He’s simply magical
Just a little while ago Matt and I had an argument, which lead to a discussion, and then ended happily with a kind and loving understanding between us. It was basically centered about me getting frustrated, because even though I am trying my damndest to be more social and loving, I'm finding the urge to just have too much me-time almost overpowering. So it sent me off on a total anger fit, because I felt like Matt was trying to pressure me too quick in doing more stuff, which he probably was not at all. I've just been so angry and just.. blah... ever since I finished painting and had all of those hissy fits. Now that I think about it, I may possibly be suffering from PMS. I'm not the responsible type that knows the exact day of my next period (because as soon as I realized I was not regular, and thus somewhat unpredictable, my effort to keep track faded..) it's very likely that I'm just having the typical bitchy week. It certainly feels like it... that burning anger that comes out of no where and just starts to eat at me until I yell or scream... or do exactly what I did just a little while ago, which is attempt to pick apart the things that make me happy and case an argument with it. I suppose I do that because I figure it kills two birds with one stone; I fix whatever problem I'm having, and get rid of my anger with it. It never quite works that wr>Su. and even though I'm aware of it's inevitable failure, that certainly doesn't ever stop me from making an ass of myself.
When me and Matt first became official, back in June of 2002, I warned him that even though he did not understand why all of my previous boyfriends had not wanted me, I told him that sooner or later he would find out. I just needed to get that disclaimer out there, because I really did care for him... I knew there was something wrong with me, and I didn't begin to know how to fix it... and I could tell instantly that he was innocent and not out to just take and use from me like everyone else had been. And, so far, I've been fairly good at behaving myself. But, today, on this horribly moody evening, I let an old habit go wild all over my instant message with him. About 1/2 way through, I could recognize exactly what I was doing, because my typing was different (less typos and less misspelled words, oddly enough)... my responses were faster, and I was thinking with lightening speed. That's what I do when I'm foolishly angry (when real, honest anger hits me, I can't think clearly for the life of me... only grunts and moans come out 
, and it's trademark for when I am argue simply to... argue. That I'm trying to find something wrong to relieve some pressure elsewhere inside of me. That's what I do best... over analyze everything to eventually find the one weed and turn it into a psycho venus flytrap (sp?), not caring how it effects the only person... only focus on how I think it will make me feel better. I almost have the motions memorized of how to conduct these arguments, and know just the right ways to keep it going, even if the other person has had enough (because, after all, it's not over till I say so. It's my argument, after all.)
But Matt had the perfect counter for it... and, probably years from now, I'll still be shocked that he saw right through me (or, it seemed that way) and was just calm... Granted, at first, I believe I got his goat a little. But he slowly but surely calmed down instead of heating up, as the conversation turned into more of a debate than an argument (which, is really just my "smart" way of arguing). He then told me everything that I needed to hear... everything that stopped the words from falling from my mouth onto my keyboard. He said that he loved me, would always love me, and that he's glad that we were having this discussion. That's when the argument went to discussion... when he simply took it all in stride, smiled, and said he cared about how I felt. Appreciated what I brought to his attention. I was utterly shocked, and still am. It is the first time someone has seen through my bullshit, instead of buying into it. I don't even know why I do it... maybe it's a craving for drama, or my secret love for unhappiness... but he knew how to stop it, without simply turning away from me to shutting me up. He simply understood. He embraced me in a virtual hug and just showed his love for me, even though I had done nothing at all to really deserve it.
We both have our bad days online. We both know that people act very differently online than they do in person, and we remind each other of that whenever we're worried we're being a bad girlfriend or boyfriend to the other. I know that I would probably never ever do what I did tonight in person; there's just something about the internet that is hollow and makes you be someone you are not. Something that makes you unneedingly emphasize all emotions, as if to compensate that you can't make facial expressions or hand gestures. Or, maybe in my case, spend too much time focusing on everything that is wrong with a relationship rather than everything that is right. It's just so easy to focus on the bad things while online, because bad things are usually worked out by talking, and that's all the internet is... but in person, there's a variety of physical actions and activities to help celebrate everything that is right.
