Adventure, Bucket List, Change, Holiday Season, Life, New Year, Resolution, Weight Loss, Yoga

2014 Resolved

Happy New Year, everyone! You ever notice how people write “New Years” with the “s” at the end? That drives me fucking bananas. There it is. My first published curse of 2014. It’s good to be alive.

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I almost hate those days between the day after Christmas and New Year’s Eve. They are forgotten days where we all scramble for no good reason. That’s when the top 20 mash-up remix of all the top songs are played over and over again on the radio ( because people still listen to the radio and LOVE mashup remixes!). There is also the magic of BuzzFeed to let you know the greatest kitten moments of 2013 and Instagram’s tribute to your top liked pictures… etc. It’s a great way to reflect on 2013 without having to think too much, but still be sentimental (but not really).

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Gratuitous Kitten Picture

I don’t like to make resolutions, because I don’t keep them. I get over it after about a week… BUT THIS YEAR WILL BE DIFFERENT! I say that every year with the greatest of intentions. Somehow, as I do every year, I hope this year is different, but can’t promise myself that it will be.

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A Happy Homie.

January 5 started a very long wagon ride for me. I can’t tell you how depressing my lazy 2-week vacation was and how much beer and cheese I consumed. My big plan is to detox for a bit and lose about 60 million pounds by February. I know this is unrealistic, but most New Years resolutions are, so I am in a sense, being realistic.

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EEK!

When I started writing this blog, I had no idea how it would make me feel; how much sleep I would lose writing things in my head all night, how angry I’d be at myself in the morning for forgetting all the ideas I had just before my dreams hit, how much guilt I’d feel when I take too long to write anything, and and that overwhelmed feeling I get when I have too many rough drafts in the queue (queue is a hard word to know how to spell correctly the first time!). I really didn’t think this blog would be a thing past one or two posts, but I find it to be a nice outlet for whatever it is that ails me, as well as my incredible sense of sarcasm, wit, self-humiliation, and Captain Clam updates. Last year I wrote 38,291 words. This year, I want to write 100,000 words. It sounds like a lot, but it really isn’t that much, not for a long-winded clam lover like myself.

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Since I will be writing open letters to the universe so much in the next year, I really need to learn how to type properly. I have no idea how that lesson never crossed my educational path, but it’s probably time to figure that one out. I also would like to explore different writing techniques… I mean you probably don’t want to hear me bitching all of the time, right? Over the 2 week holiday, Captain Clam and I watched 652 documentaries. I do believe it was out of guilt for being so lazy (we now want to be Organic Dairy Farmers and smuggle Raw Milk into Georgia). These movies somehow motivated me to want to read more books this year (like actual page turning ink-on-paper books (because I like it old school)). Reading more is bound to improve my writing skills, and help me stop wasting time (did you catch the pun in there?). I will also consider magazines since they break up their words with pictures and little captions that I enjoy reading.

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Another gratuitous Cat picture.

Captain Clam and I bought a scrabble board from Rite-Aid over the holiday and promised each other to play more Scrabble. Of course we have NEVER played Scrabble together (ever), so then we simply promised each other to play it. Unfortunately, he has refused to play, so I have thus promised myself to be awesome and play alone as two people with their own agenda. I have been begging him to play all evening each night and even bribed him with a Netflix romantic comedy about British people road tripping (his pick). Within the first 15 minutes, a man was run over and killed by a camper. I will never fully understand British humor.

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Scrabble Dabble.

Captain Clam and I have been talking about doing some yoga. He showed me how he can lie on his back and bend his body in half, touching his toes to the floor above his head. I was jealous, so I tried it too. The result was not as inspiring and I quit before my back started cramping. I kinda just want to do yoga so I can show that Clam up. I used to do Wai Lana Yoga on (surprise!) Netflix, but then I got lazy and they stopped streaming it. It really was a great exercise in stretching, relaxation, and spirituality… three things that we both could really use in our lives this year. I’m hoping a burst in movement will inspire me to stop being a lazy cow….

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Yoga for Beginners and Clams alike.

