Lately, I am experiencing a new surge of materialism, which is a reminder that one purchase does not quell the desire for stuff but enhances it.
Chris and I both have recently become the proud owners of the material possessions known as bikes. I am very, very happy that we have them. I've been riding mine to work and the Y. Chris has been riding his about 10 miles a day (21 yesterday). I'm sooooo pleased about us having bikes and actually using them.
So am I content to go out and use my bike all the time and forget about making any other purchases? Nope. Yesterday, I bought new sneakers. To be fair, I bought my old pair 5 years ago and have worn the soles smooth-ish. My feet and knees have been hurting after zumba. It was time. After hours reviewing sneakers online, I ordered a pair from Dick's Sporting Goods online.
That should have been enough, but while on their website I also looked at a resistance band and earplugs for swimming. I almost bought both, but I found out I was $1 away from getting a reward that would cover most of the resistance band, so I put that on hold. I convinced myself I need it so I could get a better workout with one of my Denise Austin cheesy 90s workout videos. The earplugs I had been planning to get for some time because I do swim and I also tend to get swimmer's ear, so I feel like that's okay--and those are super cheap.
Materialism quelled? Again, no. I went to track my order to see if they were super fast and had already shipped the items yesterday and somehow found myself looking at canoes and then grills. Ridiculous. Both would be nice, except I would never use them with my partner in crime being five hours away. I'm not very good about doing things by myself.
Instead I made myself a list of activity gear, then I made myself some rules for purchases. Big ticket items like the grill and canoe cannot be purchased until my car is paid off. Little items like tennis balls, reflective gear for biking, and new fitness clothes must be earned. I haven't decided just how yet. I'm thinking maybe a short story or five must be written, polished, and posted on my blog in order to earn such things.
I may have to apply this reward system to clothing shopping too.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Saturday, August 18, 2012
When Did I Turn Mean?
I used to be a very, very nice person. It was my super power. You can pick, and pick, and pick at Cheryl, but she will quietly deal and still be nice. When did I stop doing that?
Now I get fired up about something and post a heated opinion on facebook. It might even offend people, and I'm not bothered by that, whereas I used to get annoyed with everyone's rhetoric. I might think to myself "Yes, that's true, but it won't convince anyone if they keep saying it that way. They're only offending people."
I used to have this response to a lot of feminist material that was man bashing and minority rhetoric that was white bashing. Yes, these powers need subverted, suppressed, but angry rants don't do a thing to change minds.
I realized recently when reading an angry rant in response to some oppressive, anti-women, legislation that angry rants aren't always about convincing the other side. Sometimes you can't convince the other side, so the only thing you can do is to rant angrily to get your own side fired up. Get them mad, make them passionate. This is a huge motivator to get people to vote. It's why politics get so ugly. Fearmonger long enough and well enough and people will have no choice but to vote for you because they're terrified of what the other side would do in office.
This cycle will never break. Fear will always be a greater motivator than any passionate agreement. But I used to feel very passionate about breaking this cycle. And I think it's still an admirable goal and effort regardless of its feasibility.
Today I was called "nice" as if somehow being nice makes me naive and simple. My views will be wrong because they aren't adequately jaded. And suddenly I'm fired up again about being the person who won't get angry, who won't be driven to fear. I will not be convinced to treat others with disdain as if to bring them down. This is an aggressive act and will be seen as an attempt to rise above them, to be the new superior ranking individual. No. I will not be shamed for my niceness. I will embrace it, and I will hope that is can create the change I hope to see in the world because I do have a world vision.
This might sound a bit communist at first, but I want to be passionate about being nice and establishing a more cohesive community-minded society through niceness. Our society is sooo individualistic, and I think that's why capitalism is failing. I believe in capitalism. I believe it is more efficient than government intervention, but I've lost faith in our cultural ability to make capitalism work. Capitalism will always fail as long as some people think that sharing with others is an enabling force and that wealth is somehow a sign of hard work and poverty a sign of laziness.
No money will trickle down from people at the top who look at the bottom and think those people aren't working hard enough or they're not educated enough. Those people at the top (most of them) have never been at the bottom and can't fairly assess the needs of people down there. If we can change our cultural mindset and recognize the humanity in eachother more through productive communication and niceness, we might actually be able to see capitalism succeed, but successful capitalism requires sharing of wealth, and since we can't be responsible enough to do that on our own, or government is going to have to step in and do it for us.
