Stealers Cove: Day One Hundred Forty-One

899900_89265830I am right in the midst of disbelieving that I have to go to work tomorrow.   After a rather lackadaisical week where the boss not being there and telling me she didn’t care when I came or went so long as things got done (well, she put it much more nicely than that) and where I came closer than possibly ever to the idea that I want to quit (it being a given that I want to quit from, but the much more important part, really is where I would go to and that’s not even begun to be processed) my job – now I have to  bottle all the loose anguish and get my shit together.   Sorry for the crazy sentence construction there.

I have…been angelic in some areas (food, exercise, keeping up for one week this idea of eating properly) and I have been pretty terrible in others(spending half the day accidentally playing Civ V.)   If I wonder, and sometimes, I must admit I do, where the time goes and why I’m not able to corral myself and behalf with intensity in the direction of my dreams.   Why I’m always short on time when it comes to the big ideas.  Well, it’s because five hours in a row slipped away while Montezuma crushed his enemies and eventually went into space.  That and I’m petrified to force myself to be exposed to anything that might make me stronger.   In part, I’m sure, because in order to get over that mental bridge you have to settle yourself down, strap yourself in and say, I am not the sort of person who can give more than an hour a day of her very precious time over to the video games.

That said, I have Bioshock: Infinite on as I type this.  I took a break because it is only a little bit petrifying.  I’m one of the few, I’m sure who ended up playing the base game without playing the original two, so now that we’re in the setting of the first two (is that a spoiler?, apologies if it is, but surely if you know enough about this to care one way or the other, you’ve already played it), I’m properly unnerved.  So this is a break from that as the room gets extra dark and I have to contemplate what else to have to eat because I know my calories are under.

I should mention that today was our belated mother’s day celebration, which was extra nice because of the little scare my mother had yesterday.   We got lost for 30 seconds until she remembered the right name and location of the restaurant she wanted us to go to – but we did get there.  And I did eat something that was not a pancake or a waffle or anything syrupy.  If I’m dead honest, it was a bit bland, but I’m so glad she had a good time with all of us there and we could be grateful.  You know, as you do.

Weird post, sorry! 



Everybody Wants to Rule the World: Day Thirty-Nine

Sunday is burning its last few inches of wick.

I am happy.

I have used pockets of time well today.

I’ve set some clothing out for tomorrow.  I’m going to plan my food for tomorrow.  I’ve set my alarm.  I’ve drunk some water.  I’ve worn my pedometer. I’ve spent 10 minutes on the bike.  I’ve cleaned up in the bathroom.   I’ve finished the last run on Bioshock Infinite and am working on the DLC.  The roads can do as they like because it’s been warm enough that some snow tonight won’t make them impassable.  Not for me and Suzy Suzuki, the pearly mountain goat I drive around in.  I was not sick on shakes or anything else.

Instead of dreading, I’m organizing.

At least for today.

Tonight – shower, have something else to eat that is small, perhaps some more popcorn – which I will come to in a second here, blow out the candles

Tomorrow morning – 10 minutes on the bike
Drink my shake before I go
Finish my makeup before I go instead of trying to tell myself I’ll have time to do it at work.
Bring a bag of trash down to the dumpster before I go to work
Leave at 7:45 rather than 8:00a.m. so as to have two moments to think.
Go to the grocery store and buy food for dinner that is healthy and that I’m willing to make after a long day.  (Not pizza.)
Stand up and walk around while thinking.  Try and get 5000 steps in.
Sign up for a massage on Sunday.
Remember dodgeball because God knows I’d like to forget about it.


