don't forget to pack the rings
don’t forget to pack the rings
See you tomorrow, blistering heat.
See you tomorrow, blistering heat.
How someone who hates to fly prepares for a six hour flight
Reading list: [Because on a six hour flight I will generally switch between books a total of 12 times]
- NOS4A2- Joe Hill
- Old Man’s War - John Scalzi (already started)
- Fargo Rock City - Chuck Klosterman (already started)
- Pirate Cinema - Cory Doctorow
- Fuzzy Nation - John Scalzi
- Magic For Beginners - Kelly Link
- Jellyfish Dreams - M. Thomas Gammarino
- John Dies in the End - David Wong (about ten pages left)
4 playlists for iPod have been made, for four distinct moods. Just in case.
3 games downloaded on iPad.
One pad and pen for finally writing down those vows.
In addition to the above reading material, the flight has wifi. so there will be plenty of twittering and Words With Friends/Letterpress.
Xanax.
OK FINE I’M GOING TO PLAY CANDY CRUSH FOR SIX HOURS.
My son, after I asked him why he was using so much data.
My son, after I asked him why he was using so much data.
Incoming on Flickr.
Incoming on Flickr.
Tick tock tick tock. 50 minutes until wedding vacation begins....
Last day of work before vacation. Last day of work as a single...
Last day of work before vacation. Last day of work as a single lady. on Flickr.
i wanted to tell you
I wanted to tell you how excited I am for my vacation to start tomorrow. I wanted to tell you how thrilled I am to be going back to California again. I wanted to tell you how nervous/happy I am to be marrying Todd in four days. I wanted to tell you about the wedding vows I’m writing and the plans we have for our trip. I wanted to tell you about Todd’s new job, about stuff at work, about the funniest thing the puppy did last night. I wanted to tell you about the weird dreams I had the past few nights and this new band I discovered recently and I wanted to tell you about the short story I’m writing. I wanted to tell you how frustrated I am with my writing career right now and I wanted to bitch about getting my period when I keep hoping this crap is over already. I wanted to really really tell you how my heart flutters every time I think about Todd slipping a wedding ring on my hand. I wanted to talk to you about this glorious weather and maybe talk a little about my flying anxiety and my vacation preparedness anxiety and I wanted to know what you are all doing this weekend and how you’re feeling and what’s going on in your lives. I wanted to tell you about preparations for my magazine that’s launching hopefully at the end of the month. I wanted to tell you so much. But my head is so full of words and feelings right now they are all mixed together and coherent sentences are just not my forte at the moment and I feel like all I can talk about is getting married because, hey in four days I’m getting married to an amazing, wonderful man who just so happens to be my best friend and it’s all I can think about or talk about and no matter what I try to talk about instead it all comes back to that. I wanted to tell you about so many things but instead I’ll just keep saying in a tone of marvel and wonder, hey, I’m getting married. I can’t help it. I wanted to tell you that in four days I’ll talk about something else but for now this is it and maybe I should apologize for that but I won’t. I wanted to tell you a lot of things but there’s this one thing right now, just this one thing.
I like it.
I like it.
I've listened to the new QOTSA about fifteen times...
I've listened to the new QOTSA about fifteen times now.
It's a really, really good album. Really well crafted.
But is it a really, really good QOTSA album?
I don't know. There's something about it that's not letting me grab hold of it.
I think I was looking for a Millionaire. There's no Millionaire on this album. There wasn't on Era Vulgaris, either.
I'm still waiting for another STFD, I guess. I should probably let that go.
Five days!! on Flickr.
Five days!! on Flickr.
Sorry would love to chat but I've fallen down a wormhole...
Sorry would love to chat but I've fallen down a wormhole consisting of places that used to exist on Long Island when I was a kid. See ya soon.
Going to settle on this as my review until I can write a full...
Going to settle on this as my review until I can write a full one after vacation.
I went through several stages of "this is my favorite off...
I went through several stages of "this is my favorite off the album" today and landed on this, for now.
Down time on Flickr.
Down time on Flickr.
Six days on Flickr.
Six days on Flickr.
Queens of the Stone Age - Kalopsia The album is officially out...
Queens of the Stone Age - Kalopsia
The album is officially out today. Go buy it. Seriously.
I'm going to try to write a full review of it before I go on vacation.
Short review: I really like it.
lost and found
Clothes shopping is one of the most depressing things to do when you’re overweight.
Try doing it when you’ve lost a bunch a weight then gained a good portion of that weight back.
It’s disheartening, humiliating and fills me with self loathing.
