Category Archives: Life

Every post that isn’t about the Office or Writing.

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January 16, 2020

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Life, Random

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Lord, I Was Born a Ramblin’ Womaaaaaaan

What is this place? Is this some kind of blog or something? I have no memory of such things.

Listen here, I have a lot going on in my life and just about nobody reads my dang blog anyway. So that’s my whole excuse right there.

So what have I been up to since April?? Well, honestly, not a lot. I did do some traveling, though, and since that almost never happens, I felt it was a good idea to document it briefly in a blog. (I say “briefly” because I could write a lot more, but I didn’t. Even still, ’tis not brief.)

In October, I got to go to London with my aunt and cousins. It was my first time being there, of course, and it was amazing. It was so cool to be in the city that is the setting of so many books I’ve read. Also I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many fancy cars in all my life. I think just everyone in London drives a Bentley.

I got to experience the classic afternoon tea at Fortnum & Mason’s which was delicious. That place has about fifty floors. Okay, so it’s more like five, but still, that’s a lot, okay? You know I bought a nice selection of loose leaf to bring home. I don’t remember when I made the transition to loose leaf, but it’s amazing what a difference it makes. At the tea, we each had our own pot, so they did it the traditional way, which involves just putting the leaves straight in the pot to brew. So when you pour it, you have to use a strainer that sits on top of the cup to catch the leaves. Normally, I use an infuser because I’m generally only making a mug of it, you know. So it was a fun experience.

Then we also went to the oldest bookstore in London, which is called Hatchard’s where I obtained a couple of books. I mean, tea and books, what more do you really need? I wandered around the store for quite a while before I finally landed on a book I knew nothing about. It was in the fantasy section, prominently displayed as though it was a famous book everybody knew about. EVERYBODY BUT ME, APPARENTLY. I’ve never seen this book on the shelves in any bookstore I’ve been to and I have spent hours haunting the fantasy section of bookstores. I don’t know if this is because I wasn’t looking for it, so I just didn’t notice it or if it’s just not as well known here. It was actually three books in one and together they are called Gormenghast by Mervyn Peake. I really feel like this oversight was my own fault somehow, but I swear on my life I’d never heard about this trilogy until I saw the behemoth sitting on the shelf at Hatchard’s. It caught my eye because it had such a cool cover. What can I say, I’m totally guilty of buying books just because they look pretty. But in this case, I actually looked it up before I purchased it. I was just going to buy the one book, but then I spotted a Haruki Murakami novel I didn’t have yet, so I grabbed it on my way out. I mean, was I really expecting myself to only buy one book? Laughable.

We also saw Hamilton, which was just as amazing as everyone says it is. I cried through the entire second act even though I already knew what was going to happen. This was not surprising to me because I always cry at plays/movies/concerts/weddings/commercials/moving Youtube videos/random Thursdays. It doesn’t take much is what I’m saying.

There were a lot of little quirky things that were just different because I was in London. Obviously everybody is driving on the other side of the road, which wasn’t as disorienting to me as the drivers sitting on the other side of the car. I mean, what is going on with that?

There were also those red telephone boxes everywhere. I wonder if they’re still around because they’re so iconic and people like to take pictures with them. I doubt many people use them for actually making phone calls anymore. Then again, we’ve still got a few pay phones around, so who knows?

And I really loved how soda came in a little glass bottle. It was so cute, I was like can we have these in the U.S., please? I just like cute things, okay. Also food-wise, I can now say I’ve had fish and chips in London. Twice, even! I also had pheasant, which was so good.

We went to Buckingham Palace, but they only do tours in the summer, so we just stood outside and took some selfies. We did get to go inside Kensington Palace, though. They had an exhibit about Queen Victoria, who lived at Kensington as a child. Guys, Queen Victoria was tiny. They had a few of her dresses on display, ones she wore as an adult woman and they looked like they were made for a little girl.

We also happened to be there when they were doing some historical vote about Brexit or something, which was cool because there were a lot of protesters. They were mostly just walking around with EU flags and shirts and stuff, but it was pretty neat to see.

I could carry on about London – we were only there for three days, but I saw so many things, I could probably write another several paragraphs.

In December, I went to Georgia to visit my sister for Christmas. It would have been great if we didn’t all get sick about halfway through the week. First I got a terrible cold and then I got double pink eye. I haven’t had pink eye since I was a little kid. Holy crap. My eyes were just producing pus like you wouldn’t believe. It was dripping down my face. And they got so swollen, I couldn’t open them all the way. It was terrifying because I looked like some kind of goblin. It was also annoying ’cause I had to wipe the gunk from my eyes every two seconds and even then I could still barely see. Needless to say, we went to an urgent care and they gave me some drops, which cleared things up in a couple of days. Thankfully!

However, it is now the middle of January and I am still coughing. I feel fine otherwise, but this cough just won’t go away. It’s terrible and annoying, especially at night when I’m trying to sleep, dang it!

It was really great to see my peeps, though. Georgia was nice and warm. I haven’t been in a warm place for Christmas since we lived in California. That was back in the nineties. So we’re talking like twenty something years, yo. Though December is supposed to be less humid than the summer, but my hair was still a massive ball of frizz. I basically kept it in a braid the entire time because it was just POOF.

