FAB FRIDAY FAB FRIDAY FAB FRIDAY FAB FRIDAY

WOW AN ACTUAL FAB FRIDAY WHERE I'M ACTUALLY HAPPY WHAT. Laura will be so proud!

So, the way my life has been going you'd think I'd just throw in the towel. I'm just not fit to be an adult sometimes. I do dumb things like leave empty ice cream containers on my bed for three days with the bedroom window open, allowing ants to take my bed hostage. I drop old bananas on the living room carpet and then cover them in couch blankets and then step in them and forget about them until they ruin everything. I randomly confront people about dumb things they said 20 years ago that they don't even remember, making everyone uncomfortable. I forget to pay my student loans for two months because I don't open the emails or mail and then expect everything to be OK.

And everything is OK. I have a husband that fixed the ants and the carpet I ruined. (Please don't leave me, husband.) People are understanding and compassionate when I send them awkward messages. Student loan companies give you three months before they report you to the credit bureau.

I guess I get to be an adult after all. Yay.




This week in Fabness:

• Suddenly, I remember how to do bullets properly. It's very exciting! I feel young again!



• Somehow I got up on Wednesday and decided to go for a walk. This was unplanned. It all started a few weeks ago when I woke up at 6am by accident one day. Usually I'm the girl who is in bed until she has to leave, but when I woke up at 6am that day I just knew I could somehow do that again, even if I just sat around being awake. So I began setting my alarm for 6am daily. Sure, all I did was play endless games of Bejeweled, but I was up.
  
  Then one day, I decided not to play Bejeweled. I just got up, slipped on the clothes, laced up the sneakers, and proceeded to strut my stuff. Ever since then I've been on a streak of doing this every morning. It's nice. Sure, my legs feel like lead and I run out of steam pretty quickly, but it puts me in such a great mood for the rest of the morning. And I can't believe I'm doing this like I always wanted. I always wanted to be that girl who goes for a run in the morning before work and now I am!



• I had the best weekend last weekend. I was able to go to three parties.
• The first party was at my friend Kellee's house. We hadn't seen each other in 20 years and I was nervous. Fortunately, the only awkward thing about it was that nobody else knew who I was! And when they eventually left Kellee invited me to stick around and we had our own chill after party of karaoke and breeze shootin' ... it meant a lot to me. It's neat to me how I can just pick up right where I left off with almost everyone. I realize how rare that is for most people.
• The second party was with my church. The Balchs hosted a cookout and it was the best thing. There were cute little children and babies, delicious cake, and the most perfect burgers and ribs. And Greg came! And he stayed two hours! And we got to be outside with the breeze and the sun and adult people, but we also got to be in a pretty house with pretty colors and pretty crafts. I left with an exploding belly and a food coma (and a broken toenail, because it's not a real party until you're run over by a skateboard).



• The third party was with my family. My brother-in-law and his wife hosted a party for the Patriarch at their swanky new digs. I love their house and their puppies. There were three, count 'em, three different kind of puppies and the most meat I've ever eaten in my whole life. We played bean bag toss in the backyard and also chilled in their amazing house. OMG THEIR HOUSE--it's a beautiful dream house and I love it. I wish they'd adopt me as their child so I could come visit all the time.



• You guys, I'm agnostic/unitarian as anything, but I'm seriously considering re-joining. Right now I'm at the point where, maybe, just maybe, there might be a higher power. Maybe not an afterlife, but a higher power. I recognize that I might be relying on magical thinking, but whatever. I'm super cool with other people having specific higher powers or not having a higher power and thinking I'm crazy for believing in imaginary things. It's cool. We all work out for ourselves the way we think life should be. And I think that I would like to try a real church service, just for funsies, for old time's sake.



• I'm almost finished with my first class at UMUC. At the end of June I start the harder stuff with back to back 8 week courses on Algebra and Finite Mathematics.
  
  I'm not a nerd girl. I don't masturbate with Nintendo controllers, although I might scream FUCK! while playing Mario Kart. I got a B in Biology and cannot imagine having to take Chemistry or Physics. I'm sure I would enjoy watching Star Wars, but I tried three times and fell asleep. I don't know how to work a Roku or why people are excited about game consoles. I can enjoy these things, but they're not my interests. I'm not going to make obscure references about Lord of the Rings in every day conversation. I don't know what World of Warcraft is, but I know it's something people play.
  
  However, I'm still a smart person and enjoy learning. I love to read and I read all the time. What might challenge me, however, is not going to challenge others. I have to say I'm dreading all the math I'll be taking. However, I'll be finished by Halloween.

I'm not really sure why I bothered with bullets. I'm too verbose for that crap.

I get to see old friends tonight tomorrow at an uncertain time due unexpected BFF emergency and I'm going to squish them and make them feel uncomfortable! Yay!

It just got real on So What! Wednesday

Oooh Oooh Oooh! I have a bunch of So What! Wednesday junk for you!

-SO WHAT IF I HAVE A SWARM OF ANTS IN MY BED. Actually nevermind. EW I HAVE A SWARM OF ANTS IN MY BED. :( But as my friend Heather told me, "At least you don't have ants in your pants!"

