Follow-Ups

Just wanted to follow up on a couple of things I posted about yesterday:

1) The restaurant expedition was a success, I think.  The place is really cool, it's like a Cold Stone Creamery for cereal and peanut butter (in case not all readers have those in their area, Cold Stone is an ice cream place where you customize your flavor and they make a big show of mixing the ice cream in front of you).  There were like 20 different cereals and 8 different base pb flavors, and tons of stuff to mix in with both of them.  Sounds great, but it was slightly overwhelming, tons of options.  BUT I think I did well, I tried to order what I thought really sounded good, and not let myself question what I "should" get.  To be honest it wasn't hard to calculate what I was eating, because everything they use is name brand stuff that I know the info for.  I'm a big measuring freak at home, so at least this took that option away from me.  I couldn't ask them to weigh out my portion before they rang it up, obviously.  So anyway, I told myself that I'd splurge and try the place once, but now  I might make a weekly trip over there, it's kind of a fun place and everything tasted really great, and now that I know what to expect from the options it will be less stressful to plan on going there.  

2) I hope that it didn't seem like I was completely unsympathetic and cold-hearted when J. temporarily succumbed to gravity the other day.  No worries, he was fine.  His pride will probably be bleeding for a week, but there was no structural damage.   If he had actually been hurt it would not have been a funny story.  One thing we share is a sarcastic sense of humor, remember his smartass remarks when I was semi-incapacitated with the tropical ooglies after I got back from my trip this summer?   Classic J., it's a good thing both of us can take it as well as we dish it out. ;)

Stepping Forward with Less Information

Challenge for the day:

I will eat lunch at a restaurant for which I have NO nutrition facts.  I can't tell you the last time I did this, certainly not in living memory.  Usually when I go out to eat I look up all the menu and nutrition info way ahead of time and already know what I'm going to order, and how much it will 'cost' calorically, before I even walk into the place.  And, usually, I "adjust" my food intake for the entire day to account for whatever I order.  They recently opened a really neat looking place across from campus, though, it's a "Coffee, Cereal, and Peanut Butter Bistro."  Those happen to be my three favorite food groups, no joke.  I must check this place out.  And I happen to have a break between classes and a meeting today that is not long enough for me to come home to eat, but is long enough to grab something close to campus, so if I'm going to try it sometime it seems like today is a good opportunity.  The bistro is small and independently owned, so NO website, NO nutrition facts, I'm just left to (gasp) order what I think looks good...

So, today, scary scary spontaneity.  Or that's the plan at least.  

A Hot Conversation

[I started this last night but dozed off, so all "today" references mean Monday]

It was COLD today.  Definitely the first real day of BRRR weather.  I have mentioned before that one big benefit to recovery is slightly less risk of spontaneously crystallizing and shattering from being cold ALL THE TIME.  I still hate cold, but I have noticed that my system is more robust and I'm not as susceptible to it as I have been in the past.

Apparently, I'm not the only one that has noticed the change.  J. and I were walking across campus today and I griped about the cold wind, and he mentioned that he was surprised I just had a sweatshirt instead of "The Blue Bubble" (his mocking term for my winter coat, this ultra-thick blue down jacket that is artic-rated; it makes me look like the a cross between a Smurf and the Michelin Man.  I could get hit by a bus in that thing and I'd just bounce.  It's super thick and bulky, but honsetly, bending your elbows is highly over-rated).  That led to a conversation that I had to share, I'd give anything to have the scene on video.  I could submit it for the next David Attenborough special, the Flirtation Rituals of Scientists in Their Natural Habitat.  Sans video, though, I guess I'll just post it here.  Poor J. 

C: BRRR.  This weather is uncalled for.

J: We're gonna need to find a new way to insulate you, winter really hasn't even started yet.

C: I think I'm going to handle the weather better this year.  

J: You're without the Bubble today, trying to build up tolerance?

