It’s Been a While

It’s been a while since I’ve written last.  March has been a difficult month.  Plus, now that my boyfriend is only working one job–I don’t have time to write.  I decided to keep my blog a secret from him and all of my friends and family so I could have a private place (in public on the internet of course–oh the paradox of my generation) to sound out my thoughts and feelings without worrying about their thoughts, judgments, etc.

This past month I went through blood test after blood test, ultrasounds, and an embarrassing 24 hour urine collection only to find out that there is nothing wrong with me.  Of course my insulin levels are elevated but my A1C is normal.  My medical problems are because I’m overweight.  I was afraid that would be the answer because it means it’s all my fault and that all my efforts don’t work and I will most likely stay like this forever and never get better because I am an ambitious person and my life is going to be busy for the rest of my life and I doubt I’ll have the time and energy that it would require to get myself down to a healthy weight.

Uffda**!

Growing up my parents were always working.  I had to cook for myself and my sister and all I could cook were things from a box, like pasta and other pre-made meals.  Me and my sister got pretty chunky under my watch.  She managed to get mono one year, dropped all her weight, and has been able to keep it off since.  Me on the other hand, I have been dedicated to eating a healthy diet and exercising as frequently as I can.  For example, I gave up eating red meat and pork and I truthfully stuck to it from when I was 13 to when I moved to Texas last year at 23.  Also, for the past 5 years I have maintained a daily calorie consumption around 1,500. I have only managed to gain more weight. Frustration doesn’t even begin to describe it.

I have been working hard to consume less calories, eat more vegetables, less carbs.  I don’t binge and, honestly, for a fat girl, I’m never hungry.  I don’t overeat.  It’s just not an issue for me.  I take the bus, walk a half mile to work, a mile from work to a bus.  I work out 3-4 times faithfully per week.  Not mindless treadmill running or ellipticals but cardio that gets my heart going wild and strength training.  I try to get 8 hours of sleep a night but it’s not the easiest when I have so many obligations and goals.  I have 75 pounds to lose and I’ve been working very hard for a month and have lost no weight at all.  But there’s nothing wrong with me.  I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.

But on the life front, I’ve been managing my free time better, now.  Instead of watching TV, I have personal training twice a week, work out independently once or twice a week and go to the library to study for the LSATs two to three times a week.  I’ve applied to volunteer for a program that will have me helping refugees become self-sufficient.  I will teach English, help them find jobs, help them learn how to use a computer, and also help them feel better living so far from home.  I really hope they will call me back and have me volunteer.  It’s something I wanted to do since I moved to Austin, but it’s only recently that I’ve managed to get out of this cavernous rut I’m in–now I’m only in a little one (baby steps, folks).  I’ve conned my sister into giving me her beautiful cello that she doesn’t play anymore (my shitty violin I played was sent to Costa Rica) and I will be trading in my alto saxophone and my sister’s french horn in order to purchase a tenor saxophone.  I’ve really missed music since leaving college and I’m hoping to spend more time with it.  Also, I’m hoping to start mediating with some regularity and also incorporate yoga into my life.  I fear that stress may be helping keep me overweight.  Hopefully adding meaningful activities will help with stress and make for an overall more happy existence.  Work–especially administrative work I have zero interest in and does not utilize my talents–and taking care of the house is not soul satisfying.

With the LSAT, I decided that I would wait until October to take it.  Working full time obviously prohibits me from dedicating more time to really studying.  I want to give myself the best chance I can for success and that means spending more time studying.  It will also give me the time to explore options and really know what I want before I dive in head first and make more mistakes like I am so prone to do–I love an adventure.  My boss has a friend who is a judge here in Austin and her husband is a professor of law at the University of Texas, Austin and I am going to speak with them and hopefully they’ll take me under their wings a little.  Law school is a big commitment.  I know it’s something I could make it through with flying colors–I’m too dedicated to do anything less–but it’s a life long commitment and I want to make sure I am ready and fully informed.

