I got impatient with trying to lose weight, even when it had actually started working. Now that it's the season of chocolate and pastries and huge fattening dinners, I'm not doing so well in that department anymore.

I don't have a good enough motivation. I know one single thing that would get me motivated but I think I'm too smart to let myself go down my path. The most obvious motivation would be Cody, and honestly he is already motivation in other areas. The only way I can keep myself going to the gym obsessively and eating a diet amount of calories is to make myself think that I need to show him up somehow. It's always about him, you know? I'm making the assumption that I won't see Cody again for another 6 months, unless something happens on New Years. But if I have 6 months, I could easily turn off the healthy side of my brain and revert back to thinking I have exactly 6 months to look the hottest I've ever looked in my life, just so that when he sees me again he'll think "damn". Even deeper than that, ideally he'd think, "damn, I sort of like her still" and things would go from there, but we have The Bitch factor in there ruining everything as always. Bitches tend to do that.

I look back to when I was in my "Major Depression" era, when I wrote, "I've lost 6 pounds again so now I'm 112lbs. I am usually 118. I used to be 108 during the summer, and 110 during the school year...shit, those were the days. If I could lose 2 more pounds and be down to 110 I think I'd like that. I don't feel any skinnier right now. I need to go to the gym and tone my lower body. Blech."

Sometimes I think, how much would I kill to be 118 lbs again? But then I think, Krista...if you would really kill for that, why have you been sitting on your ass for the past month doing nothing about it. Why do I say I want things and then not take myself seriously?

I can't make myself do anything that I really want to do. I've been obsessed with my hair lately, and I know that sounds stupid to most people. I'm just a vain, materialistic girl who is fixiated on her hair. I haven't cut it in six months and it is pure torture waiting for it to grow back to what it used to be. I have this one picture of me, the only picture taken of me when my hair was at its longest. I treasure that picture and look at it every single day, then compare the length of my hair now, then do the math to figure out exactly how many more weeks it will take for my hair to look like that again, if it's even possible. The picture was taken in my room at SFU before everything went to hell, before Cody had even come back from Whistler that summer. I'm so young and naive, just sitting on my bed waiting for my boyfriend to come home and expecting him to rush up to my room the second he does and tell me he missed me and smother me with hugs and kisses. The real story couldn't have been more different but...it's okay. The past. I look at that picture and now I just focus on what long, gorgeous healthy hair I had.

"My mom trimmed my hair yesterday. I didn't want her to but she wanted to and thought it needed to be done so I had to suffer through it. I like my hair long, but I guess there are like 2 inches of split ends, so trimming 5 mm off doesn't hurt. That tiny trim was the first time my hair has been cut since January [this was written Nov/00]. Sheesh, 5 mm of hair was hard enough to part with...I don't think I'm gonna ever work up the guts to chop it all off. I've been thinking about getting it cut to my shoulders, like it was in Gr.11. Cody always liked my hair shorter, he thought it looked better, and that it looked cute and suited me. Hmm. I know he likes my hair shorter. So I'd do it for him. Not myself."

I'm not doing the hair thing for Cody anymore. Cody does like it shorter, I know he does. But sometimes I wonder if I really am doing it for Cody in a way, but in spite of him. To show him that I can look super hot even with my hair the way I like it. I know that he must have something to do with it because that is where my impatience comes from. I'm thinking, how many more months is this going to take? And when is the next time I will most likely see Cody? So that means my hair will have grown exactly this much by then...

I hate what I'm writing right now. I have no direction and I keep thinking of a million different things to say that are entirely unrelated. I can't think of why I came here in the first place, and I hope to God it wasn't just because I wanted to complain about my hair needing another 6 months. And I didn't want to talk about Cody, why did I have to talk about Cody? What made me bring Cody into this mess? I wasn't even thinking about him, or was I...

It has been dark, gray and rainy. I am sitting here listening to sad love songs.

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