The Things You Love
So I am day 7 of giving up cheese. (though there was one day where I had a slip up--I am keeping the proper count to stay loyal to the process) I had decided that for Valetine's Day I would make a promise to myself--to make a healthier lifestyle choice and get back to the body goals I set for myself. Part of this was feeling a bit more wider than usual and part of it was my curiosity of what i could accomplish.
So the current plan is working out at least five days a week--which is possible--and giving up on cheese as way to manage my fat content and force more veggies into my mouth. In some ways it has worked with more salad, more side veggies with dinner but most importantly--it is less easy to absent-mindedly pop things into my mouth.
And I can see a change. I just have to work on keep that change constant and making sure it is what i want and remembering how to get it. I want to look good and feel good--both about how I look but about my general health. It is hard at points but the boy is good in supporting me and I am even better at remembering why i want what I want.
And now it is time to work out--which is something I have come to love.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Adding To The Story
For the boyfriend's birthday I decided the best way to celebrate a big number was for us to FINALLY go on a trip of our own... No friends or weddings, family or birthdays but just the two of us on our own seeing somewhere new together.
I picked San Francisco because I knew enough about the city to have things to show but not too much to not be able to find new things. Johnno hadn't been since he was young so it would be new to him and the perfect mix of exeprience and possibility. I was excited to be able to show something to him but more to crreate something for us.
We flew out on a Friday night--delayed of course--but we finally arrived in the city in the dark of night. After a hair-raising super shuttle ride which involved us being lost for another of a time period to make me more insane--we finally found our cute little bed and breakfast in Castro. I figured Castro was gay enough, foot friendly enough and romantic enough for us to have something to do each day even if we never left it.
But of course we did the gayborhood and head out into the city. I immediately got us lost trying to walk down to the wharf--sending us up a hill and away from the water which is pretty impressive considering you can see where the damn water is. The iphone--aka my arch enemy--was of no use and it took a bit to get things going right but once we did--it was off and running.
We managed to make our way through the city to the water, see the seals, pictures of the Golden Gate Bridge, and more confusion as we tried to find the right bar. We were on a mission and hungry and tired--which is not a good combination for either of us but we eventually collapsed into the Buena Vista for amazing Irish coffees and conversation.
This is where the romance part started. We spend time lingering over coffees and tellling each other stories about who we were before "us"; about the people dated before, the things we did as kids, the little pieces of histroy that somehow had stayed in the background. It was relaxing and reassuring that we continue to have so much to say to each other, still so much to share and live through together. Sometimes the hardest part is to not assume or get comfortable--this afternoon showed me how much more we could have to be for each other.
We then spent the remainder of the day exploring--post sex nap--and I showed him the little things I learned about the city from other trips. We stood in the City Lights bookstore and looked at books about the Beat poets and drank in the atmosphere as writers can do. We wandered the dark streets of Chinatown and laughed at the umbrellas and kimonios, the geisha pictures and lucky cat statues. We had dinner at the same romantic resteraunt I took Chloe once by accident--we stared out over the city as we sipped cocktails and enjoyed great food. And even though the fortune cookie through me off--"accept the next proposition you get"... We recovered from fate's plans and made our way back out into the streets.
We drank in pretty bars and ate lunch next to dogs, we played pool in bars named after famous whales and shared champaigne while ignoring the Super Bowl for a bit... We had many more moments--holding hands and little smiles, lots of moments that should make me embarrassed.... I never knew how much a bed and breakfast can make you feel like you are having sex in your parents house.
And then it was time to come home--back to where we both live and sleep. There was something reassuring about that--to know we had a place to belong after we saw the city together. It wasn't so much about the Dollhouse but about us having a home with each other. It's the major plot of our lives right now.
For the boyfriend's birthday I decided the best way to celebrate a big number was for us to FINALLY go on a trip of our own... No friends or weddings, family or birthdays but just the two of us on our own seeing somewhere new together.
I picked San Francisco because I knew enough about the city to have things to show but not too much to not be able to find new things. Johnno hadn't been since he was young so it would be new to him and the perfect mix of exeprience and possibility. I was excited to be able to show something to him but more to crreate something for us.
We flew out on a Friday night--delayed of course--but we finally arrived in the city in the dark of night. After a hair-raising super shuttle ride which involved us being lost for another of a time period to make me more insane--we finally found our cute little bed and breakfast in Castro. I figured Castro was gay enough, foot friendly enough and romantic enough for us to have something to do each day even if we never left it.
