HCG

I'm on the HCG diet. Basically it's a naturally occurring hormone in pregnant women that burns tons of calories, and lets you only eat 500 calories a day. It's a fucking dream, and in 26 days, I should lose about 26 pounds. Fuck yes.

There is a huge downfall. I have to inject the HCG into my love handles everyday at the same time, I chose 8 o'clock am, and the diet is really strict. No breakfast. No milk. Unlimited coffee, tea, and water. No soda. For lunch you can have 3.5 ounces of meat, a cup of vegetables, and a fruit for an afternoon snack. Same for dinner, and another fruit for an evening snack. I have to be careful and can't have an oil in my deodorant, hair products, make-up, or lotion. (Except mineral oil, 'cause it can't penetrate the skin.) The point is that my body goes into starvation mode, the HCG attacks the fat, and I lose the weight I packed on going to college.

I know, I'm crazy. But 26 pounds? So worth it!

I go to the consult with my dad (He has to sign for me, and he's on it too) and there is another lady there. After I get my first shot, she asks me, "Does it hurt?" What do you think? I'm shoving a needle in my fat! Of course it hurts! No, it's not like Gardasil (I'd rather kill myself then get another shot like that), but it's not completely painless. I just lied and said, "Oh, it's not bad at all!" The worst part though, it that I've got to do it myself. I get all shaky and think, "Shit, for $250, I don't want to screw this up."

Anyway, my fatty fat self won't be around for long. I'll let you know my weight loss day to day, and my over all weight loss at the end.

So far, nothing.

Stupid Boys

I met Mark through mutual friends. I was told that I’d like him, and he’d like me. I was excited at the prospect of having a boyfriend. At the time, I was 16, and he was 19. So, not only was I going to get a boyfriend, but he was older! Oooh, yeah.

We chatted for a little bit through text, and he called, but we had no really met up yet. It’s some dumb teenager thing to fall for someone you see through pictures and texts, but I had to admit, my gut feeling was right. He was a cute, good guy.

So we hang out a little bit, and things get more and more flirty. Then he drops the bomb.

He had a girlfriend. A really pretty and successful girlfriend, at that.

I wasn’t too upset. After all, we had mostly been talking, not dating. It was fine that he had kept it from me too, because flirting isn’t cheating. Hanging out with a group of friends isn’t cheating. Sure, he should have told me earlier, but maybe he’s one of those, “You didn’t ask,” kind of people.

Then, things got a little MORE flirty. He began asking me to come over alone, just the two of us, and watch a movie. He suggested Hostel, a movie we had talked about, and I had told him for some strange reason, it turned me on. I saw straight through what he was doing, and flat out told him that I wasn’t going to be the ‘other woman’. He apologized, and told me he was extremely bored with her, but loved how things used to be, and couldn’t make himself just break things off.

I still stood strong and let him know that if he wanted me, he had to break up with her. He hemmed and hawed, but finally, one day, broke up with his girlfriend.

He texted me, telling me to call him after I got out of school (I know, he’s working and I’m still in high school. It’s a match made in crazy land.) When I called, he let me know that he had broken up with Lauren, his girlfriend, and wanted me to come over on Friday for our movie date. I’m sure I was weirded out by the fact that he got over her so fast and came onto me, but I figured, what the hell, why not?

On Friday, I left school with my best friend (Karen, but she’s another story) and we went to Mark’s house. His friend Ben was going to be there, and Karen liked him a whole bunch. We were all going to watch a movie, and then Karen was going to go home, and Ben was going to go to work. Ben and Karen stopped watching the movie, and started making out. It was awkward, and I wasn’t interested in the movie anymore. Mark and I moved into his room.

One thing led to another, and we had sex. Horrible, horrible sex. It didn’t last long, and I got nothing out of it. But whatever, because he promised he’d start listening to what I wanted. I was happy that he’d even care that I didn’t orgasm.

Yeah. That’s right. I lost my virginity while my best friend was getting fingered in the next room. So romantic. Karen wasn’t a virgin, and when we left, she asked why we were done so fast. Ha. It’s hilarious that she could tell we had sex, and knew how fast it truly was.

I was still really liking this guy, and he had stopped talking about his ex completely. I tried to get him to commit to me a couple of times, but he let me know that he was only in it for me, but didn’t want to be tied down.

We had sex one more time, but then my parents caught wind of how old he was and stopped letting me see him. I called him one night and asked him if I could sneak out and come see him, and he let me know he had gone back to his ex-girlfriend. In the two days I hadn’t talked to him. TWO DAYS.

I was crushed. How dare he? Still to this day, I’m in a lot of pain.

His girlfriend, Lauren and I talked occasionally, and she’s a whole different story, but he had never told her that he was seeing me. They had continued to have sex often, sometimes bouncing from me to her, and she never knew he had sex with me. So for my revenge, I told her. They broke up.

