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October 18th, 2014

Body of Christ

I was discussing the Halloween party my friend Sarah and I are throwing with my therapist, and she's pretty adament about me dressing up as Amy Winehouse. It must be my eyeliner that's encouraging this sort of talk, because Amy Winehouse died of starvation and alcohol abuse, two things I aint fittin to go toward the light for.

Speaking of not dying of starvation, I took a premeditated nap through what was supposed to be my first Weight Watchers meeting and later went to Spaghetti Factory with my sister and ordered everything on the menu covered in alfredo sauce. It's difficult to do that though given that my voice is on some frequency only dogs and Type O Negative fans can decipher. I told dude I'd have cheese ravioli smothered in alfredo sauce.

"What?" he said.

I repeated myself.

"What?" he leaned so close to me we were practically making out.

"CHEESE RAVIOLI WITH ALFREDO" I screamed. He made note of it on his little pad and later brought back something else entirely with, ugh, marinara sauce.

I went home and looked in the mirror. "Alfredo," I said like Buddy saying Francisco in Elf. "Alfreeedooo."

The Guy with the Girl's Name randomly wrote me to ask how my week was going. I gasped and clasped my hands together causing Jesus Guy to wheel around and stare at me before turning back to IknowWhereImGoing.com or something. I quickly wrote Shannon back telling him my week was mostly a success because I wasn't yet curled up in the fetal position under my desk and asked him how he was doing.

He then wrote me back to say he too was okay, and that while he had fetal position days as well, he appreciated his job as it afforded him the opportunity to go camping and fishing on the weekends. He finished it with "fuck off have a nice weekend."

I decided not to write him back and ask him to my Halloween party for two reasons: 1. he might tell me to fuck off have a nice weekend again, or 2. he'd invite me to go camping or fishing with him, both activities of which have caused me to vom in the past.

So I'll be a stag Amy Winehouse it seems.