I weighed myself this morning and was pleased to find that I’d lost 6 pounds… of course, the fact that I did so by puking my brains out all day yesterday is hardly the point. The real point is this: bulimia works! I mean, Kate Moss and Nicole Richie are really on to something here… though I think I need to supplement the puking with lines of cocaine for maximum effect.
I’m not exactly sure what happened yesterday, but when I crashed drunkenly into bed the night before, I never thought that I would wake up in the morning all ready to spend the next 8 or so hours lying on my bathroom floor waiting for the inevitable Porcelain Session ™ to strike every few hours.
I’m fairly certain that it wasn’t from the drinking; as, even though I was trying to keep up with the semi-pro Thai Singer, we didn’t really drink that much, and she made a huge and amazing dinner that I’m sure would have dulled some of the alcohol’s effectiveness. I’m chalking it up to karma.
This, by the way, breaks my 20 year streak of not throwing up… the last time being when I was 12 or 13 after eating under-cooked french fries at Disneyland, going on The Teacups, and then being stuck in stop and go traffic on the 10 in the back of a hot car and heading back to the Inland Empire. At the onset of which my best friend whipped around from the front seat and yelled, “RAAAALPH!” and then laughed and laughed and laughed.