There are people working for 60 hours a week at 3 part-time jobs, earning minimum wage, and they are making far less than I do but working so much harder. They don't have benefits, and they can keep working that hard until they die, and the will probably never have anything to show for it. And don't blame them for not getting an education. They were lucky to finish high school because they started two of those jobs back then to help their parents pay bills when their younger sibling got sick and there was no insurance to cover it. And if they start dealing drugs or stealing cars and bicycles and reselling them to make money, who can blame them? What other choice did they have for success?
There are people at the top born into so much wealth and privilege, who are generous to the extent that they get a tax break, and whose money is all carefully invested by other people paid to do so. Those people may never have to work in their lives. The work they do, they do so as not to get bored, but they don't know what it's like to be at the bottom. They imagine people at the bottom are lazy and that's why they have no money.
And there are those of us in the middle, feeling like we are so strapped for cash but able to take long hot showers and baths when we want, and buy groceries that we can let go bad and throw away, and afford TV and internet. We manage to not feel guilty about the poor because we think we work hard, and, well, we just try not to think about it so that we can remain comfortable.
We build our own narratives of hard work to convince ourselves of what we deserve. We barrier ourselves from others so that we can stay ignorant and not feel any responsibility. Enough. Let's open the lines and become a real community. You want capitalism to work? Start by being nice.
Now I get fired up about something and post a heated opinion on facebook. It might even offend people, and I'm not bothered by that, whereas I used to get annoyed with everyone's rhetoric. I might think to myself "Yes, that's true, but it won't convince anyone if they keep saying it that way. They're only offending people."
I used to have this response to a lot of feminist material that was man bashing and minority rhetoric that was white bashing. Yes, these powers need subverted, suppressed, but angry rants don't do a thing to change minds.
I realized recently when reading an angry rant in response to some oppressive, anti-women, legislation that angry rants aren't always about convincing the other side. Sometimes you can't convince the other side, so the only thing you can do is to rant angrily to get your own side fired up. Get them mad, make them passionate. This is a huge motivator to get people to vote. It's why politics get so ugly. Fearmonger long enough and well enough and people will have no choice but to vote for you because they're terrified of what the other side would do in office.
This cycle will never break. Fear will always be a greater motivator than any passionate agreement. But I used to feel very passionate about breaking this cycle. And I think it's still an admirable goal and effort regardless of its feasibility.
Today I was called "nice" as if somehow being nice makes me naive and simple. My views will be wrong because they aren't adequately jaded. And suddenly I'm fired up again about being the person who won't get angry, who won't be driven to fear. I will not be convinced to treat others with disdain as if to bring them down. This is an aggressive act and will be seen as an attempt to rise above them, to be the new superior ranking individual. No. I will not be shamed for my niceness. I will embrace it, and I will hope that is can create the change I hope to see in the world because I do have a world vision.
This might sound a bit communist at first, but I want to be passionate about being nice and establishing a more cohesive community-minded society through niceness. Our society is sooo individualistic, and I think that's why capitalism is failing. I believe in capitalism. I believe it is more efficient than government intervention, but I've lost faith in our cultural ability to make capitalism work. Capitalism will always fail as long as some people think that sharing with others is an enabling force and that wealth is somehow a sign of hard work and poverty a sign of laziness.
No money will trickle down from people at the top who look at the bottom and think those people aren't working hard enough or they're not educated enough. Those people at the top (most of them) have never been at the bottom and can't fairly assess the needs of people down there. If we can change our cultural mindset and recognize the humanity in eachother more through productive communication and niceness, we might actually be able to see capitalism succeed, but successful capitalism requires sharing of wealth, and since we can't be responsible enough to do that on our own, or government is going to have to step in and do it for us.
There are people working for 60 hours a week at 3 part-time jobs, earning minimum wage, and they are making far less than I do but working so much harder. They don't have benefits, and they can keep working that hard until they die, and the will probably never have anything to show for it. And don't blame them for not getting an education. They were lucky to finish high school because they started two of those jobs back then to help their parents pay bills when their younger sibling got sick and there was no insurance to cover it. And if they start dealing drugs or stealing cars and bicycles and reselling them to make money, who can blame them? What other choice did they have for success?