But of course we did the gayborhood and head out into the city. I immediately got us lost trying to walk down to the wharf--sending us up a hill and away from the water which is pretty impressive considering you can see where the damn water is. The iphone--aka my arch enemy--was of no use and it took a bit to get things going right but once we did--it was off and running.
We managed to make our way through the city to the water, see the seals, pictures of the Golden Gate Bridge, and more confusion as we tried to find the right bar. We were on a mission and hungry and tired--which is not a good combination for either of us but we eventually collapsed into the Buena Vista for amazing Irish coffees and conversation.
This is where the romance part started. We spend time lingering over coffees and tellling each other stories about who we were before "us"; about the people dated before, the things we did as kids, the little pieces of histroy that somehow had stayed in the background. It was relaxing and reassuring that we continue to have so much to say to each other, still so much to share and live through together. Sometimes the hardest part is to not assume or get comfortable--this afternoon showed me how much more we could have to be for each other.
We then spent the remainder of the day exploring--post sex nap--and I showed him the little things I learned about the city from other trips. We stood in the City Lights bookstore and looked at books about the Beat poets and drank in the atmosphere as writers can do. We wandered the dark streets of Chinatown and laughed at the umbrellas and kimonios, the geisha pictures and lucky cat statues. We had dinner at the same romantic resteraunt I took Chloe once by accident--we stared out over the city as we sipped cocktails and enjoyed great food. And even though the fortune cookie through me off--"accept the next proposition you get"... We recovered from fate's plans and made our way back out into the streets.
We drank in pretty bars and ate lunch next to dogs, we played pool in bars named after famous whales and shared champaigne while ignoring the Super Bowl for a bit... We had many more moments--holding hands and little smiles, lots of moments that should make me embarrassed.... I never knew how much a bed and breakfast can make you feel like you are having sex in your parents house.
And then it was time to come home--back to where we both live and sleep. There was something reassuring about that--to know we had a place to belong after we saw the city together. It wasn't so much about the Dollhouse but about us having a home with each other. It's the major plot of our lives right now.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Wednesday, February 09, 2011
Take Back The Night
I have had few regrets in my life--times when i should have stayed dressed but got naked, turned wine into water so that I would feel better, times when I should have called instead of emailing... I am more than capable of screwing up on my own.
But there are times when I haven't screwed up, when what I was accused of was unfair, or being held accountable to standards that I never knew. It doesn't happen much because I refuse to take it but, refuse to back down, refuse unearned blame....
Until Lizzie.
She was part of the group, one of my core friends, someone I gave a lot to who just one day blew my world apart. She decided she didn't want to be our friend anymore, spent her time accusing us of being awful people and walked all over us. It was painful and mean and unnecessary--if she wanted a different life she could go and have it--she didn't need to set us all on fire.
And as the last stand for our friendship--I threw her a last minute birthday party out on the town at a crazy fetish club with a large group of our friends. It was something she always wanted to do, something that she had talked about for years and I put the plan in motion to surprise her with wigs, make up and outfit options before we took her on the town.
It ended up being a disaster.
The night itself was fun--everyone got into the evening and there was drinking and dancing and dirty little moments abounded. We all enjoyed the shows and the spanking table and the sexiness of the evening and the car ride home was one of the best we ever had. Everyone was happy and gleeful and memorable. Even Lizzie
It was the days after--when I was accused of throwing a party to manipulate her, that everything we did was meant to be selfish and unfair to her, and it ended with a dramatic phone call where I just finally closed the chapter. Done.
But it made the night become one of infamy. All my memories of the fun became about how much Lizzie turned it against us, how resentful i was that she took something that had been great and shit all over it. It made me hate that day.
Until now.
Edie found out that the club night was closing and decided it was time for us to go ahead and give it a fond send off. She put the ball in motion but Lola and Kelly made it a reailty--that we did need to go and have one last blast and in the process reclaim the situation. So we all put on our best corsets and wings, hats and heels, glitter and lipstick for the last night of the big show.
Was it different? Of course it was--different people have come into our lives since then and were apart of it like Bailey and Johnno... We have all become slightly different and hopefully better people since then and were definitely able to spend more money and make it more of a show.
But more importantly--it reminded me of how good the first night there was. It is hard when someone walks out of your life, someone who attacks you and blames you, someone who makes you question your intents and qualities. But now I see both nights clearly and know it wasn't me that destroyed everything. I did play a part--I'm not perfect--but I was did try to fix things and try to be a better friend.
That is all you can do somethings.
