Struggly

Today the cashier at Trader Joe's asked me how my day was. I was paused for thought and replied, "I'm so glad tomorrow is Friday." He saw, "Today sucked." in my eyes and, "I'm trying to get passed it." in my weak smile.

Somethings is rotten in denmark y'all. And by "Denmark" I mean my bowels. And by "rotten" I mean stubborn. Shit just isn't happening without little blue pills. And it took 3 round of 3 blue pills for the Shit Mongers to do their duty on a weeks worth of intake. I realize I've been blogging A LOT on this topic lately but do you have any idea how it feels to have a weeks worth in you? Week after week? It's painful and awful. And I suppose the only worse than laxxies working is laxxies NOT working. And I'm trying so hard to correct my ED bad habits.

As much as I try to eat right. As much as I'm trying to exercise. My body denies me the Feel Good and has me feeling like shit. Literally and figuratively, of course. And the scale numbers are so high and though my body may not necessarily reflect this in the fullest in the way of flab, the size of my body does. It's frustrating.

I slept from the time I got home yesterday until waking up to go to work this morning and still felt like I had only 3 hours of sleep. I felt awful today and it wasn't helping that the lax were in full swing. And I could not satisfy my hunger. So I ate and shit and bitched all day. I'm a peach.

I really wanted to fuckitall and nomvom today. I can't win. That was my reasoning. I didn't want to though. More of me didn't want to nomvom and through my health away than the part that did. NomVom was more of a give up and make myself feel worse which made the fact that I just wanted to call it a loss of a good day as opposed to a slaughter.

Today it wasn't "all or nothing." Trader Joe's was after I got home and saw that there was no food. I looked at the Vegan Trail Mix Cookies and the allure that they had in my mind's eye on the drive home from work was not there in person. I bought my regular healthy food and moved on. The TJ's cashier also said, "If it's a trying week that means your doing something right."

I hope he is right. I really want to be healthy. I may have boughts of misery but there is a light at the end of the tunnel to health, notsomuch for the ED tunnel.

Two Steps Forward and One Step Back

Who is stepping forward? THIS GIRL! (I'm pointing at me. Like a Champ.) (CHAMP!) 

In my blue suede shoes!

Okay, maybe not that last part, but if I blue sued pumps, I may or may definitely rock them and point at myself. Point at myself like a Champ. I suppose a Champ In Training would be more accurate. 

I continue to progress. I may have NomVommed on Sunday but 1 day out of 14 is definitely a huge improvement. HUGE. I've also been exercising (however minimally) just about everyday. I eating healthy, balanced and homemade without getting cray cray. I've been more social (cue: gasp). And I'm seeing improvements in my overall physique. DO YOU HEAR THAT SCALE?! FUCK YOU! I'M IMPROVING!

*ahem*

Bitch Scale is stubborn. And mean. As are my clothes.... so basically this means that my body is just reshaping. Whatever. I'll take it. Improvement is improvement. Curves > Lumps. True Story. Plus, I'm eating and I'm not vomming. The best is yet to come. I'm building muscle, I can tell because I feel stronger. Not like The Hulk Status, for the record. My fat is starting to join Team Muscle. Or die. Either way. I'm not losing.

Since I had a good week (health-wise) today I started jogging. I don't jog, you guys. This is Big. I'm following one of those beginner runner training mabobbers. Today was day 1. I'm alive. So far, so good. Onward to Day 2.

A win is a not lose.

Rather unsuccessful at failing this week, which is a win. I put effort into not failing, though it's more of a Win Week by default. I did not exercise as much as I'd liked to and I overate some days.

Non-losing aspects of this week: I ate healthy foods; that I prepared. (Preparation is bonus points!) I did some intervals workouts... okay, like a half of an interval or two... Moving > Not Moving. (Default Win.) I kept the house clean, which had me feeling good when I woke up each morning.

I'm kind of proud of Not Failing this week considering: I'm on my period, My mom is out of town (free to nomvom in peace), and I was constipated all week. ALL WEEK! I'm five days pregnant with shit, which is Poo Time is quite significant. I finally bought some laxies today after work and hopefully by tomorrow in the AM I'll have.... delivered.

Non poopery is a sign that my digestive system is fucked, my metabolism is about as quick as a snail in molasses. And let's not even get into my relationship with food, the mirror, and numbers.

Bulimia is no way to live and a slow road to dead. Trying to find a reasonable detour to get back to Life Boulevard.

Bad Planning

Friday.... hah! No starting on Friday Starters up in here! Let us count the ways in which Friday Starting was a bad idea. 

1. Mom leaving. Empty house means loneliness which results in emotions. Bad News Bears.
2. Holiday Weekend. Holidays mean Crazy Food Environments in which one of many ramifications include anxiousness to the max.
3. Period on the rise. 'Nuff said.

There ya have it, 3 good reasons why Friday resulted in NomVomminess. Oh well. Starting back at one today. The second. A Saturday. Day one of the Red Tide. During a holiday weekend. Let us not count the ways in which this is not a recipe for success. This road is going to be long, hard and slow. Long, Hard and slow in a Non Pleasurable way. 

Anyhow, I did start counting my calories in a guestimatey sort of way and I'm at an upwards of 1800-2000 cals these past 2 days. (Prevom on Friday) That's crazy right? (Rhetoricle.) It is indeed. I could share with you the endless Talks of Dissapointment and Disgust that I had with myself but I'll spare you. Partly because, they didn't happen and mostly because that's just eye pollution for you. What I am gonna do is all I can do. Look forward.

Clearly, better meal planning needs to take place. Being a vegetarian and trying to avoid processed foods coupled with Being The Laziest Girl On Planet Earth makes meal planning a bit more on the efforty side. Try no processed food for a week, I challenge you! GO! Just kidding, do what works for you :) What is going to start working for me (because I'm going to make it a habit) is preparing food for the week. I did fairly well the last two weeks of prepping lunches for the week but there is room for improvement. Like minding my calories by preparing more low cal foods like eggwhite salad and incorporating lots of vegetables. Which means I'm going to have to get better at picking out vegetables in the store. I tend to go for vegetables that are frozen or prepared for you. LazyPants.

Also! Exercise! Getting to the gym. I'm going to shoot for 2-3 mornings at the gym which means I'm going to really have to get good rest at night. I've realized what helps me sleep better is being prepared. I wake up easier when my clothes are clean, my gym bag is ready, my lunch is ready to roll and oddly, when my room is clean and the dishes are washed. Cleanliness and organization does something magical to the psyche. Even if I stay up a little later than I wanted, when everything is prepped and clean, the rest is restier. 

Not trying to move mountains or anything with getting better. I'm trying to be reasonable and make small changes. Although I would love to wake up skinny and perfect tomorrow, with a life all healthy balanced and streamlined that shit just ain't gonna happen, and if it did, it's unlikely that it would happen for very long. Fit and healthy and thin is what I long in the long run. I'd much rather be healthy and thin and fit in a year for many years than thin in a month and fat the month of two after that. It's clear that I can't keep up this crazy ED charade without being unhappy.

Team Tortoise

Today is my 8th day yall. That, I believe, is a record for the year!

But I'm fat.

If you want something to play with go and find yourself a toy cuz the scale will tell it like it is, and It, ladies, it's Fatso Palooza. I eat healthy foods and I exercise so I'm not as Jiggly Gelaton that can be a tad more devastating at this weight. I'm trying this thing were you don't starve and go buck wild on some crazy diet where you end up eating a boatload of tastey chemicals with a slight aftertaste and zero calories.

Homie don't play that. *gets hit with sock* THIS TIME, I meant this time!

Cycle of Fuckery? Been there, done that. THIS TIME, I'm gonna try this thing that I've been hearing about on the podcasts I listen to. Where you actually eat real food and exercise. They make you eat a shitload of calories which is scary as shit but I'm desperate. I believe I have reached the point where my desperation to be healthy+fit+thin+not miserable & vomming has outweighed my desperation to be thin. I want the whole package! I'm going for the All-Around in this bitch!

I have actually been trying this for the past month or so, but I couldn't seem to make it past the weekend without getting cray-cray to the may-day in the kitchen, knowatamsayin'? It's not a flip the switch kind of thing really, I've really been working at this. The days of Fuckery may or may have definitely had to do with alcohol and hangovers. Funny thing that the Monday this streak started I was resolving not to drink for a while.

....


AND THEN! Come 40 minutes later I get invited to wine tasting for a birthday. The universe is mocking me. The universe got jokes and THEY'RE NOT FUNNY! YOU HEAR THAT, UNIVERSE! NOT! FUNNY!

I went, of course, but I lucked out that it was more of an extended lunch (I had salad, no dressing) and wine. 2 glasses and then some more hanging at the birthday girls house but there was no bingery. I drove home. Ergo, no hangover.

Lina - 1, Universe - .2 (I still went drinking... wine be thy cryptonite.)

Whatever the score, a win is a win. So I made it to and thru day 8. (Okay, thru-ING since technically the day is not over.) I'm desperate. DESPERATE! I want the package! I want it ALL! And if it's going to take longer for the whole package than I am rising to the challenge. A challenge it will be! (And is.) I've been eating in a fog of oblivion. Concentrating on revving my metabolism. I quit counting cals because seeing the numbers sends me flying of the moon. And the cow need not jump over the moon in this tale.