There are people at the top born into so much wealth and privilege, who are generous to the extent that they get a tax break, and whose money is all carefully invested by other people paid to do so. Those people may never have to work in their lives. The work they do, they do so as not to get bored, but they don't know what it's like to be at the bottom. They imagine people at the bottom are lazy and that's why they have no money.
And there are those of us in the middle, feeling like we are so strapped for cash but able to take long hot showers and baths when we want, and buy groceries that we can let go bad and throw away, and afford TV and internet. We manage to not feel guilty about the poor because we think we work hard, and, well, we just try not to think about it so that we can remain comfortable.
We build our own narratives of hard work to convince ourselves of what we deserve. We barrier ourselves from others so that we can stay ignorant and not feel any responsibility. Enough. Let's open the lines and become a real community. You want capitalism to work? Start by being nice.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Watch the Crowd Stalk Its Prey
Gene Wolfe writes in The Shadow of the Torturer: "A crowd is not the sum of the individuals who compose it. Rather it is a species of animal, without language or real consciousness, born when they gather, dying when they depart."
I like that, and I kind of like to think that politics work this way. They are sort of non-physical crowd that has formed but has no real consciousness and though formed of people, it is not a manifestation representative of those people but a separate entity that the people are a part of but intellectually separate from.
Religion too can work this way. And yet my favorite saint, Saint Francis de Sales, convinced thousands upon thousands of Calvinists to return to the Catholic Church by the complete opposite argument. His basic idea was this: the Church is composed of its people and staying with the Church and voicing your dissent keeps the Church a stronger unified body working to change itself and improve instead of the Church breaking down into smaller weaker groups. He was operating in the 16th Century, and his belief was the strength and goodness of the people redeemed the Church against the corruption of its leaders at that time.
Saint Francis de Sales argument is compelling, and there is a certain strength in a unified body that is willing to self-evaluate and make change, but is it really possible for that sort of group consciousness and self-awareness? Gene Wolfe's character Severian would say it isn't because he sees the crowd for a mindless beast.
I think Severian is right. Humans are social creatures (whether or not the American Dream tells us we earn things independently by our own hard effort). We conform to the crowd and lose ourselves within it.
So take some time today to look at your crowds, whether they be political, religious, or otherwise, and really think hard on your own independent views. Voice your dissent. Be outspoken. Ensure that your crowd exercises self-awareness, self-evaluation, and the flexibility to change for the better. Don't let it get sucked into tradition as if history alone makes something good and equitable.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Farmers' Market Fail (ish)
So the red onion linguine I was so excited about...not really that fabulous. In fact it's pretty much wheat pasta with a vague hint of sweet red onion, and all the fabulous color bled out when I cooked it. Total fail.
My eggplant was pretty good though. I just threw it in a pot with mushrooms, tomatoes, onion, jalapeno, and a carrot. I seasoned my pot o' veggies with corianger, smoked paprika, and a tiny bit of cumin. I really cooked the veggies down to mix them in with the boring pasta. Yum! The veggies were fab.
I also bought some sweet italian sausage that paired nicely with it all. I won't be buying the fancy pasta again. I will stick to buying glorious veggies at the farmers' market.
My eggplant was pretty good though. I just threw it in a pot with mushrooms, tomatoes, onion, jalapeno, and a carrot. I seasoned my pot o' veggies with corianger, smoked paprika, and a tiny bit of cumin. I really cooked the veggies down to mix them in with the boring pasta. Yum! The veggies were fab.
I also bought some sweet italian sausage that paired nicely with it all. I won't be buying the fancy pasta again. I will stick to buying glorious veggies at the farmers' market.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Farmer's Market Find #1
I like to talk about food, so I am thinking I will do a "Farmer's Market Find" of the week every Saturday.
Today my find was Pappardelle's Sweet Red Onion Linguine. I'm a little sad to discover that they are not local. In fact they are huge and nationwide, but I don't think that diminishes the joy I find at discovering a sweet red onion pasta. Let's not go into how much effort it took not to also buy the orange szechuan or the dark chocolate linguines. Yes...they have dessert pastas, I know! The selections are so tempting, and choosing is so difficult.
