Tremendous Blondette

I’ve lived in attached housing for past 4 years. Though I now pay a mortgage instead of monthly rent, I still share walls with other people. For the most part, I don’t hear much from either side. Occasionally, I hear the click click of high heels on floor, or children wailing (only happened once.) That said, there are several things I hope my neighbors never hear from me.

1. Me, screaming in pain or from being startled by a cat. This happens at least once a week. They have sharp little claws and they know impaling me with them will get me to stop what I’m doing and focus on them.
2. Blowing my nose – because I blow it loud and proud and sound sort of like an elephant. It’s a cute thing I get from my dad.
3. Farting. Whether on the can or off. I fart. A lot. Sorry, but it’s true. My whole family on my mom’s side has colon things and/or weird food allergies. I tend to eat a lot of fiber to make sure I keep my colon as healthy as possible. Fiber results in farts. Ask Brian.
4. My cats yowling. Mainly Oliver. He’s a snowshoe which is a breed known for being “talkative.”
5. Me yowling in reply back at my cats. Okay, this is 99% Oliver and he requires vocal communication to locate the party. aka, me. aka, the other two cats because they all tend to want to be in the same room as me, particularly if it’s bed time, meal time, shower time, or potty time. Yes, cats are weird.
6. My music/tv/appliances. I don’t want to be rude! But sometimes a girl’s gotta groove!
7. My smoke alarms/detectors. I have 5 in my house. They chirp every minute if the battery is low. It’s usually at 3 or 4am and requires me to get on a ladder in my underwear half asleep. In the case of the one in my bedroom, it requires me on a ladder with a stick because it’s so high up that I can’t reach it without a stick and even then, I have to do some jimmying magic. (and tweet and Facebook about it) I had to ask my brother to re-attach the damn thing when he was here, (and even he had to stand on the top allowed rung of the ladder!) because there was no way the stick was going to reattach the wires and spin the thing back in place. Thanks again Brian.

There are things I’m okay with my neighbors hearing. If I’m yelling during a major televised sporting event, that’s cool if they hear it. It proves I have interests and a life and I’m well rounded and not just a girl who buys makeup and hangs out on the internet. It might also show them we have something in common if they are watching the same sporting event. We might bond! I also don’t care if they hear the vacuum cleaner or shop vac. I always wait until at least 10am and never vac after 10pm, but it lets them know I’m a mature adult. Shush. So, maybe I just bought the vacuum last weekend, but I totally had one (2, usually broken) at my apartment. And don’t forget the shopvac.

Saturday morning. Snow.  Too much snow. Bright and glaring on my TV screen as I watch an “artistic” movie which contrasts the snow in a way that makes me uncomfortable. (PS. Unfortunately, I cannot recommend you view New York, I Love You) (I can recommend you buy a blu-ray player that allows you to use Netflix Instant Queue. Life changing. Thank you Bob! -yeah, I didn’t  buy mine; it was a birthday gift from the world’s best stepdad.)

All the things I thought about this week are still hanging out in my mind. What workout should I do? Oh, I didn’t work out. I should send something spontaneous to my dad and his family out East. I should tell them how I feel. I should send something to my Oma and see how she is doing. I should let her know I give a damn and I think about her every day. I should call my mom more. I should clean a little bit. I should put the rest of the rooms in my house “together.” I shouldn’t eat the cookies. Dang it – I ate the cookies, but they were such a nice compliment to the coffee! Of which I drank an entire pot. I should work on having more sex. Oh, guess it’s been a while. Hmm. I should work on not embarrassing myself on my blog.

Knowing that my hormones are fluxing, I must continually repeat “I control how I feel.” I’m a big believer in cognitive behavioral therapy as a way of life. You feel something and you give yourself a chance to feel it, and then you say “Um, is this how I WANT to feel?” and you change it if it’s not. Because you can control a lot more than you think you can simply through your mindset and attitude. (it doesn’t always work and it’s really hard, like really hard, but it sure helps)

In this case, I happened to check my work email and saw a couple things that just hit me wrong and from there I felt the cortisol shoot straight to my belly fat. Shit. And then…”I control how I feel.” I bound up my stairs to shower and dress and say “F U snow! My ass is going to Sephora and you can’t stop me!” Because new makeup will help me control how I feel. X dollars later…I felt better! It worked! Perhaps I was influenced by Confessions of a Shopaholic…perhaps. But, it is unhealthy to use old cosmetics and what I bought is much better for my skin and I look radiant and my eyes pop and I feel pretty again.

And feeling pretty helps ease the knots and tears.

I love puns and coffee. This is the full picture that goes with the thumbnail for the post. It's my punny snowman coffee mug.

Sometimes I think I’m pretty clever. One out of nine attempts at humor actually turn out to be funny to someone other than me and I’m validated.

I’ve been having trouble sleeping during the week lately. I tend to stay up to all hours working or “interneting” and really only sleep on Friday night, often falling asleep on my couch obscenely early in the night and staying in bed until 8 or 9am.

My Oliver cat keeps peeing on my laundry. Full on pop a squat and pee. I’m not sure why he’s doing this, but he does it right in front of me. The full set up and everything arranging the clothes and making a little pee nest. It’s gross. And I’ve had to throw away some clothes.

I was bused in the Kansas City Missouri School District in the 1980’s as part of their court ordered desegregation project. Too many white kids at the local school, so they needed to spread us out and mix us up. At one point, I was the only white kid in the entire school. They moved me to my local school when a spot opened so I didn’t have to go so far to school. At one point I took a taxi to school – and tonight I met someone on Twitter who was taxi-ed too! The whole KCMSD thing is top of mind based on their current school closing initiative. Why can’t they get it right? All those abandoned school buildings will be great assets to the communities!