Tomorrow night I’m going to start on my vacation budget.  I have some money set aside since my friend and I have started talking about this, but I have got to start doing a lot more research since even though I get to stay somewhere for free, I both don’t want to be a burden and take advantage of the fact that I’m going to Italy.   My thought is to stay overnight in Florence.   At any rate, there’s just a lot more thinking to do on how to make all of this happen.  Though a key part of being excited about it is feeling comfortable in self so…I’m working on that, foodwise, exercise, lifestyle change-wise.  Whatever the road is, the destination is the feeling.  The destination is the pride I’d like to have and currently don’t.  So I’m doing more low-carb, but an imperfect version, for a few days, anyway.  Fuck, I really don’t even want to talk about it, because I feel guilty and then I feel annoyed and then I feel self-righteous and then I feel like the only way anything happens is from ground zero, day one and I destroy everything I’ve got to get back there.  That’s the cycle I need most to break.  So imperfection is accepted and assumed.   Still doesn’t mean I can’t exercise and try and build in some better habits and seduce the positive rather than eschew the negative.   And yes, you can embroider that on a throw pillow for me, please.


Brosser Les Dents: Day Thirty-Nine

I found the image first, so I am afraid that I am going to attempt to match its tone (not that I have ever hoped or required that of the myself and the header image) but today has been so less than bubbly rainbows, that I don’t want to lose the verisimilitude.

But you might wish I’d lose it.

Last night is where the story of today’s sourness actually began when I tried to go to bed around 1:00a.m.-ish.  This is not atypical on a Friday night.  However, as I tried to relax and breathe and do whatever dope-on-a-rope trick I have to finagle to get my overactive mind to go into hibernation mode, I realized I felt a bit off.  I ignored it, as you do, because it’s late and the offness wasn’t centered anywhere or to do with anything.  Again, not so very atypical.  I feel I’m already adding too much tension to what is only a scatologically-focused bit of puff.  I woke up with a start and felt it must be morning with the quite classic, but very atypical for me, worrying feeling in my colon.  Quite worrying.  So off I went to deal with the…ahem…matter and put myself back in bed as a good girl should.  I woke up again.  It was only 2:30a.m., but equally indisposed.  And again at 4:00a.m.   I popped an antacid in sheer desperation.  And then 8:30a.m. when I finally said I’d rather not play the old game again and made myself get up for the day.  Now, I’m not sure if it’s my beloved shakes, or what, because I had one for breakfast and felt not great so I decided to just not eat ever again.  And in the interim thought about cleaning or moving about, though didn’t, really.  Mostly just played more Bioshock Infinite, thinking I could follow the walkthrough and breeze through it, but it’s certainly taken it’s fair share of time today.  And somewhere in the midst of all that, I got some appetite back and thought I’d do a proper low-carb frittata and bake it in the oven with sausage and cheese, and I baked it and it was good, until around 2:00p.m. my poor little stomach started the gurgles once again and away we went.  And at 7:00p.m, and now 10:30 or so, after a strong dose of Pepto, it continues, though I suppose, I would call it abated.

Insofar as I call preponderance of shit anything at all.

So I hope to feel better tomorrow, to be more active and organized and answer the schlub who deigned to message me on OKC with nothing really to recommend himself (I’m equally mediocre and disinterested, so this should be smashing.) as well as the girl who wants to order me about with the writing group.

I really want to not be laid up again and waste another beautiful day waiting for something to get better.

I suppose I should apologize for this post, but there will be another one tomorrow, like it or no.

Be Here Now: Day Thirty-Three

Well, the thing that must not be named – the sporting event that shall henceforth no longer be named – came and went.  And you and I must carry on regardless of the outcome.  Feeling very Bioshockian in my philosophy tonight.  We must do because we did do and have done and will do.  This is the way it went and this is the way it goes.

So I completed the game, with bloodshot eyes and hitched up shoulders, and was relieved – I suppose I should note that these might be considered spoilers if you’ve yet to play Bioshock Infinite and I don’t know that I can write about it in such away that both avoids spoilers and might entice you to play on the merits of the action rather than the beautiful artwork that you might have seen promoting it.   Wait, wait, I was relieved that the ending, as I’ve been seriously burned lately with video game endings, was great.  Great in that it had a strong bzuh factor, the mind-fuck factor was high, but yet the threads did come together in a way that left you with genuine satisfaction.  Also, it was not necessarily happy – what had to happen to circumvent this vast amount of evil and sorrow and cruelty, but it left open, in my mind, the possibility of a new growth, in a new direction that would take the characters towards something that perhaps, if they knew better, and perhaps something will remain to give Booker that tiny gift, they would find healing.