I'll need to figure out what to do with this pasta, but I bought an assortment of Schurl essentials, some of which I can perhaps pair with this beautiful pasta. Other finds include: 1 white onion, 9 beautiful large button mushrooms, 1 pound of very red tomatoes, and 3 skinny eggplants. I've also got some carrots in the fridge purchased last week that need to be eaten.
I'm thinking I need to keep things simple with this pasta, so maybe I will just cook and serve them with a little oil. Maybe a light touch of parmesan shavings?
I can eat the eggplant on the side, I think. Don't even ask how I plan to prepare this purple mystery food. I want to love eggplant, but I have no idea how to cook it successfully or season it so that it tastes worth eating at all. I bought them as a gesture towards figuring that out.
This will be a meatless meal since the animal fleshes in my fridge at present are some swai (fish) and bacon. Yes, animal fleshes. I spend a lot of time with my vegan friend Molly lately, so I feel inclined to emphasize meat in ways that might bother her. I love to eat animal flesh, and I think it is a most natural thing, though I don't mind a meal without flesh or even without dairy. I'll be eating a vegan dinner with Molly this evening.
Anywho, if you're wondering, my beet adventure resulting from the farmers' market visit last week was pretty fabulous. I ate two helpings of beets, which was a poor choice since they can be rough on your digestive tract until you are adjusted. Regardless, I went for the roasted beets with cumin, lime, and mint. It was sooooo tasty. I'm not sure I recommend eating beet leaves like one would Swiss chard though. They were pretty bitter.
That is all, I guess.
Today my find was Pappardelle's Sweet Red Onion Linguine. I'm a little sad to discover that they are not local. In fact they are huge and nationwide, but I don't think that diminishes the joy I find at discovering a sweet red onion pasta. Let's not go into how much effort it took not to also buy the orange szechuan or the dark chocolate linguines. Yes...they have dessert pastas, I know! The selections are so tempting, and choosing is so difficult.
I'll need to figure out what to do with this pasta, but I bought an assortment of Schurl essentials, some of which I can perhaps pair with this beautiful pasta. Other finds include: 1 white onion, 9 beautiful large button mushrooms, 1 pound of very red tomatoes, and 3 skinny eggplants. I've also got some carrots in the fridge purchased last week that need to be eaten.
I'm thinking I need to keep things simple with this pasta, so maybe I will just cook and serve them with a little oil. Maybe a light touch of parmesan shavings?
I can eat the eggplant on the side, I think. Don't even ask how I plan to prepare this purple mystery food. I want to love eggplant, but I have no idea how to cook it successfully or season it so that it tastes worth eating at all. I bought them as a gesture towards figuring that out.
This will be a meatless meal since the animal fleshes in my fridge at present are some swai (fish) and bacon. Yes, animal fleshes. I spend a lot of time with my vegan friend Molly lately, so I feel inclined to emphasize meat in ways that might bother her. I love to eat animal flesh, and I think it is a most natural thing, though I don't mind a meal without flesh or even without dairy. I'll be eating a vegan dinner with Molly this evening.
Anywho, if you're wondering, my beet adventure resulting from the farmers' market visit last week was pretty fabulous. I ate two helpings of beets, which was a poor choice since they can be rough on your digestive tract until you are adjusted. Regardless, I went for the roasted beets with cumin, lime, and mint. It was sooooo tasty. I'm not sure I recommend eating beet leaves like one would Swiss chard though. They were pretty bitter.
That is all, I guess.
Friday, July 13, 2012
You Did It to Yourself
I just read this blog: Open Letter From a Millenial: Quit Telling Us We're Not Special. It made some good points about how younger generations struggle in ways we were not prepared for. And while I sympathize with some commenters who are older and experience the same struggles, I wonder if the mindset isn't still slightly different.
I was brought up to work hard at school, work hard at my job, and I was told I would succeed. My parents genuinely believe I can do anything. I agree that I'm pretty smart, but anything? Really? I'm too scared of failure. Trying is scary because the've made no room for failure. I settle for mediocre because it's safe. Smart or not, there are smarter more hardworking people out there. There are probably a lot of people with more impressive backgrounds too. As the author of the blog emphasized, I know I'm not special. I'm capable, but not special, and I'm not usually convinced that the full application of my capacity is worth the effort.
