Monthly Archives: August 2014

On Keeping track of myself and whatnot.

I am trying to teach myself to use technology, my smart phone and whatnot to keep better track of myself and I am learning some interesting things.

We know I am pro selfie. Take them, post them, talk about how hot you are.

Another thing I love about selfies is that they help me keep track of my face. Sometimes I feel like I am face blind to myself. Not that I literally forget what I look like but I get so wrapped up in everything else in life, I forget to look at my face.

My face today;

blowface

 

I took that after running around doing things and finally getting a second to sit down and sip my coffee and try to stop grinding my teeth.

A couple of months ago my Partner decided he was done hearing about/looking at my janky ass old phone. It was dying a slow terrible rage inducing death. So now I have a modern (as in is not 4 years old) phone that does a lot of things. One of the things it does is has multiple alarms and calenders, AND my favorite thing I’ve been using an app called Nexercise.

I’ve tried a few other exercise tracking apps and found them to be heavy on the weightloss and bullshit and we know I’m not into that.

It is not perfect but what I do like is that I can get points for rewards AND keep track of what I want to keep track of without messages telling me to lose weight or anything.

I’m also keeping track of my periods and how my skin looks.

What I’m finding out is that I am doing better than I thought I was.

What I mean by that is I have in the past year or so felt like I have not been good at taking care of my health and being a human. Not exercising enough, not eating well enough not being good enough at taking care of my body as it changes.

After a few months of consciously keeping track of myself this way I realized that holy shit, i am doing the thing.

I am doing Intuitive Eating as best I can. I eat when I’m hungry. If I can afford it I eat as I please. My digestive issues are way fewer and more far between, A while back I was feeling like I could not do intuitive eating “right”. I felt like i was failing at it really hard and the whole idea was stressing me out.

I spent some time re-reading about intuitive eating and reminding myself that while no the signals my body sends aren’t always the ones I expect but that I should listen.

It is working. I am pretty good at reading the signs that I need to eat, I’m realizing what foods I can and can’t tolerate and if I can’t tolerate them how much I can have before I feel like I’m going to poop my pants or be constipated.

I have regular good poops.

I exercise all together a lot. I average between 35-45 minutes a day all told. Not more than my body can handle but what feels like just enough to maintain my weight, feel good and shit.

I take my vitamins.

I got a water bottle that helps me track how much water I take in because too much and my kidneys hurt.

I am trying to work with myself on health problems that are lingering and that I’ve had for years and that I have a bad habit of exacerbating because of things like stress and whatnot.

I want to attribute my newfound dedication to preserving myself to the fact that I am racing toward 40 and I just cannot bull my way through health problems.

I still get frustrated when my knees hurt or my back starts knotting up so much I can’t sleep but it is getting easier for me to track the causes and ways I deal.

I really encourage those who also have some issues taking care of their health in a kind way, to try some of this stuff out. For me the real key was finding ways to aid in my care without it turning into disordered behaviors.

For those with serious disordered histories or other mental illnesses that can impact this sort of thing, it can be a fine line between things are okay and everything is terrible so proceed with caution. Try one thing at a time.

This whole process of relearning and learning new ways of caring for myself. I want to nurture myself to 40.

I want to arrive at 40 feeling myself and feeling enough confidence in my own ability to work myself out, that I don’t know.

I’m not saying I want to be better than whatever age or anythign like that but I want to make it to 40 with some things worked out. I want to strut into 40.

For so many years I thought 40 wasn’t going to be really attainable.

Now I’m so close, I’m fucking alive. I survived so much I’m ready.

I want my silver hairs, I want my little Crow’s feet, I want my 40 year old ass, I want all those years under my belt so I can rev up to 50.

Now what else?

OH I am wearing my favorite 5$ dress ever. I call it my Grandma’s Couch sundress and it is gaudier and more awesome up close. See it below.

dress

 

LOOK at the print.

This dress is about two sizes too big and I wear it with an equally violently pink cami underneath and I feel adorable. It is loose and comfy. Probably the best cheap dress I’ve ever purchased.

Let this be your daily reminder that it is really fucking awesome to feel good in your clothes.

