Food and weight-maintenence blog for the POST diet girl

Archive for May, 2012

Eating on purpose

I had an appointment at Planned Parenthood to take care of my girly parts. No breakfast. No time.

Since I was already out and about I decided to stop at the ex-loser’s house to pick up some more shit that I needed. I also had to clean out my old work room so that he could put down new carpet and put in an ad for a roommate. I actually did not have a bad time. I cleaned out everything except for some old things I’d kept since we were kids. A box of old letters from him from High School, a couple of hats that he left in my room once when I was 17, a folder of pictures and other things from him also given to me when he was 14. I put those things into a corner and told him I should throw them out, but didn’t have the heart to. I didn’t want them. He could do whatever he wanted with them. He said he would probably put them into a box and keep them.

What an idiot.

I contemplated going to my grandma’s. I promised her a visit at some point this week. I know she’ll try to take me out to eat. Can I make some sort of excuse? Ah! I have all of this stuff in my car that I’m moving and the front seat is too full of stuff to fit someone! That’s a good excuse! I’ll use that. I will visit her.

She takes one look at me and knows something is wrong. Because I look like shit. She calls me a “skinny minnie” which in her gentle way means she thinks I’m too thin. I told her how I’d been depressed. I hadn’t eaten, save for a rib and a couple of pieces of broccoli at the reunion and 1 piece of fruit this day or that day, in about 5 days. She tells me “Well, I can’t tell you what to do, but I can give you love and hope that helps.” I start telling her about G (PFH#3) and how disappointed he would be if he knew I still wasn’t eating and this made me start to cry. I’m normally a lot stronger around my grandma. I thought that I couldn’t hurt him or my grandma like this. It’s stupid and pointless. I hate looking like crap. So she took me out to lunch where I had a small cup of vegetable soup and about 1/4 of this massive turkey salad. I took the rest of it home.

My grandma gave me money for a counter-height table that I’d had my eye on. I can’t wait to start cooking on it!

She also gave me a BEAUTIFUL wooden cutting board.

I think she is trying to encourage me to eat, no?

I unpack my car at home and get some equipment set up in the basement for some business related things. In between all of this I am flirting with Potential Future Husband #1 on the computer and let others know that I’m going to be OK. I finish up a project and sit down to eat the rest of my salad. I get through about half of it. I just can’t eat any more. I throw out the rest. I did the very best I could. I was going to try and choke down all of it just to get it into me, but I didn’t want to make myself sick. That would be counter-productive.

I promised another friend I would have breakfast in the morning.

I will.


This sucks

I had a banana.

And the only reason I did that was because I was going dancing and can’t afford to have an ambulance called on me if I pass out.

I wore a super tiny crocheted rainbow top and a little black skirt. My entire midsection was showing. I look like I’m dying. I look like shit.

I hate it.

His ex-girlfriend got to see him. She lives in the same apartment complex as him. I did not get to see him. She had to go and post all over Facebook about how much he loved his birthday present she gave him and all that.

I need a smoke/dinner.

Please don’t tell G…

(I can’t fucking stand the thought of hurting him.)


This shit sucks.

I casually in the middle of conversation told Potential Future Husband #1 that I miss him.

He did not say it back.

So I did not eat.

At some point in the afternoon I had a small orange.

I went on a walk and bought cigarettes. I don’t even smoke.

I plan on living off of those for my meals for the next few days.

I did go to work and give my last cupcake to G (Potential Future Husband #3, technically). I sort of just went back to his department, put it down on the register whispering “This is for you….I gotta go, bye!” And he stood there in shock and awe with this beautiful happy/confused look on his face and eventually managed a “Wow…thank you…” as I left and waved at him.

I got to chat with him on the computer later at night. He told me I was quite the “talented baker” and likened me to a Cupcake Fairy who brings cupcakes to those they find deserving and then flit away. Sort of like me. ^_^ I admitted to him that he’d brightened my day. I was severely depressed. I know that he quit smoking years ago, so I admitted to him that I’d bought a pack of cigarettes. He absolutely BEGGED me to throw them out. I told him I’d not eaten in 3 days. He reminded me that food is fuel and I need it to function, he knows I had an ED at one point and knows I’ll just get even more depressed if I don’t eat. I tell him these things because I want him to yell at me. I want someone to care. He’s such a wonderful guy. He takes such amazing care of me, which I told him. He deserves so much more than what life has given him. He needs proper fucked.