C: Yeah well, hypothermia is so last year, the new trend is nonshivering thermogenesis, haven't you heard?

J: Ah, I think I rememberParis Hilton mention that in an interview recently.

C: Yup, metabolisms are sexy.

J: [Slips off curb and does an uber-ungraceful arm-waving thing to keep from sprawling in the street.  And fails.]

C: Obviously your buddy Paris didn't tell you that gravity is "in" every season, J, and apparently it doesn't like you.

J:  Isaac Newton has had it in for me ever since I got a C on that physics mid-term...

Reward Reminders

I feel like I'm hanging from an elastic string, sort of bobbing up and down aimlessly and never really getting anywhere. (My body feels great! My body feels gross.  Recovery rocks!  Recovery sucks.  This is worth it!  This is pointless.  I missed X food!  I'm a pig for eating X.  Etc, etc etc).

I am slowly realizing that I'm just going to have to come to terms with the bad days, or else that little piece of elastic that is suspending my sanity is eventually going to snap.  Some days will be good, some not, but I can't derail every time things get tough.  I have had terrible body image days this week; I am feeling a little less disgusting today (good), but only because the scale has been lower each morning for the past few days (bad).  Also, I think that to some degree I am just exhausted to the point of ambivalence, also not really good.  Is this semester over yet?

I am definitely in need of affirmations right now, reminders of why I'm putting myself through the recovery wringer in the first place.  So, just a few reasons that recovery is worth it:

1)MEMORY.  Last semester I would get immensely frustrated and more than a little scared when I studied, and studied, and studied, and still retained so little.  It's extremely disturbing to know that you've just looked at a piece of information, but find yourself unable to recall it.  I had to work twice as hard to remember half as much.  My grades didn't fall, but that was only due to extreme effort.  In contrast, now that my brain is out of starvation mode I am noticing a huge difference.  I have a semi-photographic memory, and now I'm back to where I only need to look at something once or twice for it to "stick." I will never take that for granted again.   Don't get me wrong, I'm not claiming any kind of superintelligence, I think it has little to do with IQ and everything to do with level of engagement.  Starving brains have more pressing things to worry about than ecological theories and the taxonomy of monotremes, and my favorite recovery reward so far is new mindspace for ideas and information.

2)HAIR.  When I was younger I would constantly complain about how thick my hair was: curly and unruly and generally a pain in the ass.  Sometimes it seemed so thick that I could have concealed a weapon in it.  Over the past few years it has thinned down quite a bit,  sort of surreal to watch.  I think it is starting to get back some shine now, though, and I'm not getting handfuls out of it every time I shower.  

3) ENERGY.  I have mentioned this before, but it's one that I really just can't get over.  Life is so much better when you are not in constant energy debt, it's amazing.  I actually played a spontaneous game of tag with G. in the backyard today, a few months ago I would have had no physical or mental fuel for something like that.  Everything was calibrated to get me through the daily routine with absolutely nothing left over.   Having some ooomph to actually live is definitely a reward.

Ok, I have three papers to finish this weekend, plus two exams coming up next week, so I'm going to stop procrastinating and get back to work.   Take care and have a great rest of the weekend, everyone.

A Promise for Next Year

I feel so disgusting.  I had a stretch of about a week or maybe even more where I felt good, strong, fit, almost comfortable, but yesterday and especially today have been terrible as far as body image.  Look at that gut!  If that face got any rounder I'd be a Cabbage Patch kid.  And H. wants me to gain how much more weight?  She has been hanging out with crazy people for way too long.

Do I realize these thoughts are irrational and unproductive?  Yes.  Does that stop me from obsessing over them? No.  Does it make any sense? No-but since when has that mattered?

I guess I'm just frustrated because I know, with every fiber of my being, that losing weight will not make me happy.  Being controlled by the ED is miserable, terrible, and incredibly wasteful of time, energy, and potential.  I'm supposed to be moving past that.  I could say I'm on the edge between bad and good, dark and light, ED and 'real life,' but I don't really think there's an "edge," it all seems very blurry right now.  I'm still obsessing just as much as I did X pounds ago, and I don't like it.  