-So WHAT IF I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING ELSE RELATING TO MY LIFE FOR SO WHAT! Wednesday? I legit don't care about anything else! I should be worried that my house is a bit cluttered and I have homework and bills, but I sort of don't. I'm kind of doing the best I can do, and if worst comes to worst I'll hire a damned maid for my birthday.

Let me see if I can pull things from the headlines.

-SO WHAT IF I'D FEEL GUILTY DOING SO WHAT ON THE HEADLINES? That would be really rude to be like SO WHAT IF SO AND SO WAS KILLED IN AN AMERICAN DRONE STRIKE OR THAT A DNA VIDEO LEAD TO AN ARREST IN A FRENCH SOLDIER ATTACK OR THAT A CHINESE BABY FELL INTO A SEWAGE PIPE ACCIDENTALLY. (Wait, are you serious? These headlines are terrible!)

Let me try something better, like weird news:

-SO WHAT IF MOTHER/DAUGHTER PORN DUO SEEKS FATHER-SON PARTNERS? Porn isn't real! It's just the movies. Really, you need to learn the difference between fucked up fantasy and reality!

... That's really not what I was hoping to cover on So What! Wednesday.

-SO WHAT! if I totally lied about having any content whatsoever for So What! Wednesday and just wanted to participate in the link up for funsies?

Have some So What! content yourself? DON'T TELL ME ABOUT IT. Go over to this link up linked below and write a blog post about it and meet some blogs that are way, way, way more awesome than mine. :-D

THE AWESOME PLAN

It's Tuesday, but it's really Monday.  I figured I'm done with the shenanigans and am ready to face brass tacks or whatever one says to indicate they are finished goofing off.

I took a week off of exercising last week because I injured my lady parts (yes, those lady parts) and walking was making it worse. Few things are worse than sick lady parts and having to deal with medicating it. Then I went to three parties with vast amounts of food and gained two pounds.

Right now I'm 218 pounds and this is the weight I've been sitting at most of the year.  It's a pound or two lighter than I was at my wedding, and about ten lighter than around New Year's, and it makes me feel like all my clothes are digging into my flesh.  Not cute.

I'm already uncomfortable being fat.  I know I talk about trying to learn some body acceptance and to eat healthier and to beat my emotional eating once and for all. However, right now I just want to be thinner and I don't think there's anything wrong with that.

Not having a goal or a plan, I googled, "How to lose 100 pounds."  I found a lot of great resources for creating a plan on this website, although I don't really like the before and after photos and do not plan on being as thin as the lady in the photograph. I decided to pick and choose ideas that seemed doable and discard everything else.

Goal

It's not like I want to be extremely thin and birdlike.  Sure, my inner anorexic teenager is already picturing what she perceives as beautiful bones and what I see as unhealthy attitudes.  I just want to be less heavy when I move.  I want moving my body to be easier and to be able to do it for longer periods of time without becoming tired.  I want my clothes to be loose and easy to move in. My ultimate goal weight is 128 pounds, with good blood test numbers, and to stay moderately to highly physically active and I will adjust as much as I can when I get within 50-20 pounds of it. My goal is to make peace with stepping outside of my comfort zone, to sweat, to ache sometimes, to try to stop eating to the point of feeling uncomfortable, to live life in a better and more sustainable matter.

Timeline

I want to lose 90 lbs.  Can I do this in a year? NOPE. However, it might be possible to succeed in two years. I found a website that helps you calculate realistic weight loss goals.  You plug in your information and your weight loss goals, and it gives you a calorie count for each week. I am 5'4.5" and 218 pounds.  My goal is a healthy weight of 128 pounds.  I put in the goal of losing 90 pounds in a year, but notice that this puts me under a healthy amount of calories per day toward the end of my plan.  I can either choose to lower my yearly goal on the calculator or go with the current plan with the intention of eating at least 1500 calories per day toward the end of the diet for a slightly slower result toward the end.  I chose to lower my yearly goal to lose 45 pounds per year for two years. I will be losing between 1/2 to 1 pound per week. During the first week of the plan, I will want to eat 1785 calories per day.

Exercise

Remember when I said I want to move around more?  I'm going to start by moving around more. Each day when I arrive home from work, I will slip on something more comfortable, tie up my sneakers and walk 30 minutes with a 5 minute stretch after.  On weekends I will wake up and walk 30 minutes with a 5 minute stretch after.

In fact, remember that instructable I linked to?  Here is a sample workout plan I stole from it that looks perfect for me:

Monday - 30 minutes of walking with upper body strength
Tuesday - 30 minutes of walking
Wednesday - 30 minutes of walking with core strength
Thursday - 30 minutes of walking
Friday - 30 minutes of walking with lower body strength
Saturday - 30 minutes of walking
Sunday - 30 minutes of walking

I love this, because upper body strength could be push ups and rows, core strength could be Pilates moves with a sole focus on back and abs, and lower body strength could be squats and lunges.  And if I get bored there's this website, and this website, as well as this website. There are endless websites with endless moves to jazz up a boring strength training workout. There are endless workout DVDs featuring Biggest Loser trainers and in-home walking workouts for those days where the outdoors sucks.

