It's gotten good responses via facebook (which I'll check from home--is blocked at work, and yes, I have a FB shutupit'sallJaime'sfault) and a really lovely compliment via email.
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I think Kurt Cobain is the closest my generation (X, bitches) had to an Elvis or a John Lennon. My dad remembers where he was when he heard about the death of both of those legends. I think most people in my generation remember the moment they heard about Cobain's death. I was in the passenger seat of JD's car, driving up to my parents' house for the weekend when we caught a static-infused blip on KROQ (we weren't yet completely in range) saying something about Kurt Cobain. I turned to JD and said, "I bet he fucking killed himself." Once that was confirmed, I added, "I wonder how many kids will off themselves now?" Thankfully, it was far fewer than I anticipated. I never got a chance to see Nirvana live. It's my one true concert regret.
I wasn't devastated at the news of his death. I expected it, really. I saw the signs there. I was just beginning to really acknowledge the bloom of my own depression and while I could understand his thought processes and the reasoning behind his actions, I didn't fully grasp why I could do either of those things. It's only recently, within the last few months, that I've really started digging into more his biography. The spark began with a dream I had in which I was convinced I could have saved him. It was one of those dreams that haunts me long after I've woken up, still haunts me now. I knew there had to be a reason my brain gave me that dream at that time, but I couldn't get past the ghosts to see what that reason was.
Recently, Shannon and I were going over a dream she had, trying to suss out her brain's reasons for sending a particular dream her way. I had an insight or two that surely stems from years of therapy (PB is big into dreams--I haven't told her about the Cobain dream because I want to keep it untouched) and told her a little more about my recent Cobain dream. Neither of us had an epiphany within our emails; there was no "ah ha!!" with pointed finger and illuminated lightbulb to signify that this--THIS--is the reason we had those dreams. Just two friends talking it out with one another.
A few days after that email exchange, I was walking from my living room to my bedroom and caught a glance at the curtains in The Area when it hit me. The reason for my Kurt dream, or more specifically, who Kurt was representing in my dream. An old friend of mine, a member of the 16 Club that was disturbingly popular when I was in high school (although his was not a self-induction to the club), technically an ex boyfriend of mine and probably the only person I'd ever deem worthy of the title of "soulmate." (I suppose I'll find out the accuracy of that adjudication when I leave this body.) The lightbulb hit me more like a tidal wave of cinder blocks than a triumphant "ah ha!" It was trailed by a tinkley breeze of chuckles, an emotional spritzing of Bactine on a fresh, stinging scrape.
I'd lost touch with his mother a year or so after his death. She left my childhood town and I was in college by then. It was probably easier for her to heal without the surrounding reminders of him. The last time I saw her was on what would have been his 17th birthday. I remember sitting at her feet on the floor with a few of his other friends, all of us crying. That night, I dedicated my senior project for my television production class to him.
I did some research and discovered that his mother is now living fewer than 200 miles away from me in Killeen. How did it happen that we moved to the same general area of this giant country? I'm still bewildered at discovering that she's so close, considering we're over 1,500 miles from where it all happened. I haven't decided whether or not I'll make contact; I'm waiting for more guidance on that.
Perhaps Kurt will pay me another visit tonight.
]]>I won "MVP" of my team last Friday during the bowling ramp up. We also locked into last place, score-wise. I know I helped with that a lot too. (Hey, we got a prize for it! But really, it's just that I suck at bowling.) I'm not sure what I did to deserve the MVP aside from ham-up without a lick of shame (stick-on mustache!) and dance to the music that was playing, but I'll take it! I won a bowling pin. That might not sound like a big deal to anyone else, but I like quirky shit like that. I was looking on ebay for bowling pins a few years ago. So now I have one. I have to think of some other quirky object I must have now.
The diet continues. I was up last week and a little confused about it, as I'd been pretty damn good (aside from a visit to Meat Church). I weighed again Friday night on a lark and fully clothed, I weighed less than I did that morning. So I decided it was a fluke, some trickery by my body to keep me from getting smug or something. In any case, I'm not bothered by it. It won't be the last time the numbers go up. Another number that's up is my grocery budget. Crispy McFuckcheese, fresh food is expensive! I find it irritating that a pound of cherries (roughly $5 last Sunday) is more expensive than a "value" meal at most fast food places. I don't really consider the grease, heartburn, and fat ass that come with that meal to be a "value" but it's cheaper than a bowl of cherries and there's something inherently wrong with that.