Which brings me to the hardest wish ever…I’d like to be nicer to myself. As a woman, I am my own worst critic and enemy. It’d be nice to either suck it up and create the me that I want, or just be happy with who I am. I have resolved (for the time being) to stop complaining and just take life in stride with a smile on my face (since we all look so much better with a smile on).

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And I Love YOU!

Moving on…. Captan Clam and I need to move. We will do so this year, hopefully before the winter thaws out. We are looking into my old neighborhood, or somewhere nearby so I can fulfill one of my favorite wishes, which is to spend more time with my friends. The last year and a half I have been lost in Brooklyn, and not in a good way. I look forward to making up for wasted time and getting to know new people who love and admire the same people that I do. A move would also help us clear our closets and heads. We can start over by simplifying our belongings and getting rid of clutter.

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Once the Captain and I relocate, we can blow this Popsicle stand for the mountains in summer or white sandy beaches where everyone speaks Spanish. I need a real vacation. It’s been too long that I have been away where it didn’t involve seeing any of my family members or sleeping on a couch. We both need to get away so we can start having more realistic dreams and a broader theory of our own personal existence.

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Paradise might be nice.

With all that said, I would also like to learn how to speak Spanish so I can have a more authentic time on vacation and I can also pretend not to understand what is going on in the workroom at my job as opposed to actually having no clue as to what the workers are saying.

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This year I also need to get my hands on Troll 2. As part of my documentary-filled holiday, I came across an informational film about this cult movie. As a fan of really good bad movies, this is clearly a must see and I must see it.

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As far as my obvious Netflix addiction goes… I’d like to nip that quickly and waste my time making art or cooking delicious meals. While documentaries and ridiculous movies are alright, every night spent in front of a computer screen is not cool, especially when most of my day is spent rotting at a computer screen as well. In an effort to cultivate more of my hobbies, I have requested quotes from various voice coaches for singing lessons. If the budget allows, I’ll invite you all to my first show and check off one of the things on my To-Do List.

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Along with saving money for moving and my fancy vacation, I’d love to have this awful tramp stamp removed from my ass crack. Twelve years ago I was much braver than I realized. My braveries now consist of considering the possibility of changing my hair… like getting bangs or letting the grey grow in. Or I want another tattoo and fear I have one too many. I have no idea. But what I know is that this horror story needs to go!

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Somehow a fart joke seemed appropriate here…

It would seem that we need to save a lot of money this year. My horoscope has told me that it is the YEAR for saving for Sagittarius, so I have decided to fall into a Facebook/Pinterest trap and go ahead and run my luck on a jelly jar and this:

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I do not think I will save $1,378, but I have named the jar “Adventure Fund” and can’t wait to see where this jar and 2014 will take me. So here’s a toast to a New Year to all of you. May it be better than 2013 was (since 2013 can kiss my ass).

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Loving puns.

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Contraceptive, Drink, Food, Weight Gain, Weight Loss

I Miss My Body

When I was 26, I was 105 – 110 pounds. I thought “Hey, I look damn good. So good in fact that If I gained a few pounds, I’ll look even better because I am SO skinny.”  I would see larger people and be grossed out thinking, “I could NEVER let myself get to be so big.” Well, here I am about 40 – 50 pounds heavier, thinking about my mid-twenties and pining for the days of physical activity, eating anything I wanted to,  and being completely comfortable in my skin and bones.

The story beings when I was 23. I moved to NYC to go back to school at FIT (three of the best years of my life so far). At the time, I was so poor that all I ate was pickles, popcorn, and dry Cheerios. I was always thin and athletic, but not in a disgusting way. I lost 15 pounds over the course of 3 years and was loving it! I loved that I could wear anything I wanted and be whistled at in the streets and be asked to “model” by Photography Club Pals. My jawline was fierce and my high cheekbones stuck out like a chiseled statue. I did, however, hate that my rib cage that would show on my chest. That was gross. Oh, and I was also starving ALL THE TIME. As you know pickles and Cheerios and popcorn aren’t all that filling. Someone asked me once why I didn’t eat a cheeseburger. I replied ” Well, shit. I would if you’d buy it for me.” Of course they didn’t oblige (jerk!).