And the irony is that it took a night of go go dancers, s&m theme theater, man-liner and a bunch of drinks and dances to remember that. That as long as I can say I tried then I don't have to stew in the past; I did do all that I could. I did try to take back the friendship but couldn't.
And now I have taken back that night.
I have had few regrets in my life--times when i should have stayed dressed but got naked, turned wine into water so that I would feel better, times when I should have called instead of emailing... I am more than capable of screwing up on my own.
But there are times when I haven't screwed up, when what I was accused of was unfair, or being held accountable to standards that I never knew. It doesn't happen much because I refuse to take it but, refuse to back down, refuse unearned blame....
Until Lizzie.
She was part of the group, one of my core friends, someone I gave a lot to who just one day blew my world apart. She decided she didn't want to be our friend anymore, spent her time accusing us of being awful people and walked all over us. It was painful and mean and unnecessary--if she wanted a different life she could go and have it--she didn't need to set us all on fire.
And as the last stand for our friendship--I threw her a last minute birthday party out on the town at a crazy fetish club with a large group of our friends. It was something she always wanted to do, something that she had talked about for years and I put the plan in motion to surprise her with wigs, make up and outfit options before we took her on the town.
It ended up being a disaster.
The night itself was fun--everyone got into the evening and there was drinking and dancing and dirty little moments abounded. We all enjoyed the shows and the spanking table and the sexiness of the evening and the car ride home was one of the best we ever had. Everyone was happy and gleeful and memorable. Even Lizzie
It was the days after--when I was accused of throwing a party to manipulate her, that everything we did was meant to be selfish and unfair to her, and it ended with a dramatic phone call where I just finally closed the chapter. Done.
But it made the night become one of infamy. All my memories of the fun became about how much Lizzie turned it against us, how resentful i was that she took something that had been great and shit all over it. It made me hate that day.
Until now.
Edie found out that the club night was closing and decided it was time for us to go ahead and give it a fond send off. She put the ball in motion but Lola and Kelly made it a reailty--that we did need to go and have one last blast and in the process reclaim the situation. So we all put on our best corsets and wings, hats and heels, glitter and lipstick for the last night of the big show.
Was it different? Of course it was--different people have come into our lives since then and were apart of it like Bailey and Johnno... We have all become slightly different and hopefully better people since then and were definitely able to spend more money and make it more of a show.
But more importantly--it reminded me of how good the first night there was. It is hard when someone walks out of your life, someone who attacks you and blames you, someone who makes you question your intents and qualities. But now I see both nights clearly and know it wasn't me that destroyed everything. I did play a part--I'm not perfect--but I was did try to fix things and try to be a better friend.
That is all you can do somethings.
And the irony is that it took a night of go go dancers, s&m theme theater, man-liner and a bunch of drinks and dances to remember that. That as long as I can say I tried then I don't have to stew in the past; I did do all that I could. I did try to take back the friendship but couldn't.
And now I have taken back that night.
The Proof Is In The Picture
I have been a little worried lately about my body issues... I have been trying to regain my workout schedule, try different food plans and just be more aware. It didn't help that I joined an eating group on-line being run by some friends of mine.
What was coming out of it was a sense of failure or judgement--it depending on the day or who was posting. Sometimes it would be as simple as the calories being burned by some people and sometimes it would be the realization that the person complaining on line had 13% body fat.
It made me feel worse.
But then we all went for a club night--wearing crazy costumes, eye make up and looking like a cross between Moulin Rogue or Rocky Horror. I decided to go sleeveless with a vest enough though I wasn't sure about the arms even with the push ups and the pullups... But I decided to do it anyways because I am slowly learning to just make peace with what I can work on. Slowly.
And I was rewarded with this.
I love this picture--I look good and it makes me want to keep working on it. Just some validate things
I have been a little worried lately about my body issues... I have been trying to regain my workout schedule, try different food plans and just be more aware. It didn't help that I joined an eating group on-line being run by some friends of mine.
What was coming out of it was a sense of failure or judgement--it depending on the day or who was posting. Sometimes it would be as simple as the calories being burned by some people and sometimes it would be the realization that the person complaining on line had 13% body fat.
It made me feel worse.
But then we all went for a club night--wearing crazy costumes, eye make up and looking like a cross between Moulin Rogue or Rocky Horror. I decided to go sleeveless with a vest enough though I wasn't sure about the arms even with the push ups and the pullups... But I decided to do it anyways because I am slowly learning to just make peace with what I can work on. Slowly.
And I was rewarded with this.
I love this picture--I look good and it makes me want to keep working on it. Just some validate things
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