Calm Waters on the Waves of my Mind

August 25, 2011 § 5 Comments

Mountain Goats – This Year

Let me try this again. I have no real reason to explain my cessation of posting. I suppose the newness of marriage caught my attention the past year. Let me catch you up to speed before I begin my ramblings.

In December we recreated our first weekend together. We went up to San Francisco for the weekend. Instead of seeing Cirque Du Soleil this time we saw the San Francisco Ballet perform The Nutcracker.

Our Hotel room. Same as our first weekend together. Except only one bed this time.

The ceiling of the opera house.

View taken while sipping on Champagne during intermission.

It poured rain nearly the entire weekend. Made walking around San Fran quite a feat.

Vance and I got married on January 19th 2011 downtown Santa Cruz. It was beautiful. We had his parents and two of our closest friends at our side. It was the low key and intimate ceremony I always wanted.

The bride wore black.


You bet your ass I got a good coffee after getting married. This was of course pre-sushi.

We went down to Los Angeles  for a week. I got to relive my childhood and enjoy my new-found adulthood all at once. I’m married to the perfect man for me.My best friend obviously, but even more than that.  A goofy balance to my seriousness. The herp to my derp. The only person who has been able to confront me about my eating disorder without it feeling like an attack on my character but genuinely coming from a place of love and support. Rather than the fear and disappointment others have shown. He has shown me that I am deserving of more. He’s broken down my walls.  He has taught me how to dream. I know that as long as I’m with him I’ll be happy in the moment and also have something to constantly look forward to.

Bummed that I didn't find Eeyore.

Husband = Slaughtered (not spousal abuse I swear)

On the last night we had a fireworks show from our hotel balcony. Terrible shot. But a perfect moment.

In the spring I went on two field trips with my kids. First to the Carmel Mission.

I got way too excited about the name of the plant.


My internal laughter at the "Holy Water" was probably disrespectful, but so is charging $5 for tap water that's been blessed. Whether you believe in it or not, blessings shouldn't be for profit.




The next trip was on a sailboat around the Santa Cruz bay.  It took forever for me to quit panicking over my 30+ kids dangling off the edge of the sailboat. Luckily they all survived. We celebrated with pizza at the harbor afterwards.

A shot of a beautiful woman whom I had the pleasure of working with last school year. Her calm demeanor and gentle yet at the same time fiery personality made me want to be a better person.


One of the girls couldn't go. Instead she and her dad ran to this lighthouse and waved until we couldn't see her anymore.


Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk (In the warm California sun. BOARDWALK!) <--- if you live in the bay area you know what I'm talking about. And you read that in the obnoxious voice from the commercial that's been on since 1995.


That brings us to this summer. I spent two weeks working with an adorable little 6 year old girl. We went to a day camp at UCSC’s Organic Farm. It was a wonderful experience. I’m still mad at myself for lazily leaving my camera at home, failing to capture the natural beauty that was all around me. It truly did not feel like work at all.

Each day was spent exploring the orchards and making vegetarian meals from herbs and produce we picked minutes before. The kids were excited to taste anything and everything. It only furthered my belief that any can child learn to love fresh food. Having them involved in the harvest and subsequent preparation of the food will only make them want it even more. There were so many times I heard a kid say “I hate that” only to see them chowing down after going through the whole process. They’ll eat the veggies when the see where it comes from, the same as how many people would stop eating meat (or certain types) if they saw where it came from.

I was genuinely sad to finish working. Not only at the farm but with the sweet little girl I was with. I’m hoping that I get a chance to do respite with her in the near future. Who else will give me the title of “Bibbity Bobbity Boo Mother”?

I’m a week away from starting the school year with my buddy. He’s now twelve and starting middle school. Very exciting. We had an extremely difficult year in terms of his emotional health. I’m hoping that the new environment, being around kids his own age (he was held back two years and he’s very tall for his age), and being in a class that doesn’t leave him behind will help his self esteem. As an instructional aide, my job is to help him do the work. But last year he wasn’t able to do anything even with my help. It was heartbreaking for me and crushing for him. Being in a SDC (special day class) this year will hopefully be better. There’s no way I could act as his sole teacher for an entire year again (unless they paid me what the teachers make). He’ll now meet the kids socially and academically. I can’t imagine being in a class where you’re two years old, a foot taller, and in many areas three-five years behind.  My fingers are crossed.

