The Universe keeps changing

Well I keep trying to change it, anyway.

And I CAN change it.

I've tried to take control of my body since I last posted. I've been running every night. Not really all that far, but when you're as active as an avid knitter currently obsessed with Buffy the Vampire Slayer reruns, three quarters of a mile can seem like a lot.

That feels like it should be doing me good, but more than a month later I've lost nothing. I've heard rumors of muscle weighing more than fat and all... I HAVE lost an inch around my belly...

Well anyway NOW I'm upping the ante. Ante. What the hell does that mean, anyway? Pardon me while I go google it.

Ohhhhhh. Means poker stakes. So upping the ante is when you raise. Got it.

ANYWAY. NOW I'm upping the ante. I bought diet supplements and protein powder! The pills have green tea and acai berry extract. They act as both a laxative (ew) and as a diet suppressor. More importantly they were the second cheapest bottle on the shelf. And vegetarian.

I got the protein powder to make myself less hungry. it's HORRIBLE!! I need to bake it into protein cookies or something, because it's not super bearable at breakfast time. It's like hot coco, but cold. So it doesn't really dissolve right. So it has the consistency of milk mixed with sand. Horrible, vanilla flavored sand.

OH. And making it into cookies is going to be a bit more difficult because I'VE STOPPED EATING SUGAR. Cold turkey. Just like that. I didn't realize the headaches were part of that until my father asked me how the withdraw was going.

I never thought I could give up sugar. Of course I never thought I could give up cheese burgers or provolone either. But here I am. The sugar free vegan that runs every night and now ingests horrible, horrible protein powder. (SOY protein, thank you very much.)

Hell, I've even been doing reps with my mothers dumbbells and crunches after I run.

If I don't morph into the incarnate image of Aphrodite after all this, I'll be wanting my security deposit back.

And there's one more think I think I need to invest in: An "e-cig". Electric cigarette. Instead of sucking tar, you suck vapor. Still get a healthy dosing of nicotine poisoning, but none of the other chemicals that usually come along with the common packed-paper cigarette.

I'm certainly not addicted to cigarettes now, but I've been drinking more. And when I drink, I love to smoke. So I think I would use the e-cig while drinking. That way I can smoke as much as I want without feeling incredibly guilty the next day, and without feeling the need to deprive myself of my beloved cancer-causers for weeks after.

Huzzah for a better way to integrate poison with my body!

Of note:

You know, I understand what men say about "beer goggles" now. I think I'm sexier when I'm drunk too!!

Of note:

Four hours of sleep, surviving on coffee and then a massive portion of chili will knock you out like a sumo on steroids.

Of note:

Actually that was my 94th post. I had a lot of unpublished drafts. Which means that I missed my 69th post too.... ah well. I guess it's like having two birthday parties. Kids with divorced parents have all the fun.

100 Posts!

I've made an important choice. In order to help myself recover from all the badness in life (I'm getting better already, I think) I'm going to take extra good care of myself.

I'm trying to lose (MORE) weight. I'm using a special facial cleaner to clear my skin. I'm running every night. I'm actually putting make-up on before I leave the house.

It just makes sense! One of my more vapid friends told me that she usually gets over stuff that way. Although I rarely take her advise, this particular idea struck me as clever. I've always considered it shallow to focus on myself too much, I thought it vain. But maybe it's exactly what I need. Like a spa day. Only it's a spa month. Year. However long it takes.

I need to make myself beautiful and healthy and successful. Get artwork into the school gallery. Start finishing my novel. Finish the two short stories I'm working on. Finish learning spanish. Learn sign language. And then, next time I run into him, if I must, I won't have anything to be ashamed of. Just lots to be proud of. So maybe it won't bother me so much.

I just hope I never see goth guy again. Along with my apparent trauma/shock, I appear to also have come down with acid reflux. Damnit. It comes from the stress. I'm always at school. And I'm always afraid I'll run into him.

Ways I can deal with this: Running at night really does help. Maybe I'll do a yoga class or something. I could smoke more. Liquor.

I'm hoping to get a new job soon. Either a second part time working as an art teacher, or a full time job in medical records. I have a pending interview for the art position, and I had an interview a couple weeks back for the medical records. They said if I didn't hear back in three weeks, to move on.

Looking for a job SUCKS. I'm stressed about money, still dealing with my messed up emotions, having sudden homo-erotic feelings for a friend, and I STILL have a girly infection. My life is out to get me.

I think I went on the job segment because I would then have the money for an electric cigarette. Which I could smoke as often as I darn well please. And that would help with the stress.

And on that note:

¡¡¡100 posts!!!
(huzzahs, confetti)