I’m working on that.

It’s all so stupid. I have nothing to be depressed over. I talked to PFH#1 on the computer this night as well. He was just as flirty and rambunctious as usual. We had a great time chatting. He invited me over sometime to watch more stuff with him. It was nice talking to both of them at at the same time. They’re both wonderful guys…

He’s having dinner with his parents, so I don’t get to cook for him for his birthday.

I think I’m going dancing tomorrow night.

It’s going to be hard as my energy will be fucked due to the fact that I have not eaten.

It’s better than drinking all day….which was my other option.

Exercise: 5 mile walk

I’m not OK (I proimise)

Got up early and started my morning off right…

Just a small extension of yesterdays antics.

Cupcakes still look gorgeous in the fridge. I hope they taste ok, I have not tried one.

No breakfast, not hungry.

My brother brings me something to carry my cupcakes in. I keep forgetting I don’t have things. I am poor.

We drive up to my Aunt and Uncle’s house. My Aunt has heard of my “famous cupcakes” and simply must take a peek. Here’s hoping they taste as good as they look.

This small town is putting on a Memorial Day parade. My brother and I want to go watch it. We park in a Family Dollar parking lot and walk up the street past the parade (waving at everyone and catching Tootsie rolls, which I put into my purse and do not eat…I love Toostie rolls…) up to the park where the picnic will be. We shoot the shit around there for a little while, walk back to the car and drive back to the house. We help load food and whatnots into the cars and head off back to the park.

It is very hot and the only thing I can think of is “I really hope my buttercream doesn’t melt off…”

My life truly revolves around food.

Even though I haven’t eaten any in 2 days.

There’s so much food. SO much food. Normally, this would excite me. Today, I am apathetic. I want to be excited, but I’m just not hungry. My brother knows I haven’t eaten. He encourages me to grab something. Just something. Even if its the only thing I eat all day.

I go for a cupcake first just to make certain they don’t suck.

They are some of the best I’ve made yet.

I find the smallest piece of rib I can find (2 bones). I grab the smallest piece of chicken I see. I take a very small serving of my brother’s broccoli salad (literally only 3 pieces of broccoli, some raisins and some onion). I grab a little pasta salad, some cherry tomatoes and baby carrots.

I eat the small portion of ribs and broccoli salad. I eat not even half of the small chicken breast. I pick at the pasta salad. I eat the cherry tomatoes, but not the carrots. I’ve left half a plate of food. I feel terrible, I HATE wasting food. But I can’t eat any more. I feel sick.

I also remember afterwards that it is Monday and I shouldn’t have eaten any of that.


My mind has been gone. It is not here. It is with him.

I miss him more than I’ve missed anyone in my life.

My cupcakes are a MASSIVE hit. My cousin INSISTS I open my own shop and goes around to everyone making certain they’ve tried one. Everyone who does agrees with her. I feel wonderful. Sick, but wonderful.

I have 1 left over. I decide I will take it to work and give it to G. If he’s there. I know he has some nerd convention that he is going to this week (can’t imagine why I like him) but cannot remember when it is. He’s always so goddamn sweet to me and taking me home every night and whatnot, he deserves one of my cupcakes. When I get home, I work on a project for a couple hours. I get that finished then go to call work to ask if he is there. The phone rings out. Shit. It’s a holiday, they are closed already. If he was there he is long gone.


I finish up another order and get it packaged. I decide to go on a night walk. No dinner. I’m not hungry.

At 9:30 ish I leave. I walk to the farthest post office, literally dancing all the way there and back listening to REM, Queens of the Stone Age, NIN, Simon & Garfunkel… It’s such a beautiful evening. I am so happy.

I miss him so much.

I will make up my Meatless Monday once again with a Meatless Tuesday instead. Knowing how I’ve been lately, it’ll just end up being “Foodless Tuesday” anyway.

I want to just drive to his place. And just cry to him. And tell him how much I miss him. How I couldn’t go another minute without seeing him. How I’ve missed him for years. How if I have to go one more fucking day without him I will lose my shit.