Granted, I have my problems. Matt doesn't want me to place all our relationship "issues" on myself... he says that we're together and it can't just be one of us, but both. He won't allow me to take all the blame for anything, just like I wouldn't let him. That's that a majority of what the argument was about - who's owns the blame for all of our (very minor) problems (which are being more social and doing more things together, basically). I still think it's all me, just like he'll still think it's either him or both of us. But when I think of Matt... I just think of this amazingly loving guy; the guy that I feel like I've waited my whole life for. I don't see anything that could ever be his fault. Just I don't think it's possible to love someone too much, or "smothering" them. And then I look at myself... bitter and distant from being with all the wrong people, and coming from such a cold household... and I just know, like I know myself, that I could stand a few improvements with my relationship tendencies. I suppose I should make more of an effort to include Matt on those thoughts and feelings... instead of letting some of my bad habits come and bite him in the ass like they did today.
But it's simply magical that he almost knew about me, knew exactly how to "handle" me in a sensitive way, without me even having to tell him. He's so close to perfect in my eyes.... how could anything ever be his fault?
Echoing white walls, Opinions of online journals
Heh, whoops. I accidently posted the following entry to my photolog around 7:06 PM, and just now noticed
I wasn't feeling as bad today as I thought I would have. Sitting here, I feel totally fine. It's only when I go to get up (though I feel decent while walking) or when I flex my fingers that I feel any discomfort. Other than that, I've just been very tired and lazy today. I've slept quite a bit, which is only frustrating, because it just means that I'll probably end up going to sleep at 4AM again, instead of the 12 or 1 like I would prefer. I hung up some of my old wall decorations, just to see how they would look... but honestly, I might like my room to be "blank" for a while. I've spent so many years (uhm, 10 or more?) with insisting on decorating my walls to the fullest... and now I'm just digging the simple white.
Everytime I look in the mirror, I keep expecting to see this dramatic change in my physical appearance from painting so much. Ache = working out = looking different and better. Course... I'd probably need to paint 20 rooms to even notice a real difference. Just the thought of that makes my hands hurt.
This room seems to even echo more with white walls, as odd as that is. Or maybe it's that my computer desk is now up against the opposite wall that it used to be, and I still need to get used to the way sound bounces off this new room arrangement... or whatever. It also still has a faint smell of paint in here, which I only notice if I leave the room and come back in. I have the urge to burn some incense or a candle to help with the smell, but I have neither here with me... almost makes me want to go out and spend money foolishly on some.
Today I also finally went through my archives and removed my first roommate's name from all my archives of that time. Granted, the chance of her stumbling on this site again are next to none, but if that does happen, I don't want a repeat of the drama that happened with her before. She had also been really fussy about pictures of her bed being on the internet, but I don't suppose they matter anymore, since, well, it no longer exists in the form it was then... so I'm leaving them up. Thank goodness I never put up any actual pictures of her, otherwise she might have fully pressed the charges of slander. Thinking back, I'm not sure why I never did, with how picture crazy I was.
