Dear diary, blog, friends and strangers on the internet. A few days ago, I let myself down. I know that I’m being way overdramatic, but to me, that’s one of the worst things I can do. I’m not talking about being weak and eating chocolate or buying soda when I shouldn’t have – did that to, couldn’t care less, I’ll sweat it out later. (Writing is good exercise anyway, right?) – I’m talking about betraying what I thought made me, me. Does that make sense to any of you? I suppose I learned something valuable at the same time: that the only, and I mean only, person who can hurt my feelings and let me down is myself. And you know what? I’m pretty sure that goes for most of you. Even when other people are at the heart of the problem, it’s me I’ve gotta live with afterwards. I’ll get right to it, and stop beating around the bush here: