carbs taste good so i am fat

I'm trying to be a bit more social these days.  Leave the house now and again.  Unfortunately, leaving the house makes sticking to the diet a lot harder than it should be.  Especially when the place I'm going to has a beer menu like this.  I'd wanted to lose at least another 15 lbs. before New York, but I'm not thinking that's going to happen.  I forsee a lot of carbs in my future tonight.  Delicious, bubbly, holy carbs.  I suppose I should be easier on myself.  I've lost 31 lbs.  I've stalled a little recently with the going out shit, but I've still lost 31 lbs.  People at work are even noticing now.  If you can get an accountant to notice anything other than an esoteric tax law, you're doing pretty well.  (I don't know if that's true.  But the majority of the ones here fit that lame analogy, actually.)

Didn't get to work on the tattoo last night.  A new girl space friend of mine had an emergency brownie need, so I set to making a batch post-haste.  And while I was waiting for them to bake, I made bon bons with the leftover bits I've had in the freezer.  Before I knew it, midnight was here.  I'm meeting said girl space friend for the brownie hand off, where we will imbibe and talk shit on her ex.  (What?  That's what we do.  We're women.)  I brought plastic cutlery in case she needs to dip in right quick.  But hopefully, I'll be able to bust out a rudimentary design while I wait for her.

small update

I had what I refer to as a New York weekend this past weekend.  The kind of weekend that was so good, it was like being in New York.  It was needed and I'm glad to have had it.  Things have been dark lately.  I'm on a new pill; we're working on it.

I'm going to New York for my birthday this year.  I'm spending 9 days there--a proper vacation.  My birthday's in the middle of the week so I figured I may as well just go weekend to weekend.  Amanda has been plotting out things for us to do (as if we ever lack options!)  We've got a list going back and forth that I suspect is about to take a turn for the silly, considering a conversation we had earlier today.  

My birthday is on a Wednesday this year.  That was the one day that I insisted a few things happen.  Fluevog store, natch.  Candy Factory wall, right by the Fluevog store, so convenient there.  Possibly a Spring Lounge stop, since we'll be right there.  And now I'm researching tattoo shops.  I think I'm finally going to get a real tattoo.  Technically, I have three, but they're simply dots, done in a cancer clinic to line up lasers to zap my inner bits.  I think I finally want to jump in and get a tattoo I've been thinking about since the mid-90s.  I think I could carry it off better now that I've got life under my feet, stories to share, and some bullshit that I've overcome.  (No, I'm not going to say what it is just yet.)  It's simple, but could be difficult because I'd like it along a painful area to ink.  I'm going to draw out a rough sketch of it tonight.  I'm researching artists as well.  I believe it will be in black and grey, but I'm open to a few pops of earthy toned colour if the artist thinks it would make the piece.

So uh, sorry Mom.  But yeah, I think I'm getting a tattoo.  Don't tell Dad the horse fell in the pool, okay?

the drain

I've been at a loss with what to write lately, mainly because my mood has been dipping.  No tangible reason that I can think of; suddenly, everything just zooms in and dives.  It's unsettling because I fear I'm going to get stuck in the hole, that the depression is circling me like a shark and just waiting for the moment to really take a good chomp.  It's the new, improved version of depression with more fear, more dread, more lonliness. 

That last one is what's really getting to me, I think.  I've been pretty good at compartmentalising everything (which is not technically on the approved list of coping skills) that had to do with lonliness until relatively recently.  I can't blame it specifically on him, but as Hendrix (heretofore unmentioned) has been added to my circle of close friends, it's becoming more apparent to me that I need more real, human interaction.  As I said, it isn't his fault.  It's just something that seems to be a sticking point in my brain these days, most likely stemming from shooting the shit with him. 

So I try to do what I always do: compartmentalise.  And as I try to stuff the feelings back into tupperware and huck them up on the high shelf, bits keep slipping through my fingers.  They then trigger The Voices to start up.  The Voices are those bastards inside my head that constantly tell me I suck in explicit detail.  They've been working overtime lately.  I had the audacity to believe something potentially positive recently and that threw them into overdrive.  That positive has been wiped out, the earth scorched, and landminds installed just for good measure.  How dare I have a shred of hope?!

I'm seeing PB tonight where I'll no doubt hash this all out and leave with a red, puffy face.  But those Voices--I fear they're probably in for the long haul.

We interrupt this Sunday for some safety!

I'm on the back patio of the Pants Ranch right now. It's a gorgeous Sunday afternoon, I'm in a rocking chair; having a safety meeting, drinking an iced coffee.

I'm also wearing a staple outfit from the last chunk of time I spent on this patio, in a rocking chair, having a safety meeting, drinking diet ginger ale. My narwhal vs. Unicorn shirt, which is bleachy around the collar, my ugly denim capris that could double as pants for Danny DeVito, my red sandals. This is the last time I'll wear this outfit; mainly because it's too damn big now (yay!) but also because this outfit sucks. This outfit represents suckitude now. Impeached!

(I came here to water tomato plants and feed cats. I didn't come here to have feelings, goddammit.)

I should probably go back inside and apologise to Lola for kinda kicking her in the face to keep her from going outside. Her fault though. I told her. Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

money. money. zzzzzz....

86.25 hours last week. 

We get Thursday and Friday off.  I'm about to ask for Wednesday as well.  This is madness.