1.  Ate entire Toblerone bar as pre-dinner treat and then two slices of Papa John’s pizza from fridge.  Am experiencing odd stomach pains.  Not good trend.  If want to be able to gorge self at all seven or twelve Christmas parties in coming week, must get weight off beforehand.  Weigh currently 135.  Ghastly.

2.  Employer and friend Aunt Betty did give me an early Christmas present, though, independent of food.  (Though not independent of figure.)  As I was leaving yesterday she gave me money to put toward a pair of jeans, which I had sworn to purchase, come hell or high water, before the day was out.  On way back to … well, on way, stopped at West Town and found lovely dark denim skinny Levi’s and haven’t stopped wearing them.  Got them a size too small so must lose weight, ha.

3.  Have been reading Bridget Jones’s Diary all evening while Jo reads The Heart’s Journey Home or similar.  Really cannot read Helen Fielding without assuming clipped British style, or similar.  Also cannot read Helen Fielding without remembering particular horrors and intrigues of single life, and really half missing them.  Suppose one can only half miss being Singleton when Smug Married, and only half miss being Smug Married when Singleton.  Although postmodern culture is morass of Singleton misery, Smug Married misery is just as rampant and decidedly less sexy.

4.  Am soberly and profoundly grateful for one corollary of dating: not having to go alone to horrible long parties.  Must have forgotten wretchedness of this position on purpose, as have not thought about it since reading Bridget’s account of the Tart and Vicar party, and the Alconbury’s ruby wedding party.  A party can be such a dreadful thing.  Much better sit at home (or, in my case, Jo’s home) and eat chocolate and read about other people’s lives, even if fictional.

5.  I would like to be interested in my own life, though.  Maybe after holidays.  When 450 lbs and facing 2011 devoid of ambition and self-confidence.  Brilliant.

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