Who starts on a Friday? FRIDAY!? This girl. (I'm pointing at myself. I'm that girl.) Shit starts on Friday, counting shit. I'm gonna be eating a lot of calories but I'm pretty certain it's less than I have been eating in my Fog Of Oblivion, FOO, if you will. Reiterating the Flip Switch Tip, I didn't want this to be a drastic change, I eat healthy on the regular and I've slightly increased exercising. So counting is only added to the equation, not like I'm revamping the diet, same healthy foods...just more controlled in portions.

Slow and steady. Just cruisin', yeah I'm cruisin'. I'll be cruisin' to Skinny Street.

This past month has been a prep state. I talked about healthy food and exercise but I think we can all agree that there is more to weight loss than that. With the energy increase comes Getting Shit Done, long time readers may recall this to be the 2011 slogan. Not only am I keeping a non-pig stye-ish room but I'm taking it to the next step, I've been a little cleaner in all areas of the house. A clean kitchen makes preparing lunch so much less efforty. I've taken to prepping lunches on sunday. Preparation has helping me enter the day with a peace of mind that has me singing and speeding on the way to work. True story. I've also started taking a bunch of different vitamins to help my biochemistry.

I listen to a podcast of nutritionist and you not believe how lacking certain vitamins and minerals can make a person all crankypants or schizopants, among other undesirable traits that are largely factored into moods, energy, and junk. Mind blown. Every week. Little by little I'm tweaking life shit for the healthier and, by golly, Ferret Status is gonna happen!

Eventually. Slow and Steady.... Team Tortoise!

8 days, you guys. I'm serious this time!

Busy Bee!

Speaking of bees, my friends have an epic bee hive complete with like 5 or 6 rows of honeycombs! Like 500,000 bees the Bee Guy estimates. True story. I saw the picture! I heard the buzzing! I was there you guys. Bees really are busy just in case you ever doubted. And should you ever cross a naysayer you just tell them a stranger on the internet said it was true so it's legit. I mean, if the internets say so it must be true, right? Also, completely unrelated news; ignorance is blissful.

So I've been busy beeing and that's the buzz. I'm working full time now and then some. Viva la Overtime y viva dinero en el banco! Can I getta 'Amen!' (I'm just gonna take the liberty of pretending that you 'Amen'ed all enthusiastic-like and pumped your fist in the air a little since this is not live blogging.) I've decided to work full time and take the slow lane on the Education Highway. Who ever said money isn't happiness... prolly has some cuz like it may not be like the main ingredient in the Scambled Eggs of Life but you definitely need a pan to make that shit. Happiness is the pan. Lost you still? ....  Moving on.

I lied. Back to Lina Worker Bee cuttin on the Flushin'! We all know that the NomVom is my drug of... well, it's my drug. And if you've been reading this blog ever at all you know it's what I'm always muttering all hatey mchaterton style on the nomvom tip. Work and overtime are helping me in a roundabout kinda way to cut the drug. Hugs not drugs y'all. You heard it here first [today]. The overtime was sort of a double edge sword. On one hand I was working and not vomming, on the other hand I was exhausted and the LupusMonsters sleep was being disturbed. Waking monsters is Bad News Bears but then so's the NomVomMonster. Not the best of times, not the worst of times. Coasting. It's not like I could tell people that I'm killing myself at work to avoid NomVom. Plus, I'm pretty sure they don't read this blog and wouldn't know what the fuck I'm talking about when I say NomVom anyway. So there's that.

Lucky for me, I weathered the OT Storm with no need for doctors visits. I made money. I saved money (nomvoms ain't cheap). Win. Win. Well... I still had episodes but cutting down to 2-3 times a week is improvement from nearly everyday. And I'm happy to say that this week I worked 40 hours and I did not nomvom. There were festivities. There were fumbles; but I did not fall! I did not flush! The Wifey McWifeyPants' voice of reason and reminder of The Streak helped a lot today, I was considering The Drug. Win.

Not being consumed in ED is grrrrrr-ATE! (Tony the Tiger Point Pump!) I got stuff done! Normal people stuff! Dishes! Check. Brown Bagging Lunch! Check. The Dreaded laundry! Check. Haircut! Check. Oil Change! Check. Send iPhone to the doctors! Check. Hanging with Friends! Checkity Check! I think I really drove my point home, so I'm gonna spare anymore of my checks, let's just say I'm WIN-NING! Like Sheen. Minus the drugs. Double the Tigers Blood. Triple the Awesome!!! Quadruple the the exclamation points!!!! YEAH! LET'S CAPS LOCK THIS BITCH! CAPS LOCK AND POPPIN'!

*ahem*

Time for bed now for some Sheen Dreams featuring WIN-NING!

A Little Less Conversation...

A little more action, please!

That little gem goes out to Me, Myself, & I.

(And you too if you want it. I'm not that stingy.)
(A little tho... I am an only child, after all.)

I blog and blog of the changes I want to make and then I get home and do the same damn thing. Broken Record much? I at least need and nice and Sheeny new record to play that agrees with all of me. Because I assure my ass and my eyes are feuding right now. Along with various other parts of my body... it's war you guys. War.

I'm not set up for success. My messy and lonely so lone-LEEEEEEEEEE I have no bod-EEEEEEEEE for my-*ahem* My lonely and messy environment really isn't helping the good-get up jump the boogie to the the rhythm of the boogity beat and do a little dance and make a little love and get down and get up get up and get down in my black chevrolet. No wait. I don't have a black chevy. Scratch that last part.

In my Land of Ideals that I skip off to in my dreams I was going to be done with school and embrace summer with newness, and freshness, and fabulousness! And champagnes, of course. Yeah... you know where this is going, we've been here too many times, I know. The path is well worn and each time I travel it I hope it is the last time, this time is no different.

I'm working on coming up with a plan. A plan that will work. I have goals people. Bikini Goals....okay, more like "Anti-Moo Moo" Goals. In one week is Memorial Day. I doubt I will be doing anything but JUST IN CASE! I still would like to be in a non-hippopotamus state if any enticing invites come my way! Also, this Memorial Day will be a week momentum for the Balloon and Wine Festival! And some gorgeous Son of a Winery may whisk me away in a hot air balloon (hopefully one with red, red is my favorite color) and propose marriage. Or ask me on a date. Either way, must be ready!

But in those 2 weeks to Wine Time Dreamery... what to do? Work? Absolutely. I'm starting to work full time come Monday! Officially, anyhow. I'm working this weekend. Girls got to pay off the Noms and the service I need done to my car. And I'll continue to try and rack up the hours and watch my bank account grow again, pick up the fat that my body loses? A solid plan for sure.

But there again... what to do about food. My arch nemisis. I don't know how to choose food. I need my brain to function and so I want to nourish my body; and yet, starve it at the same time? What a quandary.  When it comes to eating I don't know what to do, I don't know what to eat. When I get home I NomVom out of habit. I don't want to, I just do... I don't know what else to do...

I don't know how to not be a bulimic. It has become me; I, it. An exorcism is in order. Y'know, since the end of the world got post-poned and all.

Knock Knock Knocking on Summer's Door

I didn't even want to NomVom today. But I did. And it was Mad Dirty. I just had to do it. Like a normal person would feel the need to have to do laundry. (Which I still got to get to, now that I mention it!) I'm done with school. (Not to be confused with school being over.) So I didn't go to classes today, I nomvommed and loathed all NomVommy and Self-Loathey-like. Punishment. I wanted to vom. I needed it. How sick am I? (Don't answer that; it's rhetorical.)

I feel  a sense of relief. Guilt for quitting but mostly relief that I decided to quit and I did. As I said in the last post, I just can't do it anymore. I couldn't tap into that part of me that chooses to swim rather than sink. Actually, that piece of me has been missing for weeks now.

With the closing of one door, another opens? I thinks so. (Let's fly on over to the Land of Ideals, shall we?) (We shall. That was another rhetorical.) (I'M ON FY-YA!) And this is what needs to be on the other side of this door I shall call Summer.

• Tennis
• Reading
• Yoga
• Friends
• Swimming/Jaccuzi-ing
• Long Walks
• Gym
• Photoshop (I'm a geek)
• Novellas (Spanish Learning Exercise)
• Room Decorating

Of course, I want tons more to happen. Like going to the beach and Fun Things (and Fun Things involving Champagne), the items on this list, though, are what I'm hoping to distract myself with instead of Nomming and vomming. Diverting Attention y'all, that's the goal! (Does anybody wonder how this Mexican Girl, this Mexican Girl right here get's all Alabama when I get gung ho? I'm a weirdo. Possibly a weirdo Mexican with Hillbilly roots.)

Remember when I said todays NomVom was Mad Dirty? I meant that literally and figuratively. And I literally gotta clean up! Dishes and Laundry await.

