Goodbye, 2010. You were a sucky year and you made me fat so good riddance to you.

I'm essentially spending New Years Eve EXACTLY the same way I did last year- hotel in New Hampshire with the gang, dinner at Fudruckers, contra dancing at the local barn (yeah, you heard me, I contra dance with my family), and then falling asleep in front of the t.v. at around 11:55. No parties, no drinking, not a ton of hoopla. I think in my entire life I've only had one real, "traditional" New Year's Eve experiance. It was in High School. I went to a party at my friend Laura's house, drank about 24 ounces of vodka from a large tupperware container, and then promptly passed out in her basement, in a dog kennel. Good times.

Today was fun. We drove over to Mt. Cranmore for some skiing but I was really only up for one run down a green circle and then I took a nap in the car. I HATE SKIING. The thing is, I always convince myself that this year it'll be different. I think to myself, "I've grown, I've matured, I've developed quite a tremendous amount of insight into myself so I've probably also become the type of person who likes to ski." What the fuck? Skiing is horrible no matter how much knowledge or wisdom I think I've obtained. First of all, you spend about half an hour getting all your shit together and putting on the thermal underwear and the snowpants and the coat and the gloves, hat, scarf, and helmet and goggles and those god-awful ski boots that you've gotta click click click with all the straps and buckles. You feel like you're getting dressed to go the moon! Then the skiing itself is even worse. Everything hurts and I always get my skiis crossed and have to stop and adjust. THEN, when I finally do get a nice rythmic stride going I always start going faster than I want and it feels scary and sickening. My whole life flashes before my eyes.

So after we got back from the mountain I felt really depressed and unfulfilled so I grabbed my figure skates and fooled around on the hotel's ice rink for about an hour or so. When I came back to the room my mom said, "You looked like you were having so much fun out there! You should take lessons again this winter. I forgot how much you love to skate!" I think "love" is a tad much... but I greatly prefer skating to skiing that's for sure.

I ate a lot at dinner tonight. Like A LOT. I can't say it was a binge though because I didn't eat any more than anyone else did. I'm doing an experiment. I'm going to see what happens if I stop trying to moniter my food intake with a meal plan. Instead, I'll just eat whatever I want when I want but not engage in behaviors. Does that make sense? Or does it sound kind of like I've stopped trying...