I'm supposed to work on identifying triggers, according to H.  I haven't had a therapy session in two weeks, because H. was a at a conference and then out of town for a family emergency.  I don't really think lack of therapizing is the cause, though.  One possibility: I have never thought that I am very "triggerable" when it comes to seeing pictures, but I accidentally came across a bunch of "thinspiration" pictures the other day (I do NOT visit pro sites, I never have, the pics were posted on a site that is supposed to be recovery-positive), and those images kept coming back to my mind today when I was sitting in class loathing the feeling of my body.  Blah.  My knees and ankles are absolutely shot right now, but I still did did extra workouts just because I needed to vent and had this self-hatred thing going, I just wanted to sweat, pound, burn everything out of myself. 

Second possibility: weather has been gloomy for a couple of days, and that always makes my mood and general outlook on life plummet.  Woot for S.A.D.  

Third: maybe I am just really, really bad at this whole recovery thing.

So, because I routinely break private promises to myself and a public resoluton will help to keep me at least somewhat more accountable:

Dear Cammy,

Next year you are not allowed to spend your birthday behaving, thinking, or in any way resembling the way you spent today.  

That is all.

C.

Because Hell Can Indeed Freeze Over...

 If anyone doubts that hell can freeze over, let them try living with an eating disorder.  For a long time, possibly the biggest factor impacting my quality of life was COLD.  Forget the hunger pains, heart palpitations, stress fractures, etc . . . but holy shit I hate being cold.  When I go to the doctor, it's common for the nurse to take my temperature two or three times because she's sure it can't really be as low as the thermometer says.  Cold is terrible.  It seeps into your system, wraps around your bones, grips your whole being in this cruel torturous grasp that squeezes you at the same time it permeates throughout your body like some kind of frigid poison.   I can remember times that I have literally broken down and cried because I was so debilitatingly cold. 

It is no accident that I picked a university in an area were it's common for temps to be in the 70's over Christmas and people literally take pictures when their car windshields frost (about twice a year).  BUT it does get chilly sometimes (yes, "chilly" is relative, people here bundle up like they're heading for the Iditarod when it dips below 60), and the past few mornings it has really started to feel like fall.   ACK, Jack Frost is coming to commence with the annual ass-kicking that is winter.  

Thus, a new reason to appreciate the pounds I have put on and the general improvements in my physiology over the past few months.  I have an exam on mammalian metabolism tomorrow, so even studying has given me time to contemplate the fact that allowing my body to function like a real human seems to be pretty rewarding.  Am I ready to swim the English Channel?  No way.  I still get cold faster than most of my friends, and I still make sure I always have a sweatshirt or sweater with me no matter how hot it is outside (public buildings are ridiculously over air-conditioned), but it's slowly getting better and isn't anywhere near as dominating as it used to be.  Part of it is poundage and part of it is just a revved up metabolism, a reminder that taking care of my body affects both form and function.

So, today's things to be thankful for:

~Walking G. on a crisp fall morning and feeling invigorated by the chill, not completely dominated by it.

~No longer having icy fingers and a purplish tint to my nailbeds, even indoors.

~Hair that is slowly regaining shine and sheen, so it isn't a completely dry frizzball now that the summer humidity has retreated.

~Studying in the arboretum with J. in the evening, letting the air cool around us as the sun sets but being more aware of each other than the falling temperature.

~Bending down to tie my shoe, resting my cheek on my leg and feeling the heat coming off of my skin.  

My heat, that my body makes out of fuel that I give to it.  Power, anyone?