Views from Stress Mountain

I have about a week of school left. Give up? Yes Please. Oh wass that? I already put in my order for that? Well then. I'm pretty much failing all of my classes. I should be doing homework right now but like a bulimic puppet I'm NomVoms away. Plus, is it even worth doing? I don't know. My stress point is at it's apex. Adding stress is like pushing my body further onto this bed of nails that I've made for myself but for some reason I just won't get off the bed. I've climbed to the top of my proverbial Stress Mountain. I can't brain anymore, so here I sit on my mountain waiting for... something magical to happen? I'm pretty sure that's what mountain climbing is about.

*crickets*

Newp. No magic. (Yea_I_donewannahearItoldyouso) Just me atop a mountain of stress. All sadpants and vommery. It just doesn't feel right to climb down the mountain until schools over... even though I've completely stopped trying. But then...why am I still hanging onto all the stress? Why am I still going through the motions of a stressed out girl worried about finals? I'm hanging onto the stress because it is all I know. What is it like to just do things without the drama?

That's what stress and worry is, I think; drama. I can not wash the dishes and gross out and procrastinate because I don't wanna get my hands wet and I can give myself shit each minute that goes by with the nagging thought of "do the dishes." At the end of the day, all that drama is (1) not getting the dishes done and (2) not changing anything about the dishes; there is no magic that happens when I stress and worry; where a Stress Fairy waves her magic wand and makes the dishes less dirty or less there. (I may need red glittery heels like Dorothy, that may be key) So I just torture myself with the nagging. Same thing with school (and everything else in my life). I add the drama of stress and worry. But the shitty part is... I don't know how to be otherwise. 

I don't know how to not stress. It feels... wrong. I have this weird feeling of guilt if I am not stressing over something. I'm selective in my stress, I choose work, school, finances, and, of course, weight. I leave little to absolute zero room for things outside this realm. I don't know what to do with myself. I can be taking steps to help with some of these stressors but the thought of tackling any of the tasks is daunting. And so I do nothing. I shut my brain off. Gaze with blind eyes at the television, clicking my way to random articles on the internet and skimming with half interest. I'm going through the motions but nothing sinks in. Another day wasted. But it's not just another day, really. It's my life that I am wasting. But I don't know how to live. I'm afraid to.

And this crazy belief that I need to be stressed about something and everything is utterly ridiculous and annoying. Because I'm a thinker and I've thunk this thought. Trying to trace back to the root cause. And where does it go, you ask? Mommy issues. Sonnuva!! Always blaming my mom. It's the only break I get! If I'm not stressing about something than she assumes everything is gravy. I have to add the drama of stress so that she won't push me, so that she won't nag me. It's lame really, I stress myself out (consequently poking my Lupus Monster in the ribs whilst it tries to sleep) and when she tries to come at me with anything, I play the stress and Lupus card. It's my excuse. It's weaksauce.

It's like if I were to call in sick to work without the sickness, I would end up getting sick because of the guilt. I'm calling in Stress and Lupus to life and ending up more and more Stressed and Lupey. The mind is powerful, y'all! It can do things! From arithmetic to sickness. It's the guvna or something and I need that bitch to change direction. Just gotta figure out how...

You know you're a bulimic when...

• You almost spit into the toilet after brushing your teeth.
• You calculate calories for the entire package rather than for a serving.
• You  choose foods by taste up and down.
• You judge food by how easily they return to your lips.
• You eat in order of "good" to "bad" just in case of digestion.

I wish I could say that reading a book flipped a switch of no return. Switches were indeed flipped but when it comes to permanent changes a book cannot undo all the psychological damage done over the years. Emotions are still there. Emotions are still overwhelming.

Not that I'm going to give up ;) I will not accept bulimia.

New Book, New Resolve?

I'm reading a new book. It's telling me not to diet. That's: not diet, you read correctly. I've heard of this book  before and I thought "bitch is crazy" with an afterthought of, "and probs has a muffin top." And she may very well have one (I haven't googled imaged her...YET). A blogger who is formerly a bulimic read it and it changed her and I'm drowning in the vom over hear and living in fear of the nom so I thought fuck it, if the library has it, I'll give it a go.

I've given everything to bulimia. I'm bulimia's bitch. And it's not a position I like to be in. It's a fucked up and abusive relationship and I keep trying to find my way out. But I'm a Namby Pamby and end up in the same position ready to take it in my proverbial arse. If it where an Ed with a P, I may renegotiate, but that's neither here nor there.

There are some nice little nuggets so far that I'd like to share with you ladies.

"The fourth law of the universe is that for every diet, there is an equal and opposite binge."

True story. Ask my arse and/or flusher machine. (You are use to my crassness on the NomVom topic by now, yes?) The diet rebellion seems to always retaliate and wreak havoc on scale. There is always that discipline and motivation when the diet starts the "I will!" and the "I will never again!"'s and where does that go? It's smashed by the Diet Rebellion! If you've been following this blog for a while I'm continually making and consequently breaking new rules. I try to make rules that I can follow because I do want to succeed, however, I have a tendency of pushing the envelope or simply... just giving into eating my emotions. Somehow "If I feel really overwhelmed, devour the kitchen-while shouting 'NOMVOM'S AWAAAAAYYYY!!!'" clause always seems to be written between the lines in Devil's Ink. I'm pretty sure bulimia is a thing of Satan.

Enter The Book. It's called "When You Eat at the Refrigerator, Pull Up a Chair" by Geneen Roth. How could I resist with a title like that?! That title is derived from chapter 3 where Roth suggests imagining a friend comes over and you are going to feed her the way that you feed yourself and precedes to describe a binge; eating random foods straight from the fridge and whatnot. She then tells the reader to imagine treating their self like those you love and sit in a chair as you eat. She has a point. I realized how little I care for myself. Furthermore, I realized that I eat very much the same way that my mom eats.

Enter the Mommy Issues. I'm so much like my mom, except for the fact that I realize how I am, where it comes from, how unhealthy (mind, body & soul) my ways are, and I, unlike Mommy Dearest, want to change my behavior! I don't want to live in a World of Denial! Darn this education! Once you become aware, there's just no turning back. It's either blissfully ignorant or painfully aware....OR that other thing where a person is who they choose to be AND they accept it AND are content with it. A person who recognizes what it is they are not satisfied with and actively change it so that it is no longer something that they are unsatisfied with? I get that nobody is "Happy" all the time. But there are people out there who are content and at peace more than they are not. I want to be one.

I have potential. I'm not going to lie to you guys and say that the reality of my life is horrible. My perception, however.... not so sparkly. I want so much more for myself than I am. And the part that is upsetting is that many of these wants are attainable. It's my mind that's fucking everything up! The mind is like my Right Hand Man, it has the ability to make or break me (or bend me? ...just go with it and let's hope this is leading to something...hope.), well this Right Hand Man is gettin' frisky with Bulimia and leaving me for dead to satisfy The Mistress' agenda!

Bulimia fucked up school for me. Bulimia has fucked up friendships (by way of Alienation Hibernation). Bulimia has fucked up relationships with family. Bulimia has fucked up my body. My teeth. My mind. My bank account....

Bulimia has kept me from doing so much. I'm exhausted. I'm tired of losing.

I need to be WIN-NING! Like Sheen! Minus the coke...the whores...the general fucked uppedness....

...

Okay, maybe not like Sheen. I think I may already be winning like Sheen. Minus the money and the public knowledge of The Cray-Cray.

I digress.

Back to Mommy Issues. My mom has never taught, and by taught I extend that to mean shown by example to care for myself. The only way I can try to explain is how when something is a little messed up or old and outdated at her boyfriends house she will have it replaced or have him replace it. At our house, however, things are held onto until they are peg legged, coughing, and on their last breathe before  she can even consider parting with it. She holds others' standard of living higher than ours. We have to just deal and "make do." She'd rather spend money on things for other people than for us. If it's messy... "it's just us" and then as soon as somebody is about to come over she wants to just hide everything away.

It's gross and embarrassing to me. If she could just invest a little into organization so that things have a place and follow through with that organization we could be living in a nice, clean and tidy home. And I guarantee both of our moods would improve!  But she won't change. She'll complain and talk about it but she lacks follow through. She has tunnel vision and fails to see that I am not the only reason we don't live in a tidy home. Her office is evidence.

I have tried to Be The Change. It ends up with her being all happy and motivated and then it wears off and I end up being the nag, to no avail because she's The Mom and she's a stubborn mule that is set in her comfortable ways. I've given up on changing the living environment outside of my room but I can see how it still has it's negative affects on my psyche. I may have a mild case of OCD. Even typing these last paragraphs has raised my stress/anxiety level.

I've got to climb out of this hole and start succeeding at life. And by succeeding I mean 'not hating mine.' So I'll have to step away from the flusher machine & stop treating myself like shit.

If you made it this far, thank you for listening to be gripe and ramble and give yourself a thumbs up and a high five.

....Are you clapping? Awww....shucks. I didn't need an applause! That's so kind :) Hahahaaaaa

Ter-Ry-Yin!

Trying to not suck Completely & Devastatingly at school.
Trying not to spend like the color of my credit card is Platinum.
Trying not sink further into this Cycle of Fuckery.