WHAT IF IT DOESN'T WORK?

This is the most important part.  Losing even five to twenty pounds would be fine with me, and is more than doable. However, the most important goal is to continue to be more physically active and banish unhealthy attitudes toward food.

Failure is laying on the couch worrying about what I'm eating constantly and not coming up with a plan to get off that couch eventually.

If I keep trying, then that's all that matters. After two years if I don't lose almost 100 lbs, as long as I'm on my feet, moving around, dancing and running around and lifting heavy things with a healthier attitude toward nourishing myself, I haven't failed.

If I'm making recipes featured on Thug Kitchen, I haven't failed.

If I'm enjoying the special occasion small bag of chips with that recipe, no big deal.

If I go over or under my calories, no big deal.  Calorie counts are more of a guideline to get your weight in a different direction.  It's more about eating until you get just the correct feeling of not being too full and not being too hungry, and trying to make sure those foods are full of nutrition or are feeding your soul.

I will make this work for me, because I plan to live longer than the two years I've scheduled for weight loss, and I want it to be something I can make friends with for the long haul. 

FAB FRIDAY FIGHTING CANCER

Hi my readers and Laura's readers!

One day I'll have the courage to do my own, most likely offensive and career-ending, Friday link up but for now I'm doing Laura's again. Although I am definitely still working on visiting all those blogs I found from the So What Weds I visited a few days ago. Link ups are crazy fun in the blogging world!



 A week ago today I got to participate in this:

(You can view more photos here (Ken's Album) and here (My Album).)

I am a parenthesis master.

This year’s Relay for Life almost did not take place. Usually my group does West Anne Arundel County Relay for Life at Old Mill High School. Unfortunately, it was cancelled a mere three hours before official set up because of a bomb scare at the high school the day before. It seemed unnecessary to me, considering bombings can happen in any public place. Amazingly, there was an Arnold/Annapolis Relay for Life taking place at the Anne Arundel County Fairgrounds. Officials decided to merge both events at Anne Arundel County Fairgrounds, making one giant successful event.

While there were a few hiccups, our team walked laps the entire night, participated in flash mobs and karaoke, and as of today we have raised $2,989.00 toward fighting cancer. If you feel generous or if you are just, really, really, really mad and want to take a bite out of cancer, feel free to donate to that page. Or if you don't like the American Cancer Society, find a cancer fighting organization and donate money or time towards that. If you donate to my team, here is where your money goes.

Also, I cut my own hair.

Hurr.

Sorry I look sort of dead as I was very sick and exhausted after Relay.

I actually look more like this IRL:

Me, before layered haircut.

And here I am if I was a bee and a person named Liz was scared of bees:

I should probably submit this because by the time I'm done it'll be Saturday!

So What Wednesday

This week I'm ever so thrilled to be saying SO WHAT to the following things:

So what if I'm saying so what. At least I'm not saying Oh FUCK! And that's one step forward in living a cleaner, holier than thou lifestyle. (How great would an OH FUCK Friday link up be, though? It would make my life. I'm sure there have to be non-mommy bloggers out there just itching to be part of an OH FUCK demographic. Here, I even have a graphic for you!) edit: Belatedly, FUCK IT FRIDAY would roll off the tongue nicer.

I had pizza this week and stopped packing my food for lunch. I don't have to be perfect as my life is not all or nothing. I'm still eating my bananas and I plan on going shopping today. Actually I HAVE AN AWESOME PLAN of getting up in the morning and doing my walks then.

So what ... if my awesome plan has not occured yet? I need my sleep for now. I'm working this week on getting to bed earlier after my insomnia Relay for Life amazing self stayed awake for 28 glorious hours to raise awareness for cancer. I'll work next week on other things.

So what if I can't draw?

So what if my method for combating menstrual annoyance hasn't matured much since I was 20? And that I was way thinner back then?

The Dream Monster

Shhhh, don't tell anyone, but I took a semester off of school this spring.

 

When people asked me about classes I was like, "Uh, I'm taking a remedial or two."

 

And I was totally planning to, but I never signed up. 

 

See, between some health scares and some family crises, I felt like I was being eaten alive by priorities. The laundry, the sink, my diet, my job, my blood pressure, my weight, a cancer diagnosis in my family, my depression, my anxiety, it all grew teeth and blew hot, putrid air into my face, knocking me over with a monstrous force.

The dream monster.

 

I took one look at my schedule and said, "Maybe next semester."  And I stroked the schedule and looked at it longingly at what would never be as the stinky monster ruthlessly chewed it up and went, "Ptooey!" all over my plans. 

 

It the midst of its sulfurous farts and echoing burps as it snarfled and gulped and slurped at me out of spite, I quietly enrolled in school for the summer.  (Well, as quietly as someone as talkative as me can do something considered quiet.) And as the monster said, "If you want some, I'm going to have to barf it all up, because it's gone," I noticed a "lovely cheese pizza, just for me." 

 

Wait, no, that's Home Alone.

