There’s Nothing About Us That Wouldn’t Be Better in Moonlight

I am overjoyed, boundlessly overjoyed (which implies a hypothetical boundary of joy, but I assure you, we’ve long since bypassed any such boundaries if they were to exist).  Why, may you ask?  Because there is one more day off.  One more restful, stupid, getting the chance to flail and be stupid about the diet, getting the chance to be just a completely unconcerned idiot kind of day.

I’m showing up here, though, because I’ve invented this habit and I don’t want to be the one who says that it’s too difficult to both sit on the couch and blog.  Not when Misha Collins ran nearly 83 kms today for charity just because he said he was going to run and see how far he could go.   Seriously.  No joke.   That man is inspiration in a can.   Between he and Cmdr. Shepard, I’ve got some badass good spirits to follow after on Labor Day.

Hmm.  So today was Sunday, which feels very fuzzy and disorienting to pin down.  Sunday.  Food wise, diet wise – definitely a day of pluses and minuses.  Ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and grapes and some french fries and some of a Denny’s sandwich which, to no one’s great surprise, wasn’t terribly fantastic (not bad, though, and I kind of dug how this diner was actually decorated like a diner.  An art deco, groovy diner.  Doesn’t change the fact that it was still a Denny’s and Denny’s are meant for after midnight when you don’t care what you’re eating, you just want to be with your friends and have chili cheese fries and laugh at the fact you’re eating in a Denny’s).  Um, sorry for the long aside there, I also ate ramen and chocolate ice cream.  But!  That really does not take into account all the small portions, the things I said no to, or the fact that I didn’t murder someone when we didn’t have dessert.  Or the fact that I’m continuing to drink water every day – a very positive human thing to do.

Also, we kept another of our small lexicon of words today, and went for a walk.  Broke through that ridiculous but insistent resistance that doesn’t want to walk or really do anything but slowly degrade into a thick, pink goo right here on the loveseat.   There was a bit of an internal war which the good side won.  A bit of a start there, though.  Also, bought some shakes and cheese sticks because I trust them and me with them.

I was thinking that I love the weekends, obviously, since they’re my last real, untethered sense of freedom until next Friday at 5:00pm, but I really am so wildly wide open with my time that everything seems urgent and important to tackle and I completely paralyze myself.  Small steps, taking it bird by bird and we can find a way through the head games. This is the year of coulds and shoulds being converted into things that are tangible – that “are.”  This is the year of change.

Skin of Her Teeth

Well, I did my best on this very strange day and the day looked back at me and shrugged its shoulders before skipping its loo off into the horizon.

I tried to apologize to my mother about the whole not speaking to her thing without feeling like I was kicking myself in the teeth and it sort of worked.  Mostly didn’t.  I apologized for hurting her feelings and made the mistake of saying that mine were hurt, too.   Apparently, my feelings weren’t hurt and if they happened to be hurt (which they weren’t, since I’m a wicked and malicious child who has the propensity to cry a lot, but that’s only because she’s weak), then it certainly wasn’t her who hurt them.

But I can go ahead and eat the leftover spaghetti.

Which is a step.  I guess.

Okay.  I’ve had a minute to think about this (this and the rest of this strange day) and it’s me.  I’m putting this weird vibe into the universe, this aloof, shifty, angry and entitled vibe out there and imagine that, I’m seeing the same thing everywhere around me.  I don’t want to be mad at my mother, so smashing the bellows of snarky rhetoric so that I can keep up the air of self-righteousness is a really annoying way of saying that I’m the one keeping the fight going.   I’m doing it because I’m upset my friend is really actually dating someone who is, you know, his age and like…an adult and I’m going through another summer of events alone and work situations are being work situations and there’s money crunching and I feel puffkin-y and I am yearning in a big, poetic way and I want a whole rainbow of attention from a pat on the head to the dark and mysterious stranger/soulmate emerging from the shadows and this is just one stupid thing I can stamp my foot about.  Even if I know it’s really ridiculous and baseless, it’s just a way to vent and feel like I’m something.  A doorstop is a thing.

But the universe is not wholly a vacuum.  I ate pie and spaghetti and pomegranate lemonade and fudge from Lopez Island, WA and a big Italian sandwich and had diet soda and watched True Blood with my friends (Holy Jesus in more ways than one), and then Antiques Roadshow, and I’m not going to walk with Leslie, but I will take a bath and enjoy the cool weather and finish this post.