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Lunch.

The last semester of school was the hardest. I was having all kinds of stress from work and school and then discovered I had an inguinal hernia. That’s the kind of thing boys usually get. It’s discovered when the doctor grabs their balls and makes them cough. I found mine in the shower… a small lump where my body meets my leg. I seriously shit a brick.

After surgery, I was, naturally, a hot mess. Then came finals and then the total freedom of graduation followed by the empty sadness of having to get a real job and wear dresses and fancy shoes. I found work at a production company doing this and that. After work we’d all go out for a beer and that’s when it happened… I started drinking beer.  I always hated beer, but now I love it. I need it with pizza, or on a hot day, or on a cold day….  I just love it (except Guinness. ew) and it’s cheap!

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Beer, will you marry me?

Once I started receiving health insurance, I went to all the doctors for all the check-ups and decided to get back on birth control. I opted for the Mirena IUD, since my plan would only cover contraceptive “devices” and not oral contraceptives, making the pill about $75 a month after insurance (Gotta love the American Health Care System).

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If it were only this easy!

Since the application of my contraceptive device, I have gained about one million pounds. To top off the Beer and Birth Control, I love pizza, bagels, tacos, pasta, and Netflix. I am eating a hunk of cheese as I type. I also worked a desk job for 3 years and hardly ever moved all day. So, there we have it. I am becoming a true American: lazy, fat, and unhappy.

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Anyway, once the pounds started to find their way onto my bones I was like, “Oh hey! I have boobs again!” And now I am like “Wow, I am using my belly as an arm rest!” Something has got to give, friends! I have recently switched to Light Beer (so gross) in the hopes that a difference might be made. I am also switching to imbibing only on the weekends and taking long walks in the park as well as bike rides (and teaching myself the fine art of arm circles and hoola hooping). I have switched to salads, too, but then run the risk of devouring half a bottle of dressing! YIKES (ok, that was an exaggeration, although salad dressing is delicious)! I may even join the gym, but the thought of a stranger taking my weight is just horrifying… and then having to work out with other strangers who obviously work out all of the time? Gross!

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I don’t even wanna know!

All in all, the biggest problem I am having is not being comfortable in my skin. I am so uncomfortable! I feel sweaty and smelly all the time, I even have knee sweat! I have a gigantic ass (which I’m actually okay with). My boobs are great as long as they hang out past my belly, but I’m now growing boob rolls. BOOB ROLLS!

I didn’t even mind the first few pounds that I gained because I was starting to look like a real person and not a skeleton in a skin costume. Captain Clam reassures me a thousand times a day that I am not fat, but I have “gained a few pounds.” I’d say I’m chubby, and these days I am so worried that my arms are fat. Imagine… of all the things. ARM FAT! Oh arm fat, I love you! NOT!

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Armpit Vagina.

I don’t think it’s bad to be big. In fact, I have a lot of friends who pull off a full figure very well and the absolutely adore themselves (as they should). It’s really about being comfortable and relaxed in your body. I know that’s ridiculously cliché, but after being a stick-thin starving artist and now being labeled as a “bold figure” by the gal at the Levi’s store, I am realizing that the skin on my body is not mine. There is a much happier person locked away in here somewhere, like I’m a sculpture that needs more chiseling (Wow, that was mad cheesy (I love cheese)). I seriously go out and am always thinking about how huge I feel and wondering if any notices just how fat my arms are. Some days I refuse to leave my house. It’s not abut the weight or the size, it’s about the flip and the flop; all that flab jumping about. I can feel it and it just feels wrong.

Thanks Goodness Gracious that I clean up pretty well when I slap on some make-up and hair-do, a dress, and what I like to call my “bike shorts.” I don’t feel that bad about myself when I’m in “costume.” Now if I could only get my thighs to have a fight and stop hanging out so much. I am learning the big girl tricks, like never leave home without baby powder… and just give up on wearing a belt entirely! I have also shunned bathing suits (that may have something to do with bad tattoos as well). All in all, I am ready to get my shit together… just in time for the end of bathing suit season.

I’ll keep you posted on my progress, because I know that you care.

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