 

No, what I mean is that despite how terrible I've felt and despite all my problems, I just kept on rolling. Health problems?  Still went to work and did laundry. Friends? Still went to see some of them a few times a month.  Bills?  I made arrangements. Anxiety?  I shared myself with you.

 

Sometimes I feel like I'm in an abusive relationship with myself and that if I quietly do things without making a big production out of them the other part of me might not notice and ruin everything I've worked so hard for.

 

To change the subject entirely, have you ever taken a semester off of school?  Nobody else seemed to care, but, boy, those fricken loan companies sure notice.  I'm totally in classes right now and I get emails and mail every week saying, "Paaaaay meeee!" And I'm sitting here thinking, "You're not getting a red cent from me until I graduate in 2015. Bitch, you can wait two more years for your money!"

How I sneakily started eating in a more healthful manner

One morning at age 23 I woke up with my throat on fire and a fever of 104 degrees Fahrenheit.  I had not visited the doctor in the last year and the last time was because I came down with bronchial pneumonia and almost died.

Feeling pressured to call the doctor but unable to speak, I had my mother make an appointment for me. Not enough energy to climb on the bed with the paper sheet, they took my blood pressure while I sat in a chair and I learned I had Stage II Hypertension.  

It was pretty much the end of the world.

I was ordered to go on bed rest for a week where I was not allowed to return to work or school while they put me on strong blood pressure medication that did nothing and made me feel like I was going to faint.  Tried another pill that had a side-effect that actually caused asthma. Tried yet another pill that had no effect whatsoever.  Finally tried another pill that brought it so low they just took me off pills.

In 2012 after a trip to the emergency room for a migraine ended with a spinal tap and a vicodin-induced panic attack, I decided to lose the pills.  All pills.  Except Advil, I'm off anti-depressants, ADHD meds, blood pressure meds and I'm saying eff the doctor.

Then a whole bunch of life happened involving moving, being betrayed by my best friend, some wild storms and power outages, two bouts of food poisoning, getting married, dropping out of school ...

By Christmas my blood pressure was higher than it had been in my early twenties.

I fuh-reaked out. I didn't want to go to the doctor and be put on more shitty medication that did nothing but make me dizzy. I tried going on a strict diet to bring it down rapidly, but I was already using food to medicate my various problems.  I ended up feeling like a failure when I was unable to keep eating right and going back to my pizza-eating ways, until I got a severe attack of acid reflux and had to quit pizza sauce on my pizza.

All was not lost. Healthier choices snuck up on me. I didn't even plan this moderation.

First I began walking once every few weeks.  Then I walked once a week. My once a week walks turned into daily walks and sometimes those walks transformed into sprints.   Now I feel antsy if I don't get outside at least once a day.

I still ate pizza. But I began adding components of better choices. I began having fruit for breakfast for a week. Then every few days I'd add a pound of mushrooms as a night-time snack.  Every once in a while instead of pizza we'd have homemade chicken quesadillas with avocado. Then I started snacking on grapes a lot and eating the mushrooms more frequently, mushrooms by themselves instead of on a pizza without sauce. Then I decided I'd add some eggs every morning with my fruit, and maybe an english muffin.  I began eating more and more fruit throughout the day and sometimes vegetables. 

This week I started bring home fresh salads from the salad bar at the grocery store.  I'm at the point now that my fruits and vegetables are all I have room for, leaving room for one portion of comfort food a day.  Sometimes that comfort food is a small bowl of cereal.  Other days it's an oatmeal cookie.

Friday it will be pizza. Maybe with sauce, after doing Relay for Life. Or maybe not.  Maybe I won't have room for it.

My diet has turned surprisingly vegetarian, even though I'm not a vegetarian. Or am I? I mean, would I like to feel morally superior for trying my best not to eat factory farmed cows or whatever?  Maybe.  I'm human, so having an additional source of validation is always good for my ego.  However, I am not perfect.  My eggs aren't cage free.  My milk isn't from the farmer's market. And I'm not going to harp on how other people eat. My husband thinks Skinny Cow is healthy even though it has about 4 kajillion different ingredients, but I still enjoy eating that shit. I also could eat potato chips and cheetos any day.  I might try some great vegan-friendly recipes now and then.

I'm not a health guru.  I just don't trust doctors and I'm getting better each day at not dying.  That's all. 

Guest Post: PMS

I am an adult with a decent job, a marriage, a cat, and living in my dream apartment. Even so, I still become nostalgic every now and then for my early twenties, where I only had enough to rent a room in someone's house, to use a computer that was ten years out of date with a dial-up internet connection, and to be forced to walk or take the bus everywhere I went. 

This week I was feeling extra nostalgic for that time, so Greg and I and went to fire up my old Windows 95 to look at photos from way back when. Along with some amazing scanned photos from my childhood, which I'm looking forward to sharing eventually when I get everything migrated over to my laptop named Walter, Greg and I laughed endlessly over the many stupid webcam photos I took and saved between 2000 and 2005. 

