And I am running a panel and everything! (And no, despite the title, I do not actually believe I have the most popular journal in the history of the universe. I have just the right amount of medium-sized popularity. If I wanted the most popular journal ever, I'd launch a free naked sexcam featuring someone much, much hotter than me. It'll be a fun panel, though.)

I know it's going to be an excellent shindig, I know San Francisco is a spectacularly cool city, and there are many of you who I can't wait to meet. So that settles it: you're coming! Fabulous.

I know I listed all these things that I want to buy, but the thing I've decided to buy is more important than all of that stuff, despite the fact that it didn't make the list. It's a bed. My god, a bed.

I have been sleeping on the most ghetto of beds for the past however long. Since I moved here, away from my ex-boyfriend's amazingly comfortable thousand-dollar sex bed, I've been sleeping on a futon. A sad, sad futon. Ask Tim, or Bruce, or Jen, or anyone else who has loved me enough to sleep on the thing. It's a sad state of affairs.

All the fluffy stuff I own is piled on this bed in a desperate attempt to make it at least marginally comfortable. But no matter how many blankets and featherbeds and egg crates I pile on the damn thing, it basically feels like sleeping on a few sticks glued together. There isn't enough fluffiness in my life to make the bed even remotely bed-like.

It's Less Than Comfy.

Which is intolerable, considering A) how much I sleep, B) how much I love to sleep; and, C) how much my back hurts anyway.

It was Jen, currently shopping for furniture herself, who advised me to bite the bullet and just buy a goddamn bed. I think she found a good deal at Sears. I don't know. How much do beds cost? I guess this one is on sale for $400 or something. That's most of my savings right there, but I really do need a bed.

It feels like a very grownup thing to buy though.

I've been wondering, lately, if breast reduction surgery is covered by my new medical insurance.

I am terrified of surgery, don't get me wrong. I mean, surgery involves needles (which make me phobic) and anaesthetic (which also seriously squicks me out) and shiny knives, and stitches and swelling and hospitals and... well, it's surgery. I am scared to death of it.

But-- and I know I've been saying this over and over again-- my tits are just not getting any smaller. They barely fit into DDD bras. That's how big they are. And I've lost weight in every other part of my body, noticeably, and it's just exacerbating the problem. I am still a large-sized person, but my boobies are extra-large. My frame is getting smaller, and my boobs are happily remaining gigantic and sorry, boys, it is not all that pleasant for me.

Right now, this is just a fantasy. This is me walking past windows, wondering what I would look like and feel like without these giant things weighing me down. Checking into coverage issues, just in case

My first plan of attack is to try and lose a little more weight (I should probably start counting calories again) and maybe find some more upper-body exercises to do. (I'm trying to get diligent about lifting weights, but it only seems to affect my arms-- are there any boob-shrinking exercises?) I will definitely give it some time before I do anything drastic.

Maybe buying a non-ghetto bed will help. Maybe buying a new uber-bra will help. And hopefully if I crack down and lose some more weight, it will help. But in the meantime, it's not that comfortable to be me.

While I'm sort of on the subject, I am still doing the sugar free thing. (Although I am told that honey has the same molecular structure as sugar and ingesting it is therefore cheating.)

It's been eighteen days (I just counted) and I haven't had any of the yumminesses. No Coke, no cookies, no candy, no pastries, and no-- almost impossible to fathom-- chocolate. I don't understand how a person with no willpower at all is managing to do this. I guess I am stubborn or something.

There's no way I could do this if it didn't exclude fruit, which I love and have been eating frequently. (I was going to add alcohol to that, but I could probably give up alcohol for a month.) I couldn't live off salad and peanut butter for a month.

I don't weigh myself, so I have no idea if this plan is resulting in loss of weight. It might sound odd, since I said above that I am trying to lose boob weight, but that's not what this has been about. I really was just feeling like I was eating too much sugar, and I needed to put a stop to it. Cold turkey is the only way I can effectively change my diet, it seems.

I am not sure what to do once the month is up. I'm tempted to just splurge for one day, but I am afraid my body will go into some sort of sugar shock. I think my original plan of gradual reintroduction is better.

I'm going to set a limit of one sugary item per day. Which may sound like a lot, but it really isn't. One zucchini bread, or soda, or soy mocha, or chocolate thing per day isn't exactly a plethora. And if I'm watching my diet in general, watching my calorie intake, and skip sugar altogether once in a while, I think that will be fine.

I can't imagine that this reformulation of my diet is interesting to anybody but me, so maybe I'll change the subject. Um... back to boobies! Always a crowd pleaser. Hmm. Oh, I remember the other thing I am afraid of, although this may be kind of an overshare. I am worried about losing sensitivity in the, um, nipular area. They've always been very sensitive, which can be kind of... nice... sometimes. If you know what I mean.

(And I know you do, boys. I know you do. )

"I started with the birds. (No, I didn't actually clean the birds. Although I'm suddenly picturing myself catching the birds and cleaning their feathers with a tiny squeegee, which makes me laugh.)"