How do you keep a blonde occupied for hours? Give her a bag of M&Ms and tell her to alphabetize them.

*groan*

I used M&Ms as study aids in college which became a bad habit. But when you’re sitting at a desk for hours, composing, editing, typing, trying to stay focused and productive (though your productively has always been bursty) you need something to do to stay away and use your fidgety energy. I can sit down and easily eat half a 12 oz bag of Almond of Peanut in one sitting. They start to lose their original deliciousness, but you keep popping them in, hoping that the next one will bring that same first delight.

This is a confession of a bad habit. It’s so unhealthy and I’m telling you about it because I just ate a fraction of a bag of M&Ms for no reason. I’m starting to think I’ve got some sort of chemical imbalance right now because I’m always wanting to eat.

Sometimes I don’t want to eat. Not lately. Lately all I can think about is food. I’m torn between whether this is stress induced – a comforting mechanism or just a simply my body being confused.

I know I write about food, body image, and exercise a lot. I am kicking around starting a separate blog to write about this quest. When I did so well those 5 years ago, part of my success was the community I had where I could talk about my struggles and accomplishments. The other factor was my LiveJournal for recording thoughts and feelings. Granted, it was a lot easier to devote my life to this when I was only working part time (well at the end I was working 40 hrs a week but that seems like part time to me now) and I could get up and work out at my optimal time (10am – 2pm; kinda hard to fit that into a normal work week.)

What do you think? Separate blog, or keep it here?

And that picture? It’s from my brother’s wedding. I’m the fat one of course!

In all my laziness, I seem to have given up cooking. This evening I was craving a grilled chicken breast and was hopeful when I saw them at my local Price Chopper. I’ve had delicious grilled breastes from the downtown market and really hoped maybe the same would be true for my northland branch. Nope.

I ate half of it caveman style but alas, it may become a cat treat.

Don’t cry for me though – I ate .6lbs of Asian Slaw (aka cabbage.) Cry for you because whew! cabbage.

A phenomena that I’ve observed since adulthood – things I would say, do, or feel are different based on the time of day. I don’t wake up wanting to go to happy hour in the evening. I feel like sitting in my big red chair with coffee and my laptop until my own odor motivates me to bathe.

What I write in a post is different based on the time of day and I often work on a post several times before I actually publish it so it gets some of the morning me and nighttime me. Balance, just for you. *wink*

I am much more forthright at night or after half a pot of coffee. (or 10 drinks) I’ve discovered an inability to share specific thoughts and feelings only in certain situations. Work and family – you got it. Friends and “friends” – there is a hesitation at times – a fear.

That same shield I use in those relationships covers this blog. I could write with greater directness and clarity at times, but to what end?

When I was 10, 12, 18, who knows at this point, I used to soak up the sunshine with CMT or the radio and just absorb the time. Today, as I work through all of the clothing and linens I own (Day 2!) it’s the same feeling – years later, my gut hurts, my lungs twitch, and my eyes water. Looking through my cousin’s pictures on Facebook, seeing her life and knowing the somewhat normal path she will have puts me in a little bit of a funk.

One of my biggest hangups in life, the one for which I’m still stuck, is the normalcy the “how did I deviate from that?” Why not me? I tried to catch up very quickly in college and succeeded in only superficial ways. It wasn’t what I wanted. It wasn’t what I needed. And then I gave up. I lost hope. And the I regained it…and lost it. I continue to live this cycle.

I’m letting the sun into my bedroom and I look out and see a man running and something inside kicks. (no, I’m not pregnant) I try too hard to make things happen. To make them what I picture. To make them what I see around me.

On a good note, I’m organizing and purging so I’m not hanging on to old things. But what do you do when there’s old stuff you want to hang on to? Stuff you shouldn’t. Stuff you should put down in peace.

At what point do we both feel and express our emotions – fully, deeply – and at what point do we let our rational thought quell the emotional bits? When is it okay to feel and act without restraint? And if we never let ourselves feel or act, do we cheat ourselves and keep spinning, a blur of hope, joy, love, fear, anger, disappointment and sadness?

I am an experienced dieter. As such, I learned that you set yourself up to fail or quit if you start a rigid diet at the wrong time. Actually, I’m not really pro-rigid diet. That whole vegan phase doesn’t count, right? That was a lifestyle! And it sure was easy to get drunk after a month of no sugar, dairy, meat, honey, eggs, or pop.

Here are the worst times to start a diet:

1. The week before your period.
2. The week of your period.
3. When you are poor.
4. When a loved one is in the hospital.
5. When you hate vegetables.
6. When you like lots of bacon. (that’s in there for the Twitterites)
7. When you’re traveling for work (though I did successfully keep vegan on a business trip)
8. When you’re underweight
9. When you work 80 hours a week
10. When you aren’t motivated
11. When you aren’t doing it for the “right” reasons
12. When you like feeling round
13. When you’re content feeling like less of a target for a violent crime because who goes after the fat kid? (Lord of the Flies does not count!)
14. When Easter Candy is on sale.

There are certain words you say with distress, disgust, and dread. These words make bad names for things you love like pets and children and if used on a pet or child will confuse them.

Here are a few samples of names I would never give to a pet or a child:

1. Laundry
2. Dishes
3. Litter Box
4. Ralph
5. Pooh
6. Dick
7. Kathy