My scale is so out of whack it's become unreliable. I stepped on this morning, and it read 119, which is believable. But when I stepped on just now it read something completely rediculous and impossible! There's no freaking way that I'm 113.5 at this very moment in time. Not even with as much restricting as I've been doing, that just isn't possible. So, I verified it with my grandmother's analogue scale. Although it isn't readable between the 0 and 5 pound marks, it said that I was around 119, and that put my heart at peace knowing what my weight was.
I'm not hungry yet. I haven't eaten all day. I feel completely fine, which is good because one of my best friends is having her annual murder mystery birthday party tonight. I get to dress up as a Hollywood starlet, and planned on wearing the long, red dress I wore to last year's homecoming, but when I tried it on it nearly fell off. That's positively awesome. It was a 6 when I bought it, a 4 when my grandmother altered it so I could wear it to homecoming, and it doesn't fit meaning I'm probably a 2! Yay! Now if my pant size would zero-out I'd be closer to happiness. I'm positive I'm still a 7 in pants, if not a 5. My boobs are getting smaller... but totally not doing that shriveled-up prune thing that I've read about. Take care! I'm off to bake some scones and finish curling my hair. It's a little Gaga-esque, but it'll work ;)
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