Up, Up, Up and Away

Step dad is a freak. A weird, bald, greasy freak. He's embarrassing.
And to be frank with myself, I freaking HATE him, more than I have every hated anyone in my entire life.
He thinks he can tell me what do to just because he has a piece of paper and a band of metal around his fat finger that states him and my mother are married.
But do I retaliate? No. Will I post true facts about him on my secret blog? Yes. But he doesn't know about my blog. Moving on, will I say it to his face, all these things that I will write about him? I don't think he'll ever know.

This evil man is the reason for the God-awful mistake I made today.

A BINGE.

I am a fat cow, eating everything in sight, the ice cream, the milk, the Oreos, the pasta, the PEANUT BUTTER.
Stating Friday: under 500 calories. If not, I will proceed to rip my heart out and eat it.

Gross.

Moving on, it's been snowing. I'm dying to go outside and take some pictures, but Almighty Mother says no. In the morning, with fresh snow glittering in the streetlight, it looks like someone put Edward Cullen over a cheese grater set to VERY FINE, because it looks like little shards of diamond on the sidewalk. I keep forgetting to bring my camera with me. Err.