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Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Getting Over It

Well, I'm finally home from my weekend of ruin.  Vegas, the city of sin, plunged me deep into the pit of one of the most vile "7 deadlies" of them all - Gluttony.

I wish I could tell you that I bounced out of bed and raced to the gym each morning while away.  I wish I could tell you that I bravely met each meal with self control made of steel, impenetrable by olive oil, truffle, fresh pasta, sticky bun, pretzel, champagne induced forces.  I wish I could say a lot of things, but I can't.

After arriving home yesterday carrying luggage filled with loathing, self-pity (oh and a new pair of shoes and a sparkly, cute Nanette Lepore dress), I set out to come to grips with my weekend of excess, move beyond beating myself up, and get back on track.

But before I share how I plan to get refocused (more on that tomorrow), I figure it is better to come clean with you on what has led to my skinny jeans retiring temporarily to the back of my closet.

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