I bought a hookah! It's my christmas present to myself. It rocks my world. Nothing gets me more stoned, except perhaps the 4 ft. bong.

Other than that, the transit strike is on in NYC and if it lasts just a few more hours they will cancel my finals tomorrow at 8 a.m. I'm counting on that because I'm not even thinking about my history outline I'm supposed to be writing for my 6 page essay I'm supposed to write in two hours tomorrow morning. Watch me get screwed over and end up doing it all in just a few hours because MTA all goes back to work at the last minute. That would be my luck. As soon as they cancel my exam tomorrow I'm gonna pack 3 grams into my hookah and smoke it ALL. I go home on Friday morning.

Everything sucks i want to die. Nobody wants to be my friend and I don't know what I did wrong. Everyone is angry with me and they say they never want to speak to me again. What the fuck did I do? Screw them, other than that life just sucks in general. I just want to cry. My idiot boyfriend deleted my hard drive on my computer so I can't connect to the internet using my cable connection, and this error message pops up telling me to please contact my service provider, so the logical thing to do would be to call my service prodiver- Time Warner! Right? Well according to my mother the correct thing to do would not be to call the service provider, as the computer is telling me to do, but instead my mom wants me to take it back to the computer store? What the fuck! She told me atleast 972 times to take it to the store, but why should I pay someone else, they're probably just going to call the service provider themselves- like the computer says. She's driving me insane, I told he to stop, I was crying and screaming and cursing and she just kept telling me to take it to the store and I warned her I was gonna snap and I did, and I threw my cellphone at the wall so hard that it severed the cord at the earpiece. Well my new phone is here now so no harm done. Except a little piece of my sanity slipping away. I'm not hungry at all even though I haven't eaten anything yet today, but it's only 1 pm so it's still really early. I'm understandably so depressed with everything going on and I really just want to go downstairs to the diner and eat and eat and eat. I want a ham bacon and american cheese omellette with a side of bacon and home fries, lots of seasoning salt, pepper and ketchup, and a huge glass of milk. I think I have an egg in the refrigerator but it's way too early to eat still, if I eat now it will just make me really hungry later and then I'll end up bingeing and I certainly think I did enough throwing up last night. Oooh, I still have an orange, I could go get some fruit and make a fruit salad, but if I try to go out I know that I'll end up eating. I'm going home next week so I wanna be nice and thin, I want my belly to be nice and flat for my boyfriend. I just feel better, cuter when I weigh less, I have this cute little springy walk and I just feel so comfortable in my skin and my body. I know that it refects big time in my self-confidence. I hope to be thin enough by Christmas so I don't really have to worry about what I eat at holiday dinners, a d when I'm with my boyfriend there's absolutely no mention of calories or diets, we order pizza, go out to eat, go to steakhouses, chinese food ALL the time, but I think I work off those calories when I'm with him too, god we have some hot sex. I don't think that he would find me as attractive if I voiced all of my insecurities, it would probably get old after a while. Besides, there's no point in drawing his attention to all of my flaws, I'd rather have him focus on how gorgeous I am.

Well today was my official last day of classes for my first semester of college and I just didn't feel up to it today. So I stayed in bed. I just didn't want to go to school for some stupid 50 minute class so now I have to e-mail my instructor to try to get her send me the final.
I just don't feel good. I feel like shit, my pulse is racing, my palms are sweaty, I'm still suffering these damn anxiety/panic attacks. I feel miserable. I went to the school doctor the other day about my anxiety problems and played some ignorance until she gave me Xanax. It was only 15 .5 mg pills but it gets rid of the anxiety attack.
I'm really having trouble with my diet. For the past two days it's been really hard not to eat anything, so instead I've been indulging a bit and then vomiting. Yesterday I threw up every single thing I ate!
Apparently there's a crazy lady in my building. When I went out for ice cream last night there was this drunk, I mean bombed! lady in the hallway on my floor screaming. She was hollering something about the man next door beating his wife and how she disappeared right after the baby was born. She kept yelling, "mother fucker, I didn't ask for it but I'll sure as hell finish it, I'll kill you mother fucker, i'll fucking kill you!" and the such. I called the cops on her once and they came and pushed her back into her apartment once, then not two minutes later she was back in the hallway screaming the same nonsense. So I called the cops again and when they got here they tried to push her back into her apartment, that's when I opened the door and told the cops how she was kicking my door until the paint chips were falling off, making threats and all that nonsense. They made it clear that she was going to jail. Crazy woman. I mean I was drunk too, but I didn't need to go getting arrested for it.

