I’m gonna eat like it’s 1999. Ok, I’m done with the parodies. Today is my pre-surgical celebration and to say I am looking forward to it would be like saying the Pope likes to pray. This isn’t just your run of the mill house party, damn it. This party is for ME! This party is to celebrate all the things I used to be and all the amazing things I am about to become. I’m gonna slap on some Spanx and comfy pants and sit in the middle of the dessert table and have a food orgy accompanied by an alcohol orgasm. Count on it. It isn’t gonna be pretty, and there will nothing ladylike about it, but I am gonna say goodbye to food with a bang. With every delicious cream puff, every tiny sausage wrapped in dough, every chocolate covered cherry, I will be freeing myself of the chains that food has had over me for far too long. And if I happen to get drunk off of the sugar overload and wake up naked next to a pink frosted cupcake, in a junk food induced Coyote Ugly moment, I will gladly do the walk of shame while wiping chicken wing dip off of my face. Deal with it.
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