Even if Mr. Dewitt wanted for so long to defend his refusal to heal as a sign of how deeply held was the grief and shame, how unmovable the mountain of wrongness he’d created.  I’d like to think of him, not necessarily as happy, or at peace, but moving.  Alive.  Dealing.  And I think the ending provides that.

I liked Elizabeth and Booker very much.  Like let’s replay the game and download the DLC and read fanfic and maybe write fanfic and think about redecorating and holy shit…I have work in the morning.    There has to be a bit of a dividing line between this weekend and tomorrow.

Boy, it’s cold in here.  I look out the window and it’s giving me shivers.  Something about this upcoming week is exhausting me and it hasn’t even begun.   I have to remember to bring the box full of “organized” work back so I know where to begin – sort of.  We’ve got meetings set and need more money and la-dee-dah, life goes on.   The roads melted well enough, they’re dry on the main ones, and I plan to give myself plenty of time to maneuver them tomorrow, so there should be no reason to fixate.  I was freaking out because I wasn’t sure if I could even get to the psychic reading on Tuesday, but I’ve got my route so life, y’know, finds a way.  And in some universe, I’ve already gone and I’ve already hopefully, been irrevocably changed by the experience.

I just have to be there, now.


Vox Populi: Day Thirty-One

I am somewhat sure that in the archives is a post called Vox Populi.  I checked and…apparently not.  Perhaps another blog, another time.  Which fits, I think with the game from which I’ve filched the title, my dear new (only to me) Bioshock Infinite.  I’ve done my best to take breaks today and clean counters and re-apply blankets to couches and empty the dishwasher, etc.  Also, I’ve been distracted by the snowtide which has seemed to come in and out on our shores and what had melted off and left black asphalt has now returned and coated nearly everything in white again. However, now I’ve been pulled pretty deeply into the magic of the game world so I have to be mindful of the time and my hunger and caring for myself.

I told myself, self, I said, dear self, if you’re going to pause the game, then you’d ought to take a moment and write a hundred words or so and then go back to playing so that the job will be done sooner rather than later and you’ll be back to devoting your full attention to this compelling universe.  Better that than raging at yourself for not being able to make a storm pattern move out of the sky.

I suppose of note is I think today is the 1500th post on this blog.  I have been blogging daily essentially since January 1, 2010, though there were thirteen or so posts that were written in 2008 and 2009 before I had the epiphany that demanded this task of me.  It has helped, or at least it has never hurt, though some nights I’ve been sick and some nights I’ve been miserable with pains not of the flesh.  It has been a constant and it’s important, in my estimation, to now and again put down in words the value of being somewhere, on paper, every day.  That I’m doing something – something that feels right to me even if it isn’t curing cancer or fighting terrorists or travelling to the moon.

My confidence is the thing it gives me.  

And so with confidence, I can report that this diet thing is happening at the moment.  I cannot speak to forevers, forevers are a mighty long time away from now, and I can say that I have done it imperfectly, with diet aids and salted meats, but I feel better.  In most ways.  When you sit in one spot stewing in your own anxieties, the spoilage is fairly unavoidable, but I’m more than ready to cut out the oxidized bits and continue tomorrow with these good thoughts in mind.  Got another whole day of weekend, got a Super Bowl party, got more to do and play and be and feel.  So yeah, it isn’t as sour as it felt an hour ago as I was sitting in the dark, gaming away.

Since I’m going to Italy and there may be the tiniest chance that I’ll have an excuse to tack on going to England for that trip, any and all of this is going to pay off.  It’s not just for some boy or for some future I keep shunning, it’s for a real situation where everything will be benefited by a strong body, an open heart, and lots of this confidence coming from all sides.

Boo meet yah?

Okay, that’s the worst.  I’m going now.  For REAL.