I woke up this morning, well, every hour this morning because I lost my cell phone last night and therefore had no alarm clock. Instinctively I woke up every hour so that I wasn't late, but I was. I woke up at 7:30, I'm supposed to get up at 7. That didn't matter, maybe the fact that I was hungover was the reason behind my tummy-ache, probably. By the time I got to the subway station I was already 50 minutes later than not too late. Then I realized that I didn't have my wallet, that means no money, no metrocard, no i.d., that means that I can't get into school, but I was lucky to find $4 in my pocket which buys me a round trip fare. Luckily one of my friends bought me breakfast. Then I went to type a paper and as I was finishing and trying to save it to me flash drive and error message came up and told me that it was closing the file-date not saved. Mother of a Bitch Fucker! Screw the fucking world. Oh, and by the way, don't ever even think of trying to take intro to music at CCNY unless you've already taken english. They won't let you take anything unless you've already taken english. Then why the hell didn't they put me in english last semester. They're retarded for sure. Then I went to see the school doctor for anxiety attacks and got a little upset, apologized and she wrote me xanax. I shouldn't have told my boyfriend, he got pissed about it and totally made me feel like a junkie, then he apologized, but it was so cute because I was on the train for 2 hours and my cell phone doesn't work on the train(I found it this morning) so I didn't know and he was upset because he thought I was mad and was leaving me the sweetest messages. I'm actually kinda glad it happened because it reassures me that he is still into the relationship even though we only see eachother at best a few times a month. I love him so much.

I spent so much time trying to convince the school doctor that I wasn't depressed and now I am so totally depressed. Irony sucks. This is the last week of classes and then I have two exams but really only one and like five or six papers. I want to go home.

I don't really have any opinions today other than life sucks, I just want to lie here and get high. I think I better bring this to a close, soon.
I finished my doomed paper and decided to take my pocker change and go to the corner stand and purchase a hotdog before they closed, but sure enough they went home early today, fuck you, school food sucks, fuck school food, fuck school. On top of that it was just fucking cold. I think the whole day can be summed up by the imagery of me walking down the hill, 3 like avenue blocks to the subway station and since I had lost one of my $100 leather gloves I was trying to hide my hands inside my jacket while simultaneously smoking a cigarette. But it was too cold even for a cigarette to stay lit and the air I was inhaling even when it was lit was still cold and brittle. I once wondered what it was like to live in the arctic and now I believe I know. Just passing the piles of snow remind me of ice bergs. I envision us all as little penguins waddling about through the ice on our naturnal missions. Yes, I know that I just invented that word, who cares? Anyway, as I walked through the cold down the hill attempting to smoke I thought to myself that this would have been the perfect day to stay home. I was right, too bad I never listen to myself. Oh very soon. Oh very soon. Praise the lord oh very soon. I want to go home.