Also, people in Georgia are super nice. When I went to the urgent care, the nurse and doctor felt so bad for me they kept saying “bless your heart”. And not in that way that implies they think you’re slow, but like a genuine expression of sympathy. It was adorable. I can’t tell you how many people just waved at us or said hello or just starting talking to us. I always get nervous around friendly people because they’re so nice and I love it, but I’m so awkward. I feel like it makes them think that I think they’re weird or something, but really I just think they’re great, which makes me more awkward. I know, I do it to myself by overthinking. Alas!

Anyway, I’m home now, obviously. Cleocatra spent an entire hour meowing at me when I got back from Georgia. It started as it always does, every day of my life, which is where she stands by the front door and when I come inside, she stands there and yells at me for a bit. I always say it’s like twenty minutes, but it’s really more like two. I thought she’d stop after the initial two minutes, but no. I went into my bedroom to unpack my stuff, so she followed me. She has a little bed that’s like a cave and she crawled into it so she could sit inside and meow at me from within. Just constant meows. I finished unpacking and went into the kitchen ’cause I was hungry. So I was microwaving some food and I could hear her, still in the bedroom in her bed cave, meowing. I wasn’t even in the room! I finally sat down on my bed and she emerged from her cave, meowing still. She finally stopped after she crawled into my lap. Then for the next few days, she would meow whenever I left the room, even if she followed me out of it. Like, okay, I’m not going anywhere, calm your buckets!

Now everything has settled down, mostly. Though I have Things going on, but I’ll write about that later. I feel like this blog is long enough as it is. Needless to say, I wish to travel some more when I can. It might be a bit, though, since I totally wiped out my PTO with all that traveling this year. Oops! I regret nothing.

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June 19, 2018

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Body Positivity, Life

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Body Positivity: Truth, Fear, & Judgment

I’ve written about being fat before. I was angry because I had only just learned that I don’t have to hate myself or my body for being fat. I was angry because I felt like the world had been feeding me lies for my entire life.

I’m still a little angry, but not as angry as I was. I want to talk about how body image is more than just “love your flaws”.

Here’s a question: why does it matter what our bodies look like? What is the function of our bodies? Our bodies do not exist for the viewing pleasure of other people. That is not why we have bodies. We have bodies because we need something to hold our souls and our minds. We need a vehicle to move through this world in. We don’t have bodies so they can look nice for people. I really think if that was the case, we would’ve been created with eyestalks so that we could look at ourselves easier. (Not that I think snails or crabs have eyestalks for this reason, but you get my drift.)

Here is something else: it is not easy to start loving something you have been taught to hate. You don’t just wake up one morning and say, “You know what? I love my fat! I love my acne! I love my crooked nose!” It doesn’t work like that. You have to be honest with yourself. These things are so ingrained in us, I think most of us don’t realize we’re even doing it.

The first step is realizing that you don’t have to hate your body. The first step is to realize that your body was designed to take care of you. And everything it does, it’s doing it because it’s trying to keep you alive. That’s what our bodies were made to do. They have programming left over from when food was hard to come by. Nowadays, food is everywhere if you live in America. But our bodies are still afraid of famine, so they hold onto it, just in case. They’re trying to protect us.

The second step is doing all those things that you’re afraid of. This goes for more than just body image, of course. If you don’t like the way you look in shorts, wear shorts. Wear the hell out of those shorts. And when it doesn’t kill you, when it actually makes you feel more comfortable in hot weather, when it makes you feel free, then you will have the confidence to do it again. You can’t build confidence by doing nothing or just by thinking about it. You have to do the thing you fear.

The third step is to stop judging. I see a lot of “who cares what other people think!” type of stuff and while that’s really a great sentiment, let’s be real. We obviously care. If we didn’t, it wouldn’t be an issue. The real problem is that other people are making judgments about you and most of the time, they are uninformed. Most of the time, they don’t even know your name. They look at you and they judge you based on appearance alone. And usually, their judgments come from a place of shame and fear.

So start with you. Don’t judge people. Easier said than done, right? We judge people instantly and this, too, is left over from our bodies not keeping up with our changing world. We’re made to do this kind of thing in order to survive. But you have to train yourself to stop. Because guess what? That fat girl standing a couple feet from you is not a threat. You don’t need to protect yourself from her, so there’s no reason to judge her at all.

I’ve been trying really hard to do this in many ways. I used to judge myself by saying, “Why can’t I do *this thing*? Everybody else has no problem doing *this thing*!” And then I’d stop and say, “Wait. How do I know that? Do I know everybody else? Do I know anything about how everybody else handles *this thing*? No.” Another situation I’ve been doing this with is in the car. When someone does something stupid, my instant reaction is, “Idiot! What a jerk!!” Then I stop and say, “Wait. I’ve done that totally by accident. That person probably didn’t mean to do it.”

Everybody makes mistakes. Ain’t nobody perfect. And I’m dang grateful for that ’cause how booooooring would we all be if we all had the same perfect bodies and lived the same perfect lives. SNORE.

