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Dorky Little Secret
She-Dork is back. Protect your fragile sensibilities.

So I saw some magazines the other day in Target and they were talking about how Brad and Angelina might be splitting up.  And, no, my first thought wasn't, "NOW SHE CAN BE MINE!"  No, my first thought was this:

Dear God, whose name I do not know, please please please let her get back together with Billy Bob Thornton.

I loved when she was with him.  Do you think she still has the vial of blood of his that she used to wear around her neck when they were together?  I mean, that's not something people would throw away, is it?  I know she got rid of the tattoo but still...  Anyway, I know I have spent a lot of time talking about Angelina on here but just in case you have forgotten, I think Angelina and Billy Bob were the best crazy couple ever.  She just hasn't been nearly as interesting since Brad tamed her and I don't know if I can ever forgive him for that.  Although he did make that Legends of the Fall movie so...  Oh, I can't stay mad at you, Brad!  But dump her and send her back to BB, okay?  HEY!  Billy Bob and then Brad... do you think she's working her way through the alphabet?  Note to self:  Ask someone named "Alfred" if they know her...

Oh, I have some good news/bad news.  The good news is that, somewhere underneath my flab, there are abdominal muscles.  The bad news is that I know this because right now they are as sore as a motherfucker.  I am not exercising tonight.  I don't know what I did last night during my workout but apparently my abs did not like it.  Tuesday nights are rough for me because I have so much tv to watch.  Seriously.  How much of a loser am I?  I have to watch Gilmore Girls at 8 and record American Idol.  Then at 9 I rewind AI and watch it and then it's pretty much bedtime.  I think pretty soon I am going to stop watching tv.  I went through this a long time ago--I lost all patience with television and could not sit still to watch anything much.  I have watched some movies lately, though.

So let's talk about that.  I saw Talladega Nights about a week ago.  Will Ferrell keeps popping up in my head, praying to "tiny baby Jesus in a manger" pretty much every five minutes.  I also really liked the scene in which Will says, "I'll never call you 'Daddy.'"  and then the next scene he says, "So, Professor Dickweed..." to his dad.  Awesome.

The other movie I saw recently was a second viewing of the third X-Men movie.  You know, I think I might have to start watching these movies on continuous loop.  I always feel so empowered after I see them.  I feel like I might have super powers, too.  Also, hello, Sir Ian McKellan (AKA My Pretend Father) as Magneto.  I love him so much!  I am sure I wasn't writing when I saw this in the theater, but there is a time when something pretty sad happens to Magneto in the movie and I cried.  I cried for the evil Magneto because he is my pretend father and I love him and don't want him to hurt.  Have I mentioned lately that it's not easy being me?  Well, there you go.

Another major happiness factor in the X-Men movies is Famke Janssen.  She plays Jean Grey and, in the third movie, transforms into Phoenix.  Now, Phoenix has such humongous, uncontrollable power that she can pretty much rip people apart right down to their bones.  However, I don't think this is a very original power.  As I was telling my coworkers the other day, what woman isn't able to tear someone apart atom by atom?  I know I have that power.  Can a sister get an "Amen?"  But still, Famke has been a favorite actress of mine ever since she was in that 007 movie so long ago.  (I think her character's name was Onnatop or something mildly dirty like that.)  She is so pretty to me and I think she did a good job as Phoenix.  There wasn't enough fire, but my standards are pretty impossible on that one.  If every movie doesn't turn the fire volume up to "BALROG!" then I am sort of disappointed.  Oh well...

Okay so I have to go watch tv.  (Raise hand that makes the L onto forehead now.  KTHXBYE.)

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This is going to sound like I am an ungrateful bitch.  I'm not, truly.  It's just that I had to demote one pair of jeans to "Weekend-Only" and had to retire 2 pairs altogether this week so I am a woman on the edge.  It would be different if it weren't summer.  Apparently, plus-sized women are only allowed to wear Capri! pants in the summer.  Well, FUCK CAPRI PANTS.  They make me look like I was accidentally shopping in the Oompa-Loompa section of softlines, okay?  I was able to find one new pair of jeans this weekend but that still leaves me at a deficit of 2 pairs.

I have been slowly losing weight since around November, maybe.  I decided to lose weight then; I modified what I ate and when and how much and started seeing some results.  In February, when I started my odyssey of doctor visits, I found out that my blood pressure was pretty high.  I suspected this; I knew my theory that I was made of fire was probably not medically accurate.  But then I found out that a good way to control blood pressure was to lose weight and exercise.  No problem!  I was already doing the diet thing and I was ready to try some exercise.  Over the next few weeks I had some bloodwork done.  It seemed that with every visit to the doctor, something else was taken away from me.  First the salt and sodas went, along with the burgers and fries.  Breakfast was hit the hardest; no more bacon, sausage, or biscuits.  Then, I had to watch my carbohydrate intake.  And my sugar consumption.