I have a Master's degree. I rocked grad school. But what does that mean? Not a heck of a lot. Not much at all. And I can be sensible. I know I am perhaps too educated. When I was worried that nobody would hire me post grad school because of this, my dad said to me, "You did it to yourself." And I felt some righteous indignation. I thought, you're my Dad, you're not supposed to say that. When I read the blog above, I was reminded of this comment, and I thought. No, I didn't really do this to myself because my dad was psyched when I said I was going to grad school and I was going to be teaching to pay my way. He told everyone.
My parents trained me up to be an academic--school was emphasized, but nothing beyond it. They acted like I had a bright and exciting future in front of me, but the vision stopped at that. I sometimes think it's bright, but not the brightness that was envisioned for me. It's the brightness of having a fully charged flashlight in a world of power outage. I have a job with insurance and other benefits. I think that's awesome. Lots of my friends don't have jobs. My last job didn't have benefits. It seems so cool that I have these very basic things when I know so many without. I do not live with my parents, and I can pay all my own bills. Go me!
Then a family friend asked me what I make. Feeling pretty proud of myself because, for a person with an English degree, I think I'm doing fabulously well. When I told her, her face fell, "that's not very much." No, no it isn't, but when I look around at the world today, I feel so much relief in the present knowing that I can take care of myself.
But don't get me thinking about the future. I started paying into my first retirement account at 22, the minute I got out of college. Back then, I was hoping I'd have a second account started for my parents because I know they won't be ready, and I can't rely on Social Security to take care of them. I can't afford that account I dream of setting up for them. I pay my bills and not much is leftover. I eat out maybe 4 times a month, and that's it. My expendible income is exhausted at that point.
Will I ever own a house? I have my doubts. I'm not sure I'll ever own a dog. Will I ever be able to afford kids? Maybe, but I'm not sure I'd ever be brave enough to take maternity leave to pop out tiny people to terrorize the earth.
Do I even want to invest in any of those things? I dunno. My fear about Social Security failing to take care of my parents and being entirely unavailable to me reflects the real concerns of my generation. The nation sometimes seems to be crumbling. I've thought about storing money under my matress instead of keeping a savings account, but then I think to myself, if the nation crumbles, will the currency even be valid? That's the world I live in.
Older middle class generations worried about buying a house and investing in stocks. Now they worry about keeping their homes and losing their jobs. I worry about the entire systems failure. If the banks fail and the nation shatters, I have nothing, not even the basic resources to feed myself. I live in a second floor apartment with a single north-facing window. Plants are doomed here. Maybe I read too much post-apocalyptic fiction, but those are my fears. My fears are not about being unsuccessful or losing my material wealth. My fears reflect a much greater potential for chaos in my future.
A Masters in English wasn't the smartest decision, no. I'll admit that. I should have married a farmer and worked with my hands because sometimes I think I should worry about a future where an education is worth nothing, but I was raised up to be an academic, to meet the expectations of an unsustainable American dream destined to whither before I could even attempt it.
I was brought up to work hard at school, work hard at my job, and I was told I would succeed. My parents genuinely believe I can do anything. I agree that I'm pretty smart, but anything? Really? I'm too scared of failure. Trying is scary because the've made no room for failure. I settle for mediocre because it's safe. Smart or not, there are smarter more hardworking people out there. There are probably a lot of people with more impressive backgrounds too. As the author of the blog emphasized, I know I'm not special. I'm capable, but not special, and I'm not usually convinced that the full application of my capacity is worth the effort.
I have a Master's degree. I rocked grad school. But what does that mean? Not a heck of a lot. Not much at all. And I can be sensible. I know I am perhaps too educated. When I was worried that nobody would hire me post grad school because of this, my dad said to me, "You did it to yourself." And I felt some righteous indignation. I thought, you're my Dad, you're not supposed to say that. When I read the blog above, I was reminded of this comment, and I thought. No, I didn't really do this to myself because my dad was psyched when I said I was going to grad school and I was going to be teaching to pay my way. He told everyone.