In summary, your body is trying to keep you alive, do the things you fear, and stop judging peeps. Loving yourself is not easy. It’s not going to just click one day and then BAM SELF LOVE ALL OVER DA PLACE. It’s a journey. Just like everything else in life. So I’m gonna leave you with my favorite quote ever, from my favorite haiku poet:

“Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.” Matsuo Basho

Also here are some amazing body image related Ted Talks:

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May 10, 2018

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Books, General, Life, Office By Day

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Embrace the Audiobooks, Friends

Since absolutely nothing of interest happened At The Office this week, I decided I’m going to write about audiobooks instead. It’s related because I listen to them… at the office.

I happen to be blessed with a job that is mostly mindless. Since that is the case, I get to listen to stuff while I work. Sometimes I listen to music, but mostly I listen to audiobooks. Do you have any idea how many audiobooks I go through in a month? My best guess is an average of five.

As a Book Person, this fills me with joy.

I also listen to audiobooks when I’m crocheting. I listened to the Complete Sherlock Holmes while crocheting various things. It was like 58 hours and some change. Read by Simon Vance, who is one of my favorite audiobook narrators.

I’ve been listening to audiobooks at work for about six years. I’ve had this job for five years, but before that, I had a job where I could listen to audiobooks, too.

It used to be, back when I first started listening, that people would consider listening to an audiobook “cheating”. I was always cautious about telling other book people that I had listened to the audiobook of whatever book we were talking about. They either didn’t care or they considered it cheating. I would say that it is likely these people never actually listened to an audiobook. If they had, they would know there is no cheating involved. My mind is just as active, just as engaged with the story, sometimes even more so. When I read, I live the story. I see the settings and the characters. The same thing happens when I listen to an audiobook. So as far as I’m concerned, if you listened to the audiobook version of the latest bestseller, you have still read the book. It’s the same story, just received differently.

Nowadays, people don’t say that as much. At least not to me and not lately. So I’ve become less cautious about it. I think this is because online streaming has made audiobooks more accessible. You no longer have to carry around a million cassette tapes or a thousand CDs. All you need is your phone. Or a web browser.

I would actually describe myself as a poly-book-formatist. Yeah, okay, I obviously made that up, but what I’m trying to say is that I don’t limit myself to any one format. I listen to audiobooks, I buy books on my Kindle, and I have at least a couple hundred paper books on my shelves at home. I love them all.

I would recommend audiobooks to anybody. Since I get to listen to so many, it really helps me keep my love of reading and books alive while still working a full-time job. They make me laugh, they make me cry, they make me want to scream in frustration, just like all books do.

“But wait,” I hear you saying. “If you’re such a book person, why don’t you just read more?”

If you were real, I would slap you. Fool!

I work eight hours a day. When I get home, I write. Haven’t you been reading this blog at all?? I’m a writer! I can’t write and work at the same time! I only get to write at work when I have no work to do. That happens sometimes, but not very often.

The thing is, I do read at home. I read all the books I have that aren’t in audio format. It takes me a lot longer because I don’t get to read for four hours. At work, I get to listen to about four hours of audio each day between answering phone calls and sending out faxes. At home, I get maybe a half an hour – an hour tops – unless it’s the weekend.

This is because I write. I’m working on my dang novel, yo. The thing about writing while also having a full-time job is that it doesn’t leave you very much time to read. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make to work on my story. I’m just dang lucky that I can use audiobooks to offset that a little bit.

In conclusion, I love audiobooks, I recommend them to one and all, and if anybody says it’s cheating, I will be sure to inform them that they are wrong.

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March 22, 2018

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The Amazing Totally Cheap Miracle Cure!

Are you feeling down? Is life just not what you always thought it would be? Do you feel like there’s got to be some magic switch to make everything better?

GUESS WHAT THERE IS!

AND WE’RE GONNA SELL IT TO YOU FOR THE MEASLY SUM OF ONE TRILLION DOLLARS! YOU LUCKY DOG!

*cough cough*

Sorry, sorry. I got into Crazy Infomercial Announcer mode.

When you start to feel like you’re doing Life wrong, what do you do? You look for a Quick Fix. That’s just our culture. We want everything and we want it right the hell now.

Not too long ago, I was in that state of doubt. I wanted to know what I had to do to make all of my dreams come true. I mean, I was thirty already! Shouldn’t my dreams have come true by now? Clearly, I was living life wrong somehow. I needed to find the Mysterious Key that would unlock the Dreams Come True Achievement.

Since I don’t like talking to people, I turned to books because of course I did. What genre do you read to find the Cure? Self Help, naturally.

I was convinced it had something to do with how I was thinking. How does one think correctly?

As it turns out, all the Books had to tell me was that I should love myself. Easier said than done. Their suggestion for making myself love myself was affirmations. Basically, tell yourself you love yourself all the time every day until it’s true.

I’m sorry, but that mess just did not work for me.

It’s almost heartbreaking for me to admit that reading a book did not solve my problem.

Only now do I realize that reading books did not solve my problem because those books were not the Truth I was searching for.