So basically now I eat yogurt and skinless chicken breasts.  Or salmon.  Sometimes I'll have a leaf of lettuce, you know, to shake things up.  Or a nutrition bar.  I generally have a bagel at lunch, complete with light cream cheese.  I drink green tea or vitamin water or plain water.  Occasionally I'll have a diet Coke.  For the bubbles.

But there's no joy in Chowville for me anymore.  I used to delight in eating, I loved every part of the experience.  The tastes, smells and textures comforted me as I stuffed myself full to the gills.  I would sometimes (and by sometimes I mean every day) eat so much that I was incapacitated.  I could only sit on the sofa until bedtime, when I would heave my girth off the couch just long enough to brush my teeth and fall into bed.  Now, if I am eating something I shouldn't, I just feel horrible the whole time.  I know that the choices I am making are only going to hurt me in the long run, so I generally don't consume things I shouldn't anymore.  I always said I would eat horribly until health concerns forced me to stop.  Well, that train has arrived and I am an uncomfortable but resigned passenger.

Although my attitude isn't great, I am grimly determined to eat right and get down to a normal weight this time.  I have lost weight before only to gain it back (just like everyone else has, I'm sure).  Now I am looking at the changes in my diet as a permanent thing.  And I am okay with that, really.  I am sure I have eaten my share of unhealthy food, and probably had some of your share, too.  I haven't been this committed to a goal since I quit smoking seven years ago, although that was a little different:  I quit smoking for Jesse but I am losing weight for myself.

The thing is, eating healthy while living with someone who does not is sometimes a challenge.  I suspect that if I had tried to quit smoking while living with another smoker I would not have been successful.  I know this is hard on Jesse; I have been his eating buddy for a long time and suddenly I am becoming a different person.  A while back he told me that his stomach asked him, "Why won't Crazy Lady let us have good food anymore?"  I do think this is funny but also a little sad.  And while Jesse is quick to point out that he fully supports my efforts at healthy eating, I think it's harder for him to support me in this endeavor than it was when I quit smoking.  He still goes to the ice cream aisle in the grocery store, as well as the chip section.  It is hard for me to say no to the bad things that are in the house but I am finding that my determination is sometimes stronger than I ever knew.  Mainly, I want a cigarette.  I don't know if I want one just as an act of rebellion or not.  I suspect it's mainly to comfort myself a little since I can't do that with food anymore.  Cigarettes were my good friends for many years, and they don't have any calories!

But even though I talk about cigs lovingly, I am not going to start smoking again.  I can't.  I am smarter than to shoot myself in the foot like that.  The real challenge is that I also refuse to go back to my old eating habits.  I do not want to have to take medication for things I have the power to regulate.  So, I have started doing things that distract me while I slowly move away from food as my main form of entertainment.  I exercise as often as I can (which isn't much, given my harrowing American Idol viewing schedule), I practice drums a little, I listen to music constantly, I make myself get up as fast as I can after eating so that I'm not tempted to eat more than I should, and lately, I write.

It's this last thing that helps me know I will make it.  I haven't been able to write regularly for about three years and that has really been hard on me (as well as on other people who were counting on me to write).  I was blocked for one reason or another and unable to break through.  About a month ago, I got the urge to write again and it was like a switch that got turned off when I left Athens was suddenly flipped back on.  The words came and they have been back ever since.  I've been emailing and writing here and I even had a new idea for a story.  This is the first new story idea I have had in about 2 years.  So if all of this health-awareness has brought me back to writing, maybe it's worth the effort.  And even though it is hard, I am very excited to see how this adventure turns out.

Except, of course, if it includes my running out of pants.  Doom-pa-dee-do, indeed.

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Okay, so Wal-Mart has Squid Soap.



And now, so do I!

You are all invited to come over and wash your hands.

(For those of you who haven't heard of this.)

ETA:  This picture is from the website; my bathroom has never been that clean.  Or that golden.

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The Flaming Lips.

I have had the Yoshimi album for about four years now and had never listened to the whole thing.  I think I listend to the first song at one point and decided it was not something I liked.  Oh, how silly the me from four years ago was!!  "Do You Realize" is my favorite right now; that song gets my highest rating:  Motherfucking Brilliant.
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I meant to update last night so that my calendar for April would have a geometric design on it created by the days I had posted something.  I guess I could date this entry with yesterday's date but that would be cheating, wouldn't it?