My parents trained me up to be an academic--school was emphasized, but nothing beyond it. They acted like I had a bright and exciting future in front of me, but the vision stopped at that. I sometimes think it's bright, but not the brightness that was envisioned for me. It's the brightness of having a fully charged flashlight in a world of power outage. I have a job with insurance and other benefits. I think that's awesome. Lots of my friends don't have jobs. My last job didn't have benefits. It seems so cool that I have these very basic things when I know so many without. I do not live with my parents, and I can pay all my own bills. Go me!
Then a family friend asked me what I make. Feeling pretty proud of myself because, for a person with an English degree, I think I'm doing fabulously well. When I told her, her face fell, "that's not very much." No, no it isn't, but when I look around at the world today, I feel so much relief in the present knowing that I can take care of myself.
But don't get me thinking about the future. I started paying into my first retirement account at 22, the minute I got out of college. Back then, I was hoping I'd have a second account started for my parents because I know they won't be ready, and I can't rely on Social Security to take care of them. I can't afford that account I dream of setting up for them. I pay my bills and not much is leftover. I eat out maybe 4 times a month, and that's it. My expendible income is exhausted at that point.
Will I ever own a house? I have my doubts. I'm not sure I'll ever own a dog. Will I ever be able to afford kids? Maybe, but I'm not sure I'd ever be brave enough to take maternity leave to pop out tiny people to terrorize the earth.
Do I even want to invest in any of those things? I dunno. My fear about Social Security failing to take care of my parents and being entirely unavailable to me reflects the real concerns of my generation. The nation sometimes seems to be crumbling. I've thought about storing money under my matress instead of keeping a savings account, but then I think to myself, if the nation crumbles, will the currency even be valid? That's the world I live in.
Older middle class generations worried about buying a house and investing in stocks. Now they worry about keeping their homes and losing their jobs. I worry about the entire systems failure. If the banks fail and the nation shatters, I have nothing, not even the basic resources to feed myself. I live in a second floor apartment with a single north-facing window. Plants are doomed here. Maybe I read too much post-apocalyptic fiction, but those are my fears. My fears are not about being unsuccessful or losing my material wealth. My fears reflect a much greater potential for chaos in my future.
A Masters in English wasn't the smartest decision, no. I'll admit that. I should have married a farmer and worked with my hands because sometimes I think I should worry about a future where an education is worth nothing, but I was raised up to be an academic, to meet the expectations of an unsustainable American dream destined to whither before I could even attempt it.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Sundays are for Dreaming
Sometimes, I find Sundays are for getting things done--all the things that I should have done on Saturday but didn't because I was being a bum or had too many social plans. On Sundays, I clean; I run errands; I cook and bake.
Sometimes, I find Sundays are for thought, for deep thinking. On Sundays, I'll sit in the bathtub and read a book. On Sundays, I sometimes actually write and draw. On Sundays, I sit around with ideas, write blogs I'll never publish, read articles, makes lists and plans to do things I will probably never do. Sunday is often a day for dreaming of how I want my life to be. Life may never be as I dream it, but I think the exercise of dreaming it is important. It keeps me sane. Dreams are what keep everyone sane. Lord knows our lives usually aren't cut out to do that for us.
Today, like many days the plan I'm making is to be more fit, to control my gluttony and work out more regularly. I live such a sedentary life. Eight or nine hours for five days a week barely moving from my chair at work, pulling cookies out of my desk drawer when I just can't take the brain drain of work anymore.
If I'm good, I go to the Y after work, get sweaty and gross or chlorinated in the pool for an hour. I'm often not good and go straight home.
Then I eat, and if I'm good it's full of vegetables and few carbs and meat, but someitmes I'm bad and it's nachos. Mmmmm, nachos. Lately there is always ice cream, which is often paired with chocolate cake. Don't judge me--it's all homemade and gloriously irresistable. I like to think that even if I'm indulging in too much fat and sugar at least there are few to no preservatives.
This eating takes place at the coffee table, in front of the computer or the TV (often both). I might spend the evening reading with my laptop ready should Chris pop in to chat, or watching my latest television show, rarely remembering to justify it by crocheting.