Maybe those were the Truths some other people have sought. But not I. I was looking for something else. I was waiting for that AHA moment. It never really showed up, but I slowly worked myself to the YEAH, OKAY moment.

So I’m here to dish out the Miracle Cure you’ve all been searching for.

Ready?

Here it is:

You are flawed. You will always be flawed. Your flaws are why people love you.

That’s it.

Yeah, I know it’s anticlimactic. I am extremely disappointed about the lack of magic spells and fairy dust. However, if I’ve learned anything, it’s that the answer is about ONE TRILLION times simpler than you think. The problem with those self-help books telling you to love yourself is that they never address the fact that you need to love your flaws, too.

The thing you’ve been missing is simply the realization that you are not missing anything. Your flaws, your uncertainty, your searching hands in the darkness, these are the things that create you. Most often, these are the things people love about you.

The magic spell is acceptance. Accept yourself the way you are, right now, in this moment. Maybe you don’t have the high paying job you want. Maybe you have a tendency to overthink things to the point of causing yourself to have a panic attack. Maybe you don’t floss. It’s okay. It’s okay to love and accept these things about yourself. It won’t always be this way. Life is always changing. You need to let go of your expectations and allow yourself to be. The past taught and shaped you, but you don’t need to live there. The future is unknown and you don’t need to live there, either. You need to live right now. You need to love this moment. You need to love the fact that you are alive.

You don’t need a miracle cure because you are the miracle, exactly the way you are.

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February 2, 2018

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Books, Little Magics

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Little Magics: Used Books

Guys, I just want you to know that I have TEN drafts in my jnjnkmn  yuhjjm,.  n mjnmmmnmmmnmnnnnjmmmmjjjjjjjjjjjjnm vbnm,./

Ahem.

Sorry, I spilled coffee on my keyboard and I was trying to clean it off.

ANYWAY – I was trying to say that I have ten drafts for new blog posts just sitting around, looking sad. Will I ever finish them? No one knows.

Today I really wanted to write about why I love used books. I’m currently reading a used copy of The Silmarillion which I’m pretty sure someone brought over from England. I mean, the price on the back is only listed in pounds. It’s like a cursive Q with a line through it. I don’t have that symbol on my keyboard. I would know, I just got all up the keyboard’s grill trying to get that little drip of coffee out of the tiny space between the N key and the main plastic chunk.

This used book is cool because A. England and B. crazy illustration from the 80s on the cover. As I’ve been reading, though, I’ve noticed something else.

Whoever read this book before me was one of those people who dog-ear pages. THAT’S RIGHT YOU HEARD ME.

I can’t do anything to books. It makes me squirm. I can’t dog-ear pages, I can’t write in them, I can’t even use bookmarks that might cause dents in the pages (I’m lookin’ at you, adorable magnetic neko bookmark from Japan that I ordered off the internet). The only thing I can do is highlight and I can only do that in non-fiction, made-for-learning-a-thing books. And I can only use the bright yellow highlighters because other colors bleed through the pages and that is not okay.

I’m not mad that Previous Book Owner dog-eared the pages, though. I didn’t do it, so it doesn’t bother me. It’s the act of doing that causes me stress. Though I do have a habit of breaking spines horrifically, usually because I don’t know I’m doing it. I get all into whatever I’m reading and twist my hands around when I’m holding them. Hardcovers don’t suffer, but paperbacks get a little mangled when I’m done.

In fact, I really like finding the little creases that indicate a page has been dog-eared. I’ve noticed that Previous Book Owner, whoever he or she may be, always stopped where the text breaks, even if it isn’t the end of the chapter. You know, when the scene changes so there’s an extra space between paragraphs? That kind of break.

I usually like to finish a chapter, but if it’s super long and my alarm keeps telling me it’s bedtime (curse bedtime alarms why do I torture myself thus), I will stop in the middle of a sentence if necessary. Then I might start the chapter over or at least the page, in case I’ve missed something.

I feel like I’ve gotten to know Previous Book Owner in an odd, anonymously intimate way. Reading is very personal for me. I get wholly involved in the story, emotions and all. So it’s like I get to share, here in the future, the same pages that Previous Book Owner read through and maybe the same emotions in reaction to the story. I also get to share that little moment when they pressed down the page corner to save their place. It’s a unique feeling. I’ll never know who that person was. There is simply no way for me to ever find them. And that’s part of what makes it special.

There are many little things in life that reinforce my belief in magic and this is one of them. If you have yet to experience it, go buy a used book or just rent one from the library. There’s an untold amount of people who have read a library book. And all of you will be connected by the story you shared.

(PS – I’ve decided to turn this type of post into a series called “Little Magics” in which I document the little moments of magic that I sometimes come across.)

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January 5, 2018

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Books

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Why I’m Not Taking the Goodreads Challenge

Ahhh, a new year! The perfect time to COMMIT TO EVERYTHING including lofty reading goals!

For the past three years, I have signed up for the Goodreads challenge. For the unaware, this is where you choose a certain number of books that you plan to read for that year. Doesn’t matter which books or anything, all you choose is the number. Then you track the books on Goodreads as you read them so you can see how close you are to your goal.

