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.