I tend to do my grocery shopping on Sunday afternoons, which is a little stupid. I bring my shuffle, throw in my earbuds and bop through the aisles, ignoring all the fussy children, exasperated mothers, and idiot men who don't seem to understand how grocery stores work. It helps keep me from strangling strangers in my way. I'd like to switch it over to a week night, but I'm stocked up right now and my weeknights will be few and far between soon. Plus, then I'll miss Wheel of Fortune and the opportunity to laugh gleefully at the people who buy obvious vowels and then hit bankrupt immediately. (Frivolous vowel purchase infuriates me. Shut up.)
So I've noticed that I don't get nearly as much heartburn as I used to. I figured that would happen as my weight went down but I haven't really shed that much and the difference is staggering to me. Obviously, there's something to this "eating better" thing, even if it's not the most fun. I noticed I was walking a little differently today. It's a walk that I recognise from a long time ago; I don't know how to explain it, but I do hope that it sticks around. When I was hitting the gym daily (sometimes twice) when we first moved to Texas, I had this silly habit of mashing all the fat on my belly into a ball shape. (I know, it sounds nuts.) I remember that ball getting smaller and smaller as I went to the gym. At my thinnest point, my hands touched each other around that little ball. My hands are still very far apart in the belly smoosh exercise now. I want that little ball back.
]]>Technically, I think busy season has already started. We've changed procedures drastically. Again. Lost 2 admins in a week. A lot more steps to each return. Hundreds of new returns on my team alone. Simply put, I'm scared. I anticipate overtime will begin next week and we'll be diving straight into 60 hour weeks. The money will be excellent, as will the lack of spending it because I am always at work. I'm frightened of the fatigue and the breakdows and the inevitable fuck ups that I am obligated to own up to, even if they aren't mine. I'm just anxious.
I was so exhausted today at work. Didn't sleep well last night. Crazy week. Just exhausted. Took an ambien early tonight so I could go to bed early except it's already got its fingers on my brain.
I'm alive. Sleepy. Pilled. Zzzzz. Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
]]>Not bad, eh? Especially since I didn't feel like I got a whole lot done!
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How'm I doing?
]]>Well lookie there--it works! Okay, I knew that. I didn't expect five pounds for sure, but I'm quite happy with it! I know I won't always get big weeks like that--it might be my only real big week, even. It's enough to give me a boost in confidence though and I will take that and run with it! I lost a daily point (33 now, instead of 34) but so far, hunger hasn't really been an issue so I don't think I'll miss that point. Plus, I barely dipped into my "Weekly Points" (which are weird, spare points that you can use if you have eaten all your points for the day and still are hungry, or if you're eating out or whatever--I think they're the craving points) and when I did, it was last night and I ate fewer than 5 of 49 points.
In other news, I have hooked up with a social media guru at MD Anderson and have signed on to write some blog-style posts/pieces about my experience with cancer. They'll eventually appear on the CancerWise.org website. I've got a list of things I want to write about (as it's proving to be good therapy) but I'd also love to hear requests. Anyone got something you'd want me to write about? Nothing's really too taboo (C'mon--y'all know me by now!!) and I'd love to hear what people would like to read about in addition to what I've already put down in my little idea book. I won't be changing my writing style much--they like that I'm candid and not stuffy. I'll have to tone down the cussing of course, but I am a creative girl and don't see a problem with that. Plus, the guru I've been emailing with has already read this site, so she knows I've got a sailor's filthy mouth; it's not like I've got to hide that side of me, just choose different words for their site. I'll also have to edit my rambling into shorter posts. That was a given too. Blah blah blah.....
My weekends are going to start dwindling soon. This is going to be one of my last before April, I think. I've got a list of things to do that's longer than my leg. I'm short but I write small, so that's a long list. I may not even get half of it finished but there are a few key things that must be done this weekend. I've become a lot better at not getting frustrated by half-completed lists. It's great to swipe out all the things on the page, but I recognise my tendency to go a little nutso when making lists. (i.e. LIST ALL THE THINGS!!) I've also started doing things on the list after work. Thanks for the suggestions for organisation--the 15 minutes here, 15 minutes there helps a lot. Also, not sitting down. And the thing that really has helped this week: my cable going out.