I reached my goals, but the problem I noticed is that I would avoid BIG THICK BOOKS because I knew it would take me way too long to read them. My fifty book goal would be at two by the middle of the year. That is no good. A thousand page book and a twenty page book both equal one book.

As a Nerdy Nerd, I like to read fantasy books. And fantasy books tend to come only in Medium (400-600 pages) and Large (800-1500 pages). And that’s just the first book of the Trilogy, Quartet, or Series (which also only comes in Medium (5 books) and Large (20 books)).

So I decided this is the YEAR OF THE FANTASY EPIC which is really just LET’S SEE HOW MANY FAT BOOKS I CAN TAKE OUT IN ONE YEAR IT’S PROBABLY GOING TO BE MAYBE TWO.

I thought about making my Goodreads challenge two books this year, but I thought that might hurt my Internet Literary Nerd Cred, so I decided against it. Instead, I’m writing this ridiculous blog post about it.

First up on the list? The Silmarillion by J.R.R. Tolkien. I know, right? How can I possibly call myself a Lord of the Rings fan if I haven’t read that one? I’ve had a copy of it on my shelf for at least three years. I got a really cool old version with a beautiful cover from a used bookstore for cheap. I get excited about this kind of thing, don’t judge.

Anyway, I have to finish the two books I already started last year first and then I shall begin the epic tome. I have a list, but it’s not in order since I’ll likely just choose whatever I want from it as I go, but I have A Game of Thrones on there, too. It’s been on my Kindle for at least six years.

I have a couple on there that aren’t technically considered fantasy, though it seems 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami is a bit genre-defying and could be categorized as such.

TRUTH: I am a slow reader.

I like to take my time and really immerse myself in what I’m reading, which is why it takes me much longer to read books than peeps might think.

So wish me luck, fair blog reader. If I complete The Silmarillion only, I will consider it a success. I guess we’ll see how often I get caught up in Japanese and Korean food dramas on Netflix. ‘Cause it’s been a lot lately. OOPS.

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December 8, 2017

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General Writing Stuff, Random

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Don’t Be a Sisyphus

Seriously, don’t do it. Sisyphus was apparently a big jerk so he got doomed to an eternity of pain and suffering.

Okay, okay, I’ll summarize Sisyphus, just in case y’all don’t remember your Greek mythology.

Sisyphus was a King in ye olde Anciente Greece. Known to be the craftiest of all, he had a habit of killing people, defying the Gods, and doing all in his power to avoid death through trickery. Eventually, though, the Gods were like, “Nuh uh,” and managed to drag him down to Tartarus after many shenanigans. Once there, Zeus enchanted a boulder so that Sisyphus would have to push it up a hill only to have it roll back down again… for all eternity. ‘Cause the Gods don’t be foolin’ around.

Sisyphus was the worst. Does he truly deserve an eternity of boulder pushing? I don’t know and it hardly matters since this is mythology we’re talking about here. Whether or not Sisyphus was an actual person, I have a hard time believing he’s still pushing a boulder in a non-existent Underworld.

However, there are loads of people who have their own metaphorical boulders that they’ve been pushing for years only to have them roll back down again. Unlike Sisyphus, they don’t understand that what they’re doing is completely pointless. They have a firm belief that they will eventually get to the top and that the boulder will someday remain there.

Allow me to crush your hopes and dreams. Your boulder? Ain’t never gonna get to the top of that hill.

The good news is that who gives a fuck? I mean, seriously. Let me give you an example of the no fucks given that should be employed in this situation.

Using my own life is always easiest, so let’s go with that.

Hello, my name is Christina, and I’m a writer. I’ve been trying to finish a novel for ages and yet have never managed to do so. My boulder always crushes me as it goes back down the hill. Very painful. I have to wait for my broken legs to mend before I can get back up to continue pushing.

My boulder? Writing a novel.

My legs? Actually my confidence in my own skill as a writer.

While I wait for the legs, I study up on boulder pushing. Or in this case, on how to write a novel.

The problem? Everybody has their own methods of boulder pushing. So I end up pushing my boulder using bits of methods from all of them. Every time I start pushing again, I change the method based on what I’ve read recently. Or sometimes I just start over and do it exactly the same way.

The result? No results. Broken legs.

Guess what, though? That boulder is really made of my insecurities. All these years, I thought I was pushing my novel up that hill. Wrong! My novel is the hill! And its completed manuscript is at the top! That boulder is just a wad of doubt and outside influence. That boulder is me clinging to the idea that a writer has to do things a certain way and has to be a certain person.

Upon discovering the boulder was useless, I was able to fling my fucks out the window. Unlike Sisyphus, I can leave the boulder at the bottom of the hill. I can just walk around it and climb up the hill boulder-free. And eventually get to the top, where I can hang out with a finished novel.

There is actually a second option, too. I could walk away from the hill entirely. I could decide that writing a novel is not something I care to do. I could say, what the hell why is this so tied to my own identity, I give up goodbye. I’m gonna go be a bus driver, which turns out to be my true calling.