Now I just have to figure out how to dress so that I don’t look like one of the students. Laugh all you want, but I have the body of a 13 year old and the Vice Principal already mistook me for one at orientation.




Few things are harder to put up with than the annoyance of a good example.

August 25, 2010 § 11 Comments

Architecture In Helsinki – Heart It Races

A few weeks ago while perusing Craigslist (I love CL because it led me to my first three jobs and first car) I saw an listing titled “OBSESSED WITH BEING THIN?” Naturally my curiosity was peaked.

From the salad bar at my local health food store Staff of Life.

Mixed baby greens, beets, edemame, feta, balsamic vinegar.

To summarize, the ad was calling for people with ED’s who would like to help out with a potential documentary on ED’s. They would film an interview to be shown to network producers.

I never get tired of looking at apples. Their markings always look like the brush stokes of paint.

Flaxseed bread heel with Better n' PB.

In return, if the documentary was given the “ok” the subjects would be given free treatment in exchange for being filmed.

I'm telling ya, I always wait until the very last second to get out of my car for work.

The list of words my little buddy and I will be working on this fall.

I’m a true believer in the saying “If you keep doing a bunch of the same, you’re going to get a bunch of the same.”I’m tired of how my lack of recovery is going so, what did I have to lose?

Gluten free pasta, mushrooms, onions, tomatoes, sea salt, pepper, lemon juice, garlic powder.

After replying to the ad, several email exchanges, phone calls with two different producers, I had an interview set up for the end of that week.

Banana oats w/ almonds and coconut milk.

Coffee w/ a side of our sweet old Lab Isabelle.

I met the creator/producer of the project at a beautiful stone house downtown. She herself has had an ED for over 15 years.

Beets seasoned with pepper, basil, and lemon juice. Flaxseed bread toasted with avocado and chili sauce.

Peach & almonds.

She filmed/interviewed both Vance, me, and Vance and I.

Tomato, mushrooms, lettuce,and mustard.

Very weird combo, but I loved it: Beets with lemon, s+p, garlic, basil, oregano, thyme, hot sauce, on top of a boca patty.

We probably filmed for about maybe an hour. But we talked for about three. She was very open with her situation and the impact that this disorder has had on her life.

Trader Joe's impulse run.

Not as good as the creamy peanut butter.

Toasted chopped almonds, mixed with a bit of melted butter and honey, topped with plain yogurt, marrionberry jam and cinnamon.

Being a producer in Hollywood, she told me she was absolutely disgusted with the type of programming she’d been involved with. And was tired of seeing show after show focused on drug addictions when ED’s are much more difficult (her words but in many ways I believe she’s right). A heroin addict can go to rehab and stay away from it for the rest of their lives. ED sufferers can’t quit cold turkey. We have to face food every day, three, four, five times a day.

Making chocolate chip muffins the way my mom did growing up...well at least sort of.

The project was barely even in the conception stage. I wouldn’t expect to hear anything about it for a while. But even if nothing happens, it was great to be able to talk to someone who could empathize with my situation for once.

Peach + Kashi Go-Lean + Coconut milk + cinnamon.

Those toasted brown spots up there ^ that's the good stuff.

My absolute favorite sandwich 5 years running. Good sourdough. A sliced ripe peach. A sharp white cheese. Pepper. Broiled. Then drizzled w/ a wee bit of honey.

I’ve never had any sort of treatment and I’ve never known anyone with an ED period. Knowing that I’m not alone (at least in the “real” world) was comforting. Having Vance see another woman with similar, maybe even worse struggles probably helped him understand even more.

Thank you staff room.

Sure it's pretty.

But it was disgusting.

The majority of store bought baked goods have yet to discover the spectrum of flavor outside of "sickening sweet". And what the **** is that orange thing? I took threw that away before offering it to Vance. I try not to poison him as much as possible.