I just heard Kelly Clarkson do her song on the American Idol special and it was beautiful.  She looked really good, too, with her long brown/black hair.  She has a new album coming out sometime soon, I think.  Jesse bought me the new Arctic Monkeys yesterday (because yesterday was the first day it was available) and it is good.  I like it almost as much as the first album already; I am sure I will like it even more as I listen to it again.  Their drummer is really good.  The video for "View from the Afternoon" (from the first album) is really awesome because it just features this drummer who is playing relentlessly.  I don't think it's the actual Arctic Monkeys' drummer, though, which is odd to me.  I still like the video, though.

You know, I had almost forgotten how much I hate Celine Dion.  Thanks, American Idol, for reminding me!

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Well, I was thinking about writing a post about my weight loss and my determination to really lose down to a normal size this time but then I had to stop by the grocery store on the way home and just happened to go by the ice cream aisle and Ben & Jerry's has re-released the Brownie Batter flavor.

They might as well crank up the crane; they are going to have to cut a wall off the house to get me out.  Or they are going to do a special on me on the Discovery Health channel.

Or maybe not.  I did only have about four spoonfuls of it before I put it back in the freezer tonight.  Maybe I can make this pint last me all summer.  Maybe I'll only eat it when I'm jogging?

Oh, Kryptonite, thy name is Brownie Batter.
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So I am sitting here in my pajamas.  I think I overdid the workout just a smidge tonight and I thought I was going to die for a second but then the endorphins kicked in and it was all good.  Then I was totally gross so I took a long warm shower and I guess what I am really trying to say here is that it's almost dirty how good I feel right now.  I am more relaxed than I have been in a while and as my doctor (and co-workers) could tell you, I never relax.

Naturally I am expecting the Ninjas to attack any minute.

I have been thinking about the movie Real Genius a lot lately.  I want to watch it again soon, not just because I like the way Val Kilmer says, "Lazlo Hollyfeld," but also because of the characer in there who never sleeps.  Jordan!  Yes, Jordan was that character's name!  (Thanks, IMDB!)  So I have been thinking about her a lot lately because while I am not nearly as adorable as she is, I have been about twice as nervous lately.  (And by lately I mean the past, oh, three years or so.)  And while I am feeling particularly boiled-noodley right now, I bet that sometime in the middle of the night I will wake up and have the urge to sand my dorm room floors like Jordan did.  (And no, that is not meant as some sort of euphamism.  Watch the movie!  She really sands her floors, you pervert!)

(Did I write on here about how I recently had a bunch of dreams with famous people in them?  The reason I ask is that I had this dream where Matthew McConaughey (thanks again, imdb, for that spelling) and I were riding bikes.  Again, that is not a euphamism, although I don't know what Freud would say about it.  But we were riding bikes and it was so much fun!  It was like I was thirteen again exept I wasn't afraid of going too fast for some reason and Matt and I were just flying down the road I grew up on and it was great.  I think there were more; the other two dreams I remember were with Angelina Jolie and Gene Simmons respectively.  And that's all I am going to say about those dreams because they were dirty.  I know, Gene Simmons, EW.  But whatever.  My psyche got to get it on with Gene, I guess.  I was really kind of powerless.  An innocent bystander.  And I am going to stop typing about it now because I am just making it dirtier than it even was.)

Another thing I always remember about the movie Real Genius is that line where they say something is "A Moral Imperative!"  My internal dialog often includes this phrase:  "I must repair these books!  It's A Moral Imperative!" or, "I need to go pee.  It's A Moral Imperative!"  and on and on.  Anyway, that was a great movie.  I don't guess it would make much sense to anyone now since colleges don't let genius students in when they are fifteen anymore.  Alas, how I miss the days when smart people were allowed to be smarter than dumb people!

Alrighty then, I think that's all I have time for tonight.

Until 2 am, of course...
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I have been to the doctor approximately seventeen thousand times since February.  I was on a countdown of two more appointments after today's trip to the Ear, Nose, and Throat clinic but then the doctor there said I should have allergy testing done.  So I have a follow-up for today's visit (making sure my ear was okay from the month-long ear infection I had in March) and allergy testing to look forward to in May.