I feel like a damn rotten apple lately. Ideally, I'm Golden Delicious. Let's pretend that makes sense. Pretending is good. I like pretending. Reality is... Rotten Apple Status. Bloody Rotten Apples if you get my drift. And I like apples! That's the worse part! I have 3 weeks of school left, then I'm going to work full-time and everybody at the Job is super happy about it (including me, are you feeling the Workplace Love? cuz it's there!). These are good things. Like apples. Rotten is the Pain in the Lupus and Menstrual Biznazz & Stressity StressPants of School.

Work > School.

Thus, I'm taking the summer off to work. Plus, my SadPants bank account needs some fattening. That is THE ONLY thing around here that needs fattening tho. Fat bank accounts promote shoe shopping, which I'm pretty sure is a step in the right direction to world peace. And who doesn't like world peace? Hilter was even on board with that, but he wasn't as smart as I am and he didn't think that shoe shopping would be the way to do it. Idiot.

Fat Money = Good.
Fat Anything Else = Bad.

Speaking of summer. Breaks and paychecks aren't all that the season entails. Bathing Suits. Summer involves bikini's and bbq's... oh my. In fact, next weekend I'm Momma Pleasing on Mother's Day and she wants to spend time by the pool. Did I mention the NomVoms and Bloat as of late? Right.

It's only my mom, I'm stressing over wearing a bikini and it's only in front of my mom. It's not like I'm parading around on stage or around anybody I'll know. But I'm still freaking out. I can't even bear to see the HorrARRE in the mirror, let alone in front of people. How stupid is this? Don't answer that; I'm well aware.

And I'm TRYING! I'm trying to get the upper hand in the weight game. The upperhand comes, however, not when there is "trying" but when there is "DOING." I need to be a doer. I just need... something. I need fire. I need "umph." You guys! I don't have any "umph!" Without "umph" there is no fight! There is no fire! Speaking of dying fire... smoldering embers, if you will, I'm ty-yerd!

I Need Help.

We all do, really. But like most of you, I am not willing to take that step. I refuse. I try and tell myself that I'm going to beat this bulimic shit out of the park like Babe Ruth and end up like The Babe. Ya know, the pig? Right. It seems like I'm getting better but the fact of the matter is I'm just getting more and more use to the view. Bulimia is my coping mechanism. Bad day? Throw it up. Wash, rinse, swear next time I'll cope differently, and repeat.

School is shitty. (I'll pass yoga. One credit closer to an Associates.)
I'm poor and poor-ering. (I really wish I could blame this on new pumps rather than The Pumps.)
I think I kind of hate my mom. I need to get away but then it goes back to my second point and then my first.

There are so many "ways" that I am that I would like to change. I'm a believer in change. I am a believer that where there is a will there is a way. But that way would be so much shorter, easier and better if I could just get away from the lady who has conjured all these undesirable traits and is continually (albeit inadvertently) pressing the buttons. With one comment, one casual encounter, she can flip my mood. I feel so much tension in the air we are in the same vicinity. And by vicinity, I mean house.

These are the things that have recently taken a backseat to what I'm hoping is not a growing problem. In the past weeks I have a growing annoyance with my fingers and toes. It feels like some parasitic monster has gotten inside of me and is travelling via blood stream to the tips of my fingers and toes. Vacationing like my digits are the Florida Keys. It feels like they are trying to eat their way out, occasionally traveling up the coast. And by coast I mean up the outer side of my foot. From the minute I felt the first bite, I was hoping that it would be short lived. Still mutha fuckin munching, they are.

I couldn't tolerate it today. I went home after my first class... not helping the school situation. And then what did I do?! Cope-ish. VomNom's away! Not helping the fat situation nor my bank account since food costs money.  And it worked for that while when I was distracted with food and flushing. Now I am exhausted of vomming, feeling fatter than ever and the microscopic munchers are chomping away.

Did I mention I have Lupus? Stress is a huge trigger. And I am so trigged. School, money and the future. I don't know what I'm going to school for anymore. It feels like I will never get the hang of it. I am failing and hurts at my core. I kind of use these pains as a siren that I'm OVER-THE-MOON-AND-ON-PLANET-PLUTO-BACK-WHEN-IT-WAS-A-PLANET-STRESSED. It's school. It's fat. And life would be easier to just work. But when I was working I was miserable because it was going nowhere. Since I was a little girl I was always so sure that I would be educated and successful. I was also sure that I would eventually be beautiful, charming, stylish, and have an amazing svelte body. Bulimia was not ever in that dream.

What do I do?

Give up?

Keep going?

Neither seem to be a good option. I'm not a quitter. But I'm afraid that to keep going would be hurting me.  And then there is time. It's ticking. Father time is a workaholic, he hasn't had a day off ever.

...I'll just Publish Post now and not ramble on further and weigh ya down with my sadpants post.

Freeway Driving All the Day Long

There is no law against jotting and driving, right? All my awesome post ideas come to me while I'm driving. It's my me time. All this epicness, articulatity and thoughtful thoughts come flying at me and I'm catching them, all catchi-like, right? As soon as my car goes in park so does the articulousity.

Poof. Lost.

It's like I left my car in a 12 story parking structure the size of a country block, got drunk bar hopping and lost that ish! Only to realize it when I click on "New Post" and all I can seem to remember of the epicnousity that I was catching catchity catching style is a note on my pillow that reads, "Thanx for the AMAZING night. We should do it again sometime." And I'm like, "WHAT?! AMAZING?! HELLS YEAH BOI!! Wait... what happened?" And when I try to find the breadcrumbs back to my car, they're gone. Some fat fuck ate them (*cough* me) and I'm stranded.

But I have someplace to be! Some place of Articulousity and Thoughtful Thoughtyness! And it's suppose to happen right here in the blogosphere.

One of these days ladies, it's gonna happen. I'm gonna remember that AMAZING night and it's gonna happen again and again, like I am sure that AMAZING night was! And I'm gonna share them with you and your gonna be like, "Whoa," with your mouth agape, eyes peeled and hair blown back, "That was such the epicness. What articulatity. What thoughtful thoughts! Mind. Body. And Hair. Blown." And then your gonna click onto the next blog in your blogroll and forget all about me. Reality bites.


Speaking of reality and biting. I sure was biting today... and regurgitating the goodness. I almost went for the processed food. I had a box of cereal in my hand and I looked in side and then I was like, "NUNCA! Nunca me come este comida! NUNCA!" and I threw the box back and flew out of the kitchen and threw myself on my bed burying my face into my pillow sobbing! Just like the ladies would in the novellas I've been watching with my mom so I can try and learn español. (Don't google translate that sentence.) (Clearly, there is much to learn. Spanish is not a buried jewel in the blood waiting to be discovered. You have actually learn that ish. Big disappointment. HUGE!) Also, the ladies on that show are whales compared to their english speaking counterparts. Crazy.

That's all for tonight, I suppose. (Yeah, I know you didn't get anything but... let's just pretend!) I'm gonna try really hard to remember at least bits and pieces of my drive time pondering. I prolly would have had a better chance of it today if a moto police officer hadn't pulled up aside me and mouthed to "sul-LOW DOW-nnn!"

True Story.

(No love notes, thank gawd.)

Cycling

The cycle of vommery. I's in it. Well, in truth, I've never truly left it. The cycle will slow, slow to where I've even thought it stopped. But the thoughts of nomming and vomming continually entrap me. I need a exit plan! I need.... to jam the gears of this cycle and escape to witch mountain to Infinity and BEYOND!!

And until I figure that shit out. Or I find that trail of breadcrumbs that leads to a place where Champagne flows through waterfalls and Hot Muscley Men are pining for me. Just like it was in my dreams last night! Oh yee-ah baby! In other random and completely unrelated news, Restless Leg Syndrome is cured (temporarily I presume) by orgasms. Yes, that's right, good ole holistic medicine! Fellas, I need a fix. 

I'm never gonna look at shakey legged people the same. 

Oh shoot, MY leg is shaking. You see! You see! Before paragraph 2 that statement would not have been TMI! Now it's code for I-Need-To-Get-It-ON!

I digress (as per usual). I really gotta lose weight. I really gotta get this cycle of vommery to a halt! But, of course, the former is much more of concern to me than the latter because my thoughts are entrapped by The Cycle of Vommery. Which is a sub-cycle of The Cycle of Fuckery.

I need to drink more water. I need to... restrict.

FOCUS!

Focus on work. Focus on school. Focus on... ah fuck! I gotta do laundry. I'm out... clothes are in need of going through their own cycling.

Fuckery of the Mind

Most weekends go by without a hitch. This weekend was not one of those weekend. Emotions ran like wild horses through a war of indians and cowboys, all confused as fuck but free at the same time or are they? The world may never know.. Okay, maybe Dr. Dolittle, he might know. My Uncle came down from Utah to visit and miss him, I did. I've always admired him, intelligent and quick witted; a respectable man without trying. Of course, the rest of the fam bam was a missin' as well and, naturally, a cookout was in order. A cook at at Casa de Flushed. *Sigh*

For all of you who are not In The Know these are not few hour occasions, these are night they got here, breakfast to midnight snack events. We're mexicans, it's how we do. (I'm also fluent in hick y'all!) But because life is full of fun and fuckery, I have make up work from a class that I'm in danger of failing (dropping), regular homework, and a big speech due on Tuesday that I wanted to dedicate this weekend to. And did I?