I would like to invite a guest post to this blog today, but nobody has volunteered to be my first guest poster.  Therefore I would like to invite 20 year old Jenny, aided by fantastically dramatic webcam footage, explaining her secrets to surviving PMS first published September 30, 2002.

This girl appears to be the everyday average kind. One would never guess this girl has just alienated her friends, family, and boyfriend, downed desserts like eclairs and spumone all weekend and now is bloated to a size 35 inch waist (rather than 29), and has impulsive urges involving carjacking The Man and using His Royal Dodge to run down little old ladies. What is her secret?

I will let you in on it.

Jenny's secret steps to surviving PMS: 

Step 1: Find the softest, cuddliest, so-ugly/tacky-it's-cute-est stuffed creature and squeeze the life out of it to aleviate symptoms of cramps and tension.

Step 2: Most people, despite the evidence to the contrary, in fact ARE mind readers and know to steer clear of you when you have PMS. However, to the other morons out there, just extend your middle finger and execute a syrupy, sacharrine/psychotic smile.

Step 3: Even after taking every drug under the sun, you're still not going to be a size six even if you were a size two. Just slip on your tightest, darkest clothes in hopes they'll stretch out in time for next month's ordeal of pms symptoms and strike a confident pose.

Not Fab Fab Friday - Coexisting with the not fab fabness.

There is a whole lot that is NOT FAB right now. Rocky, my in-laws' golden retriever who has been my buddy for almost 10 years, died yesterday at the ripe old age of 15. Sad news bears. I have to enter a huge purchase order which is over 250 line items and is highly detailed on every line. I cannot concentrate to save my life. I'm being slammed by allergies. There is a creepy guy who was fired this week and we had to change our locks and all of us are afraid we might get shot. I had a bad therapy session on Tuesday that had me wondering if I need to find a new therapist.



That means I need this Fab Friday even more.

Here are this week's fab things:

I went to the best wedding ever and a play last weekend:

I have been blogging more in an attempt to make peace with myself and find out who I am.

Glee's finale was last night and therefore is on hiatus for the summer OMG I DESERVE A MEDAL FOR GETTING THROUGH THIS TERRIBLE SEASON.

I get to see some of my family on Sunday.

Relay for Life is next week and I really love my team. <3 If you want to donate to this lady's page , that would be lovely. She's been a real force for fundraising and getting the word out. Even though you don't know her, think of the cancer and we appreciate anything you can do to help us out and spread the word.

Last night Greg and I thought it would be funny to blow bubbles off of our balcony in honor of Rocky. Imagine looking out your window to see bubbles and not know where they're coming from? This was hilarious to us. We'll have to do it again and take photos.

Allie Brosh wrote in her blog! It was about what happens in depression when the numbness refuses to subside and I cried. I totally get that numb feeling sometimes where nothing can be felt and I do the whole facial expression thing. Like, the other night I was really frustrated that I was feeling nothing that I tried to speed on the road up to 100 miles an hour to see if that would scare me out of it. Nope. Ugh, so frustrating. :/ It's like my feelings are blocked off entirely right now. It's nice to see it Allie Broshified, all doodles and beautiful words that only she can do.

Okay that's it! Go to Laura's blog and visit other people! I'mma eat me a banana.

My First Job

At age 17, my first summer after high school, hot angry tears brimmed in my eyes as I mopped the red tiled floors of a Pizza Hut.  I had been working at Pizza Hut for several weekends straight. Each night I mopped floors, assembled food, did inventory, scrubbed walls and doors, did dishes, and usually stayed much later than I was legally supposed to until all my duties were finished.

That wasn't what had upset me. I hadn't had a chance to see my dad in a few weeks and had just learned my boss had scheduled me to work Father's Day. My parents were separated and about to divorce finally that fall and I wasn't quite used to this whole not-seeing-my-dad thing.  This seems a bit laughable now that I work and go to school all the time and haven't seen him since 2010.

This being my very first official job, a job where I had even skipped my senior prom to work, I was afraid to ask her to change my schedule, mostly because my boss was a really scary woman.

Just two months earlier, wearing a cardigan and a pink shirt, I interviewed for the job of kitchen help, a bundle of nerves as I explained to this tough, round, Drew Carey-faced woman with a shrill, mean voice, that I intended to learn the ropes of my duties while making $5.25 an hour.

She glared at me from across the booth where we were seated, a booth where she would later that summer scream at me in front of all my coworkers to let me know I was dressed like a streetwalker, and asked suspiciously, "Why are you shaking?  What is wrong with you?"

I lit up, thrilled to actually know an answer to a question in my very first job interview. "Oh, this is my first interview.  I'm just really excited and nervous." I said, quietly with my eyes (hopefully) dancing and not looking psychotic.

"WELL KNOCK IT OFF!"

For some reason, I immediately calmed down, probably because now I was just trying not to giggle inappropriately out of relief that this was going better than I had expected. Please don't let me laugh at this woman, I begged myself in my head.  I needed this job.

"And I don't know where you get off asking me to pay you $5.25 an hour.  I can't do that.  Minimum wage is $5.15 an hour."

I had no idea what minimum wage rates were and didn't care, so I was hired.