Yeah, I have no cable right now. Just the local channels. Local programming is really bad y'all. And flipping (I'm a channel flipper--ADD--look, a butterfly!) is far less satisfying when I have only channels 2 through 13 to flip through and more than half of those are in Spanish. I guess my cable company did a switchy thinger so now I need one of their cable conversion boxes. Similar to the one everyone did a year or two ago. The box is free and has been sent to my house--just waiting for it to arrive. In the meantime, no Bravo, no E Network, no VH1, no A&E.... It seriously limits television watching, which aided me in getting things done. I'm considering ponying up for a DVR through my cable company. It would also help with getting things done. And also, being a lazy butt when that's preferable. Plus, I want to be able to record all the gymnastics this summer.
I've been sketching a bit at night. Some from books of poses that I have, some from poses in my head. I haven't been doing the photo-realism drawing for those, just quick, gestural sketches meant to flesh out what I'm trying to convey at the moment. I don't need these to be perfect. I'm looking for ways (and finding them) to quickly scribble out what I'd like to work on for a final product. Drafting, I guess. It's nice to know that I can quickly scribble things that make sense to me. It may just look like a messy stick figure to someone else, but I know it's the base for a more detailed drawing that is to come later. The people are easier than the things. I am still being mocked by a pair of pants I'm trying to get right. Go figure.
]]>I'm not hungry which is nice. I only slightly worry about getting all my Points in (I promise this will not become a Pointsapalooza type space) but since I can eat all the fruit and veg I want, that takes the edge off the snacky cravings. Those tend to be my downfall. A coworker asked if I wanted to order from a restaurant today and I declined. I wanted to but didn't think it would be the best idea. Of course, I just looked up what I would have ordered and it's one point fewer than what I actually ate for lunch.
My energy reserves today are low. I feel a little out of it. I know this is just the "learning curve" from beginning the diet/lifestyle/whatever. I've felt this detox from refined sugar before--and I do truly believe it's an addiction. I know it will pass. I'm just going to be a little stupid during the transition. And I'll have more fantasies about hurling staplers at the cheery, close-talking, morning person at work who is really nice but even on a good day drives me a little bonkers. She's in no real danger. Actually picking up the stapler and throwing it is more energy than I can muster up while I try to convince my body that it does not need a cupcake.
I so want a damn cupcake. And we'll be having a bunch delivered on Friday for the January birthdays. Technically, I'll already have weighed for the week, but I don't want to really start that trap of binging and then trying to make up for it. I'm hoping they have nuts on them. Or gravel. Or are all banana flavoured. Or that worthless whippy-shit frosting that tastes like diabetic glucose and disappointment.
]]>I keep snacks in a cabinet for my team at work. I bagged up my boss's favourite chips early in the week so each baggie is 150 calories. I also did it with the baked Cheetos. And then I made up a calorie list and taped it to the inside of the cabinet--everything that's in the cabinet is listed. We've got some runners on our team as well as calorie counters and they seem to like to know what they're putting in their mouths. By kinda "catering" to them, I'm also helping myself along. I'll use anything I can right now.
While I was doing all my treatments over the summer, the nurses were glad that I came in fat because they wouldn't have to worry about me wasting away to nothing. We laughed about how I wasn't fat, I was prepared to fight cancer. Well, now that I'm officially cancer-free, I'm back to just fat and that's not really okay anymore. I know that cancer cells tend to be fat and sugar fed and I don't want to give them any more ammunition to come back. The first two years seem to have the biggest relapse occurence but they measure me on a five year scale: if I go five years without a recurrence, I'm considered "cured." I'd like to achieve that and I know it's a lot more likely if I take better care of myself. And hey--maybe I'll get laid again!
I was examining my navel earlier this week (what, you don't?!) and it appeared that the piercing hole from when I was about 20 remained unsealed. I haven't had jewelry in that piercing since the night before my surgery, August 4. You probably can see where this is going. (My mom is probably cringing.) I grabbed an old ring and slipped it through--tada! Okay, so the ring currenly in the hole is a gauge smaller than my original navel ring (which is actually in my rook piercing) but it's holding nicely. A little tender and sore at times, but it's strangely comforting to have it back in. I was going to just leave the piercing out, let it close, and move on--I have a scar that runs right up to the top hole and it's not especially attractive. However, seeing the little flash of silver in my belly reminds me of my 20s, San Diego, and when my body was rockin, even if I didn't know it then. So I'm leaving it in for now.
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