Kinda.
...a little.
Whatever. :-\

Guess who managed to get most of the make-up work done? Me. Even went to Starbucks so I could concentrate on my studies. Yes, I was McNerdyPants in the corner with my nose all up in my textbook on a Saturday night while wine was flowing freely on the homefront. That's dedication y'all. I sacrificed! And I even got a Soy Green Tea Latte on the house for the McNerdyPantsishness. (I'd like to take this parenthesis to give a shoutout to the Universe for freeness of latte. I'm digging the generousity Universe, keep it coming. Hugs <3)

When I got home I bullshitted with my [drunken] Aunt and Mom and read my speech to them. It actually held their attention, so I'm thinking I'm on the right track. I'm pretty sure it's a good sign that I held two drunkanauts attention for 10 minutes without them... drunkanauting around.

Lina McNerdyPants - 2, Fuckery - 0.

So that's Saturday night. First half, I'm up 2 the Fuckery ain't got nuthin...until the last few seconds of the half and DUNK! That would be my iPhone taking a dip in the toilet. Back pocket dive, and the Fuckery hath it's foot in the door. The worst part was... I was completely sober. Where you at my wine scapegoat?!

The second half (Sunday) began with a brain dead phone. Oh sure, it still was down to wake me up at my regular 8 o'clock alarm time because the Fun of Fuckery Committee was sure to ensure the screen was shot to shit & not allow me to turn it off. Fuckery indeed. But there is a natural balance in life and the Universe made sure that there were Mimosas flowing before 10 am. My consumption of The Bubbly is what partially revived my iphone screen. I'm sure of it. It's at dim now. All half blind with astigmatisms but I'll take. Hang in there 3GS and COME ON IPHONE 5!!

And you wanna know what else The Bubbly did for me? Of course you do! Let me tell you! I got my taxes done and am getting money back! (More shoutouts to the Universe! You keep doing your HappyPants Dance my way! The freeness of things! The bank account deposits! Yes pah-leez!)

The Bubbly is what dreams are made of you guys. True story.

Of course, I got no schoolwork done today but... there was champagne and my favorite Uncle so... Stalemate. There was lots of visiting with the Fam Bam today. Why, oh why is it that I get so uncomfishly self conscious after all is said and done? It's the Fuckery of the Mind is what it is. Nobody shunned me as I spoke (not even when I bitched about politics), they laughed when I sassed, and there were no bad vibery happening... and yet, Fuckery of the Mind pops in all uninvited talking all kinds of negativity.

It says that the fam bam only tolerates me, and doesn't genuinely like me for me, only because of familial obligation. Blood. The Mind of Fuckery says I'm not fun or interesting to converse with... and so Fuckery forth. When the house is empty and I retire to my bed these thoughts of Mind Fuckery plague me. My mom adores me, she thinks I do well in social situations. She says that I come off as confident and self assured, that the Fam Bam likes it when I'm around. But I has doubts. Mind of Fuckery tells me I talked to much. Thumbs down to Chatty Pattyness. Mom disagrees, she loves it and is convinced (I'm convinced she convinces herself) that the fam bam loves the Chatty Pattyness too. Why is there a disconnect there? Why am I unable to believe what she is saying? My boss even pulled me in his office on Friday saying how well that I fit in with everybody and that he hears our banter and that I hold my own with the guys. But still, a disconnect. Why am I having a hard time accepting this? Believing it?

Mind Fuckery.

Fuckery of the Mind.

I need a Excorcism of these Fuckerish Demons that ail me. (I'm hoping the process includes champagne! *fingers crossed*)

There were more Fuckerishness going on this weekend by way of NomVoms and flakery with friends and simple things like laundry that I neglected. While I cannot say that I succeed this weekend, I cannot say that I failed either. It's a stalemate. Fuck it; I'll take it. There's room for growth and the Universe is snowballing in some good directions. I'm still hopeful for 2011. Cheers!

Yoga and Letters

This semester Yoga is one of my classes; and Yoga, I'm discovering, is the Bee's Knees. After my yoga class I usually feel all clear minded and limber. Somedays I walk in all Jam Packed 5 o'clock Traffic and by "Namaste" I'm 4am freeways; traffic free! Green lights baby, yeah! But all good things come to an end. And though there is still another half of a semester to go, I want MORE! MAWR!

I have a membership at L.A. Fitness and I've been trying to catch classes. Trying! 5 o'clock traffic and whatnot (and by "5 o'clock traffic" I mean the "snooze" button). So far I've tried out 3 different instructors and only like 1. Good News, right? Of course not. Turns out she was subbing in that day and normally instructs at a gym 30 minutes away. Me and my car get plenty quality time as it is. Well, I'm not quite sure my car would use the term "quality" since I like the radio volume high and try to top it; tone deaf style. So I continue my search for a Yoga Instructor that I like, or even a half decent one. A yoga instructor for people who don't get Early Bird Discounts at Denny's. No bueno, que no? 

I need a challenge. I like challenges. Challenge me. I dare you. *left eye twitch* 

Such was the attitude I carried on Wednesday. Thank you Mother Nature, hate mail is already marked for postage. It's a good thing by Friday I was all HappyCakes! I like the HappyCakes 'Tude.

Dear Universe, Oh, Universe so dear. More HappyCakes days. MAWR! Love, Me. And love me long time! ;) 

There is still a class at the LA Fitness by my work that I'm trying to catch. I hope the class/instructor is awesomesauce! And I checked out a book on yoga from the library so I can read up and get the most out of my yoga! Hell, maybe I'll even teach my own damn class! I do need the extra dinero.

Dear Universe, Oh, Universe that is so dear. Have you lost weight? You look great, no really, that's a lovely shade of sky you've got going there. I want to thank you for the job, getting paychecks is definitely lovely. Making DEPOSITS in the bank agrees with me. I'd just like to say good job, and lets snowball this bitch with the dividends! ♪ Don't you know I need that money in the bank! ♬ Remember, $NOWBALL! Keep up the good work, I know there is more where it came from. <3 Me.

I'm off now, I've got to listen to a break up story, finish stat homework, load in the laundry and prepare my lunches for the week because my gas is eating it.

Dear Greedy Gas MuthaFuckers. Stop being obnoxious and lower prices. You're shitting on our economy and wiping with the bills we spend on your crack. I'm tired of crying into my receipts, they are not tissue soft. Hatin' You, Me.

I was going good on the No Vom Lent Thang and then today happened. Vom City USA y'all. Not cool. It's a good thing I'm not a church goer cuz me the moles*ahem* man in the booth would be having some words and then I'd end up on my knees.

Praying. Hailing Mary and whatnot? Whatever. I'm not a church goer. I know not of these church going things. (You dirty girls... admit it, you mind fell to the gutter! And in church talk no less! 4 Hail Marys!)

Apparently my blog has not attracted a Genius Quantum Physics Genius* for the Time Machine I have been requesting so there will be no time travel for this lil lady. Ergo, I'm movin on... since it's My Lent Rules then My Lent Rules are that today never happened and the NON Vom Show will go on! Tomorrow and through the rest of Lent. It's unfortunate that the scale is not under my Ruling Power cuz that mother fucker. That mother fucker over there. In the bathroom. All scale-like. Tryin play all innocent dressed in white?! Yeah. That mother fucker is about to hurt my fucking  feelings tomorrow morning by reminding me of todays mishaps. Jerk.

*le sigh* It is what it is. And what's done is done.

On that note, back to the past and reflection. My emotions are out of sorts. I hate this ED (groundbreaking, I know). I'm trying really hard to be normal and push the thoughts away and think new Pretty Pretty Princess thoughts full of confidence and champagne (if you are new here, champagne is what dreams are made of, ergo, it is associated with all things good). The ED voice totes turns my Champagne to like... moonshine or something. Moonshine sounds okay in theory, "yay drunkedness!" and then it tastes awful, burns your insides, ruins your make-up (teary eyes), and you wake up the next day feeling like roadkill on the 405 fwy at 5 o'clock happened to you yesterday (just go with it, don't reread. Moonshines makes no sense either).

But Champagne, Champagne is what dreams are made of and Champagne needs to be what my LIFE is made of DAMNIT! So tomorrow I'm back in the Lent Lane. Tomorrow exercise will happen! And it will happen to ME! And overall healthiness and good champagne-like things...  it's not gonna be easy but by-golly shits gotta get done! I need to lose weight. I need to do it in a healthy manner. 

Oh yeah. And homework. Homework needs to get done too. And apparently, it doesn't do itself and then download into my brain like a handy dandy little iPhone App. Genius Medical Geniuses, get on that.

*How am I not attracting Genius Quantum Physics Geniuses to my blog?! These people need to get their priorities straight. Clearly.

