Coming in January, I think I'm gonna go back to trying to lose weight. Hopefully I'll stick with it much longer than I did before. I'd be nice to lose another 30 pounds, even better would be 40, but I don't think I'll get much beyond that. I'm fine with between 110 and 120 pounds, which would put me at slightly overweight. And just in case a random person is reading this and freaking out about the poundage, I'm under five feet. Normal for my height is 90-110. The last time I was 115 was when I was fourth or fifth grade, and when I got my period for the first time, it shot up to 120, 125...and eventually to 130. Of course, that was a while ago, and I weigh more now. I have no illusions that I might not be able to go below 120. Even then, that's not a bad weight, as long as I exercise. I'm hoping to get out of heart attack territory - barring any other factor other than smoking and drinking, like sleep apnea or ill-working heart valves - and be a little bit healthier.

And if you, random person, would instantly congratulate me on such a lofty goal, well, stuff it. I don't want your platitudes and congratulations. You don't know me and it's fake to say it. Hell, when extended members of my family say it, I want to punch them. I do it only because I want to eat healthy and exercise, and if I don't lose any weight, well, that's fine with me. It'd be nice, that is what I want to do, but my years as an invisible short fat woman have taught me that shit like that doesn't matter.