I got motivated to finally do this when I found out one of the regulars I read also ran into a bad situation with the wrong people stumbling on all the wrong entries :ehh: It's a shame when that happens. People still don't seem to realize (or know?) that there are probably the better 1/2 of a million online journals out there... possibly more than that. Actually, more than likely, it's a couple million and then some. For every person you talk to, long enough to leave a memory; there's a chance that they could choose to record you in their life log forever. Soon (like in the next 10 years or less) for every journal you stumble upon that contains something about you, there will be at least 10 others that mention you as well (either from just seeing you as a stranger or knowing you personally). I don't get how paranoid some people can be about it, either. Obviously there is some degree of "safety" to it, because then why would the writer (who's put 110% more of their life on the internet) feel comfortable to do it? And besides... most online journalers keep their writing away from people they (or even the people they speak of) would know personally, just because, regardless of whether or not it is online... it's a journal nonetheless. It still amazes me that people can be so shocked that individuals do and enjoy documenting their lives for others to read. When I was "discovered" in November 2001, I was treated as if I was a freak for having an online journal... because even though my roommate had totally set up a degradation ceremony for me when she found out what I had written (complete with a crowd of people surrounding my bed, biting at every answer I gave), and had treated me horribly in the months prior to that, the RD still said "you both have done something wrong...". I did something wrong? To vent my feelings that probably otherwise would have caused a breakdown within myself, that all were caused by the same person that was putting me through this; dealing with that the only way I know how was wrong of me? Right... Some people need the reality check of what is really thought of them by others in their innermost thoughts. Whether or not they'll accpet it like adults (no matter if they agree or not) or press legal action like a child (because, really, it's not like it's being said on cnn.com or anything, just a personal website. Being on the internet does not = everyone seeing it) depends highly on that person's character.
I suppose I'm horribly one sided, but I feel I have the reason to be bitter and defensive of the only thing I've ever found any joy in life doing.
After editing some of my entries, I also read some of them. I was surprised to realize that I met Dave and Michelle on the same day (who, gladly enough, don't seem to mind in the slightest if I write about them. Yay). My first couple of days at Radford were calm... and for the first time, I read about a couple things I had forgotten, which is nice. Usually I agonized so much over all my entires that I remembered them my default. It was nice to actually look back, and have the whole purpose of having a journal actually work for a change; reliving and revising forgotten memories with new eyes.
It's been so rainy and gloomy these past few days. Yesterday, for only about an hour, was the only time I've seen the sun in about 5 days. It came out while I was laying on my bed, which at the time, I had right up against the window, so I could lay my head on my pillow and look up at the sky easily. I hate gloomy weather... but then again, it is April. Fucking rainy April.
I feel like wathing a Star Wars movie...
Trip with Sandy, Painting my room
Last Tuesday I went out with Sandy as we had planned a couple of days before. She tried calling, but there was so much static (I don't know what's causing my phone to be so staticie recently... I even bought a new phone and tried turning it on with everyone else off in my room, and it was still horrible static... whatever is causing it is not something in this room or house) and we agreed to meet at the Food Lion parking lot (simply because it's such a hassle to call people into the lake just for her to come pick me up, and I felt like driving a little anyway.) We ended up deciding on taking her car, while I left my truck in the parking lot. Overall we had a pretty nice evening... Ate dinner at Ruby Tuesdays (my new favorite restaurant, I suppose, with my regular shrimp meal and shirley temples) and then walked around the mall some. We did some shopping for me, and we also stopped in Bath and Body works for Sandy (which I try to avoid usually, since everything usually smells too good and is too expensive, and I know I don't need any of it... but once I'm in there I can't help but browse and become a sucker for the good bargains) and we found these little travel size things that were 5 for $20. I figured, why not, since they had alot of the new product lines (or one that looked new to me) in there. Not all that great... I just bought a bunch of masks and exfoliater.
Afterwords, I asked if she'd mind stopping by Wal-Mart so that I could maybe pick up some paint, and she said she wouldn't at all. It took me a surprisingly short time to find my paint, and it was rather cheap, too. I was expecting a long wait for the paint to be ready like when I got paint for my room before... until I realized that I wouldn't have to worry with mixing it at all; just pull it off the shelf and go. I also picked up some rollers, just to be sure. The total of mine for 3 cans of paint and rollers was like $30, whereas I was expecting anywhere form $40 to $70. Yet again, probably from when I got paint for my room before. I had originally felt bad that I was going to be making Sandy wait there a long time, but then I ended up feeling bad that it took such a short time. She did buy some mailing stuff and something for one of her classes, so I guess it wasn't all that bad.