Not really, but my point is that you could do that with your own hill if you so desired.

My recommendation? Don’t be a Sisyphus. Get rid of your boulder. Walk away, walk around, or hire a burly construction worker to jackhammer it out of existence.

More often than not, the boulder is not something you need to contend with. You don’t need to take that thing with you anywhere. Whether it’s your insecurities, as in my case, or someone else’s expectations saying you have to do this specific thing or maybe your perception of what the world wants you to be. You don’t need any of that. Look seriously at your hill. Is it something that you chose for yourself? Is that hill representing something that is a true part of you? If so, realize the boulder is just doubt trying to keep you back from being your full self and walk around it. If not, realize that this is not the hill for you and walk away.

It’s okay. It’s okay to choose your own path. You aren’t a jerk like Sisyphus, so there’s no need to torture yourself as though you were an angry Zeus.

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November 15, 2017

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Fat & Happy: My Reality

My grandma always used to say “Be fat and be happy!”

I don’t know if she truly believed that sentiment, but as a kid, I thought it was perfect.

However, things changed. I got older. I got different messages. I changed my outlook.

For a long time now, I’ve been trying to reconcile the ideas in my head and the feelings in my heart with the message I’ve received from the world for my entire life.

Head says, “You’re healthy. All your tests come out fine. No doctor has ever told you you’ll die if you don’t lose weight. So what does it matter? Also, have you looked at how expensive those diet programs are? Those peeps are bajillionaires so of course they’re going to tell you that your weight is a problem. Just go your own way, you’re totes fine.”

Heart says, “Yeah, what’s it to anybody else how you look? You’re beautiful, baby! Your curves are part of who you are! Why hate on yourself because you can’t maintain a supermodel body? Most of which are photoshopped anydangway? Have a donut, it’s okay.”

The world says, “Nope. Being fat is deadly, you are obese, you are lazy, you are incapable of restraining yourself from eating all kinds of foods that will obviously kill you. OH BUT here, buy some more of it because guess what it’s actually heart healthy, you know! Now hang on, don’t eat so much of that, here buy this book and this exercise program and this gym membership, that should help you, you ugly cow.”

Then my head starts saying, “Wait, what… I’m an ugly cow?? Oh my god, I’m an ugly cow, what is wrong with me, I’m the laziest and the fattest and no one will ever love me or find me attractive.”

Then the heart chimes in with, “OH GOD I FEEL BAD NOW WHERE ARE THOSE COOKIES.”

I used to care a lot about my weight because of that message from society, but lately, I’ve been really questioning it. I don’t feel unhealthy. I feel fine, physically.

 

A year ago, my doctor told me I had high cholesterol. My previous doctor had told me the same thing and she told me it was likely genetics that caused it. When my current doctor told me, my immediate response was, “Yeah, I know I need to lose weight.”

You know what she said?

She said, “Oh, it might not have anything to do with your weight.”

And guess what? It didn’t.

For the next year, I figured out what I needed to do to eat healthier. I stopped eating as much fast food. I started cooking a lot of something healthy on Sunday so I could freeze it for the whole next week or even two. My cholesterol? It went down by twenty points. (That’s a lot. My doc was impressed.) My weight? It stayed the same.

I did not lose a pound. And yet, my cholesterol (and other things that might’ve been creeping up) went down and I was healthier. So why does everybody say being fat is bad for you?

It’s either because that’s what they’ve been (falsely) taught or making other people believe being fat is bad for you is the source of their income.

Food companies? Full of shit. Don’t believe a thing those fools tell you. They pay butt loads of money to be able to say their product is “heart healthy” or whatever. They give out awards to themselves. (It’s like Kraft giving their cheese the “Healthiest Cheese” award. Kraft cheese: the Healthiest Cheese according to Kraft! I’m not making this shit up.)

SO.

Here’s the deal, my peeps. The reality is that being fat is not unhealthy. Need you more evidence? Are you wondering where I’m getting this info from? Aside from my own personal experience with cholesterol, that is?

Read this book. It has been blowing my mind. This lady is all about the science, guys. She’s done studies, she’s studied studies, and she’s got like ten Ph.D.s. My therapist recommended it to me and I’m freaking out about it.

So if being fat is not bad for you, the only reason you have left to try losing weight is that you’re concerned about how you look.

Let me lay it out for you like this (and I know I’ve written it this way somewhere before… my old blog, maybe? I don’t remember):

A supermodel chooses to be a supermodel, in most cases. It is their job. It is their livelihood. They spend their job maintaining their supermodel body. Those eight hours you’re hanging out in a cubicle? They’re doing whatever it is supermodels have to do to stay at their tiny size. And then probably the rest of the twenty-four hours on top of that.

You know who else does this kind of thing? Elton John. I mean, all musicians, but I’m just using him as an example. Now, I don’t know Elton, but my guess is that he spends quite a lot of time at the piano. He plays and he plays and he plays that’s what makes him so amazingly good at it. The time and work a supermodel puts into looking like a supermodel, Elton John puts into sounding like an amazing musician.

