a VHS tape of all the home movies my grandfather had taken of us when we were little. My parents had had them transferred to video and we all decided to watch. So I grabbed some cold stuffing and Lily and I snuggled together on the couch.

Holy Christ. My grandfather was a man of few words, but he was a quiet artist of sorts, and managed to capture moments on his old fashioned silent video camera that I'd forgotten even happened. His movies of our family were intermixed with trips he and my grandmother took all over the country (My mom and I both shrieked with delight when, in a shot of 1960s Vegas we saw a sign outside the Flamingo Club for TOM JONES: ONE NIGHT ONLY), and he managed to get some really beautiful shots that conjured up memories I hadn't expected.

Being the body-obsessed freak that I am, I was of course transfixed on the evolution of my chubby little girlbody throughout the many stages of my childhood captured on betamax.

I'm glad that Lily's lithe little string bean frame seems to take more after her father's Irish potato famine side of the family rather than my homemade manicotti-loving, wine glugging, Italian side. It will hopefully save her some middle-school heartache and money on therapy later in life.

Anyway, I never weigh myself. I do not keep a scale in my home, and I never step on one, unless forced to at my yearly checkup, and even then it makes my palms sweaty and my heart pound. Is there a story behind this? Yes, of course. Am I going to tell you? Not today, no.

In any event, my parents own a scale. And, since I've noticed that the majority of my pants have been getting increasingly difficult to button over the last 6 months(due to, I am imagining, a heavy dose of romance, thai takeout and a bit more red wine than necessary), I wanted to see for myself exactly how much weight I'd gained since last stepping on a scale.

Well, holy fuck.

Um, more than I'd expected.

So, in anticipation of a long holiday season filled with debauchery and home made baked goods, I thought I'd take some preventative steps and do a little detoxing beforehand.

I did the Master Cleanse once before, and it was not fucking fun. In fact, I wanted to kill myself.

BUT I didn't drink caffeine during it, and this time I plan to dose myself with green tea in addition to spicy lemonade.

Also, I only lasted three days last time, but I did feel pretty damn good afterwards. Anyway, I think this is probably a good way to kick over a new leaf and get back to healthy, glowy me. We'll see.