As we were leaving the parking lot, I realized we hadn't decided where we were going. I didn't really want to go home yet; I felt sorta bad, that my evening out with Sandy would just be spent having a little dinner and her driving me around so I could do some shopping. So, I asked what time she needed to be home, and when she didn't say early, I suggested we go see a movie. I had sorta been wanting to go, anyway, just because... I feel I don't see enough movies at the theater. So, we did. It was around 6:50 when we were there, and it came down to the choice between two movies - one Sandy had seen previews for, and one I had ;P We ended up picking "Head of State," the one I knew of, because it was starting earlier. The movie was alright, I guess... I've gotten to be quite the movie critic from watching movie channels all day. Not that I'm an expert, but I can easily tell when a story line doesn't flow and the camera angles are shitty... and, to me, Head of State failed in all of those areas. When I was complaining about it on the phone with Matt, he told me that Chris Rock was actually he one that directed it, which I instantly felt sorta sheepish and bad about... but at the same time not very surprised. Overall, the comedy was good... I'd recommend it for a rental, but maybe not theater /end-stuck-up-movie-review.
That night I started moving all my furniture to the center of my room. When my mother woke up, I wanted to show her what I had done in preparation for painting... and she just sort of looked at it, said "good" quietly, and hobbled back to the kitchen. Sure, she was 1/2 awake, but I was still expecting a more "strong" response, whether it be good or bad Shortly after that I went to bed; I didn't want to stay up too late, as I wanted to get alot of painting done the next day. I got off the phone with Matt, and after I retrieved my alarm clock from my mother (which she had been "borrowing" for more than a week I think) and set my alarm for 11.
Painting got off with a shitty start. I had assumed that my mother had some plastic sheets I could put over my stuff, but she didn't. She also complained that I didn't have normal brushes, and had only bought the roll on type, which was, yet again, because I thought we had some here. I got real fussy and pouty about... but eventually drove my bitter butt up tot he hardware store, all nasty (I didn't even attempt to make myself look any better from having just been asleep like I usually do) and got what I needed. It didn't help either that I had to fill out a form because it was the first check I had written there. I didn't mind at the time, but it was just something else that took me longer to get to painting.
I started painting around 2PM. It went really slow at first... and it became obvious to me real soon that I would need at least 2 coats of paint to cover the grey and black, and possibly 3. Overall, the painting was alright... I did about 40% of the room, from my door to the window beside my computer. I was tired and maybe slightly achie, but I tried to have some fun with it. Whenever a groovy song came on the TV, I would start dancing around like an idiot (and I don't mean that in the, "hehe, I feel self conscious and silly while I dance, so I'll just say I looked stupid to cover my ass, even though I might have looked ok"... no... I was slightly bent at the waist, shaking my butt, with my arms out and bent at the elbows, shaking them, with a paint brush in one hand... and the expression on my face had to be the worst; my mouth was open, and maybe even my tongue was hanging out, I don't really know... it was all just out of tension release and having at least one silly moment in serious work. So, yeah, it was that kind of stupid dancing).
I almost fell so many times on my rickety little step stool that I was standing on to paint the ceiling. There was one time, on my way down, I actually did fall (I don't know if I lost my balance or if my knee gave a little) and even though I didn't fall to the ground, I landed up beside a wall I had just finished painting, and had gotten paint all over the one side of my body. Other times, I just freaked myself out with that flutter of not being in control of where you are anymore. Normally something like that would have made me sit down and think of what of could have just happened... but instead I kept painting like it didn't happen, but visions of me lying over paint cans with broken legs and arms never really left my mind as a reminder.
My mother was off work the whole day, and she didn't offer to help once. Not that I really expected her to, but I even had to ask her to come see how the progress was coming, just to make sure I was doing it right. She had actually gotten real fussy and angry with me earlier in the morning, when I was asking her advice and if we had this or that. It only made me get more fussy myself, which I had a couple wall's worth to take that out on later.
