yikes

I am really becoming careless about updating this....
I continue to promise that I'll update regularly, and what happens? You poor people only get one post every four days. :/ Sorryyyy

Okay, so yesterday....I went to an Afghan party.
If you've read been reading my blog you know that Afghan parties (or any circumstance involving Afghans, for that matter) entails heinous amounts of food. Most likely enough to feed the entire population of Afghanistan.

Anyway, there were loads of people/relatives I hadn't seen in a while, and I was able to practice my Dari (official Afghan language). By then everyone knew about my raw-food diet.
However, REGARDLESS of that knowledge they possessed, they continued to badger me to EAT EAT EAT.
"Naan ta bukho dukhtar divaneh! Eat your food you crazy girl!"
The first few times they told me to get some food I politely refused. After a while, however (there were about 5o people there, mind you), I became increasingly frustrated with all the attention.

I was close to tears.

Then my dad's wife, "LH", came up to me and said "Skinny Love, why don't you just put a little food on your plate, because everyone is worrying about you, and it's rude not to eat their food anyway." AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I'm sure you can guess what I did next. I'm weak.
So I said to myself, fuck it, I'll eat some goddamn food so everyone will shut up and leave me alone.
So I went and got some food, but no, "some food" wasn't good enough for them.
Auntie fat Afghan Number 1 would be devastated if I didn't eat some of her delicious kofta and Auntie fat Afghan Number 34 would be deeply offended if I didn't eat some of scrumptious maantu & lubiya.

So I feasted, to the exasperated/approving nods of everyone.
"It's just because she's only half Afghan. She's got that crazy always-dieting American blood in her."
Yes, I overheard someone saying that. In Dari, of course, because there were some American relatives-by-marriage there.

Are you bored with my traumatizing experience yet?

So today, LH told me she was glad that I had put my RFD (new abbreviation for the raw-food diet) on a hold while I was visiting. She said it was depressing watching me eat my salad while everyone else indulged in "Afghan food, which is actually healthy."
Healthy? You call food that involves, yogurt, beef, oil, chicken, oil, oil oil, rice, bread, CARBS CHOLESTEROL FAT healthy?!?

I don't think so girlfraaann.

But, being the polite, unable-to-say-"no" person that I am, I just smiled at LH and told her I, too, was glad I put my RFD on hold for a while.
"I couldn't possibly stay for a week and eat only salad, when there's all this tasty Afghan food! Besides, I can always do my RFD some other time."
(at my house we rarely cook Afghan food, so coming to my dad's had always been a thing to look forward to, until I became aware of ed's.)

So there ya have it. For the past two days I've been a gluttonous pig.
While I'm furious that I allowed myself to give in, I will admit that LH's food is FUCKING FANTASTIC.
Yeah I will most likely be back in the 130's....but I've got the entire summer to change that (not that I shouldn't have changed myself months ago).

My cholesterol may be at 1,000 points when I leave my dad's house, but I will fix myself.

This is my absolute last week of over-indulgences and cuttin' myself slack. When I return from my summer job in August, I will be 100 pounds. I MUST BE. I can't go to uni looking like a hippopotamus. nononononononononono.

I don't know when I'll get on again. Just hang in there, my beloved blogger friends.

P.S.- Oh, and did I mention? My dad is 145 fucking pounds. 5' 8. ONE FORTY-FIVE! HIS BLOODY CALVES ARE THINNER THAN MINE. UNACCEPTABLE. I EAT MORE THAN HIM.