Do you expect yourself to be able to play the piano like Elton John while still maintaining a full-time job and living your normal day to day life? Of course not. If you could do that, you’d be some kind of super genius or something.

So why in the world would you expect yourself to have a supermodel body (or anything even close to it) under the same circumstances?

IT MAKES NO DANG SENSE.

And seriously, all those people who are like, oh man I only date supermodels because I’m clearly super gorgeous myself la la la YEAH WHATEVER FOOL.

That person is in dreamland. NOBODY IS PERFECT. WE ARE ALL DIFFERENT. WE ARE ALL DIVERSE. AND WE ALL HAVE SOMETHING TO BRING INTO AND ADD TO THIS WORLD, NO MATTER WHAT WE LOOK LIKE, WHERE WE CAME FROM, OR WHAT HORRIBLE THINGS HAVE HAPPENED IN OUR PAST.

Why do you want to contribute to the fat shaming of our society by forcing yourself to conform to it? By trying to be thin when you’re just not built to be thin? By doing diets that are more harmful and actually cause you to gain more weight in the long run? By doing exercise you hate even though there is no scientific evidence that it promotes weight loss?

I’m not subscribing to that guilt trip anymore. According to our health industry (which is bought out by the big corporations, by the way, and unfortunately can’t be trusted most of the time), I’m considered obese. Fuck that.

You wanna know what I think? I think I’m beautiful. I think I’ve got a round belly and soft thighs and man I am like a freakin’ pillow. Cuddling with me is like cuddling with a cloud ’cause I’m just that soft and squishy. I’m also a creative, loving person who will giggle with anybody about unicorns and enjoy every ounce of coffee, chocolate, and french fries I consume. I don’t hate people who have issues with their body. I want to embrace them. I want to tell them that it’s okay. I want to tell them that they are wonderful just as they are. That they are not unhealthy and there is proof of that. That they are more likely to die in a car accident than by being “overweight”. And this includes everybody. I love all of you, each and every one. Whether you’re fat or skinny or somewhere in between. Whether you hate yourself or love yourself. You deserve happiness. Don’t let the lies convince you that you aren’t good enough.  You are. You’re good enough for me, at the very least. And if you look at those who love you, you’ll find they think you’re more than good enough for them. Love each other, yes? Love each other, love yourself.

Be fat and be happy.

[[DISCLAIMER: Once again, most of my info comes from the book Health At Every Size, as linked above. The author goes into A LOT of science and more detail. She discusses the role of money in the food industry, government health regulations, and the agricultural industry (which gave us the food pyramid). She also goes into the impact of weight on actual health, including various diseases normally attributed to weight gain. If anything I said above piques your interest (even if it’s that you disagree), I highly recommend checking out the book. You can also ask me and I will happily quote the book at you all day. I claim none of this info as my own except for my experience with cholesterol, the things my own doctors have said, and all that stuff which is obviously my opinion and anger at the entire situation.]]

 

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October 15, 2017

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Why I Can’t Write

Okay people. I’m about to get really real with y’all. So be prepared for that, I guess.

It’s been a month since I wrote my Crazy Town Update post. Since this post is slightly related, let me tell you what ended up happening on the medication front. Basically, I switched meds. So far, I have not had a bad reaction, but I never fully stopped taking anything. I replaced citalopram with escitalopram. I know, I know. But they don’t do the same thing. The citalopram was treating something I no longer deal with and the escitalopram is basically the citalopram equivalent for what I am dealing with. It’s like if your cold turned into bronchitis. You would start out taking whatever to treat cold symptoms, but eventually you’d have to switch to something that could treat bronchitis symptoms. 

Anyway, I wanted to write about why I’m not writing. This isn’t entirely true, since obviously I can still write some stuff. The thing is that I never seem to be able to finish anything beyond poetry and blog posts – this has been happening for years. Lately, however, I’m having a hard time doing writing of any kind. I’m really forcing myself to do this because sometimes that’s what you have to do.

It has taken me a long time to discover why this has been happening for so long.

Back in July, I wrote a post about failing. You can read it here if you so desire. I talk a lot about discovery writing and how I was using it as an excuse. I talk about how afraid I am that whatever I write is going to be awful.

I still feel that way and I doubt I will ever stop feeling that way. I’ve also recently discovered that I’m just as afraid of success as I am of failure. Yeah, I’m a mess.

These things might be good explanations for why I’m stuck, but there’s more to it than just these surface fears.

The real question is why?

To overcome fear, you have to face it. In this case, it sounds like I need to just write and that will be facing my fear. Not so. What I need to do is go inside, to my inner feelings mausoleum where I bury all the junk I don’t want to think about, open the tomb, take everything out, and hold it in my hands, my heart, and my mind.

Why are you afraid?

Why do you believe you aren’t good enough?

Why do you think you’re unworthy?

I think these questions plague many people. And the truth about creativity is that it is fueled by emotion. If you’re like me and you bury feelings away, you’ll soon find that you bury all of the feelings. And when all your feelings are buried or chained up or hidden or lost – you can’t call on them for creativity.

And that’s why I can’t write. This is why I haven’t been able to truly put all I have into my writing. I don’t allow myself access to all I have. I allow myself access to just enough to get through my days.