That night, though... Oh my god. I had finished painting what I was going to sometime around 7, I think... and after that I just curled up on my bed. I was aching all over, like I had suddenly been hit with a ton of bricks. What ached the most was my right shoulder, and, oddly enough, my fingers and wrists... like every joint in my hands hurt. I believe my legs might have been hurting some too, but I'm not totally sure anymore. After I had finished moving all my stuff to the other side of my room in preparation for painting the other walls the next day, I called Matt sometime around 11 I think, and complained and whined a whole bunch about how I hurt all over. He said he wished he could have given me a massage, which sort of made it worse, because I only thought of how good that would feel. Eventually we got off the phone sometime around midnight, I think, because I wanted to wake up even earlier today to finish the painting.
I woke up an hour before my alarm. I started painting, and my father was nice enough to offer to buy me and egg biscuit. I accepted, even though I was not even the slightest bit hungry. I ate it shortly after and kept painting the other side of my room. This side was a killer... I took very few breaks (only took 2 real breaks, whereas yesterday I took about 4 or 5) and took little naps for each of them. My father actually woke me up from one... he kept knocking on the door and saying my name like an idiot... not changing the tone in his voice, because he knew there was nothing in the room making any noise to keep me from hearing him. He just kept doing it, and it was fucking annoying as hell... when I finally answered him (after I realized he wasn't going to stop, or even peek in to check why I wasn't answering, until he heard me say something) all he ended up wanting to know was "how's it coming." Ugh. He also asked me many times throughout the day if I'm done yet... even though he could have just got off his ass and checked to see that I obviously wasn't. It's like he's just there to annoy me sometimes.
Near the end of the painting, I felt like i couldn't take it anymore. It felt like the roller weighed 20 pounds, and 40 when I had to push it up against the wall to paint... or maybe moreso like a strong wind was blowing against my hands and arms, making it hard to do it against he pressure. Either way.. I knew I wouldn't be able to do the second coat on the ceiling or finish behind my TV (there's still some grey behind the TV, cause there was no way in hell I was moving my entertainment center to paint... I would just paint around it and what I could reach). So I begged and pleaded with my mother to come and help. She scoffed at me at first, saying she didn't want paint in her hair... and while I sat there, pissed as hell, she went back to reading her book. Usually when she says no, she doesn't mean it, but her totally ignoring me like that made me think she actually wasn't. I stormed back to my room, had a small hissy fit, then continued to paint, even though I had to drop my arm and let it rest every 15 or so seconds for about 30 seconds. She did eventually come and help, though. Not for very long, because she started to freak out when she got paint on her nightgown (even when I warned her it was close to dragging in paint, she didn't listen). She did to a second coat on the ceiling and behind the TV before she left, which was all I really needed. The rest was alot easier to do for me.
Near the end of painting, I started getting really pissed off. Every little thing sent me into a flurry of anger. The roller wouldn't stay in the paint trey where I put it, until I actually slammed it down and mashed it right where I wanted... and damn right it didn't slide down again. After I finished painting, too, I was trying to put away some photographs, and I totally freaked about because the plastic container's lid would not snap shut like it should. My mother was beside me when this was happening, and I was swearing up a storm and smacking it for not closing like I wanted... I also yelled at a couple of times to let out some frustration, with it sounding more like a "errrrrrrrrrrrrrrh". Heh. I looked down at my mother as I was doing this, and she was looking up at me with this look of surprised humor, and laughed a little at me while I was doing it. Maybe it's because I got those fit tendencies from her, I don't know... seeing her laugh made me do the same, though, which didn't do anything good for my anger.