When I quit in August to move to Baltimore to stay with my grandmother (best college roommate ever, am I right?) all the waitresses sweetly begged me not to leave.

"Why do you want to go to college?  Don't you want to stay here and see us every day?"

If you had asked me months earlier, I would have said yes.  I had no desire to go to college and no idea what I wanted to do when I grew up, and I wasn't exactly thrilled at the aspect of getting from Baltimore to Arnold each day when I didn't have a car.

After a summer of waiting for a ride home between 11pm-1am, burning my hands and arms on the pizza oven various times, having absolutely no friends whatsoever so much as contact me all summer long, I decided there were only so many sunny mornings where I could gorge on french toast while vacuuming and watching Mama's Family before I felt like a useless shlob.

I was ready for adventure.

Adventures In Being Myself

Some people grow up knowing exactly who they are and who they want to be.

 

My ex always wanted to be a doctor.  He did not understand why, at age 20, I was still undeclared at my community college in Maryland instead of moving down to Florida to be with him.

 

"Because I didn't want to" was not an acceptable answer I could admit to him without a big argument. "Because he didn't want me to" also was not an acceptable answer worth discussing.

 

One of my best friends growing up, sweet and funny Lorrie Budd who shared my birthday but not my height, absolutely knew what she wanted to do when she grew up.  At six, while I was busy coloring the white polar bear on my red shirt with a broken yellow crayon because the polar bear appeared chilly without the golden sun shining on it, she was busy telling me that when she grew up she wanted to be a family therapist and play basketball in her spare time.

 

Six years old, guys.

 

Six.

 

Jesus.

 

I mean, I have no idea what she does as an adult because I haven't seen her in person since we were fourteen but I'm pretty sure her degree qualifies her to do this in some fashion and that she has been photographed playing basketball more than anyone else I know. And I think that's a pretty sweet deal.

 

That's never been me. People tend to tell me what I should be doing and I just look at them strangely.  You should be an actress, they said.  You should dance and sing on stage.  Go make us proud.

 

And I look at them like, "I don't know about you, but I really like watching TV and reading books and coloring with crayons."

 

And as an adult I kind of get what they mean.  I mean I enjoy dancing like nothing else, and singing is second to that.  If my wedding was karaoke flash-mob themed, I wouldn't complain that it's tacky and wrong.

 

But I've never really enjoyed dance class. I always ended up in classes with some prima donna cheerleader jerks who'd ask me lots of meaningful and friendly questions about my talent and dance technique such as, "Why does your costume have two seams when mine only has one?"

 

 ... and "Do people in your family have to take a lot of paternity tests?"

 

as well as, "Did you know you look exactly like Marilyn Manson?"

 

My parents also worried about why I mysteriously withdrew and kept to myself in my teens.

Wedding/Play/Reflection

WEDDING

Christine and Jeff's wedding reception was part dance party, part ice cream social, part cupcake orgy, part outdoor gala, part photobooth, part indoor sit-down meal, 100% fantastic.

 

And I thought it was Sunday, but it wasn't... oops. (And I still need and would like to get them a gift. I love my Miloro part of my family just as much, if not more, than my side of the family and therefore I need to get them something nice. Pretty sure I'd be a lonely and bitter classless buttface without them in my life. I'm serious.)

 

Anyway, we eventually got there and stayed as long as we could until we realized we had to drive from Baltimore to Greenbelt AND feed our cat, so we left about 15 minutes before the wedding ended.

 

But not before we got our picture taken!  Aren't we cute?

 

PLAY

Big River so happens to be a play based off of the great American novel The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, one of the most awkward stories in the world as it highlights the late 1800s social injustice of slavery in the United States.  And the N word.

 

But the musical is pretty extraordinary.  I got to hear one of my dearest friends, David, sing and dance and be goofy for a large part of the play and he did such a good job that sometimes I forgot I was there to see him and instead just enjoyed the show.  Immensely. The whole cast should be proud of their accomplishment.

 

REFLECTION

I've been thinking a lot lately on whether or not Greg and I will be having a wedding after I graduate, maybe in 2016. Or if that's too long to wait. When we got married last year at the courthouse, it was maybe the opposite of how I wanted things to be.  I've always wanted a small outdoor affair with lots of dancing and a crab feast. But I don't know where.  I wanted it to be a backyard thing but now I'm thinking that a park would be more appropriate. I think a park would be perfect, especially a place like Sandy Point.  I'm thinking a crab feast and cookout with benches, some outdoor karaoke, dancing, and games. No idea if I'd ever be able to afford any of that, but I can see all of us just being awesome in a park one day and I'm going to leave it at that for now.

 

I'm afraid of what could happen if we wait too long--who could be there and who couldn't.  I just feel like after I graduate would be best.

OH NO SCHOOL STARTS SOON. HELP! OH HELP!

Hi, I have anxiety disorder and have had it my whole life because apparently I'm reincarnated from Wade the Duck from Garfield and friends.

I like talking about it on social media and through blogging because I feel like our society thinks mental health issues are a big taboo when most of the time they're a pretty common thing and I get tired of acting like my anxiety disorder is a big damned secret or even that big of a deal.