The reality of life is that while our society generally prefers people to “put on a happy face”, that advice is total bullshit. You’ll be miserable forever if you pretend that you’re not miserable.

What is the true key to happiness? It’s two fold. The first part is realizing that it’s actually impossible to be happy all the time. That’s not how life works. By living, by putting yourself out there, you are committing yourself to both happiness and pain. That’s what risk is. If you never take a risk, you will never experience either of those things. They come together. The second part is acceptance. You can’t just take the happiness and leave the pain. Embrace the truth of how you feel. Do you feel sad? Worried? Angry? Upset? You want to cry? Eat all the chocolate? Stuff it down with alcohol? No. Don’t stuff it down. Let it out. Talk about it. Be honest with yourself. Say, yes I’m hurting. And it’s okay! 

It is okay to feel ANY feeling. Sadness, anger, defeat, failure, depression, frustration, fear, lonliness. IT IS OKAY.

Never let anyone tell you your feelings don’t matter. Never let anyone tell you to “suck it up”. Never let anyone tell you that you need to hide your emotions.

If you do that, you will never be able to set those feelings free. Instead they’ll sit inside you and fester. They will mutate into monsters. And then you’ll have a lot more shit to deal with.

If you can’t talk to someone – at least be honest about your feelings with yourself. And be gentle with yourself. You are doing the best that you can, even if it feels like you aren’t.

I would like to say here that I am learning a lot of these ideas from Brene Brown and I highly recommend her books Rising Strong and Daring Greatly.

In conclusion, I’m learning how to be honest with myself about my feelings. I’m learning how to access them again. And while it’s rough going sometimes, it’s also a relief to finally let them out. I have a feeling it won’t be long before I’m writing again.

I’m learning to say: I am enough.

And so are you. Know that you are loved and know that no matter what you are enough.

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August 27, 2017

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Crazy Town Update

I would like to start by saying thank you to everyone who commented on my last post, both here and on Facebook, giving me encouragement and letting me know that I’m not alone. It means so much to me and I love you all for being so supportive.

Now, you may recall from my previous post that getting off of this medication caused me to experience something called “head zaps”, which while annoying, weren’t painful. That was the case for the first few days of the week. Thursday, not so good. Friday, getting worse. Saturday, unbearable. Not only did they become far more frequent and intense, but they were getting painful, too.

Saturday night, I’m desperate for relief, but I’m SO DETERMINED not to take the pills again. So, as I always do in times of crisis, I turned to Google.

I was looking for advice on how to reduce the effects – anything I could do or other things I could take that might make the head zaps less horrible. I think my Adderall really does make a difference, which is why I was able to function at work at all this week. The problem is that I can’t take Adderall at night if I want to sleep. Plus it’s not like I use it to treat head zaps and I still need it for it’s actual purpose, so it isn’t really a good solution.

The only thing I could find was people recommending fish oil supplements. Although I don’t understand how that works, I didn’t give a shit and was willing to try any damn thing. If they had said to smear peanut butter all over my body, I would have done it.

So I slowly make my way to Smith’s which is open 24 hours and super close to my house – I don’t think I would have made it too far – and buy me some fish oil. That mess is expensive! What am I paying $25 for? Some guy scraping oil off of fish? I’m sure that’s not how it works, but fish oil just doesn’t seem like something that should cost so much.

Anyway, fish oil prices aside, I went home and took some. No change, but I’m not sure how long it takes to make a difference, so I go back to my Google search to see if there’s anything else I may have missed.

And then I find a tapering schedule recommended by a doctor specifically for Celexa (I take the generic citalopram, but it’s the same thing).

This schedule? EIGHT WEEKS. 

The one I did? Three.

Now, I made up my own schedule, so perhaps that was part of the issue. It’s not that I’m not seeing someone for these meds – I am, but our focus was on the Adderall, not the citalopram. She recommended I try to stop taking it, that some people experience head zaps, but she didn’t say much about it beyond that. 

The thing is, I’ve been taking this medication for years, so of course I’m more likely to have severe side effects when trying to stop taking it. I thought I was helping that with my three week tapering schedule, but it turns out you need to give each dose reduction a LOT more time so your body can adjust. 

At this point, I realized it would make a lot more sense for me to start taking the pill again and try this longer tapering schedule. I would rather do that with the chance that I can successfully get off the pill with minimal withdrawal symptoms than try to suffer my way through the horribly intense ones I was having. 

Stage one is taking my regular dose for a week, letting myself get used to that again, then alternating days with the lower dose for a couple weeks. Then you just kind of do that while reducing each dose until you get to the end. If I follow the schedule I’ve got set up now, I won’t be fully off the drug until mid October. Which is perfectly fine with me because I woke up head zap free and I haven’t had one all day. 

I took the Knight Bus out of Crazy Town, but only for a week’s vacay. I’ll be stuck behind the world’s slowest sloth on my way back in, though, so it should take me seven weeks to get back to where I was. It’s cool, speeding in on a moped was clearly not the way to go. I’m more than happy to try again.