There is a lot more to this story, but it’s too much for today. More tomorrow.

Secret secret!

Here are some secrets/things you may not know about me.

1. I wear a pad (feminine hygiene) everyday. I don’t know how or why I got into the habit, but after having one to many times asking someone for a pad and having them say they had only a tampon, I started wearing them everyday.

2. I’ve always had a problem with my bladder. I remember I used to pee my pants everyday, in school, at home, even sometimes when I knew I had to go to the bathroom and just didn’t. It was a weird thing for me. I’d hold it as long as I could, then race to the bathroom, trying to make it in time. I never did. This ended up resulting in a lot of underwear changes, and lame excuses in elementary as to why I was wet. No one ever called my bluff, and I had plenty of friends. I was never labeled the girl that smelled like pee. One day, my dad told me that if I peed my pants, I couldn’t watch TV. I was good that whole day at school, and came home completely dry. I watched TV, and peed my pants on the couch instead of going to the bathroom. I was strange. I haven’t wet the bed in forever (Okay, there had been one recently, but it was after a surgery, and I wasn’t conscious).

3. I’m a chapstick junkie. I hate it when my lips are dry. I will carry chapstick with me just about everywhere, even amusement parks. I had a girlfriend once that teased me about my love for carmex. I had other tell me that they’d stop kissing me if I didn’t lay off the gross tasting chapstick.

4. I’ve been on some from of birth control since I was 12. They thought it would help my crazy periods. When I’m not on BC, I had periods that last 2-3 months at a time. It’s embarrassing for me, and the cramps are terrible. I often feel like I’m about to pass out when I’m on my period. Occasionally I have passed out, in school and at home, but I’m very cautious and don’t let many know what’s going on.

5. I was diagnosed with clinical depression at the same age as the last one. I have been on Lexapro, Prozac, Zoloft, Welbutrin, and now they’ve finally put me on Cymbalta. Apparently I’m not clinically depressed anymore, I’m bipolar. Yeah, kind of a big step, crazy doctors.

6. I’ve been in therapy for a long time. No one knows why I’m so depressed, why I hate my body, or why I cry over stupid things. I get sick a lot, so the doctors know my by my first name. They’re always telling me my therapists are stupid, and visa versa.

7. I was raised southern Baptist. My parents and I went to church every Sunday. I would go to Sunday School and color scenes of Samson and Delilah. I wasn’t allowed to watch the Smurfs or the Power Rangers. After a while, my parents became more liberal. I was allowed to dress up for Halloween, and after a while, we stopped going to church. God hasn’t talked to me since I was 12, so I’m beginning to think he isn’t real. We’ll see.

8. I slept in my parents bed, every night, until I was 11. Lame, I know. I didn’t even have my first sleep over until I was 9, and even then I couldn’t sleep at all. I also kissed my mom and dad before I went to sleep every night. That stopped when I started kissing boys and thought it was creepy to kiss them and then my dad in the same day.

So there you go. There are some weird things that you may have not known. You may think, “Wow, weirdo,” but I’m a pretty normal girl.

Mommy Dearest

My mother can not make a decision to save her life. I will ask her if we can go out to eat on her day off, and instead of committing, therefore making a decision, she’ll say, “Well, I don’t know. We’ll see.” Often, that means yes. But sometimes, I want to murder her.

Today, I hadn’t eaten anything for breakfast, had burned tons of calories on the elliptical, and was waiting for her to get home from her hair appointment. It was 1 pm when she walked in, and I was famished. After some questioning, she agreed that she was too, and she said we could grab some fast food before my dad got home from work.

We got in her car, rolled down the windows (It’s hot, and our air conditioning doesn’t work that well. L) and she turned to me and said, “So what do you want?”

Now, when I’m this hungry, I find myself zoning out of reality. I don’t care what the food takes it’s form in, as long as it’s got protein, and it will fill my stomach. I say, “I don’t know, mom. I’m very hungry, and don’t want to decide. Perhaps, you can choose?”

She starts the car, but doesn’t move. A blank look spreads over her young face, and she looks back at me.

“Well, what are you in the mood for?” Oooh, she’s good. Asking the same question, but different enough that I’d look like a bitch for telling her so. I smile politely.

“Burgers?” I ask, just trying to get her to move the car. It’s 100 degrees out. I’m sweaty, hungry, and I want to go back to sleep. “We could try Sonic.” I know she loves the place, and it’ll be fast.

“I don’t know. I don’t want a burger.” She starts the game. The, “I don’t know what I want, but I sure know what I don’t want!” game. It drives my dad up the walls, and he often chooses places without asking now.

However, I’m going to play it cool. I don’t want to choose, and I’ve already told her that. So I smile again, and ask, “Mom, can you please start driving somewhere? I’m getting crispy.”