So... blah. I could write more, but my hands are really bothering me. I'm actually starting to get worried about arthritis... course, I've always been on the believe that cracking your knuckles didn't cause arthritis (or, that was the theory I chose out of the two options I read in an 8th grade science magazine... who knows, by now they could have made it a law rather than a theory on what causes it... but it runs in my family nonetheless) but it still had me trying to crack them less (but with the pain, and hence my attention there, I've been cracking them more.) My body is killing me... after I finally finished painting and moving my room around so it was starting to look normal, I got on the computer. I realized I was still in a very shitty mood, so I went to take a bath and fix myself some dinner. Since then, I've eaten, and I suppose I feel better. But, to replace the bad temper and muscle cramps... is a headache. And I had already taken the limit of things to take in a 24 hour period to help ease my muscle pain earlier. So, blah... it's still lingering. I just hope I end up going to sleep before it actually develops into anything.
My site got less hits when I wasn't online... like less than my site would if, say, the computer was one. Maybe the layout sucks. Maybe my entries are boring. But such is life 
REMINDER TO SELF: Call Dianna about the job tomorrow to see what the fuck is up.... if she's not going to be able to hire me, she should at least tell me so I know to stop spending on things the things I've needed for a while and just save it for when Matt is here. It would figure if I didn't get the job, though... it sounded too goo to be true.
Soothing baths
Sometime this evening I started to get a headache... I seem to have been getting them every evening this past week or so. Of course, headaches are pretty regular with me. I used to think it had something to do with too much caffeine or being on the computer too much, but I've totally weaned myself off of caffeine and even when I spend large amounts of time away from the computer, they still plague me. I don't like taking things for them every day, so usually if I have them many days in a row (like the past 3 days for me) I'll try to go without taking anything, hoping that maybe they will just fade away with time. While struggling with the beginning of tonight's headache, I thought it would probably be a good idea to lay down and try to maybe sleep off some of the headache. I wasn't sleepy when I first layed down, but eventually was... and I guess I slept for about an hour or so. I woke up with my headache being even worse. I tried sitting at the computer again (since Matt had just gotten back from class, I wanted to talk to him some) and seeing if I could function alright. Read was alright, but only if I kept my head still, because the slightest movement would send it throbbing. Eventually, I gave in... I went into the kitchen, took something for the pain, and made myself some peanut butter toast (encase the headache had anything to do with not eating). The headache started to relieve itself, but I figured that a bath would also help as well to finish off the rest of the pan.
Just before I was about to step into the tub, I looked in the full length mirror on the wall in the bathroom. I looked at myself from the front and the back... tried pushing in my pouching stomach to see what it would look like once the situps start kicking in (if they ever do... I did them for a month or more a while back, with little or no results to show for it) and then got a little disappointed that I didn't look like that now. I do want to lose weight for myself, but I would also love to look great for when Matt is here. He'll be here for the 6th, which will be our one year anniversary, and I'd love to be able to look amazing as I could for him, and feel just as amazing. It's odd that I spent so much time during highschool desperately trying to thicken myself up, and now that I have, I'm unhappy with it. I guess I always expected it to happen more gracefully than it has. While taking a bath, I thought about maybe going on a diet, but decided against it. It would probably be best if I lost the weight by replacing it with muscle, and hoping that shapes me out like I have always wanted to be.
There's something so soothing about baths... I prefer them much more over a shower. I remember when I was with Matt last August, we took a bath together. It was the first time I had ever done that, so I didn't really know what to do. I was really self conscious, the way my stomach fat was crinkling up as I hunched over naturally, but he didn't seem to notice or care about it. I can't remember what we really talked about... though I remember every now and then I would scoop up water in my hands and splash it over his hair and down his back to keep him from getting chilled, until he told me stop... since it was that that was actually making him chilled He told me he hadn't taken a bath in years, and I was shocked... I don't just like taking baths, I need them. Just being able to float away in hot water (and I usually have hot enough water that turns all my skin touching it red...) and simply relax is heavenly. It was a killer in college not to be able to take them (and, after I changed rooms, having what was probably the worse shower on all campus as my only form of comfort) and I probably would have just stayed at college during breaks if I didn't know that going home meant I could just soak for hours and not be bothered. Matt and I always joke about how we have a list of things we'll need for our future home, and that a big bathtub is a must. Taking a bath tonight, and thinking of all that, made me wish so much he was there to cuddle with while my headache floated away, with him massaging my temples as he probably would have. I remember the past couple of days when he was here in March, I had suggested that we take a bath... but when it came around time to actually do it, he declined. I was sort of bummed, but I could understand why he wouldn't want to, with my parents being here and everything.
