Wow, that woman pissed me off.

And, I'm not the only one, there's 319 comments on that piece of trash. In case you didn't see the article, you can find it here: http://www.marieclaire.com/sex-love/dating-blog/overweight-couples-on-television#comments.

I know this woman isn't the only person who sees fat people in such a close-minded way. I haven't felt so much like I was back in high school in a long while. Probably, the last time was in '05 or '06 (faulty memory, thanks fibro-fog) when I was taking my friend's little girl into the mall to meet her mom after work. We had had a lovely afternoon of playing and pretending, and that little girl who always smiled up at me with an admiring sparkle in her eyes was holding my hand as we walked. This was when I was still young and vain enough to shy away from using a cane, and I was huffing through the pain and instability, because I had to be strong with this little angel at my side. If you've been to Barton Creek Mall, you know there's plenty of seating outside the entrance near the AMC theater. I could've sat down and had a rest break, like normal, however, there was a group of random, unsupervised teenagers, ready to pounce. As I neared them, I heard some sort of idiotic, derogatory fat comment that I don't remember. I ignored it, and kept walking. Seconds later, I hear, "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue...or did you eat that, too?". A chorus of laughter followed. I probably winced inside, but I kept my head held high. I wanted to flip them off, or yell a retort, or put my fist through all their faces. If I hadn't had this innocent, darling, Wendy-idolizing tot at my side, I would've done at least one of those things, but I wanted to shelter her from such ugliness. I really wished the world could be the magical fairy land we pretended it was, and we could all ride around on unicorns. I certainly wasn't going to introduce her to fat hatred and bigotry.  I was still in grief at this time in my life, and the blow to my ego certainly didn't help, but I've dealt with this brand of asshole all my years, and thankfully I've always known I was the better person.

I  HATE the mall.

I took my first dose of Lyrica last night, and other than a short time of feeling like things were crawling on me, and being itchy and sleepy...I don't notice any significant difference or ill side effects.

There are donuts on the kitchen table. Donuts that I can't eat. Donuts that I refuse to eat. There are gluten-free donuts in the fridge that I can eat. Gluten-free donuts, that are still sugary and high calorie. Gluten-free donuts that I shouldn't eat, but I find comfort in their presence. Why? Because, I know that as bad as they might be for me, if I can not stand the craving anymore, they aren't as bad as those donuts on the table. Still, those table donuts call out to me, because I can see them...they shriek out my name, begging me to come and free them from their donut box prison. They are a cruel temptation.

@#$% you, table donuts.