Gimmicks and Gumption

Did I say "mark my words?" Because what I meant was "Mark my words starting Wednesday." Skipping class today for no good reason. My room is a mess. I need to do laundry. I need to do homework. And I've done nothing. Well, I'm writing this post right now, so I'm going to count it as something so the list of To Do's are not completely unchecked.

So then. STARTING WEDNESDAY! things are gonna happen. Good things. And they are going to continue happening for the next 40 days. Lent is on the horizon and I'm jumping on that Catholic Bandwagon! Just the lent part though, because I need a gimmick to get myself motivated. (Don't judge. Gimmicks are fun!) So I've decided to give up the processed shit and vomming.

I'm ambitious.

By processed foods I'm not including some of the healthier staples in my diet such as nonfat greek yogurt and other nonfat dairy products, tempeh and tofu. Also, Kind Bars and Lårabars will be acceptable. So basically the Lent Allowed Foods are.... Veggies, fruits, seeds and nuts, eggs, nonfat dairy, tofu, tempeh, quinoa, oats and the aforementioned exceptions. And no vomming anything.


This will definitely be challenging, I'm not gonna lie. I can't even fake that this will be easy, it's definitely doable but ooohhhmuhgawd so not gonna be easy. These past two weeks have been the worst of the 2011 and I've got to do something to get my Twenty Eleven Mojo Back!

It's not going to be easy but I must. There is Ferret Status to be had and, bygolly, I will have it.

40 days start tomorrow.

Gotsta MAKE the Present a Gift!

It has not been a good week. But tomorrow TOMORROW! I will get the ball going on a spectaculwesome week! Full of success and the Fail count will be nil. Mark my words ladies! (But just for the week. I'll have new spectaculawesome words for the following week.) March is gonna be good. I'm getting the Badness out in Week One.

Aside from the Ed Fail of this past week. There was some news. Good news of the ka-ching persuasion. I started my job on Monday! Yay! (*spazzy dance*) So far, so good. They made me feel very welcome and comfortable. There is an added comfort that a friend of a friend is who got me the job and who I work with. Can you believe it's been 2 years since I've worked? Yeah, it's pathetic but now Unemployed Status is in the past and Present Status is EMPLOYED! And EMPLOYED means paychecks! And Paychecks mean iPad 2 and iPhone 5!

Just kidding.

Kinda.

I'm trying to tell the Apple Addict in me that it's irresponsible and I don't *NEED* either, but... I'm an addict. An addict with a paycheck. Maybe when I get to 120? Oh wow, 120 is not even light. How far I've climbed the scale :( But if you'll remember there are words that will be action and action that will be weightloss!

It's so easy to get stuck in Sadpants Mode & dwelling on the ever present and oh so unwelcomed fat. Too easy. The only way to create a future is to work on it in the present! So I gotta go now and prepare for a week of Spectaculawesomeness! Starting with a load in the wash and a workout. Join me ladies!

Creating Futures NOW!!!

Ready GO!

Didn't go? oh well... you're still creating a future, I hope it's one you will like when that future is now.

Not Getting Along with The Universe Today

Today. Today was not a good day. So oh oh. So oh oh. Not funktified.

*deep breathe*

*throat clear*

[cue: Rant!]

What are teachers? Teachers are to teach, yes? And students to learn? I've heard many of my college professors describe themselves as Facilitators of Knowledge. I fully support that description. Those are the teachers that want to gi gi gi give it all they've got gi give it all they got. And I will say that it is the students responsibility to learn. They've got to make a way to turn their brains into a sponge, a ShamWow! and soak it all up! And then put it back into the cup and give it to someone else. (Have you seen that infomercial? Soda back in the cup? Makes me kinda not ever want to accept a drink from those Shammy people....unless it's a martini. The alcohol kills all the germs, my mommy said so.) I digress.

Responsibility of teacher: facilitate some knowledge.
Responsibility of student: learn it!

School is not a game show. The class room is not Jeopardy! We're here to learn, not be thrown a bunch of Jigsaw Trickery Word Play, to trivialize and play against opponents. I don't believe it is conducive to learning when by the end of a test question our eyebrows are furrowed, whine/grunts are heard, and heads are cocked like Scooby Doo. Trickery! A test written to confuse the taker is just mean; that's a teacher who does not want students to succeed. Just to be clear, it wasn't the material that was confusing (not that it's simple) it was the wording of the questions. My teacher is taking over the class from another and is using her tests and even he had to read the questions and answers several times and this is simple to him!

AND THEN. The lab follows. I have two bones to pick (what does that even mean?) about this hour and a half of frustration. First, I don't know what the hell I'm doing on most of these labs. I don't like not knowing what I'm doing, and I'm behind on the labs. Really, this is probably my fault. But forget I said that because I'm perfect. Right? Right. (Just go with it.) Secondly, my lab partners suck in the lab doing department. They spent 90% of the time complaining, 10% labbing/copying/chatting. (remember, I'm perfect so I never complain.) (the contents of that last parenthesis is utter bullshit, but at least I'm aware enough to see when I'm complaining and cut that shit out!)

Already frustrated and hellbent on catching up and getting these labs done, I was ready to get down to bidnaz. Labmates? notsomuch. I mean they say they'd like to catch up but then.... no dice. They just sit there waiting for their lab to write itself. I had a difficult time keeping my frustration at bay. I finally said, "I know this does suck. But we're here so let's just do what we can. Talking about how mad it makes us only makes us madder." I'm a Georgia Peach what can I say. More like a prune to work with today. I tried to be nice and tolerant but we were all frustrated. I suck at hiding mine. Sorry people around me :/ I'll work on it.

Then I Nommed and skipped my last class and Nommed summore, vommed too. I chatted with my mom and she hurt my feelings and I lashed out at her when she was on the phone with my aunt. It was lame reason too. My Sis is having a girl, she suggested a name (one that I've been pushing too) and then I suggested another that I like too. In fact, me and my friend we're chatting about these 2 names last night and how we both really liked them (she's preggo too). My mom did not like my name. "Ew, [insert name here]! That is not cute. No. What'd you say, [says the name wrong]?" All poochie faced. I say the name correctly and the apparently there is a smell to the name and it got worse because her face puckered more. "Yeah, that's not cute. No. I like [name#1]." And I got all pissed off and thanked her for making me feel like shit. And she came back with "well you didn't like MY name!" Um....when did I ever express any dislike for her suggested name? Not never, that's when! I merely threw out another suggestion. I would have bit my tongue if I would have known how negatively she would act towards it. It's not like I suggested Ogre or Facebook! (Some dude in Egypt named his girl Facebook because FB started the revolution....smh.)

Sensitive much?

(Careful, I'll RIP YOUR HEAD OFF!!! RAWRRR!!!!)

Hugz if you made it this far into the post! ilu<3

'I'm Basically Boring' Box

I'm always so critical and frankly, embarrassed of who, what, where, and how I am. I had a project in my public speaking class where we had to make an "All About Me" box where we decorate a box and use adjectives as to what makes up each of us. On the outside is the superficial and on the inside is the personal. Working on my box I felt anxious and embarrassed by it. I feel exposed. On Thursday when everybody had their boxes...mine is vague. While others had all their favorite books, TV shows, brand names, ambitions, past, present, future....I had simply decorated adjectives.


 As you can plainly see, I'm Plain Jane. While I'm think that I'm feeling uncomfortable put out there, in relation to the rest of the class, I am withholding. People got deep. People that you would not guess had much depth, put themselves out there and shared some private things about themselves that I could only imagine sharing with only a select few, and here they were sharing with a class of strangers. Some even got choked up.

It did not occur to me to share this type of information with the class. Just goes to show how reserved I am. Even superficial information about specific books I like. How Google is my Go-To-Guy, it never occurred to share this information with people because it never occurred to me that I could associate these things with myself.

Upon seeing all the different boxes, with all their brand names and random things that they like cut and pasted from magazines or printouts (collage style), I was embarrassed of mine. Looking at my box, could you start a conversation with me? Could you know me better in some way? Probably not. What do you get out of it? That I am not interesting. That I have almost no personality. That I am withholding.

It's a speech class, so we must talk about our box for 5-7 minutes. I could relate to each and ever person in some way. Something on their box was something that I thought, "hey! I could have put that on my box!" And now it's too late, on Thursday it's my turn to start talking about my Plain Jane Box.. and I'm mortified by my...lack of substance? Or things? Or something! I feel like I'm cheating them. Like they've opened up and shared very personal and specific things and I'm so vague and reserved.

Projects like this are so interesting to me. When I hear all about these people it makes me like them because I see that we have a few things in common and that they've got some admirable traits as shown through stories of hardship. Each of us in the class are so different and yet we are so the same. They all have interests, passions, and were hurt in one way or the other, the specifics differ but when judgement is thrown out the door it's hard to not like that person. Listening to each person speak about their superficial interests and they're personal things made me like each and every one of them. I'm afraid that when I present nobody will feel that way about me. I don't know how to open up enough for that.

I am so afraid of being judged (an irrational fear because hellowe! it's inevitable) and yet I judge. Mostly my family and people at the grocery store based on the food in their basket. I started this blog so that I can be free of judgement, it is why I've never posted picture of myself (face or body).