Homo Out

OH wait PS.

I am still working out my commenting. I do not like the onboard comment system so I may move to disquis.

Stay tuned.

Fashion Regrets. I has them.

I was looking at faux leather leggings earlier and planning fall outfits in my head and I was taken over by the saddest nostalgia.

I was thinking about being a little baby fatty, in my midish twenties. I was a bit bigger than I am now and I remember I had some money for clothing.

If some of y’all are my age or older you may remember the leather pants Melissa Etheridge used to wear. Something like this, think jim Morrison with hips. I remember finding a pair of faux leather pants very similar to that and I tried them on.

At the time I almost started crying in the dressing room because I had a little belly and my big ass thighs and smallish butt.

So I was thinking about those pants and I wish I had bought them. Only because I would probably still have them and I want to wear them.

Right now at the size I am (small fat, round. Awesome belly) I want those pants. I want to wear them with a thin black tank top, with my little belly hanging over the low ass waistband. I want to wear them with my Docs or with the semi engineer style boots I have.

I feel like it would be perfect.

I am in mourning for all the clothes I didn’t think I could “pull off” because of my wee fat body. Because I believed that I would legitimately make people sick if they saw my belly and my muffin top (FUCK I loathe that term) or if it was clear that my stomach isn’t flat and my thighs not only touch they fucking cuddle while I walk.

I find it retroactively upsetting.

I am mourning the affordable underwire bikini tops, the booty shorts, the perfect fit sturdy twill zip front dresses, the pleated butt showing minis.

I am so sad that I was so ashamed of my fine ass chubby body I missed out on so much fashion awesome.

And now fast forward a bit more than a decade and I am seeing “vintage” (I think things should be older than a decade to be vintage but whatever) stuff that if it were in my size would be perfect and is just like stuff I had when it was all new.

I’m so sad.

And yet, I’m also scouring for these fashions and others because I’ve discovered that part of living in super health conscious Seattle means I have come to really enjoy traumatizing other people with my fatness.

For instance.

I was wearing one of my favorite things (this maxi skirt from Deb Shops in black of course) and a woman, maybe my age or a bit younger stopped me to let me know that someone had spanx on sale because she could see my “trouble” areas…you know my fat jiggling ass and was trying to do me a solid.

I smiled and told her politely that I like my jiggling trouble spot and I don’t need any Spanx.

I was really amused.

The thing is, I know that people tend to think I am way younger than I am but the fact is the older I get the fewer fucks I give.

The older I get the more amusement I get from the discomfort of other people in terms of my body. From the young ladies who were appalled at my furry armpits and unshaven legs to the friendly ladies offering advice about what’s flattering.

I just don’t care.

I want to spend my middle age looking precisely how I want to look.

Similarly I have been trying to refine my plans for body modification so I can start saving up.

Behold Maria Jose Cristerna.

 

I love her.

I love her.

If you don’t know who she is check her out on the internets.

I think she is one of the most beautiful human beings on the planet. She is honestly the epitome of looking however the fuck you want to me and I want grow up to give that few fucks.

I may not want her mods specifically but I want to reach my twilight years decorated and looking exactly how I please.

I wish someone could have told me way back then that I could in fact look how I want when i want. I wish someone would have told me that over and over again.

Sometimes I still have to tell myself. I still struggle on occasion with presenting myself the way I think I should versus how I want to.

Sometimes I lose faith in my own ability to support my need to look how the fuck I want to look.

Shit is hard but looking back at the young woman who so wanted to wear the things but was afraid to because OH NO FAT I think I can do it.

To that end I have my little stash of tattoo references, a list of a few more face holes I’d like punched in my dermis. I am learning that I can and should relearn how to sew in a more serious fashion.

This summer this is pretty much my look:

Dark lips and no fucks given.

Dark lips and no fucks given.

I’ve been experimenting with a few sheer items of clothing and trying to figure out layering when it is hot out. I haven’t been entirely successful but the evolution into an Evil Alien Nazgul Queen is happening.

And I will let it happen.

Even if it hurts sometimes.

Homo Out.