No, it's not another term for the Atkins diet

There is a recent trend in pop-culture adaptations of various "-rexics:" pregorexic, manorexic, etc etc. Today I came across a new one: carborexic. No, this is does not refer to Atkins devotees or other people who restrict their carbohydrates. This latest term actually has nothing to do with eating disorders, it refers to people who are obsessed with reducing their carbon footprint. I still felt like sharing, because I find the cutesy plays on "-rexic" to be a little annoying, they seem to take a term for a legitimate disease and twist and trivialize it at will.

Maybe that is just me being overly sensitive. The various permutations do demonstrate that eating disorders are much more multi-facted than some people realize. Would we really need the term "manorexia" if the public was aware that some experts estimate that 1 in 8 people suffering from eating disorders in the U.S. are male? Would we need the term "pregorexia" if people realized that often even "recovered" ED patients have issues that settle down into sub-clinical latency until a major upheaval, such as finding out that a body you may have never really come to terms with in itself is suddenly inhabited by another growing human being?

This was supposed to be a one or two sentence blurb and has turned into a ramble, CliffNotes version is: apparently carborexia is on the rise, consider yourself (and your SUV) warned.

J.?

By the way, J. has been showing a definite increase in attentionage to me lately.  As in going out of his way to make sure we happen to meet up at least twice a day, making excuses for reasons we need to get together (really, J., you could have totally e-mailed me those files, it was NOT necessary to rendezvous so you could loan me your USB drive), pushing for us to go out for whatever meal happens to be closest at any point when we see each other.  What's up with this? Doesn't he have something more worthwhile to do with his time, like studying, washing the car, organizing his socks? Why do guys have to try to make things so complicated?   He would be extremely desirable IF we weren't such good friends already.  Oh yeah, and IF I didn't have that teensy little huge aversion to addressing feelings, emotions, etc.   Maybe I am reading too much into the whole situation.  I have NO TIME for drama right now, none whatsoever. Blah. 

Pondering the Positives

I have a major exam tomorrow and cannot fit one more piece of knowledge, not ONE MORE. If I cram in single extra item, some other vital piece of information will slip out, slide away, evaporate into cognitive dust. This factoid could be something useless, like my ex-boyfriend's birthday, or it could be some vital tidbit of information up on which my entire career as a scientist hangs in the balance. Can't risk it, so now I am done with learnin' for tonight and am cooling my circuits in the blogosphere.

So, my perceptions are pretty much ping-ponging around right now, and in honor of "No Fat Talk Week," I figured it would be good to document a positive day to try to balance all of my recent wailing and flailing. I have been letting my weight inch up a little again after sliding backwards for a couple of weeks, and I am trying really hard to make myself ok with it.

So, for the past day or so I have felt good. What is "good," anyway? It's funny how that is such a relative and ambiguous turn. In the very recent past, a "good" day might have been one with no episodes of passing out. "Good" could mean finding an extra pocket of time to exercise, or getting really lucky and "only" having minimal heart palpitations for an entire day. Glamorous, huh?

Fortunately, as I am working on shedding the ED, my "goods" seem to be getting "gooder." Today: I felt strong, physically and mentally. Not strong in terms of mustering the energy to endure the day, but strong as in truly motivated and energetic. Strong as in realizing that treating my body right really does make the day 2934% more enjoyable. Strong as in slowly coming to terms with the fact that living in a more realistic physique might not be so bad after all. This week I have been able to see myself a bit more objectively, and to force myself to view food in terms of what it can do for me, instead of what it may do to me.

Positive observations:

~As I have noted before, I am starting to acquire a butt. However, it's actually a pretty cute one, I think.

~Starving makes your mind constantly obsess over food. But there are so many more interesting things to think about than counting calories and stressing over the next meal. I am really, really frustrated with myself over the amount of time I spend each day thinking of nothing but food and calories and exercise. Seriously, if I channeled that much brainpower into something else, I probably would have discovered the Higgs Boson or mapped the Bigfoot genome or invented toilet paper that can be used without shredding the first three sheets of a new roll into ribbons. Since my body is slightly less in survival mode these days, my brain is able to take longer and longer breaks from obsessing over the next meal, and it's such a freeing feeling. Maybe my body is growing, but my mind is able to grow infinitely more, and that's a pretty good deal.