Slowly but surely, I’m going to get somewhere.  I’ve got a long ways to go but my feet are always moving.

 

**for non-Midwestern, Norwegian types–“Uffda” is the Norwegian equivalent of OMG, it’s what you say when you feel overwhelmed, are surprised.  It’s also kind of a curse word.  I guess it’s quite similar to “Oi vei.”

Woman

I hate being a woman.
I hate how being a woman means vulnerability.
I hate how eyes, undressing–judging–are always combing over my every flaw
there is no hiding in the open They force on me.
X-ray vision is only a metaphor.
Big Brother is always watching.

I hate vulnerability as a lifestyle
As a mindset
As the unavoidable conclusion.
A prophecy foretold.
A feeling always foreboding.

I hate how calculated wasting away is done for Their pleasure.
Premeditated, a concentrated effort to create vulnerability.
Oppression.
Because liberation is a threat to Them.
Liberation in a woman is sin. The original sin.

I hate how without One–you are not whole.
Hole.
To be filled. Incomplete.
Without One you are an outcast.
A social deviant.
Rejected. Defective.
A conversation piece at a party
The preoccupation of those that have been claimed
A predatory preoccupation of Them.
Vulnerability is alluring.
Vulnerability is one drink too much and being led away from a protective flock.

I hate how without One you do not feel safe.
I hate how sharing a sidewalk with Them makes me wish for Jim Crow
so I could have a reason other than fear to avoid.
They are the male family member required to accompany to protect against Them.
As if They are not One of Them and you are safer because you have One.
As if she who is with He is not thinking the same about Yours
But statistics shows it’s almost always One you know.

I hate the bravado, the sureness that overshadows my little, steady candle.
They are shadows, nameless shapes encroaching at the edges.
Hands on my neck.
Eyes on my flaws.
Whispers in the back of my mind.
That pause, that hesitation that causes me to miss a moment and become vulnerable.
Footsteps behind but ever quicker–approaching–until you are compromised.

I hate how being a woman means compromise.
Sacrifice.
You have something to be taken. Something that can never be returned.
I hate energy spent, energy diverted, to Them.
Like that worship is more worthy than the cast-aside altar of me. Only me.

 

I never have a gift for that altar.

Why I’m Bad At Small Talk (and other social activities)

For as long as I can remember I’ve been horrible at small talk.  When I meet new people I’m awkward, quiet, and very unapproachable.  This is something that is quite contrary to my true nature.  I’ll blame it on my permanently furled brow.  I’m constantly lost in thought–calculating the answers to world peace and the like.  No big deal.

It is the one thing I’m not good at, meeting new people.  For as confident as I am when speaking about something I’m passionate about–I become Samson in the presence of those I don’t know.  Rejection is a fear that plagues me; I want to make people happy–it’s what fulfills me.

Interactions with new people are also rare for me.  I’ll in part blame this characteristic on growing up in a very small, isolated town.  And even more rare is the time we are blessed to spend with others.  The moments we share with individuals are so fleeting.  So tenuous.  During that time I don’t want to talk about the weather or some trivial shared experience we had in the elevator.  I want to know your about your dreams and passions.  I want to know your fears and deepest regrets.  I want to give you respite.  I want to fortify you and offer you unexpected support.  I want to share a bond with you that let’s you know that you are visible.  I want to give you validation.

Even though I know this bond is short lived, each person I manage to capture in this spell lives within me.  It nourishes me and love and positivity goes with them.

I learn from each person I speak with.  Every person is a piece of the puzzle–a word in the answer to the deepest questions humanity strives century after century to answer.  Every person is potential.  Every person is the unexplainable and mystery at the center of our souls.  Every person is a reflection of us all; I can fin myself in you.  Every person is a question.  Every person is an answer.  This makes every person irresistible to me.

So, forgive me if we meet and I seem aloof.  Forgive me if I’m impatient with your comments about this recent weather phenomenon or that.  I’m here for you.  I want to know you and appreciate you.

As always, love.