I am lucky that I have the luxury of being here.  That I can hold up my five hundred words as a contract with myself and that I can feel proud and good that I’m keeping this contract above and beyond the getting healthy side of it.  This is helping me be less fearful.  It’s helping me see the ebbing and flowing of my life as part of it.  I go back and see that there is pattern.  That I’m not facing a new opponent every time I get nervous or overwhelmed.  I’m a girl and I goof up and I justify things and it’s…okay.

There has to be forgiveness. We have to be kind to one another or we get the alternative.  And I had a brief glimpse of the alternative.  It’s snark, it’s circular, self-affirming thought processes that bind us to cinder blocks, it’s being alone.

I am in earnest.

I am hopeful and I know myself for what I am: good-natured.   For continuing this emotional rift, I am very sorry.  I know there are struggles ahead, bigger and smaller and probably far stupider.  I know I am aching for someone to force me back to trying to lose weight.  I know that it has to come from me.  It has to come from willpower and it takes time to coalesce the energy, the belief, the desire, and the plan into one being and one tipping point.  I’m looking for my tipping point again, but I don’t want to go through what it takes to find one.

I’m trying to circumvent the process.  But being here, right here, with what I am and what I have is not so bad.  There’s today and tomorrow and the five hundred words.

Let’s Not Kid Ourselves

The ticket is to just be positive, anyway.  You can fake your way into anything if you just don’t let yourself disbelieve it.

I had an okay day once I finally was done with it and home.   Worked me arse off and stayed an hour later to send emails and proofread an insert. It made me run like the dickens once I got off work and after that all hell broke loose, foodwise.  Goddamnit, anyway.   Currently, though, I am daydreaming about how well I can do tomorrow.  I’m planning to take a half an hour or hour off so that there’s no time crunch.

The head is where it needs to be.  The scale is continually buggered and read 150.5 again this morning.

My mother’s birthday was today and apparently, she was still upset about my silent treatment yesterday.  Sigh.  Like I was mentioning to a friend on facebook who was astonished that I was ever anything but peaches and cream, I can be snotty and snippy and as much of a smartass as anyone, but it bothers me more than it does whomever might be considered the target of my rudeness.   So I got to feel pretty shitty that I couldn’t wish her a happy birthday because she basically blew me off and went upstairs.  And add that to the fact that the internet wasn’t working so I could connect with my friends and watch Ye Truly True Blood and I decided to leave my card and present for her and go home.  I hate it when we have friction.  It’s rare.   So rare.  She’s one of my best friends in the world and I love her at this sort of unfathomable level and yet sometimes we just cannot communicate at all and like some children, I figure it’s easiest to just apologize.  In this case, I don’t even have a strong sense of why I was so irritated yesterday (except of course, that it’s clear to me that I know exactly what bothered me but also that I’ll never be able to satisfactorily explain it to her).

It’s no skin off my nose, and her having to spend her birthday with all of us kids dispersed and self-involved and not really getting to celebrate anything, makes me want to apologize all the more.  But, I didn’t tonight.  So, all I have is a plan to tell her so tomorrow.

As far as me, myself and I, I have still a huge amount of excitement and not a lot of good behavior to report.  I’m excited to clean house and exercise and eat bacon and all these amazing and wonderful things that I need to do, but haven’t happened yet.  Action versus words.

No one’s going to be that impressed with me for writing the same thing over and over again.  So, good ideas, nice as they are, have to be planned for so that action can follow them.  Not just hope and disappointment.

So: tomorrow:
Shake for breakfast (shake it, yeah, yeah, shake it)
Lunch: Turkey, red pepper, cheese, water
Dinner: taco salad

OMS AND NOMS, mes petites.

Things that were good today:

Finishing A Clash of Kings
Watching True Blood with my excellent, excellent, marvelous friends
The driving on one’s own a bit further than usual IN THE RAIN
Not dying more than was necessary for a Monday
Kept my chin up.

Valkyrie Hair

Today was sort of a write-off.  Is every day that way? I don’t know.

The kitchen is beginning its remodel that my little sister is insistent upon.  There’s gray going to cover beiges and pinks and browns and ambers covering what used to be a nice bright apple green but now seems to all our eyes a little bit like some sort of mint green toothpaste.  There’s a backsplash going in.  She seems to think she can do all of this with a hundred dollars.  And bring about world peace, too, no doubt.  At least it’s something different, a new atmosphere in here might make some difference.

149 today.  Can feel the weight tide turning.  Or something.  Weight tide.  Red tide.  They’re all tied together.  Hahaha!  Sorry.  That was terrible and I apologize sincerely.   I started out with a great deal of energy and good intention and by the end of the day I felt so tremendously overwhelmed and turned around and backwards and disarmed along with the fact that my hormones are doing their usual whack job of being out of whack that I kind of wanted to murder people.