As honest as I am on this blog, even it is vague. I speak about thoughts and feelings but I don't incorporate the fact that I was up late reading a Dan Brown novel or just checked out a couple Don Miguel Ruiz books because my yoga teacher recommended them. Do you know that I wear glasses? Or that my primary new sources lately are from Bill Mahar and Chelsea Handler? My favorite smell is vanilla? If we were to hang out what do we  have in common aside from our ED? What would we talk about?

How about I NOT drink a bottle of wine and then blog, yes?

Pumped to Popped to Pumped again... Let's Hamsterwheel.

I was so determined to lose a couple pounds this week by being super duper healthy and keeping it low low low low low low.

(Cheater. Go back and read ALL the lows. Don't worry I'll wait.)

...

 I was pumped! But come Monday I popped. Apparently I was too pumped and then I went around a sharp object or sharp thought or something and POP! NomVom. And again today. And tomorrow I'll keep it alright because I'll be at school all the dilly day long but then it's Friday again and I don't really know where I'm going with this but it doesn't feel hopeful. Which is not hopeful. And the glass of hope is half empty; And that's not hopeful, so I shake my fists to the ceiling, "TO HELL YOU!" I shout and punched the cup over so it's empty!* EMPTY! No more hope! Out with the hope!

But y'know what? I like fresh starts. So then I'll just start a fresh glass of hope and be hopeful that tomorrow and Friday and the days that follow the Glass of Hope will not waver! It will not dissipate! It will be full! So full of full that it will be like, "whoa man, this fullage is fulltastic." And then go into Phullanthropy and start filling other glasses until they're full and have lots of fulltastic fullgasms!

I could totes be a motivational speaker. Mad skills with speakage of the motivational flavah.

Too good, maybe. That glass is kind of intimidating now.... how's about I just know that tomorrow I'll be alright? Yeah, I think that plan sounds better. Tomorrow will be good. And that's it. And that's all.

(For now. I'm still lookin' atchew Ferret Status.)

*Disclaimer: No actual cups were hurt, broken, or psychology disturbed during the writing of this blog.

Honest sCrap Ahead

I got an award! Harlow gave it to me! WOOT! WOOT! 

(proof! I really did, I'm just Making Stuff Up to Boost My Ego)

As the image suggest this blog is most deffo Honest! Honest to Ugly...hence the name (which I've been brainstorming of what to change it to...). Apparently some people thought I was a Trailer Trash Snaggle Tooth White Girl With a Peg Leg with 13 asses and chins cuz my truth is so ugly. I'm working on trying to pretty it up for y'all by doing the whole Life Thang and trying to get away from the whole Self Destructive Thang.

Anywho.

Here are 5 more Honesty blogs:

1. Harlow (I know she's the one who nominated me but like...whatever, she's awesome, follow her! I especially like her blog because she makes effort towards getting thin in a mostly healthy manner, she exercises and doesn't just try and survive on licorice and saltines, she knows the value of a vegetable!)
2. Kazehana (Her blog is private and I'm like VIP list Status cuz she's my Wifey B. AwesomeSauce. AND she's already been given the award by someone else which may or may not be against the Honest Scrap Rules but ...whatever! She wins cuz she's Tells It Like It Is!)
3. Sar (She doesn't sugar coat shit either, ups and downs alike, if it happens, she delivers!)
4. Quinn (So honest sometimes I read through my fingers.)
5. Ophelia (Also received this award but what can I say? When you tell you tell it ALL!)

10 Random Things About Me:

1. I am a lover of all vegetables except corn. In truth, I HATE IT!!
2. The ceiling in my room is painted black (and I like it).
3. I'm a drafter.
4. My favorite color is red.
5. I wish I could turn water into wine (or better: CHAMPAGNE!) (and calorie free!)
6. I'm trying to learn more/be interested about politics by watching Real Time with Bill Maher. (Watch it, he's funny☺ and I'm not even smart/educated/informed enough [yet!] to even get ALL of his quips)
7. I love jewelry.
8. I'm an only child.
9. I google EVERYTHING I'm curious about. EV-VER-RY-THANG.
10. I need to be doing homework RIGHT. NOW.

Perseverence of The Hatey, by The Hatey, against The Hatey

As if it couldn't get any worse from the last post, oh it did. The following morning of that post I was greeted by Aunt Flo. So now I've got lesions on my face, continuous Flo, hormones jumping all over the Globe of Emo's, stretching in stretchy pants in front of a mirror with more than 20 others, and a mini speech. My Thursday was No Bueno Shit. Of course, I mustered through it all cuz I'm all about Gettin' Shit  Done-TwentyEleven Styley but damn.

So then was Friday and yesterday and today of the Noms and the Voms... and the Flo, and the lesions, and sadpants getting fatter... Rough week, yes?

As Sadtastic as this lovely week has been, the universe has denied me request of time and the world to stop, which means I better try and crawl out of my cave or turmoil and take some [achey] steps towards Operation: Ferret, Mission: Income, and doing homework. This next week won't be easy with the set backs of last week still present along with the damage of the NomVoms (btw, I totes stole this terminology from kazehana).

Tomorrow the Blood Type Diet Commences (a diet my hairdresser swears by), along with the week 1 diet of BBG (since I've mucked it up so badly). I'm not 100% sure that my blood type is A, but I think it is and I'm just gonna go with it cuz it's too much trouble to figure out what it is in a budget friendly fashion. I can see how people aren't so jazzed about this diet, it cuts out many foods. But I'm focusing on what I do have to work with! Cuz putting energy in negativity is counterproductive (Exhibit A: what this past week has done to me) and I've got my eyes on the prize. Ferret Bod here I come gawddamnit!

And the other stuff will follow. I notice that when I'm eating a healthy (and low calorie) diet I feel more inclined to exercise, and then I feel more incline to get dressed and do stuff. Even if it's homework or laundry, I just have more motivation to start checking things off my to do list (I'm a virgo-I have lists upon lists that are endless). I also feel less cravey and vomming actually sounds a bit ridiculous and wasteful of my time. So, basically....Healthy = Good. Groundbreaking, right?! First step always seems to take the most effort. *le sigh*

Hate Everything!

I'm feeling very hatey at the mo. Exhibit A: The title of this post. Exhibit B: The herpes on my face. It pains me to say "herpes" more than it does bulimic. For those of you who are not in the Herpes Know let me fill you in on a couple things. First off, I hate you; because I'm feeling hatey (see: first sentence) and I'm insanely jealous of you. Secondly, herpes is not strictly caught through doing Inappropriate Things with Strangers. The Inappropriate Things with Strangers Type is typically found in the Nether Regions of the bod.

If I had the Inappropriate Things Type in my Nether Regions I wouldn't make a post about it, I'd be too busy crying. For me Unlucky began in childhood. I've gotten fever blisters since before I knew or cared how babies where made back when boys had cooties. And every time I get an outbreak I shake my fists at the Universe and slew an endless stream of derogative words! And then I say, "I'msorryIdidn'tmeanit. JUSTMAKETHEMGOAWAY!" I want the time to stop and the world to stop turning and hide under my blankey (yes, I still have one. Don't judge.) and cry and cry and cry until the hideousness disappears off my face.

I'm Nerdcore so when I have an issue I do research. Well, I'm Nerdcore to the power of Lazy and I googled that ish. Turns out most all the foods I've been eating are the loser in the Lysine vs. Arginine challenge. I'm suppose to be eating foods that have more Lysine and I'm doing the opposite. So now, I've got to revise the diet that felt so right. And by revise I mean take a Lysine supplement and see if that helps because I'm lazy and revising my diet would be effortey.

I am so sadpants right now. I have school tomorrow, a mini speech in Public Speaking Class and I have yoga. In all my sadpantsness I nommed and vommed. Which makes my pants even sadder. I wanted to vom more but my mom came home and the Hideousness on my mouth was getting irritated so I stopped. I want to take some lax tea so I can at least get empty but I have yoga tomorrow and.... if the lax should have bad timing.... well, best to just not risk it. Such a slap in the face, I've gotten nothing done productive since I felt it.

Caution: Speed Bump

NomVom happened last night. I think I did a good job on the Vom and the Nom was pretty healthy. Though it is bad, on a scale of bad to baddest the incident was low scoring. This morning I was .5 pounds more than the previous 2 days but what-the-fuck ever cuz today I'm back on my game, back on my Mission: Ferret Mentality and that .5 is likely water & shit. (Whoa, potty mouth much?) (Get it?! Potty Mouth?! Vom night?! At least give me a smirk.)

The Good Vibes you ladies sent me for school is fant-awesome-tastic! Because I got into all of my classes! School has commenced and and the line up of classes includes yoga! While the notion of contorting my body in various poses in spandex and in front of a large mirror with a sprinkle of tiny girls in the class is not so appealing (the comparison in that gargantuan mirror is most repulsive), the idea of centering, calming, stretching, and building lean muscle has me looking forward to the semester. Plus, I'm on my way to Super Ferret Status, so girls in the class are gonna be like "dai-yum! I want a bod like that!" in their minds when they're suppose to be concentrated on breathing causing them to fall over and I'll laugh because when people fall it's funny.