In other words, I go from glued to a desk chair all day, to glued to a couch, and then I sleep, glued to my bed. I don't move. I may grow moss soon, and while I like the image of me starting to take root, turning tree-like, growing moss, sprouting leaves, and generally becoming covered in vegetation, in reality I know that what's happening is my metabolism is slowing, and my blood pressure is lowering, and I may start to build up fat in my system even though I look pretty healthy, on the thinner side of curvy. This misleading appearance may be the bain of my motivation to actually be fit.
I need a non-appearance related goal that is also not tied to a fitness routine (I will fudge a fitness routine), so my goal is to get back to the weight I was when I know I was healthy, when I worked out twice a day, ate five snacks instead of three meals, and counted my calories. I was in such incredible control of my food intake and my fitness, and I locked in to a weight range about ten pounds lighter than my current range. I never got below that, I just stayed there no matter what I tried to do, so I'm going to try to get back there. Although given the lapsed time since then, perhaps my current weight is the new minimum. Female bodies are known for such shifts.
Now that that's all planned, I'll probably go read in the bathtub and dream of a small house with no extra space. I want a backyard with a garden (which in reality I would have a patch of ground where nothing comes up and things that did would be withered), a big lazy adoring dog, and perhaps some chickens for fresh eggs. This house should have a little garage on the side where I can park my car and do some creative projects--refinish and reupholster furniture. That's the dream, but it's entirely unrealistic at the moment.
Sometimes, I find Sundays are for thought, for deep thinking. On Sundays, I'll sit in the bathtub and read a book. On Sundays, I sometimes actually write and draw. On Sundays, I sit around with ideas, write blogs I'll never publish, read articles, makes lists and plans to do things I will probably never do. Sunday is often a day for dreaming of how I want my life to be. Life may never be as I dream it, but I think the exercise of dreaming it is important. It keeps me sane. Dreams are what keep everyone sane. Lord knows our lives usually aren't cut out to do that for us.
Today, like many days the plan I'm making is to be more fit, to control my gluttony and work out more regularly. I live such a sedentary life. Eight or nine hours for five days a week barely moving from my chair at work, pulling cookies out of my desk drawer when I just can't take the brain drain of work anymore.
If I'm good, I go to the Y after work, get sweaty and gross or chlorinated in the pool for an hour. I'm often not good and go straight home.
Then I eat, and if I'm good it's full of vegetables and few carbs and meat, but someitmes I'm bad and it's nachos. Mmmmm, nachos. Lately there is always ice cream, which is often paired with chocolate cake. Don't judge me--it's all homemade and gloriously irresistable. I like to think that even if I'm indulging in too much fat and sugar at least there are few to no preservatives.
This eating takes place at the coffee table, in front of the computer or the TV (often both). I might spend the evening reading with my laptop ready should Chris pop in to chat, or watching my latest television show, rarely remembering to justify it by crocheting.
In other words, I go from glued to a desk chair all day, to glued to a couch, and then I sleep, glued to my bed. I don't move. I may grow moss soon, and while I like the image of me starting to take root, turning tree-like, growing moss, sprouting leaves, and generally becoming covered in vegetation, in reality I know that what's happening is my metabolism is slowing, and my blood pressure is lowering, and I may start to build up fat in my system even though I look pretty healthy, on the thinner side of curvy. This misleading appearance may be the bain of my motivation to actually be fit.
I need a non-appearance related goal that is also not tied to a fitness routine (I will fudge a fitness routine), so my goal is to get back to the weight I was when I know I was healthy, when I worked out twice a day, ate five snacks instead of three meals, and counted my calories. I was in such incredible control of my food intake and my fitness, and I locked in to a weight range about ten pounds lighter than my current range. I never got below that, I just stayed there no matter what I tried to do, so I'm going to try to get back there. Although given the lapsed time since then, perhaps my current weight is the new minimum. Female bodies are known for such shifts.
Now that that's all planned, I'll probably go read in the bathtub and dream of a small house with no extra space. I want a backyard with a garden (which in reality I would have a patch of ground where nothing comes up and things that did would be withered), a big lazy adoring dog, and perhaps some chickens for fresh eggs. This house should have a little garage on the side where I can park my car and do some creative projects--refinish and reupholster furniture. That's the dream, but it's entirely unrealistic at the moment.
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