~A little extra padding makes sitting in plastic chairs a much less agonizing experience.

~It feels good to hear a favorite song come on the radio and have the energy to jam out to it, dancing with the dog and making a general fool out of myself, albeit within the privacy of my own walls. I can distinctly remember times in high school when I was so utterly sapped that I would sit there and weigh the pros and cons of reaching up to push a strand of hair behind my ear if it fell into my face. Then it was too. much. effort. No more.

I think I may start randomly posting observations like these as they come to me, I want to make sure this blog has a positive spin while still giving a real picture of what a bewildering process this whole recovery thing can be. Some days I feel as if I look like someone stuffed a basket ball into my stomach, and some days I can see my body and realize how much better it looks and feels to have tone than bone, to feel fit instead of feeling like a broken toy held together with cheap scotch tape. I still have a lot of weight left to gain, not sure how I am going to handle that, but I guess I will get there the same way I got here, one day at a time, keeping enough perspective to rebound from the slides.

So in the meantime, happy No Fat Talk Week, please do me a favor and try to make a list for yourself of things your body does for you, instead of things that you can do to it. As always, take care and treat yourselves kindly.

Poisoned Kaleidoscope

I feel like I am living in a poisoned kaleidoscope.  I am having a Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Body Image Day (gold star for anyone to identify that literary allusion).  How can I feel so huge when over the past two weeks I have actually lost about 1/3 of the weight I’ve gained since I started seen H. ten months ago?   Why is my mind such a perpetual see-saw?  Everything is scrambled, and it just plain wears me out.

  I hate the way my flesh moves, I hate the way fabric clings to my skin.  I can’t stand the feeling of being in this form.  Sometimes, though, when I catch glimpses of myself in the mirror I can see the bones, the hollows, the veins, etc, and I know it’s not attractive, healthy, or desireable.  Then the next time I pass a mirror all I can see is a ridiculously round belly and chipmunk cheeks.  What is reality, anyway, and how can I find it?

  I can tell myself that normal grown women do not wear the same jeans they wore in the 7^th grade, but when I am too stressed/busy to eat I still get twisted comfort from hypoglycemia highs. 

My stomach twists in dread at all the horror stories about stress fractures and joint degeneration, but I don’t even consider cutting back on workouts to be an option.

 I just finished the book Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters by Courtenay Martin, which is possibly the best, most inspiring, most insightful and thought-provoking ED book I’ve ever read (please, please do yourself a favor and read it.  Read it, highlight in it, write down passages on post-its and stick them to your mirror, I can’t overemphasize how great it is).  After absorbing Martin’s 350 pages of practical perspective and empowering insights, I want more than anything to step out of this box forever.  Then again I read every word of it while pedaling away on the exercise bike.

 I like having coffee with my breakfast instead of having coffee for breakfast, but I am still disturbed and frustrated with the fact that it kick starts my system and makes me even more ravenous later in the morning than I would have been if I’d just abstained.

I am hungry for knowledge, almost overwhelmingly so, resulting in this semester's crazed schedule.  I want to know.  I want to discuss, I want to hear and share and make ideas, I want to build connections and create patterns.  I crave the world and all of its intricate, fascinating parts.  I am almost depressed by the sheer volume of things that are out there to learn in the limited amount of time that we exist in this world.  I am in awe of the world, but I keep myself walled off from it, a spectator rather than a participant.  I feel like my appetite for information and experience can never be satisfied, and I vent the frustration from that disappointment through tyrannical control of more concrete appetites.

I am scrambled, spinning, struggling for a grip.  Why is it so hard to just be human?