Even among my friends supporting me and cheering me on, even with it being my goal, even with all of my determination, last night I had a meltdown.

Most of this week I've done a lot of preparation.  I've streamlined my morning routine so I'm out the door on time with makeup on (!) hair styled, and fruit to take with me. I've been to the store each afternoon to pick up things I'm probably going to need throughout the semester. I've begun walking at work so when I'm home that's one less thing I have to worry about.

Well last night I left the damn macaroni salad at the store and it was oddly this which sent me over the edge into a full meltdown.

My anxieties about school are at full speed.  Of course they are.  I have anxiety disorder and maybe a little bit OCD (not the cleany bug kind) and it is unmedicated because when I medicate my anxiety I fall into depressions ... even when I medicate it with anti-depressants. And when I medicate my ADHD I get anxiety.  And when they mis-diagnose it as bipolar disorder (because holy shit psychiatrists think everyone has bipolar disorder and ADHD) and attempt to medicate that, I sleep all the time and feel like a drugged mess. So I go around driving myself nuts all the time and it is wicked awesome, you know, having your mind constantly racing with negative thoughts worried you're actually a psycho murderer or a child abuser or a toxic person to be around (I'm none of these things, anxiety disorder, so why are we worrying) and feeling a ton of guilt for no reason at all.

Anyway, school. I just don't feel like studying at night!  I haven't even been able to keep up with my orientation class. 

And my life is still not exactly a well-oiled machine of efficiency. Our floors need cleaning. The counter tops are a travesty. My room continues to be quite awful.  And now it's just going to get worse with school, I know it.

My dad hasn't so much as called me since I called him in June 2011 to tell him my grandmother was recovering from a stroke. I haven't seen my parents since just before my stepdad's father passed two weeks ago which was the saddest thing ever, and I haven't seen my poor stepdad since Valentine's Day when he drove over from his job to give me a Valentine's Day card from him and my mom. And I just feel bad about all of that which is just dumb.

I'm worried about what Relay for Life is going to be like because I last did it in 2011 and really, really, really hated it.  I mean REALLY HATED IT and then last year when I wanted to go to show support for my friends who worked so hard, I smashed my toe and sprained it and split the toenail and couldn't even drive there. And I know it's going to be fun for the few hours I'm there this year, but because my church is sponsoring it I'm worried they're going to want to talk religion with me when I lean far more towards agnostic these days and THAT is driving me nuts. Like, I don't want them to be mad at me or want them to think I'm challenging their beliefs or feel threatened by me in any way
whatsoever.

And when I come home from work each day, most of that day wasted in fear that someone is going to snap their gum in my damned ear (which everyone I sit around loves to do for some reason and it sends me straight into a panic attack), I'm so exhausted from that and my actual job that I just want to lay down and sleep.  And play on Facebook. And make sure my friends are OK on Twitter. And look up better ideas to fix my life. And listen to the birds chirping outside and the breeze rustling the leaves in the backyard.

My brain has been twirling around and around until it finally became too dizzy to function and broke over leaving macaroni salad at the store.

So I was crying over my missing macaroni salad and I eventually fried up my mushrooms and I remembered how freaking miraculous fried white button mushrooms are in curing cancer.  And as I hate-watched Glee (GOD EVERY EPISODE IS WORSE THAN THE LAST, DAMN MY CRUSHES ON EVERY SINGLE CAST MEMBER) and realized how much time I waste on watching that boring terrible train wreck show with horrible writing that somehow got renewed for two more seasons while other fantastic shows with better ratings whose writers did not completely ruin its storylines and characters were canceled, I realized it's not the end of the damned world.

Life is what you make it.  I may have made yesterday evening a mess of tears for no reason, but tonight might be delicious.  Who knows, I might enjoy school.  Why is it something to fear and dread?  Why are all the things I enjoy filled with fear and dread all the time?

Maybe one day I'll be a clearer, more concise writer so some of this crap I'm putting down in this blog makes a lick of sense. 

I'm going to end this post with a FAB Friday to point out the positive parts of this entry!

*In an amazing attempt at procrastination, I learned last night how to trim my lady parts. Not THOSE lady parts, but the girly sideburns you get when you put your hair up in a sock bun.

*I have amazing cheerleaders in my Facebook and Twitter friends and I want to round them up and do a flash mob with them.

*Mushrooms are way healthier than macaroni salad.

*I have streamlined my sunblock/foundation/powder/blush/mascara/eyeshadow/lipstick routine to ten minutes.

*I continue to wash my face with honey and it works about as well as any soap.  It hasn't cured my acne or anything, but my face doesn't feel super dry after using it.

* I realize my anxieties are pretty dumb and lame and not really based in reality.

*I get to live somewhere with constant birdsong and peace and quiet.

*Mushrooms, which I can have even with my acid reflux, unlike peppers and onions and tomatoes, are every bit as healthy as vegetables are.  Pretty fly for a fungi.

*The terrible writing of Glee makes me realize how dumb my anxieties are, so at least hate-watching Glee has a purpose.