You should kind of be relieved I didn’t.

August is, I think, the hardest month out of the year work wise and this year we have an added event.  So it’s three weeks in a row of event stress.    I know what the right thing to do is.  Accept that I cannot let the event alter my diet, get back on the horse, stare the thing in the eye and demand more of myself.  That’s obvious.  It stops me from wasting more time, pining and playing video games and asking a gatling gun of existential questions regarding the hows and whys and wherefores of this pathetic life that is so unsatisfactory that I am moved to do absolutely nothing about it.

But dealing with August is like trying to fellate a fire hose.  Today I felt like I was a stupid git who was fucking around and not doing things on time, and not this completely overwhelmed, hard-working, loyal company woman who, in the process of trying to shift things on her plate knocked a few things off…for a couple months in a row.

What I want to say is I’ve been able to keep these twenty pounds, give or take a pound off for a year or so now.  I’m not making headway and that is frustrating to all of us, hugely frustrating to me when I go past my reflection and see this ridiculous puffkin with valkyrie hair in victory rolls and a steampunk skirt all set ridiculously upon this ridiculous frame and I know things could be better.   But that’s not nothing.   It’s a buoy you have to start from, same as the shore, but right now it’s all I got just to hang on.

I don’t want to say wait for September….but…

Just you wait for September.

For some administrative information: there’s an about page now.  If you have general who the fuck are you and what is this mad blogging quest which you’re using as a cover for a very spotty dieting plan kind of questions, a comment there would be good.   Provided I check it if WordPress calls every thing spam.

The picture above says that it is nudibranches in the Philippines.  Do with that what you will.

Today: 149.  A small miracle.


Aaaaaaaaah.  We are back on schedule.  More or less.  If you go backwards for the past three days, you’ll find my current posts have been added back in.  Believe it or not, they were written on the days they’ve been submitted for  and I’m feeling pretty chuffed about being on track with all of this.

Whoo for another interjection, whoo, I am back in a world with internet after a long weekend at the farm.  We woke up this morning, me on the air mattress that I’ve been sleeping on in the living room, and sort of puttered around watching MSNBC and hearing all sorts of hideous tales about woodticks attacking and dumping lyme disease in unsuspecting sleepers.  Then, my grandmother, mother and aunt and I went the fifteen or so minutes to the Cornfield Cafe.  There, we got the kind of very good, very midwestern breakfast food that you could imagine would be served to you in a restaurant that shares space with a hardware store at the intersection of two highways.  This place is a long-time favorite of my grandparents and it’s only a matter of time that we end up there on any trip to Minnesota.  I had pancakes and hashbrowns.  Carbs.  Eh.  Sorry?

Then, once we went to a gift shop that all of us agreed had nice things, but nothing that any of us needed so terribly.  Then, we puttered around, admiring the string peas and the potatoes growing out in my grandfather’s garden.  Then, my aunt and I decided not to wait around another two hours for hotdish, much to my grandmother’s dismay.

I felt sort of sad and strange leaving my parents there.  Tomorrow’s the promised day of meeting relatives and hearing about all their health problems and talking about how good and well-behaved we absent children are.  I don’t envy my parents that at all.  Instead, I’m headed east to do whatever ridiculousness I plan to do without any particular reason behind it. It felt like I was going to leave them in the proverbial dust and I find that sad and strange and awkward, turning around to see them standing there on the porch completely unsure of me and my friends whom they’ve never met and my world of which they have no part.

Sigh.  But, you know, long car rides and a little candy have a tendency to get you over things like making sure you’re always cosseting your parents.  We went to another graveyard and saw a great-great-too far great to know how great grandmother’s gravestone that my aunt actually had repaired.  I don’t feel frightened or weird or too overwhelmed by the energy.  I just know they don’t want to screw with me and I don’t have any malicious intent and it is what it is.  Then we got lost, and then pizza and a margarita which was dang strong, and then bees my uncle keeps and a little cross-eyed kitten named Lorenzo.

I’m here, typing to you, on-time and online and blissfully (for the short time being) unaware of my weight.


My stomach is roiling.  That word feels like it’s antiquated, or perhaps that I possibly made it up.  I don’t know what this is,guys, but it SUCKS.  The lethargy, exhaustedness is not going away and my neck still hurts like a mother.

I think the truth is that I’m sick.  My mother says there are such things as summer viruses that come upon people and take them down with nary a sneeze to herald their arrival.  I think that I have a runny nose from time to time and a pissed-off stomach and a wrenched out neck and this summer virus of unknown origin that is making me feel like I have double my quota of gravity.