 

 

Exposure Assignment of a Different Sort

I had a good session with H. today, and one thing we talked about was the "picture panic" from last weekend.  I could tell she looked really sad when I told her about how much fun my trip was and then mentioned I had been too embarassed to send the pictures to my family or post them online (except for one fairly nonthreatening headshot) because of how I think I look in them.  Not exactly traditional "exposure therapy," but sort of similar in that it involves doing something that I know I'm not going to be comfortable with but that should help me gain some perspective if I think about it hard enough.

H. doesn't give me homework very often, but this week my challenge is to go through those pictures and find ones where I am doing really cool things, and post those in the places I usually put my field photos (when I am not repulsed by how I look in them, at least).  The idea is for me to focus on what I was doing, the experience, instead of how chubby my cheeks look.  Is an adventure any less cool or thrilling of you weigh X or X+Y?  No, or at least it shouldn't be.

Anyway, just wanted to share that little exercise, in case anyone else might find it, or at least the idea behind it, to be somewhat useful.

Picture Panic

Panel discussion was fairly good but not that remarkable, I may have comments on it later but wanted to address some stuff from the weekend first:

The camping field trip was a mixed success.  I had a pretty good time overall.  We saw some amazing animals and gorgeous landscape, and I had a great time with the people (more on that later).  

But when I uploaded my pictures I was really appalled at how grotesquely huge I look.  Damn, how can I walk around like this, with my disgustingness on display to the world?  Objectively I know I'm still underweight, I haven't gained any weight in weeks, but I am heavier than I have averaged since I've been in college, and I hate the changes.  It doesn't help that I went on the same camping trip last year, to the exact same site (I wasn't in the class last year, but I was allowed to tag along), so I have two sets of pictures to compare, with the Cammy of 2008 significantly heavier than the Cammy of 2007.  I'm embarrassed to send the new ones to my family or post them on Facebook, even though I'm doing some awesome things in the photos and really want to share those adventures.  

It's not just my overall size in the pictures that bothers me, it's mostly my face.  I HATE it when my face fills out, I just don't like the shape of it.  One possible reason for this (H.'s favorite theory, at least) is that it's because I look so incredibly similar to my biological dad.  If you compare pictures of us at the same age (yes, he was just a little older than me when I was born, SCARY) we could seriously pass for fraternal twins.  thus, filled out face = reminder of abusive alcoholic father.  That's a hypothesis, but I don't really buy it, because I honestly can go weeks without even thinking about him, I just don't consider him all that relevant or significant.  At least not compared to the crippling relevance that fat feels like.

If I feel like this right now, how am I ever going to handle getting to what H. has decided my minimum first goal should be?  Why is this so hard?  And why, when I looked at pictures of myself in another -ology lab just three days before the fieldtrip, was I struck by how thin I looked?  I didn't gain any weight between the two sets of pictures, but I swear I look way huger in the weekend photos.  What gives, my friends?

One other downside to the weekend is that my metabolism is a Big Growling Beast right now, so I spent a lot of time hungry.  When you're in the field food is mostly granola bars, etc, and those just don't hold me very well right now.  As a result I spent way too much time thinking about how much I wanted food, it was pretty annoying, I would have much rather been focused on other things.

One upside to balance the downers: I opened up to a friend about the eating issues and the fact that I'm seeing a therapist.  She used to be a gymnast, and she has never had food issues but she has definitely witnessed the downward spiral in others.  She was really understanding and supportive, it wasn't as awkward as I imagined something like that would be.

I have two exams tomorrow, and not only did I spend time going to an event on campus tonight but now I am sitting on Blogger.  Bad, bad Cammy, I need to go hit the books.

Panel Discussion

There is a student-run eating disorder awareness organization group at my university that first started my sophomore year and has since developed many great programs on campus.  I was involved for a semester, but I was already involved in so many things that I didn't really have time for it, plus I was vacillating between various degrees of apathy about my own ED.   Also, the projects do tend to be a little Greek-focused (although by no means exclusive), and I'm not in a sorority, so sometimes I felt like I was minimally useful anyway.

