bet you weren't expecting this

a new blog like half an hour after the last one. ooh, i'm so tricky and unpredictable!

this is a little rant.
and it is about knees.

yes, knees. specifically fat knees. now you may ask what a fat knee is. it's where the top of the leg is bigger than the bottom, where the knee doesn't stick out. if your knee is knobbly and sticks out when your leg is straight, then rest assured you don't have fat knees.

so now i'm spending all my time looking at people's knees. people in the street, people on tv, people in magazines. trying to see if they have fat knees or not.

trying to find one who does.


one who looks like me.

wagon wheels.

I fell off the wagon. And stayed in the rut by the side of the road for quite some time. But a couple of days ago I said
screw this. come monday i'm climbing back on.
I set the day a Monday so it would be easier to stick to, and harder to put off. But guess what? Monday rolled around and I did even worse than I'd been doing beforehand. And summer's getting closer with every day, and then shorts and skirts are gonna be here.

I've got to keep this in mind. What am I gonna wear if I don't make it? Hopefully that'll be enough to start me going again.



On a lighter note, I now officially have more posts on this blog than on my other one.
Let's break out the champagne.

to me

summer

= music
clothes
swimming
early sunday mornings
reinvention
friends
shopping
icy poles

= everything i love.

holidays

= one of my favourite things.
when you go away for them. and especially airports, or if we're roadtripping, small country towns. because you can be anyone you want, and no one knows any better. they don't know how popular or clever or rich or alternative you really are - so you can try anything on. and if you don't like it, then when you go home you can take it off again.

= i do believe that i'm going to spend the rest of my life on holidays.

unisa open day

= i have seen the light.



and now for something totally unrelated...


religion

everyone knows i'm not particularly religious person. i mean, i'm basically christian. which means i celebrate christmas and easter, and that's about it. if i were in a muslim country, i'd probably adopt the same attitude to islam. so yeah, all in all i'm not particularly religious.

but

when stuff gets horrible, something kind of odd happens. like, there was a point in my life which absolutely sucked. it was honestly the worst thing that has ever happened to me. i cannot describe the suckiness of this period of my life. well, maybe i could if you asked, but i don't want to. i tried writing it down once, and ended up in tears just thinking about it (but if you want to know, i'll tell you. you deserve that much).

anyway, while it sucked for me, i think it sucked for my mum a whole lot more, and it wasn't even her it was happening to. one time, she sat me down and asked how i was doing, cause i wasn't showing anything. she said i was being so strong. she said if something like that happened to her, she'd probably break down completely. admittedly, i was pretty close to breaking point myself.

and then she said something totally uncharacteristic.
"he only gives out what you can handle. that's why this is happening to you, and not someone else."
and you have no idea how much that helped. like, it was possibly the single most meaningful thing anyone has ever said to me.


i'm still not religious. but i still believe that statement is true, and it still gets me through things.

because it's only the stuff i can handle.

for a mind maker-upper to make up her mind

um yeah.


recently me and someone else have been talking.

about, well, stuff.

like, the first time we really talked about it, i was pretty damn apprehensive. but then i went away and thought about it for a while, and figured hey maybe it's worth it. i'm going to talk to him again and we can actually work it out.

and then we spoke about it again, more seriously. except as the conversation went on, i found more and more ways to convince myself of why it wasn't a good idea. and then later on, in the shower, at work, eating breakfast, i thought of even more reasons of why it's not such a good idea.

except now i'm not so sure. how can something seem so good and right and proper one minute, and so bad and wrong and naughty the other? it's ridiculous.

why can't i just decide what i think?

five

i got a pretty message today.

actually, he only sent it cause kels said he should.

but it made me happy anyway. and i've read it like ten times.

although that's not so monumental either. i read most of his messages about ten times.

but i'm trying to make a point.

it was pretty, and it made me happy.

i feel summer coming on

Drama today was funny. Well, more like after-drama. You know what I mean.

Roald Dahl is
a) a good children's writer
b) a better adult's writer.

Something I am confused about:
Being touched. Like, a hug from a friend or a bumsqueeze or a poke. Am not sure how I feel about it at the moment.
Pros:
I am a tactile person, and thus I enjoy it.
Apparently it's healthy to touch people, and we should do more of it.
Clearly it makes other people happy, or they wouldn't do it.
Cons:
If someone doesn't like touching people, you make them feel awkward.
It's not always acceptable ie thirty centimetre rule.
I worry that whoever it is can feel the fat over my bones. Like, even if they don't care or even notice, it still bothers me that they can.

My blacktack is awesome. Like, well and truly awesome.
a) it's a cool colour
b) it's a perfect sphere
c) it was fun to make.

there is nothing wrong with going to a strip club

and thats all i have to say about that.

packin' it in

i was going to stop blogging. i realised all i did was whinge. and no one read anything worth reading here.

regular little emo, aren't i?

but then last night
as i was lying in bed
feeling downright sorry for myself
i decided i'd bring this all back to life. for two reasons

a) i need somewhere to whinge, even if its stupid whiney bitching that i shouldn't be posting
b) it's been so long since i've posted that no one will read it anymore, hence it won't matter what i post

so all in all, i win.

but yeah. stuff has been a little shitty lately. and there are some people i haven't been very nice to. i have a couple of resolutions though.

a) i will no longer tell everyone everything. i will keep some secrets, even if they are not neccessarily 'secret' things.
b) saying i'm fat won't make me thin, so i will stop it.
c) you're obsessive. stop it.
d) this isn't really a resolution. more of a realisation about myself. i have a terrible terrible fear of failure.

i had to go to a rave thing on friday. talking about what we want to do with our lives, and what our passions are. i realised i don't actually have a passion. it's not like i'm passionate about something stupid which i'm embarrassed to say. it's just that i don't have one. and that makes me sad.
i mean, i used to. there used to be something i really was passionate about, a couple of things. then i realised i was shit at them and was never going to make anything out of it. and then i stopped caring about them.

that makes me really sad.

today is a good day

i'm sore and have a little bit of a tummyache. but you know what? today has been awesome.
coz even white boys got to shout. baby got back.

anyway.
350 cereal and milk
+ 300 pasta and sauce
+ 130 cupcake

- 330 elliptical

= 450 for today so far. keeping in mind we're having hamburgers for dinner and mum just cooked a fresh batch of cakes. its hard.

EDIT::
+ 130 another cupcake
+ around 500 hamburger
= 980. so maybe today isn't so good after all.

i mean, i'm going to get used to it but right now, its really difficult. like, sometimes pain is worth it because you know how good it will be when it stops. but sometimes the pain is only worth it because of what you'll get from it, and that it won't (shouldn't) stop. i'm going to get used to feeling empty, and i'm going to enjoy it. because every hour i spend feeling empty, is an hour closer to my goal.

besides, what's better? ten minutes of yum now, or the twentyfour seven delight of being who i want to be?


EDIT::
you know what? i want to talk about it. i want to sit down with someone and tell them what i'm doing, why i'm doing it, what i want, and why i can't have it. but i don't want them to tell me i have problems. i want them to help. to be supportive. to keep me going when i'm feeling weak.

so. talk to me. don't attack me. don't make me feel like i'm an idiot.

please.