I said no to cookies – well, I said yes to one cookie, and then realized that cookies right now are a fool’s proposition and sent them away.   I am happily out of whack in that regard.  I also said no to banana nut bread.  I want to do low carb.  I’m having, though, nevertheless, despite all that, A DEEPLY SHITTY DAY.  A day where I have to reconcile all the stuff I didn’t get done because I had all this other stuff to do and knowingly didn’t deal with because I couldn’t but I kept thinking eventually I would and today…it slammed me in the face.  It’s one of those days when if you had someone to go home to and do a post-mortem with, you’d put it in its necessary context, you’d feel, I’m sure, cossetted and protected and re-balanced and okay as a result.   I don’t got that, at least not really, and so, I have the vast internet to dump my bullshit on for FREE.  Apologies if you signed up for a grave, bright-eyed, pilgrim of truth and light.

I cannot wait to get home and internet with the friends and then, if I have enough energy, to take care of a few things at the house (RESPONSIBILITY RULES!) and then defrag with an early night.   I’m seriously looking into getting a massage, but the whole idea of it sorta, weirds me out?  It shouldn’t, but I just shy away from a lot of human contact even if it’s probably the thing I need to heal.  Sad, but true.  Maybe I’m not getting enough blood to my brain.  Maybe that’s more of a chronic issue.

Today I got told once again to SMILE!  Sigh.  I was just sitting there, minding my own business, in mid-conversation with two other people.   Apparently, I wasn’t minding my face.  This is probably indicative of a larger (if largely ineffectual) keep-back persona of mine that precipitates all this loneliness and complaining I do.  But I wonder if maybe the next time someone tells me that I should make up some shocking and horrific tale like I WOULD SMILE BUT MY WHOLE FAMILY was killed IN A HIDEOUS CAR ACCIDENT LAST NIGHT AND I JUST DON’T FUCKING FEEL LIKE IT.  And then when they apologize profusely for being such an obnoxious busybody, I’ll say WELL, NOT REALLY, BUT I STILL DON’T FUCKING FEEL LIKE IT.

Right now, I want to be the girl that everyone’s scared to talk to instead of the girl that everyone thinks won’t mind.



Sometimes you just have to find a way to do it.

Today was a really gaping, lonely day.   I think it’s started to rain this misty, angel hair rain that you have to question if it’s even raining at all.  The river is surging at work and I’m starting to work on the poem, very slowly and slightly, not trying to force it.  The river is helping, actually, it’s making me think about other poems and the fact that I can, when I want, write.   It helped to remember all of that, the whole shebang, where I have a clue and a skill and I’m not just a SECRETARY FROM PEORIA!

Food was goodish.  Not perfect.  Mostly because I’m not eating enough – well, enough, but I’m still peckish.  And I’m sure this entry is going to be really obnoxious and scattershot.  Not particularly informational.  Not the best of the year-long blog project.

The air was cooler today and that is a wonderful thing.  Lets me think.  I went over to the parents and my mother and I took a walk. It helped, too, to take the huge weight of nothing I was worried about and set it like a wisp to the winds.

I can get so wrapped up in things that really have no relation to anything going on in my head or in my life, but for a brief period, those things consume my brain- the worst is children crying.  Outside our window.  That little anguish, that unheard voice, that frantic emotion reaches my ear and unnerves me.  Let’s let it go for a second.  Let’s breathe and think.
There needs to be a balance between taking care of our own emotional needs and caring about other people’s issues.   At one extreme is the narcissism that sees nothing.   Maybe sometimes I get blindsided by this, I work hard to be aware of it when I’m so fixated on how put upon I am and how much of a martyr and to let it go…but I have to let myself feel some things.  Like today, an old friend whom I haven’t talked to in years, got married.  It shouldn’t mean anything huge, but it does mean something to me with reasoning and weight behind it, that I’ve never shared with anyone.  His being married makes me, well, sad.  Not that we would ever, in any imagination, be married.  It’s just…this tangible grief that I’ve been trying to stuff down and not process it.  I deserve to feel something about it.  I’m human, damnit.  I can find a phantom pain and to get rid of it, I think sometimes I just need to process it and let it go.  To allow myself that luxury.

I am much more susceptible to find myself doing the empath thing and disassociating and instead letting myself invest in other people’s day to day troubles.

But now, we’re working on vacation plans and I don’t feel so caught up in my own head and my own demands on the plans of the universe for my future.


Today: 149.5