Even though I'm not an active member, I've stayed on the mailling list and do try to attend when they have speakers and events, they did a great job with NEDAW last February, we had a top name speaker and it went really well considering it was the organization's first attempt developing the awareness week activities. 

So, tonight they are hosting a panel discussion with therapists and former patients from our state's major ED inpatient facility.  It is actually the place H. has been pushing me to go.   I am way to busy to go do anything (we had major rain last night and my ceiling is leaking, dealing with that on top of the 89374 other things I have to do right now, plus I have TWO huge exams tomorrow), but I am going to go to the discussion.  What can it hurt?  I am still 100% sure that I'm not going to enter an IP program, but I am intrigued and want to hear what they have to say.  

I always feel a little awkward going to ED events, looking around you can almost take it for granted that everyone there has dealt with an ED in some way, even if it is just through a loved one's experiences.  It's thought-provoking and disturbing to see, in living, breathing reality, the number and diversity of people that have this shit going on under the surface.  Could you guess they had a problem if you hadn't seen them in this context?  Sometimes yes, often no, and there is always that niggly voice wondering what they think when they see you there, trying to be proud of taking up the space you occupy, literally and figuratively--in both the room and the world,--while still wondering whether you deserve it. 

So, if it is especially interesting I'll have an update on it later.

A Night of Normal

I have several thoughts and things to share about the weekend, but, as usual, I am pressed for time and just have time for a brief note about today:

I got a call around 11 AM today from one of my professors, inviting me to a professional dinner tonight with Big Famous Mega Prominent Guy that came to speak at my university today.

ACK.  I don't do last minute very well.  I have 290,832 things on my current to-do list, and did not have time for a 3 hour dinner.  Also, I had already planned all my meals for the day, and it would shoot all that to the wind.   This may sound silly, but I spend hours agonizing over each day's menu, and suddenly changing that takes some serious mental gymnastics for me.  I have gotten much better about eating in public since I started college, eating out anxiety is mostly due to the fact that I just hate not having complete control over what goes in the food.

BUT this was literally a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to schmooze with an icon in my field of study.  I knew I would regret it if I didn't go, and I'd look back and hate myself for choosing the ED over this chance...

So I went.  And I ate like a real live normal person.  I busted my ass in hyper-mode this morning so I could afford the time to go this evening (I actually skipped 3 classes today, which I NEVER do...it's bad when you are too busy with schoolwork to actually go to school), and talked myself down from anxiety overload about not sticking to my planned food for the day.  And the sky did not fall.  

I actually ended up having a good time.  I got face time with Mr. Awesome and with some other important university people too, and really enjoyed myself.  I can be fairly charming when I allow myself, and I felt like the night was a success in several ways. 

So it appears that I can indeed at least pretend to be a normal adult once in a while, take that, ED.

Repeat Retreat

I am on my way out for weekend fieldtrip for another -ology class, similar to the one I went on last month.  These kind of trips always give me a chance to get a better grip/perspective (at least temporarily, but it's better than nothing), and are usually a huge relief from daily life.  I'll have a hellacious amount to catch up on when Monday comes, but a little nature therapy goes a long way.  So, wonderful wilderness, here I come, and I hope everyone has a great weekend.

One random note related to Tiptoe's recent post, the barista this morning most DEFINITELY didn't give me decaf, I am super hyper and shakey, I am going to call and complain.  Some people (myself included) are really sensitive to caffeine, and you can't screw with people's systems.  The whole reason I detoxed from the stuff is because it tends to give me heart palpitations.  I probably needed a boost, we'll be doing stuff in the field until around 2 in the morning, but I don't like this BZZZZZ feeling.

From Celebrities to Cetaceans

The media obsession with celebrity weight gain/loss has recently reached epic proportions, and now they've moved to on the marine world . . .