He and I have never worked that way. We’ve never once in our lives expressed our feelings AT ALL for each other. Not even when we were fucking 10 years ago. I would just go home without so much as a “Wham bam, thank you ma’am”. We never talked about it. Not before. Not during. Not after.

He told me he loved me once. Probably about 3 years ago. While I was married. He might have been drunk.

I told him I loved him too.

Exercise: Walk up and town small town street/park a couple miles, 4 mile night walk.


I think my plan is to get my workout for the day through continuous masturbation.

Because that’s all I’ve been doing.

All day.

I’m utterly insatiable.

Be right back…

Food Fail

I am sorry. I could not eat today.

I tried. I went to the fridge and opened it and tried to find something, ANYTHING appetizing.

My stomach did not growl all day.

I remember when this used to happen to me. I am lovesick.

And all of the time I should have spent making and eating food I used to get off instead.

I did however make cupcakes.

Extra Lemony Buttermilk Cupcakes with Raspberry Lemon custard filling and Lemon Buttercream frosting topped with a fresh Raspberry

My first attempt at the cupcakes themselves were a fail. They did not rise or cook through all the way at all. It was a recipe using sour cream, I’m also learning how my new oven works still. They’re all different. So this time I tried an Ina Garten recipe for lemon cake using buttermilk instead. She did not disappoint, none of my Food Network stars do. They rose beautifully and cooked all the way through. They were moist and fluffy. Though I tried the batter to make sure it was lemony enough, I did not try an actual cupcake. I was only able to make 12. I want all of them for the reunion. So I’m just going to trust they don’t suck. I made a lemon raspberry filling out of lemon pudding mix, fresh lemon juice, fresh raspberries, sugar, water and an egg yolk for that custardy consistency. The buttercream frosting was made from butter, sugar, fresh squeezed lemon juice, lemon zest and powdered sugar.

I gotta go right now.

Exercise: 8 hours of getting off.


I am freaking out entirely now.

I thought I was bad yesterday.

At least I’m going to the house to pack up some more shit before going on my date.

I also made a make-ahead breakfast last night so I could throw it in the oven and get an early start on my incredibly anxious day.

Strawberry Rhubarb Baked French Toast

Adapted from:


1 loaf French Bread
6 large eggs
2 1/2 cups milk (This is where I get crazy, I used half buttermilk, half sweetened condensed milk)
3/4 cups granulated sugar
1 teaspoon orange zest
2 tablespoons vanilla extract
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 cup sliced strawberries
1 cup sliced rhubarb

Streusel Topping:
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup cold butter, cut into pieces

Maple syrup-for serving


1. Spray a 9 x 13-inch baking pan with cooking spray. Tear French bread into chunks, or cut into cubes, and evenly place in the pan.

2. In a large bowl, mix together eggs and milk. In a small bowl, combine sugar and orange zest. Rub together with your fingers until fragrant. Add sugar mixture to the eggs and milk. Add in vanilla extract and cinnamon. Stir until combined. Pour evenly over bread. Combine strawberries and rhubarb together in a medium bowl. Pour evenly over French toast. Take a spoon and poke the strawberries and rhubarb down into the bread. Cover the pan with saran wrap and store in the refrigerator for several hours or overnight.

3. In a separate bowl, mix together flour, brown sugar, cinnamon, and salt. Add butter pieces and cut into the dry mixture using a fork or your hands. Combine until the mixture resembles sand with a few pea sized chunks. Cover and store mixture in the refrigerator.

4. When you’re ready to bake the French toast, preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Remove French toast from refrigerator and sprinkle crumb mixture over the top. Bake for 45-55 minutes, or until the French toast is set and golden brown.

5. Serve warm with maple syrup.

*I needed a treat. I needed to do ANYTHING to make me less anxious. I made this the night before knowing I needed to use up strawberries, rhubarb, and sweetened condensed milk. It was so decadent, so custardy and sweet, SO bad for me…I felt great afterwards. Hehe. I only ate half luckily. I had to run to the house at 10 AM to start moving more shit.

