“You tell a girl enough times that she’s fat, and that fat is repulsive,” I told Kristin, “and she will eventually believe you.”

“Actually you only have to tell her once or twice,” Kristin helpfully pointed out. “And after that, you can tell her she’s gorgeous a million times and she’ll never buy it.”

So I have basically spent 24 hours feeling really, really crappy about myself. And all because of one stupid photo, in which you can’t even really see me because I’m behind a table centerpiece. And (I am told) the photo isn’t even that bad, and maybe I can even be coerced into posting it here for you, I haven’t decided yet.

But it’s like, I saw the photo, and my brain seized on an idea, and dug in tight, like a tick. Even in the throes of it, on some level I knew I was being stupid, I knew it was a lie, but I couldn’t quite make myself believe it. It’s almost gone now, as I’m writing this, the fog is sort of clearing. I’m feeling a little better.

Also I really have a pretty magnificent boyfriend. That’s definitely a big help. :)