It's like by not going to the doctor for so long I have built up a negative balance of doctor visits and nature is trying to balance this out.  So now I have four more appointments to dread, plus a trip to the dentist in June.  It's not that bad, I guess; the doctor today did have an instrument that looked like a pterodactyl and he did this thing where he stuck a fiber-optic scope up my nose to look at my brain--er, I mean my middle ear/eustachian tube.  There's only one appointment that I truly dread because it scares me but I don't know when that one is yet.  Hooray!!  Something ambiguous and painful in my future that I can obsess over and worry about!

I promised myself that if I ever got all of my medical stuff straight and finished writing a novel that I could get a tattoo.  I haven't come close to finishing that book yet but I may get a tattoo anyway after all these appointments stop.  My tattoo will say "Angelina Forever" and will be across my heart.

Kidding about that.

Sort of.
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The last part of yesterday's entry was about how I have no regrets.  The first thing I thought this morning was this:  "Man, I wish I hadn't posted that entry to livejournal."

But oh well.  Maybe one day I will realize that when I am feeling particularly emotional I shouldn't write things down except for in my private journal that stays in my messenger bag.  So that nobody will see it but me.

New Topic:

I got the new Avril Lavigne cd today.  Because today is the day it was released.  I also happened to get a happy little package from Amazon today with so much goodness in it that I can't wait to go to work tomorrow and plug in and ignore everyone.  What a combo:  Avril Lavigne, Billy Squier, and Pat Benatar.  The Billy is his first album, remastered and all that over in England.  I have never had this album on vinyl or otherwise.  I have heard most of the songs but now I have them all!  In original order!  Plus they put two bonus tracks on that were originally recorded onto a cassette somewhere.  What.  Ever.  I rounded out my early Pat collection too.  I have stuff of hers now that I have only had on cassette in the past and therefore have not listened to in years.  I bet I will get in trouble tomorrow for humming too loud or something.  But if I do they'll just have to deal because Pat Benatar doesn't take any shit from anyone and therefore I shall not either.

Today I wore dragon earrings.  I do not think that dragons attacked anyone anywhere so I am happy about that.

Okay I have to go watch television now.
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I had a great memory the other day.  It was something I had forgotten and shed a little light on my obsession with skulls.

I remember an uncle of mine on my father's side of the family once fell in with the "wrong" crowd and there was some sort of family meeting to discuss his possible drug use.  I can't remember if he actually got caught with pot or got arrested, but the fact was that he was most likely smoking it and this was cause for great despair within the family.  So while everyone gathered to discuss this issue, the kids were all ushered into the bedroom of the accused to play and stay out of the way of the drama.  In addition to a Pink Floyd poster (Dark Side of the Moon) on the wall, my uncle had a glow-in-the-dark skull on a shelf above his bed.  I remember little about what me and my cousins played that evening but I do remember looking at that skull.  I must have been really young, like six or seven and as I looked at the skull and saw him grinning down at me I had the realization that we all had one of those.  I mean, there are fundamental differences in men and women, but as humans, we all have a skull.  And if it ever gets to the point that the glow-in-the-dark guy was in, that means that we are no more.  That skull was nothing more than a part found in a junkyard, a replacement that could fit in any of our heads.

This morning I emailed a friend the following words:  "My earrings are guns with skulls hanging from the triggers today.  Nobody has noticed them yet."

This afternoon I found out about the Virginia Tech shootings and boy, did I feel like an asshole.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that things like those shootings are the very reason why I have at least one skull on me at all times (in addition to the one in my head, I mean).  Life can end faster than a fingersnap and god damn it, I need to be reminded of that.  Sometimes I get all sappy and tell people how awesome they are and stuff but I don't think I do it nearly enough.  I am a terrible communicator to those who are important to me most of the time.  I take for granted that there will be time to do all the things I want to do.  Because I worry about embarassing someone or coming across as a crazy person I keep my mouth shut and let moments pass when I should be shouting out loud, "TELL SOMEONE YOU LOVE THEM!  APPRECIATE WHAT YOU HAVE TODAY!  BELIEVE IN YOURSELF BECAUSE YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL!  DON'T WORRY ABOUT WHAT ANYONE ELSE THINKS!"

The Virginia Tech thing is some fucked-up shit right there.  I don't know what kind of greater plan can explain things like that, and I am not really trying to find out.  All I know is that on days like today I think about things that I have done wherein I have risked being taken for a fool and I love every single one of those things.  I am so glad I am silly enough to go for things that really seem kind of impossible on the outset.  I usually feel incredibly insecure about myself and assume that everyone else pretty much thinks I'm nuts, but on days like today I have no regrets.

If I were the praying type, my prayer for all of you would be to have no regrets as well.

Take care out there,
Susan 
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