Spent 5 hours at the house. At least ex-idiot was cordial and offered me lunch (which I did not take, though it was nice he offered) and shared his york peppermint patties with me. Candy is my sanity-food right now. I did ask him if my handcuffs were still under the bed (yes kids, I own a pair of Smith & Wesson black with blue finish handcuffs…used to use them on Potential Future Husband #1) while he was cleaning under there and asked him to grab them for me.

He knows I’m going on a date tonight. I’m sure his mind is just racing. Good. Stupid idiot.

I got home and unloaded the boxes into the basement. The other tennant was freaking out over this MASSIVE spider in the basement. She said she wouldn’t do her laundry because she was scared of it. She didn’t want to kill it and was actually waiting for me to come home to see if I could help her. Incredibly cute. I assured her I would take care of the situation. I coaxed the palm-sized spider into a bag I was already holding and let him go out next to a tree behind the garage. He was so cute. ^_^


PB&J w/Apple

Too nervous to cook.

Asked him if he wants me to show up early. He said yes. I asked him what I should wear. He said anything I want.

So I go all out.

Shave legs, underarms, bikini line (just in case)
Use scented soap I think he would like
Do my hair (it looked PERFECT)
Do my make-up (I pretty much only ever put on make-up for special occasions)
Pick out a beautiful skirt from Express circa 2000
Black button-up shirt that makes me look really thin
Multi-gold 4 inch heels
Re-paint my nails with a pink that my sister-in-law gave me
Pink sapphire heart necklace
No panties

I look so incredibly fabulous and fuckable. NO MAN could possibly resist.

I warn him that I am overdressed. And heading over.

I am so nervous.

I’m shaking as I’m putting on my nail polish. I somehow manage to not completely fuck it all up. I don’t know how.

I tell my cousin that I’m insanely nervous. She tells me not to worry. I got this. I’m beautiful. He already is crazy about me, everything will be fine.

And off I go.

I get there about half an hour before anyone else. He is actually outside when I show up throwing stuff away (obviously cleaning for guests and whatnot). I make a grand exit from my car. He says I am not overdressed. I look awesome. We go in and just casually watch some recorded stuff on TV so he can clear space for the UFC fight to record. We laugh and chat and just sort of…be ourselves. No pressure. I’m feeling less anxious. I remember why I like him so much. I’m so at ease around him.

Guests start to show up. I of course hope they see how hot I am. I hope they’re jealous of him. I hope they tell him hes so getting laid that night while I’m out of the room. I love it.

While watching the fight, we sit close, but not enough to make it completely obvious that we’d rather be all over each other. Commentary from the guys is hilarious. I’ve missed hanging out with this group. A lot. One of the guys brings candy. 4 bags of candy. Hallelujah my fucking savoir. I eat Rolos and Twizzlers and Sour Patch Kids all night. PFH#1 orders pizza, mentions earlier in the evening that he wanted to order the chicken BBQ one, but that he tends to get it without pineapple. I mention that I adore pineapple (of course) and would love it if he ordered it half with and half without.

He just orders the whole thing with pineapple.

AND eats it.

THAT. THAT kids, means something to me. Just the fact that he’s willing to try things and go out of his way for me is fucking awesome. Especially when it comes to food. Food means a lot to me. THAT was quite a gesture.

We have an awesome time, I am very much at ease around his friends because I know them all so well already. Its as if we didn’t all spend most of the past 10 years apart.

The boys all leave. I make it RATHER obvious that I am staying behind. I have no intentions of going anywhere yet. He goes out with the guys to throw out the pizza boxes (cleanliness, I like this) and I hope they all told him he was getting laid. I love that I know they’re talking about me. With “good luck”s and all that.

He comes back in and we watch Wilfred, a program I recommended that is awesome. While watching I do eventually make a move and grab his arm and rest my head on his shoulder. He rested his head on mine. It was incredibly pleasant. I could have fallen asleep from contentment. As I go to leave we hug for a little too long in the doorway. I contemplate kissing his cheek. Doing something. We let go and talk for a minute longer. We hug again, as his hands slowly work their way down to my backside,  I give him a very tender, short goodnight kiss on the lips.

He said “Thank you…” afterwards in the most shy way I’ve ever heard.

I leave.

I miss him so much already.