I guess that reminded her of French fries, so she backed out and started driving aimlessly. She raved on and on about how French fries sounded so good, how she just wanted some so bad, we should go somewhere with fries!

“Okay, mom. Anywhere with fries is good. McDonald’s, Wendy’s, Burger King, etc.” It can’t be that hard. She just wants some damn fries.

“No, I shouldn’t have any fries. They’re not good for my diet.”

I had no idea what to do. It was almost 2, and I had not eaten for the day. Finally, I snapped.

“Mother, make a decision. I already told you I didn’t want to make the choice. Just get me some food, PLEASE.”

We ended up eating at Panda Express.

I guess in some crazy mom universe, orange chicken is better for your diet than French fries.

However, tonight when she held me as the local kids lit off bottle rockets (the 24th is a holiday here, so it’s legal still), I realized that I didn’t care that she never made a decision. She’s still my mom, and I still love her.

Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack

I moved a lot during my childhood. I never had friends that kept in touch, but that was mostly because I went to 9 elementary schools. I can’t remember most of my old friend's names. Even when my family moved to Utah for 6th grade, I didn't keep my friends very long. I would start with one, make another, lose the first one, love the second one, and then repeat over and over.

In middle school, I met Mary*. Mary was . . . for the lack of a better word, intense. She was extremely sexual, she pretended to know who she was and what she wanted, and she was disinterested in what people thought of her. She’d wear shirts that proudly stated “Parental advisory!” and tell me about her midnight escapades with boyfriends.

Mary changed everything for me. She let me know in the very beginning of our friendship that she liked girls, too. She called herself bisexual, and knew this was the right label for her. Even at the age of 14. She’d talk lovingly of her best friends, Ashley and Jazmin, and how gorgeous each were. She always had a crush on one or the other, but never crossed the line. They had been best friends since they were little, and she didn’t dare change that.

Her confidence in her sexuality made me question mine. I liked boys. I even had a regular girl crush on this cutie in my reading class. (He was into the Beatles and Queen. However, he was a total snob.) But I had never thought about liking girls. I knew that when I was younger, movies that had nudity in them were a turn on, but had never known that feeling as sexual exhilaration. The thought of experimenting with a girl was frightening, but I could see the benefits of a girl/girl relationship.

Just like everyone else had, I fell for Mary. She was everything I was not. Funny, charming, silly, and out there. I was the lonely book-worm, who listening to old music, and didn’t care that her hair wasn’t straight. Make-up? I had no concept of the word. Everything she did was pure poetry. I fell hard and fast.

My problem was that I actually told her. She was dating this guy named Jeremy, and he was doing the “I’m-an-older-guy-and-I-don’t-REALLY-like-you” act. She was head over heels for him. We’d sit around watching movies, and she’d tell me lovingly how he’d move in for a kiss, and then tease her by waiting, until finally smooching her. It was so romantic, but so heartbreaking. I knew that I had to tell her, because this wasn’t fair to me.

I decided to be the mature adult and tell her over Instant Messenger. (Okay, I know. Stupid. But I was young too!) She took a while to respond, and then lovingly said, “Meagan, I’m sorry. I don’t like you that way.” I was crushed! HOW COULD SHE NOT LIKE ME?! Well . . . I guess she was dating Jeremy. And she had never mentioned any feeling of lust toward me, BUT WHY?!

Whatever. I didn’t want to lose my best friend. I didn’t want to miss the D(ance)D(ance)R(evolution) competitions we had, and I didn’t want to miss baking cookies with her mom. I especially didn’t want to miss the next color she was going to dye her hair, which was going to be bubblegum pink.

So I shut my mouth. I waited. I waited. I waited. I was patient, kind, loving, caring, and overall the perfect best friend. I knew that if she was going to come around, she’d have to think of me as someone she could have feelings for and actually care about, and I was going to be that person! Or at least I hoped.

I pined over her for months and months, and then finally, she said yes. She said she’d date me. Of course, these ‘dates’ consisted of going to see a movie with a mutual friend, seeing each other at school, and asking her why she wouldn’t let me come over anymore. Then she told me she was being anti-social, but I realize now that she wanted nothing to do with me and didn’t want to hurt my feelings.

We ended up breaking up. Duh. I was hurt, wah wah wah. But I still owe it to her that she expanded my world, and that she made me think of different possibilities.

Best of all, we were still best friends.



*Names changed.

Oh, hello.

I'm M.W. I'm not like normal teenage girls. I admit, I cried during the Notebook, but I often watch Zombie movies and delight over Edward Norton in Fight Club. I started questioning everything in my life, like every normal teen, but add it with hormonal imbalanced and 'clinical' depression, and my life has been a whirlwind. I'm sure I've still got a fantastic life compared to kids starving in Africa.

Anyway, this is my blog. I'm 17, and I'm just making from day to day.