My headache is better, but I can still feel it there, like it's waiting until it can take over me again. Hate that... I'm also drowsy again from the pills I had taken earlier. I've been so sleepy and nappy the past couple of days, and I hate days like that. When I'm just groggy and headachy the whole time... the few extra hours of sleep aren't good enough to make up for all of that.
I want to paint my room. I'm tired of it being the colors that it is... I can't even really remember why I chose to paint it in the first place; why white paint wasn't good enough, but I just HAD to match my bedspread with the walls. I suppose I was going through a somewhat rebellious stage and just wanted something made by myself... I remember I had actually wanted to pay for my room to be recarpeted with black carpeting to match, but my parents wouldn't have that. My mother was sweet and actually helped me pick out the paint, and did allot of the painting herself while I was at school, even though she thought it was ugly. I don't know why I've kept it this way for so long... it isn't even a good paint job (it's horrible actually... but that's my fault for being clumsy). Both me and my mother tell each other all the time how I should paint it white some day... so why not in the next couple of weeks. Depending on the price of the paint, I might go pick up some tomorrow. Sandy had mentioned doing something tomorrow since she'll be in the area, so if we do (depending on my headaches..) I might ask her if it'd be alright to stop by some place like Wal-Mart or Lowes and see what the prices are for a cream color. It'll make this room so much brighter, too... the dark walls are so depressing, with the way they suck all of the light out of the room. It all reminds me too much of high school, which I've been thinking about too much lately... I hated high school, and I really need to remove everything that reminds me of it and who I was back then.
New Layout, Video Card, Axolotl Food
I put up the new layout yesterday and didn't really say anything about it like I usually would have. It's alright, I suppose, though I wish I could have done better... I made the index page in one night, and then made the layout template and uploaded it all in one morning 2 days later. I'm sort of on a simple kick, which is quite unlike the graphic explosions that I left off making in 2001. I could actually see myself not liking this site in the least bit two years ago. I'm not sure how long this layout will stay; it's not my favorite, but I thought it was appropriate for how I've been feeling lately. Not only the whole "reinvention" thing, but I've also been thinking allot about having children. Well, maybe more of being pregnant than actually having children... one step at a time I guess Children themselves still make me uncomfortable from the thing that happened when I was in 5th grade, so I don't know how I'll feel about them after brining one into the world myself. It's not something I really ever gave much thought before, other than "not now"... But, I don't know. The experience may be fun... I want one of those meaningful pregnancies, not one of those hollow ones that was just there and no memories were made, without any moments of appreciating all the simple wonders of it. Hopefully I'll still be keeping this journal when I do go through a pregnancy, so I can write about it all... I doubt I could motivate myself to write if I did not have this journal online anymore, and I would probably lose the experiences forever due to my horrible memory. And I'd love to be able to share the experience with the few people that have followed this site, and even caught up with it again after my break. There's really not that many, maybe just a handful... and there's really no way that I could express the appreciation of them sticking with me.