I have a secret. I've never told anyone the truth before. Every word out of my mouth on this particular subject has been a bold-faced lie. When I was in the sixth grade I started wearing make-up and trying to fit in with the popular crowd. I didn't care much what I looked like in fifth grade, I did't think I was pretty, but that was about the extent of my self conscious awareness of my own body. By sixth grade I desperately wanted to be popular, I tried to talk to the popular girls, I tried to sit with them at lunch, but there were only 7 people allowed at a table and every seat was taken, if I even looked at the chair at the table then one of the girls would inevitably chime in without so much a word from me, "You can't sit there, that's Kaleigh's seat." My only hope of sitting with them at lunch was for one of the regular girls to be absent. In seventh grade there was this new boy at our school, James. He was without a doubt the most popular boy among the girls in our school. Everyone had a crush on him, he was one of the pretty boy athletic guys. He was cute though. I never really gave him a secocnd thought until one of my friends came up to me in the hallway and told me that she found out that he had a crush on me. I was shocked, to say the least. No one except the geeky fat boy in class had ever had a crush on me or shown the slightest interest in me. But here the most popular boy in the entire school liked ME! Within only a few days word spread through the school and I was instantly popular. Everyone was tlaking about me and for the first time in my life it was GOOD. I was voted most fashionable and people began to invite me to parties and my life took off. I was so happy. Then came eighth year. This year started out fine, but after only a few weeks I was suspended from school for the first time. I had been experimenting with smoking cigarettes and had even found some of my father's weed, and of course I made the mistake of telling two of my good friends. They were pissed, I expected them to be curious and want to know what it was like, but they were just angry with me for smoking. One began telling people at school that I was a "junkie" for smoking pot once. In all fairness, it was a couple TINY roaches that were like 20 years old. I wouldn't become a junkie for a year or two yet. My other friend and sort of boyfriend brought a tape recorder on the bus one morning and made a scene about me smoking. He claimed that he didn't me anything by it, but about 15 fifth graders went to the office and told on me. I didn't even have cigarettes on me and they still suspended me. I no longer speak to this boy, I thought I loved him but it was just a school girl crush; years later I would have a month long (or so) affair with him and then never hear from him again. As a result of my suspension, my mother forced me to go to therapy, where they put me on Zoloft, which actually made me so depressed that I didn't give a fuck about what was goig on around me. I wasn't happy, I was sad, I wasn't angry, I didn't feel ANYTHING. It sucked and I stopped taking it. By Christmas I had begun having some major issues with my body image. I was conviced that while I wasn't fat, I wasn't thin enough. I was probably about 5'4" and 107-115 pounds. Not in the least over weight, but my thighs were kind of shaky and chunky to me and my tummy bulged. My father always had a pot/beer belly and I guess I kind of inherited it. It is really hard for a teenage girl to accept the fact that she's unattractive. In order to slim my tummy down a bit I tried to "diet." At first I tried to eat nothing but fruit, but this was too unrealistic. Soon I decided to try a non diet. My strategy here was to eat nothing. At first I found that nearly impossible to do, and I would not eat in the mornings but by the afternoons i would come home and binge. Since I was already getting more than my daily alloted calorie amount, I had to do something to counter balance it. My new weight loss plan was to eat whatever I wanted to and then I would vomit it back up. I didn't do this but for a few weeks as it was getting smelly with all that vomit around and I was also afraid that my mother would find it. It's much easier to hide not eating anyhting than it is to hide 20 pounds of vomit. I quit caring so much in the 8th grade about being popular. As long as they didn't hate me I was fine with them. I remember going to Christmas dinner at a friend's house and then as soon as I got home I started to induce vomit. Bulimia is so gross!
By highschool I had become a little more depressed than usual. Over winter break I think I locked myself in my room and did nothing but eat for two and half weeks. By February I hit my peak weight of 122 pounds. I was sick of gaining weight and was determined to make a change. I quit eating, no breakfast, no lunch, no dinner. Nothing. Over the next year and a half I would steadily lose weight. Finally, by December of my junior year I was sick. I felt miserable all the time and finally began seeking the help of doctors after my boyfriend and I broke-up. At 16 years old, 5'4", I weighed only 86 pounds. I was 22 pounds underweight and had lost a total of 36 pounds. Now I just want to get my weight down to 95-100 pounds. I just want my tummy pooch to go away. As of current, I haven't eaten a damn thing since Wednesday. I have a secret, I am anorexic. Even my doctors said that if I was anorexic than I was the best they've ever seen at concealing it. What can I say, I guess I'm the best.