*I am progressively improving my walking/running speed.  I can now make it around the track twice in the same amount of time I was making around the track 1.5 times last week. 

I have a big weekend ahead of me with a wedding and a play to attend and it's going to be sunny!  That should be part of the list but it's not because I'm not really sure how to end this post and it seems weird ending it with a list.

Okay bye!

Makeup

Okay, my new makeup is pretty rad.  I just want to play makeup all day. And I am really digging the big old gray streak in my bangs. Makes me want to grow my bangs out and see where the gray streak leads.

I feel very vain today and instead of posting a stream of selfies I combined a few.

My face has changed, but I do not mind being thirty.  I want to live a long long time. I was thinking today that people my age lament about how much time has passed since their youthful days of partying and adventure.  I am okay that time has passed. I know it may pass overwhelmingly quickly.  Everything is much more temporary than it used to seem. There are many things I dislike about the passage of time. Just when I seem to be getting to know and enjoy someone they either die or the relationship ends. That has been the hardest to accept, that even good things are temporary. My face is temporary, and so is yours. I will love yours always.

STOP WORRYING ABOUT HAVING A FAT BODY - A pep talk to myself

(ATTN: I am not a lifestyle guru and am not a doctor. But if you need to give a pep talk to yourself, feel free to use mine. - J)

DEAR JENNY,

STOP WORRYING ABOUT HAVING A FAT BODY.

STOP IT RIGHT NOW.

I know you're here thinking, "Oh god, oh god, I'm on my way to obesity and I'm going to die because I weigh too much and my stomach is too big and I may as well eat myself into a heart attack now because it's too late for me!"

And I'm going to tell you that it's OK and to keep going.  Just because someone is putting their health issues and hang ups on you does not mean that has to be your story.  No, it doesn't!

I wish someone had told me that sooner.

I was 14 years old when I first learned of a formula that tells you if you're fat. I sitting at our dark brown round kitchen table eating a bowl of Wheaties and reading a health magazine while my father sketched my face in charcoal across from me. My weight had fluctuated in the last several months, as my body had changed more and I had grown taller. Instead of being all limbs from not eating on purpose, I now had a shape. I felt fat, as my waist circumference had ballooned from a number in the teens to 28 inches and I had gained 20 lbs, weighing 138. At 5 foot 5, I really wanted to lose ten pounds as I felt huge.  I was relieved to hear I was at a healthy weight after doing the calculation, not aware that at 14 years of age I was too young for it to apply to me.

Now that I am older, I know that the BMI calculation is a piss poor measurement of obesity. At age 21, I was still 5 foot 5 and 138 lbs with a waist circumference of 29 and high blood pressure, but my pants were a good two sizes smaller than I was at fourteen. In fact, the pants I wore at age 14 didn't fit me again until I gained 40 more lbs and was officially "obese" ... as my hips and thighs were much larger when I was fourteen. 

There have been times at 178 lbs where I've had a waist measurement of 29 and times where it was much higher, closer to 35.

It wasn't until I hit over 200 and then 230 that the BMI scale seemed accurate, with my waist measurement exceeding 50 inches at age 25, and with that my blood pressure climbed into the stratosphere, its measurement becoming its own planet along with my belly.

Therefore I am not sure why I pay attention to my weight fluctuations rather than my tape measurer. Apparently if I weigh over 240 lbs at my height it does not matter what my waist size is; I am at an extremely high risk for disease at that weight. I am also considered at very high risk for disease if I weigh over 210 lbs no matter what my waist size is, which I currently do.

However, as long as I weigh less than 150 lbs, I am not at risk for disease no matter what my body looks like.

To me, that is complete bullshit.

Central obesity is central obesity, no matter what your weight. There are many dangerous reasons to have excess weight around the middle and many of these reasons are deadly, usually a reaction to stress hormones destroying your DNA.

BUT! As long as we are taking care of our bodies, WHO CARES what your numbers are, what your measurements are, what you look like?  Why are we constantly telling people negative things about their bodies expecting their bodies to magically change for the better?  All we're doing is telling ourselves bad things and getting ourselves all worked up, and for what?

I see no reason to scare people into thinking they're dying of obesity. Why should we go around lamenting, "Oh no, my fat, my fat, I'm so ashamed, I must lose my fat!"

I would do awful and terrible things to be able to have healthy internal organs, which many people already have at EVERY WEIGHT.

At my very thinnest, my numbers were absolute crap, but I have been considered "obese" at a size 12 with perfect numbers afterwards.

Right now, nothing is good concerning my health. I'm hoping that's only for now. I do not worry about it, because I am on the right track and making healthier choices all the time.  Whatever my body composition changes to while I continue to exercise daily and try my best to get some damned vegetables and water in me and avoid junk food is not something I wish to worry about any longer.

And I don't want you to worry about it either.

So knock it off. Sure, pay attention to your numbers, your cholesterol, your blood pressure, your blood sugar no matter who you are or what you're doing.

All that matters is that you're doing the best you can to take care of yourself and be healthy.

You're allowed to love yourself for who you are.

Now go outside and play.