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Monday, April 4, 2011

Friday, to the club, Saturday, to the club ...

After my mini-triumph making dinner, I felt invincible.

That is, until I arrived back in the country city and felt the stinging reminder that a 6.9kg loss does not a supermodel make.

Apparently it's ok to talk about someone like they aren't there and suggest to your friends, "Look at that!" when you're a group of post-pubescent men.

Although it's not unusual when you're roughly the size of a baby killer whale to feel like the elephant in the room, it's not nice to have it so pointedly, well, pointed out.
I think that moment ruined my night to an extent and I couldn't feel the same excitement I had earlier.
I went home early and didn't want to go back the next night when I was invited.
But I did, after spending the day with a good friend who brought me back to reality - I got ready and we went and had a great time.
The fact that I mainly drank tonic water and that I went home early again had nothing to do with the unforgivably rude behaviour of a male who I now think, after some positive reinforcement and diet jelly, is a total twat.
I went home and spent some quality time with another close girlfriend and remembered why I started this journey.
So I could spend more time with people like the wonderful ones I was with over the weekend, and less time worrying about people like that guy.

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