Ok. So my dad gave me $500 for Christmas. This might seem like a lot, but then I realized that I have to buy textbooks. So I'm gonna be going back to school with a measly hundred, if it even lasts that long, after gas money. So, that means no new clothes, even though all my jeans don't fit and most of my clothes I bought secondhand anyway, wearing less makeup to make it last longer, and no new flat iron, even though I want one.

I got an iTouch for Christmas, which I didn't really want in the first place. I'd rather just have the money. I should have left it in the packaging and hawked it. I also got another bottle of the same perfume I got last year, which I don't even particularly like; I got reusable shopping bags and aluminum water bottles, both of which I already had, magnets I'll never use because my fridge is under my bed, a book I'll most likely never read, an A/V cable, which A) I already have and B) I don't need because I don't have a TV, and candy I'm just going to throw away.

On the flip side, I got some nice Zum Bar products and a pair of faux-leather boots that match my faux-leather bomber jacket, and some tea.

All I really wanted was a flat iron and a Snuggie.

And I can't find my mPower card.

I really need money, and I know I need to get a job back at Auburn. I already have one lined up for the summer.
But still. I don't want to spend my Christmas money on textbooks. My parents aren't paying anything for my education. Not a cent. That whole college fund my mom had set up is going to go to my siblings, who don't work as hard as I do. I don't get any of it. Not even to buy my freaking textbooks. Or FOOD, for that matter. I refuse to eat cheap shit. If I can't eat well, I won't eat at all.

Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah
Roma-roma-ma-ma
Gaga oh la la
Want your bad romance

I don't wanna be friends.
Caught in a bad romance.

You and me could write a bad romance.

Dear Mr. Omega,
I always knew I meant nothing to you, and that I was simply a distraction or a needed touch or a fuck (well, not really) and yes, I did love you once. It hurt to be around you because you would never look at me or if you did you would insult me but occasionally you would be tender. I think that was probably the cruellest of all, was your tenderness. And then you would hold me and touch me and kiss me and for a moment I would be happy, but the minute I left your arms I would wonder why and did you regret it and what did it mean if anything and I would come to realize that you were "just not that into me" which I could understand. I'm not that pretty. I'm kind of chunky. I had bad skin. I didn't like your music and I thought I was so much smarter than you. But I loved you, and everyone knew, and talked about it when other gossip was scarce.

Then we came to college and I never saw you except that one time in August and occasionally on Mondays and Wednesdays in Lowder for two or three minutes between classes. And then again before Thanksgiving. And then you started texting me and I brought you cheesecake and you dug up my old feelings I tried so hard to quash. And then you couldn't move in me and I left, humiliated. I lied. I am a virgin. But I wanted you to have it, but couldn't give it to you because it hurt too much. Not just physically. I'd hurt the second I left.

So enjoy the cheesecake, please don't text me, find some other girl to screw, and I'll take your picture off my wall and try as hard as I can to pretend I never loved you.

All my love, or what's left,
C.

Dear Mr. Lamb,
You don't want me, I'll crush you and hurt you and tear you apart. Find another girl, a more innocent girl who can return you sweetness like I never could.
Luck,
C.

Dear Mr. Nola,
You had a certain charm and soft hands and a soft body, but you're too wrapped up in yourself right now. You made me feel beautiful, but only because I was comparing myself to you, which is not a good thing. So please, figure your life out and then find a girl who will love you.
Luck,
C.

Dear Mr. Hirsch,
You surprised me. You're unfailingly loyal, and that scares me. Please forget about me, it's a game you'll never win.
Love,
C.

Dear Mr. Petrie,
I have nothing else to say to you. You were a growing experience, and by that I mean mistake. You're right. I am glad you're gone from my life. Don't come back.
Best,
C.

-eat fruit for breakfast every day
-eat at least one salad a day
-go to pilates on thursday
-have at least 3 workouts, complete with cardio and weights
-walk at least 10,000 steps every day