I had wanted to go running today (or, it probably would have ended up being more like walking) but since it's raining, I couldn't. I've been doing situps for about the past week, doing 50-60 once or twice a day (whenever I feel like it, really, or remember to.) I've been wanting to get into shape for a while... last summer, I had envisioned myself being very fit and in better physical health in general by the time I went to work... but I haven't really been doing that. I've gained weight, which is something I struggled to do all through high school while I was losing so much of it from my IBS. Little did I know, all I had to do was sit around and basically barley move, and I would gain plenty of weight. Or, moreso, I would lose all my muscle weight, and then replace it with genuine fat. That's basically all I have done, because my weight has not changed at all, but I have obviously plumped out some. I actually wasn't aware of it until last January... before that I actually remember thinking that my dimples when I smile had just "gone away." But after taking some pictures early this year, I took a close look at my smirking face, and finally saw it. It was all over my cheeks, and my neck... don't know why I had not seen it before. And, of course... I gained weight in my face, my upper arms, stomach, and thighs upon closer examination. I never gain weight where I need it, like in my lower arms, wrists, lower legs and ankles. That was the main reason why I wanted to gain weight all along, to help make those areas look more proportionate to the rest of my body, but it simply didn't work that way. So, I'm wanting to work out and become fit for the sake of myself, not just so I'll look good to everyone else. Even though I'll miss finally looking decent with my hair up, I need to drop some fat and replace it with muscle. I'll probably always weigh 135 and never get below a size 9 or 7, but at least I'll feel better about myself.
Jumping to another topic... the other day I sent off my video card. My father helped a great deal, doing everything I had asked him and actually planned out everything ahead of time by the time I woke up that morning (I believe it was almost a week ago... 2 days after my long entry about my computer shutting off, whenever that was). Although, my father did have something to request in exchange for doing all that for me. He's been battling it out with their credit card companies, and he wanted to write strong worded letter to them. My father had always been angry and bitter, but now that he's getting older, he's becoming less bashful of unleashing it upon unexpecting individuals. So, he had written out these letters and asked me to type them up and look real nice, and even told me to edit them and do spell checking, because he's "not very smart" (if only he would admit that after all the thoughtless and stupid things he does...). I agreed to do it... because even though I disagree with my father, and personally do not like him, it doesn't do any good to make coexisting with him hard and dramatic. I had not wanted to, because I was afraid he would be hovering over my shoulder, which always ends up in him yelling at me for getting frustrated with him, and then me refusing not to do anything. But, I took the risk of that happening and did it anyway for him, since he had done so much for sending my graphic card back that morning. Turns out he actually let me in the din by myself, and I edited his letters. I was happy with the job I did, and my father was even more so. It's nice to actually see him utterly tickled about something I did, and complimenting me a few times of how good it was with a big smile on his face. It made me feel good, even though I would rather he do that allot more often, and over things that weren't just done for him. Regardless of the reasons, it made me feel good that day for a few short hours, until it was all forgotten.
And, to one more topic before I close... my mother finally bought some liver and shrimp that we're going to try to feed Herbetta. I've been wanting to get some variety in her diet for a while, especially since feeding her frozen cubes of bloodworms and brine shrimp can be messy and time consuming. Whether or not she'll eat them, no matter how much easier it is for me and how good it is for her to have some variety, is a different story. I wasn't aware that axolotls can get too used to a food and then might reject all others, but I'm hoping this won't be the case. I was actually wanting to feed her just a little while ago, but my mother had just gotten home from work and was eating her regular nachoes and cheese while reading her book, and I need her help cutting up the stuff (since I've always been bad with that, with the very high odds of cutting or hurting myself)... so I came in here to write while she finishes eating.
In other axie news, Kasey and Cayenne are doing really good. They've both already got their back legs grown totally, though even though Cayenne's started later than Kasey's did, they're almost the same length now. I usually end up feeing them every night when I'm talking to Matt on the phone, and I'm usually reminded to when he asks me, "So how are the babies doing?" I think that's so sweet and cute of him He calls them our babies, and he wanted me to take pictures of them today so he could see how they're doing. I'll have to remember to do that sometime today... I always forget to take pictures when he asks (whoops ).
