in the throws of a carb-craving freakout

Well, not exactly a freak-out, but I'm getting a little antsy. I started a ketogenic diet today (20 grams of carbs a day or less) and am currently suffering from a slight headache. Albeit, it is only slight, but this is coming from the girl who suffers from headaches only after having consumed copious amounts of alcohol. Yah know what's ironic about this whole predicament? My main plan of attack for the current headache that I'm suffering from: vodka.

For the last two hours I've been frantically trying to keep my mind occupied so as not to think about cake and cookies and all the delicious bread-like substances that are not allowed on a low-carb diet - and then it dawned on me, what do I love just as much as cake but just happens to be carb free? Yeah, vodka.

The boyfriend would roll his eyes if I told him my plan, but I'm fairly certain this puppy of mine would love a walk and whats the harm in combining a dog walk with a walk to the liquor store, right?

Also, you (ha, thats funny imagining that someone else is actually reading this besides me) will probably hear me talk more about this diet I'm on, especially as I go through the initial sugar-detox, during which time I'm sure to be pouty and generally whiny regarding, well, everything. But if all goes as planned, this bottle of vodka will help to get me through the tragic first couple of days.

Maybe I should post pictures of how I make my vodka drink to make this more interactive for you? Meh, that sounds silly . . . we'll just see how drunk I get.

nobody starts a blog at 25 . . .

I'm pretty sure, by twenty-five you're suppose to be over your far-fetched fantasies that anyone really has any interest in reading about your daily, mostly mundane, thoughts. I mean, I no longer consider what my life soundtrack would be, or who they would cast to play me in my life movie. But, to be fair, I'm not exactly twenty-five just yet, I still have three weeks and two days - 552 hours before I must officially give up on all my childish notions.

However, I'm still pretty childish, even at 24.94 years old - well, childish in the same way that an eight-year-old kid who drinks too much coffee, smokes too many cigarettes and always manages to have one too many glasses of wine is childish because she still thinks fart jokes are funny, always manages to make contact between her shin and the coffee table and can never keep a blouse clean for more than a few hours at most. In those ways, yes, I suppose I'm still a bit childish. 

In other ways though, I'm very much an adult. I fold my laundry right after it comes out of the dryer, I cook for myself, I bathe myself, I have an incredibly adult-like boyfriend with whom I enjoy various adult like relations and, so far, I have managed to keep 1 dog, 2 cats and 2 plants from completely withering away while under my charge - oh, and sometimes sometimes I pay my bills. Not too shabby, eh?

But really, the point of this blog isn't so much for me to justify or vindicate the person that I am, but to grow into the person I would like to become (I know, terribly cheesy). Currently unemployed, barely squeezing into size eight jeans and certifiably broke is not the way I'd like to remain for the rest of my existence. So, lets pretend I'm a butterfly, er, caterpillar, squeezing into a cocoon (which ideally would fit less snuggly than these jeans) and hoping to emerge as a beautiful butterfly! 

(Maybe the use of corny analogies will disappear during this transformation as well).