How did I gain back more than half the weight I lost? Well, it’s easy to blame it on everything. There was Sandy and the two lost weeks that got me out of my working out routine. There was the Abilify, which increased my appetite. There’s my age, which makes it harder to take weight off and keep it off. There’s stress eating and oh has there been stress. There’s my cyclical depression which I react to by, you got it, eating. There’s been so much going on in my life I feel like I sort of just dropped out of caring about anything but just existing on a day to day basis and “just existing” does not include working out. Oh, I’ve worked out here and there. I went for a few runs. I did some home workouts on the Wii Fit or the Kinect. But I lost that going to the gym routine somewhere along the line. I got lazy. And I stopped caring because I had other things to care about.
Excuses, excuses. Where just a few months ago I was wearing a size ten (I know, size ten is still FAT to most people but when you once shopped in Avenue for a size 2X dress, size ten is HOLY SHIT I’M THIN), my dress for my wedding is a size 14. I could fit in the 12, but it’s uncomfortable. So I opted for the comfort of a slightly bigger 14. The jeans I bought for vacation? 14. I’m not taking any of the 10s away with me. It’s all 12s and 14s.
I’m mad at myself. So angry. And you know what? My anger is not even the correct kind of anger. Yea, I’m angry at myself for slacking off, for becoming unhealthy again, for looking like this after looking like that. I’m angry that I can’t zipper up my favorite pants. I’m angry at myself for letting it all go to hell, all that hard work I put in day after day in the gym, counting food points, all that stuff. Gone to hell. But you know what I’m most angry at myself for? Because I feel like I’ve given people permission to talk about me.
The thing about losing a lot of weight is people notice it. Of course, that’s a good thing. You get compliments. You get encouragement. You feel great when people say “Wow, you look so good now!” even though in the back of your head you’re thinking “Oh, I looked terrible before?” because you (I) can’t take compliment. But if they’re saying all that stuff when you lose weight, imagine what they’re saying as you put it back on. This is what I think about when I look in the mirror. I worry what people are saying. I wonder if they’re shaking their heads and saying things like “Such a pity, she found all the weight she lost,” or “I knew she couldn’t keep it off.” I spend my entire day feeling like I’m being judged. That people are going to stop thinking well of me as a person because I piled the pounds back on. I feel like a failure. And feeling like a failure is so hard when you have failed at something you were so recently succeeding at.
Why do I care what other people think about me? Why do I care so much what they say about my weight or dress size or thighs? I’m supposed to be the only one whose opinion of me I care about, right? Ok, but I take my opinion of myself and project it on to everyone; my family, my friends, my coworkers, even Todd. I imagine - and maybe this is narcissistic of me but there’s a fine, fine line between narcissism and paranoia - they’re all whispering about me, judging me, wondering out loud to each other why I can’t just put down the pizza or get back on the treadmill. Every time someone talks to me I assume they are thinking to themselves “My god, she let herself go.”
I wonder where I’d be if I kept it up, kept up the healthy eating and working out. But does it matter? Because even if I got down to a size eight I’d probably still be hating on my body and myself because it’s what I conditioned myself to do.
I’m 50 years old. At what point do I say fuck it and just live my life without striving for some seemingly unattainable goal? When do I just give up? And when do I stop caring so damn much about what everyone else thinks of me?
Because I’ve been obsessing about this it’s taken on warped proportions in my head, as has my weight. I see myself not as I am but larger, wider, until I can only see myself as looking like the fat lady in the circus, someone who is nothing but lumps and flab, shaped like an overgrown potato. My self image is not what my image really is but lord, trying on clothes that are two sizes larger than clothes you were wearing just two months ago can really do a number on how you see yourself.
And of course, how I see myself is how I assume others see me. Which makes me assume they’re talking about me. Which makes me feel shameful.
I imagine my wedding day, just six days away, and all I can see is this whale of a person taking up all the room in a small chapel while her physically fit husband-to-be stares at her incredulously. “Do you take this fat, bloated woman with the giant thighs to be your wife?”
This is what my brain has been doing to me.
I know I don’t look that awful. But I don’t look anything like I did two months ago and that is fucking with me a great deal. Obviously.
So what do I do about it? I get back on the horse. Back to the gym. Back to running. Back to eating healthy. I fight the stressors in my life. I try to treat myself better. I ignore the voices. I keep going.
All easier said than done. But I am determined to get back down to a healthier weight. I have to stop stuffing my feelings in my face. I have to stop finding excuses not to go to the gym or even work out at home.
I think my first step to being physically healthy is to be mentally healthy. And that means to stop letting my perceived judging by other people make me feel shamed. Because a shame spiral is a spiral filled with food and laziness.
I accept who I am as a person. But I do not accept this body I’m inhabiting right now or the mental state it’s putting me in.
HOLY CRAP IT'S FRIED FUCKING CHEESECAKE on Flickr.
HOLY CRAP IT'S FRIED FUCKING CHEESECAKE on Flickr.
Celebration lunch on Flickr.
Celebration lunch on Flickr.
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