Sometimes it's good to live alone. I think I've mentioned before, that there is a certain "ahem" time of the month (and don't worry gents I'm not going to get graphic here) when my body gets all out of whack. I cry at commercials, I don't generally get mad at the general public--typically I take it out on my mom and myself. Don't feel bad for the maternal figure, she does the same damn thing. So out with it...

First the mom. She called today, it went like this:

Mom: Where do you want to go to dinner for your bday? Are you still ok with "La Italian Restaurant that Mom Likes" or would you like to go somewhere else.

Melina: What about FQB

Mom: Eww that hole in the wall! (yes she actually said that) Well ok, it's your birthday...

Melina: No that's fine it's just MY birthday and all! I'd love to go to the stupid Italian restaurant! (slams down the phone)

Melina: (dials her mom at work, screams into the phone) And you better be making me a chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting.

Mom's Bewildered Coworker: Who is this?

Melina: (hangs up)

Then there's the punishment I inflict on myself. Come home from work. Strip from work clothes. Grab gym clothes. Stop in front of mirror--rotate, poke, sigh, poke some more...take contacts out and look in the mirror...much better... (and believe me I know it's not all that bad, it's this time that throws me off kilter). Put contacts back in and go to the fridge.

The fridge. Ok here are the rules. I don't really like chocolate. I grab leftover Halloween candy and start gorging. Then I go to the pickles. I eat about one of every kind of pickle I have in my fridge (I have a lot of different kinds of pickles-don't ask). Then I need to balance the salt flavor and I eat some Skittles (leftover Halloween candy because I was too drunk to hand it out but I had about twenty tons of candy...and I don't like candy as a rule). Next stop after gorging...

The gym. Chelle and I got there at 5 pm and we tortured our bodies until about 7:3o, that's why I didn't feel too bad that I came home and gorged on a fabulous frozen dinner, three more pickles and then...it's almost too bad to write...
Then I picked up the pickle jar...
and I drank a good gulp of juice.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Finally satiation. Pickle juice, who knew?