On a side note: Spin Pins work.

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming....

Keep GVing me! (Kinda sounds inappropriate, huh?) I need two classes AND income! There getting closer, hopefully closing in on me tomorrow and by next week in the bag! And the next week I will TAKE OVER THE WORLD!!! MUAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!

*ahem*

Let's just focus on this week, shall we? We shall. Still working the BBG. Tuesday was tough and 'spensive. Healthy eating on-the-go and my PoorGirlsBudget do not get along even at Trader Joe's. My meals were....creative. Thanks to the few healthy blogs I follow, I scrounged up were not necessarily delicious-but palatable meals that were healthy. I stayed under 900 cals but it was not all sunshine and champagne walks in the park. Getting an adequate amount of sleep really helps keep the appetite in check; and an adequate amount of sleep I did not have. And again today.

My body is trying to adjust to the new sleep schedule [for school], the lack of calories [that I get from NomVoms], not NomVomming, and the healthy diet [sans processed food, artificial sweetener, added salt or caffeine] which BBG considers a light detox/cleanse. I'm determined to get through this adjustment period unscathed. Well...aside from the Fuckery that is happening in the Mental Quarters.

I was so ready to NomVom today. What's stopping me, you ask? (Just go with it, you know the drill.) First of all a NomVom would throw off the accuracy to which I have been maintaining my BBG logs, my food scale is getting much love. I didn't want to screw up the detox-ish thing I've got going. It would mean starting from square one, and getting to square 5 took...well 5 days. I'm so over failing (OVERIT!). Also, Kazehana text me and kept me from stepping into The Mist (not fog, it wasn't bout to get kraz-e, just caloric).

2011 is about this new thing called "success" (don't worry, I had to look it up in the dictionary too). I want to and I will take steps towards my goals. For too long I have been either stagnant or backwards (I'm counting 1 step forward & 2 steps back as 'backwards'). I am determined for RESULTS! (Good ones.)

I was so upset this morning when I stepped on the scale and it read a pound more than yesterday. Since I've begun the BBG (on Saturday) I have not gone about 900 calories. I have also not gone, taking that into consideration along with my crazytown sodium intake of yesterday, I'm thinking I'm a pound heavier of shit and water. I'm sipping on tea and went today so hopefully the scale will not corroborate yesterdays nasty numbers today. (I like how I blame the scale and not me, my body, and my bullshit actions.)

Tomorrow is another day of all day class. Good Vibe me! <3

Healthy on the Inside. Kinda.

Why, oh why do I get cold sores and/or fever blisters when I begin something? sldcknvzfuwbjuv!!! Knowhatamsayin'?! And this is happening when I'm trying to be all Goody-goody Get-Skinny! I'm on day 3 of Body By Glamour [with The Fab Kazehana] and feeling good (aside from the monstrosity that has set up shop on my mouth). I really thought that taking out the artificial sweeteners and adding salt was going to be The Death Of Me. But I'm here typin' alive and strivin'. I have more energy and am in a better state of mind. Strange. This 'health' thing. I think Mother Earth is onto something!

Mother Earth and society are not on the greatest of terms tho because tomorrow is gonna be hard. I start school tomorrow and will be away from home from 7:30 to 10:30. That's AM to PM y'all! Packaged food is a no-no, and I don't really do fast food anyway. And it's not like my school supplies me with a fridge or microwave for my brown bagged lunch! The plan is a healthy and satisfying breakfast (like the one I had this morning) and then hit up Trader Joe's for a late lunch/dinner.

Fact: Trader Joe's is The Spot.

Also, I may have a part-time job! It's a commute but I'll take what I can get for some extra bucks. My bank account is like a no tooth, patched eye pirate with a peg leg–no parrot or pocket thief of a monkey cuz he pawned them bitches. Mr. Pirate is about to sell the pegleg and the liver if I don't get some income soon! YOU KNOW how much a pirate needs his liver, Rum is crucial for the survival of a pirate. We'll see. (Good Vibe me please! kthnx. ilu <3)

(oh yeah, and Good Vibe me for getting all my classes tomorrow! kthatsall. *hugz*)

(Unless you want to GV me for some Neighbor Boy? For extra cred? No? Okayfine. I'll take what I can get.)

Gotta get Ready, Set, Go! for my day tomorrow.

Slacker slash Productive, I does it.

I've been totes Slacker Status on the Gym Tip. It all started one bingey day and continued to today but will hopefully come to an end tomorrow. On the bright side, my room is really coming along (NYres2010). Amazing what a couple of pieces of furniture will do to help spruce up and organize my ity bity closet of a room. What's even more amazing, even Amazeballs, if you will, is the fact that I single handedly put together and move around these pieces of furniture AND (oh yes Friends, there is an "AND") I've even worked the power drill! (Go ahead and think it, I am awesome like that.)

In the way of food. Well. The NomVoms are certainly rearing their ugly 8 Headed FrogDragon self into 2011. However, 2011 is different in that I'm actually trying to be better. (Go me!) (Yes, I cheer myself on. Don't judge.) On the days that I don't NomVom I try and keep the cals in the 500s. Last year even a day of this seemed impossible, this year? This Year!? THIS YEAR(!) Shit Is Happening! Changes are being made! Saluté to 2011! Eleven is a Magical Number.

I'm looking forward to more Getting Shit Done for this weekend. In my room, at the gym, and away from the kitchen, now that my room actually resembles a closet used as a room, as opposed to a closet of a person who hates doing laundry and shoves all her earthly possessions in, I am finding it easier to stick my nose in a book and not in the kitchen cupboards. I'm even watching my tiny TV and sitting at my desk to blog. (Yes folks, this is Big News. Don't you doubt it for a second! I'm a Truth Teller and I Tell The Truth.)

Next week school starts. I'm on some waitlists, pray, chant, do a little dance, make a little love....however you do, vibe me, y'all!!

Looking Ahead

Today went better than expected. (For me, not my bank account.) I am taking steps towards a New Years Resolution that I had made last year and forgot to make this year (go ahead, call me Little Miss Procrastination-getting shit done is Getting Shit Done!).

I went to Ikea today. That and Michaels are heaven to This(!) creative girl! The plan in my head was to scope out the scene, get a few little organizer things and order Though Through Things online. But then I was headed to the check out line and I huffed out my chest like a rooster and crowed, "FUCK IT! Shit is goin' down TADAY! The time is NOW!" Sadly, the Vicky Secrets bra was not the decision I made this morning to support the girls so for the follow hour I fought with Heavy Ass Boxes, gave evil eyes to men passing by, and shook my fist at the sky and blamed the Gawds for my impulsive Git 'er Done attitude. (Surely, I am not to be blamed for such things.) I even worked up a sweat! Which is a win in my book cuz at the end of the day I am one step closer to getting my room together.

Now I just have to get my stuff put together....Heaven Help Me!!! Wine Be With Me!!!

3rd day is a....char

broiled BITCH! Started of just fine and then went down the toilet. Only on the 3rd day and I go and NomVom. Curse the curse-ed Noms! I can't hate on the Vom too bad tho, it is saving my ass from outgrowing my jeans. But oh well, hiccups happen and I'm moving on with Mission: Ferret.

Bouncing back y'all! I'm gonna do it.

Fat Pants No More!!! Eyes on the Prized Ferret Body!

Massa Scale, I am yowe grasshoppa

January 1st of twenty eleven is now guys. NOAW! And I gots the Determination Bug! And a You'reafuckingfatassgetoffyourassgettothegymandstaythefuckawayfromfood Virus. How do I get infest with such viciousness you ask? (Just go with it, ask.) Answer: I stepped on the scale.

I have been avoiding those red digits of truth for...a long ass time. And just like that I was it's bitch again. All day these numbers have haunted my psyche. (Okay, it's only 1:30pm and I got up at 10:50am. WHATEVER! THE SCALE IS FUCKING WITH ME HARDCORE!) And I'm not talking Casper the Friendly Ghost here. I'm talkin' Pet Semetary ish, the dude with the gashed in head and globs of Ghostbuster ghosts trying to attack me and take over my body I so much as think in the general direction of the kitchen. I hid under my blankets for a good half hour, afraid the Fat Monsters were gonna get me.

But they already have! It swallowed me up in 2010 and then threw me up in 2011. It's time to get all Janitor up in this bitch and clean up house. Fortunately for me I got the handy dandy gym pass to help me out in Operation: Fat Sucker and also aiding me in Mission: Ferret.

I am truly heartbroken about the Truth Digits but y'know what? It's time to face up and do something about it. All the heartbreak needs to go into the Determination Bug! (I need to find a new term for that....cuz like I want to be a Determination Bug Monster but like...not.) AND! It could have been worse. I wasn't too bad last night. I was like....a normalish person. No bingeing on food or drink. Can you imagine the NomVommery that would be in full force swing right now like a hurricanic tornado tsunami beast if I was hungover, remorseful, and cravey?! Oh the horror! THA WHORRRRAH!!!!

2011: All food goes documented and counted. Exercise happens everyday! Daily weigh ins.

"Not all that is faced can be changed, but nothing can change until it is faced."