Blogging on the go

I finally got my iphone4. I can start blogging from here. Hells yea.

Ode to Ray

Never thinkWhat's in your heartWhat's in our homeSo I won't
You'll learn to hate meBut still call me babyOh LoveSo call me by my name
And save your soulsave your soulBefore you're too far goneBefore nothing can be done
I'll try to decide whenShe'll lie in the endI ain't got no fight in meIn this whole damn worldTelling you to hold offShe said hold onIt's the one thing that I've known
Once I put my coat onAnd how I know it's all wrongShe's standing outside holding meSaying oh pleaseI'm in loveI'm in love
Girl save your soulSave your soulBefore you're too far goneAnd before nothing can be done
'Cause without meYou got it allSo hold onWithout me you got it allSo hold onWithout me you got it allWithout me you got it allSo hold onWithout me you got it allSo hold onWithout me you got it allSo hold onHold on

The day that I went into labor I was 160 pounds.  After I gave birth I was down to 140 pounds.  I remember being so insecure because I still had a belly that looked pregnant.  I did not want to leave the house, and finding clothes to wear that didn't make me look pregnant was difficult.  I think I struggled more with the self image because I was not frolicking around with a beautiful newborn and I was terrified that, 1. Someone would ask me if I were pregnant (or when I was due) or 2.  If I had just had a baby (and where was said baby).  I was only ten pounds more than my pre-pregnancy weight, but it still sucked to look pregnant.  Not to mention my engorged breasts that were lactating constantly (that just basically added insult to injury).  Anyway - this is where my issues with my body began.

When I was sick I was dropping weight at a startling rate.  It was insane.  I had lost 12 pounds one week and 15 the next.  I weighed 118 pounds when I was diagnosed with Celiac.  I looked so gross - so sick.  I am sure 118 would have looked better if I was not so malnourished.  Nonetheless, I was able to put on eight pounds in a few months, and I was starting to look healthy.  In the month of September when I was feeling exhausted, I began to loose a lot more weight.  I was 108 pounds when I was admitted into the hospital.  I remember being so self conscious about my body.  My boobs had become so small that I wanted to leave my shirt on even when I was having sex.  I wore a size 3 in jeans and even that was too big.  I would get bruises on my spine if I sat on a hard chair for too long.  I was a mess.

I have been diagnosed and "healthy" for nearly two months now.  I am now at 135 pounds.  This is a healthy weight for me.  I am, however, continuing to pack on the pounds pretty steadily.  My doctors are saying this is from my insulin and hypo thyroid.  I have never been more self conscious than I am now.  I cannot seem to find a comfortable weight and it seems impossible that I would be able to maintain it if I could. 

I am not happy thin and I am not happy thick.  This is what society and media has done to women.  What the fuck.

• Today is Beatrice and Dexter's birthday.  They are 3 years old. 
• I cannot believe it has been 3 years since I lived at Hillcrest (well, 2.5 - but whatever)
• I am super hungry right now, but cannot eat because of my stupid diabetes.
• I should have ate more than stupid fries for dinner.  (It was my only gluten free option at the time)
• I wish my hair would grow a little faster.  I have a hairstyle I want to try out.
• I get super jealous sometimes when I look at pregnant women.  I want to kick them in the crotch and tell them that their story might turn out super shitty too.
• I am working on the above in therapy.
• I cried today in Philosophy when we were discussing the existence of God and why God allows evil.  The example the Prof. made us discuss was why God allows for babies to die.  I didn't partake in the discussion.  I just sat there and let tears roll down my face.
• I am super excited for Christmas break and I have no idea why.
• I am not looking forward to my birthday and I do not know why.
• I 'liked' a band on facebook today.
• When I realized the band I 'liked' was my ex husbands, I unliked it.
• I want a cigarette super bad right now.

Grumbles.

Dance will always be my first choice.

When I was 18, if I had known this could have been an option for a career for me - I would have never given up dance.  I want to be a B Girl sooo bad.  Sadly, I am more like the girl in the yellow skirt.  I miss performing so much when I watch performances like this.  This is, by far, my favorite performance of anything - ever.  You should watch it a few times to catch all of the amaze-ness.

Giving credit where credit is due.

After this semester, I believe that I have about three semesters left of my undergrad.  This means that I only have one semester before I have to decide whether to apply to Graduate School or Law School.  If I choose to apply to Law School, then I must begin to prepare for my LSAT test.  This fact is utterly absurd to me.  I still feel like a child in the fifth grade.  How is this even a possible scenario for me?  I digress.

I have done a pretty awesome job at scattering out my classes so that I am not taking all 400 level classes at once.  I mix up my senior classes with some two and three hundred level classes for sanity purposes.  I have not taken the default classes that everyone seems to take (and hate), when required to fulfill things like the visual literacy requirement, etc...  This means that this semester I took a 200 level theater art class rather than some crappy 100 level visual literacy class.  I will admit, it was very intimidating at first being that I am not, and have never been - an artist.  We have multiple art projects due throughout the semester which we have to present - in front of the class.  Ouch.  My first presentation, during my presentation, my professor asked me if I was an Art major.  I laughed and just blew him off, I mean....what is he thinking?  It is now the end of the semester and our projects have become more demanding and much much more detailed.  I am now asked to actually draw things.  I have spent time drawing multiple things required for the course.  Faces, clothing, etc...  I was shocked to see how well I have done.  I left my drawing pad on the table in the family room.  I asked Ray last night if he had looked at my drawings.  Indeed, he did and he mentioned that they were really good.  I think we were both surprised at my artistic abilities.  I said to him, "Babe.  I didn't even know that I could draw!"  He replied, "You didn't think you could cook either, but you can do that well too!  I just don't think that you try."  .......I just don't think that you try.  He is absolutely right.  I do not give myself enough credit.  I have never given myself enough credit.

And with that thought, I have decided to give Law School a try.  I have proven over and over that, if I put my mind to something - and actually try - I do really really well.  Every semester I have come out with a 3.8 - 4.0 GPA.  I have gotten my GPA up from a really pathetic score (from when I was a stupid 18 year old who totally fucked up) just by really trying.  I just need to try.  I cannot let fear of failure to keep me from trying.  Because failing is okay as long as I really tried.

I have not really voiced my desire for this in any sort of serious manner to anyone other than Ray.  Not even an hour after our conversation, Ray had already gotten my LSAT practice tests to me.  I have decided to make my Christmas Break my start to really prepare for the test.

Gulp....nervous.

And yet another song that appropriately goes with the blog.