Pendulum – Hold Your Color

These past few weeks have been the crossover between Vance’s summer break and my break in between summer school and the school year. We decided to take full advantage of it.

In true San Fran fashion, Nate showed up with a flower in his hair. An illegal flower. ha.

Working on Nate's mini coop.

Starting two Fridays ago our buddy Nate came down from San Fran. Along with him he brought copious amounts of alcohol. More than any human being should consume in a weekend. Smashing through 3 trays of Jello shots in two days is never wise.

Imagine this full. Multiply by 3. Imagine why the idea of Jello will never appeal to me again. First and last time for everything right?


After spending the whole weekend consuming no real food and dancing on counter-tops, the next few days were spent detoxing.

Stir fry for breakfast is what hung-over me wanted.

Hung-over me then wanted this disgusting looking boca patty covered in onions, mustard, chili powder, cumin, and green canned chilies. Hung-over me craves some RANK stuff.

After the initial shock to my system wore off, I was able to stomach some clean food.

I've always loved celery, I was reminded why I never eat it. It will get stuck in between my molars, and I will be forced to floss until bleed enough to draw the attention of others. It turns into a war between me and the celery. THERE WILL BE BLOOD.

I realized I don't really represent the amount of chocolate I consume on a daily basis. I don't like to talk about calories. But I would like to point out that I may freak out about eating a few too many pieces of fruit. But regardless, I will consume at least 500 calories worth of chocolate a day. I don't add this into my daily "total". Because chocolate and coffee (which I also don't add in) are in the category of "medicine". So look at this picture and multiply it by about 15 to get a good idea.

Thursday Vance and I loaded up the car, and headed for San Francisco.

Road food.

Junky bar. Although pretty decent tasting, I'm convinced that the "Plus" in Fiber Plus bars is "Severe Abdominal Pain".

This has found a small spot in my heart and large spot in my purse. Cinnamon was happy to welcome a new friend. And I finally found a store to buy these dudes in three packs. HELL YEAH.

My honey-bunches-of-oats grabbed this for me while pumping gas. Because in our hippie town they have cliff and luna bars at gas stations.

After an unplanned detour onto the bay bridge and subsequently Treasure Island,

Aww crap. We're not supposed to be going over this long ass bridge.

Luckily if you accidentally get on the Bridge you can turn around on Treasure Island.

There's really nothing on it. I can't imagine it being a destination of any sort. Unless I missed something. There was some sort of huge naval building to the right of the this coffee stand, but coffee is way more interesting.

Bay Bridge and San Fran.

Terrible shot of the skyline, but I was freezing. I believe Mark Twain said that the coldest winter he ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.

And after my suffering, the fog is hiding the Golden Gate. You can barely see Alcatraz on the right.

we found ourselves in Vallejo.

Checking in.

Happy-camper. Totally not carsick AT ALL.

There is only one thing in Vallejo, that would be Discovery Kingdom. The roller-coasters did not impress this roller-coaster connoisseur. I need to go bungee jumping or something to get it out of my system.

Vance won the classic strong man hammer game and got super hero capes for all of us. Superman ain't my style. BATMAN ALL THE WAY. Wore that baby all day.

At least they're honest. These DID suck.

Note the cranberry juice in that water bottle. Keep that vile stuff far away from me. I'm pretty sure that's how he won all those capes.

The great thing about good friends, is that you end up having more fun hanging in the hotel room sipping mimosas, heating V8 juice in a coffee pot to make ghetto tomato soup, and playing poker, than at the actual theme park.

Nate's birthday = free margaritas. Except for the minor = me.

Which is just fine w/ me. Tequila makes me sick. And instead I got a sombrero.

I completely failed to document the amount of alcohol that we had. We had three trashcans turned into coolers, the sink and bathtub as well. We even had a $30 BOX of wine. hahaha. We ragged on Nate as the birthday boy washed down his morning cereal with a swig of the classy stuff.

Over these past few weeks my perspective of myself has taken a turn. For so long I’ve viewed myself as such a flawed individual, constantly trying to make up for my defects in every other aspect of my life. Thus, I turned into a perfectionist.

Red Delicious apples never live up to their name. I'm convinced they are genetically modified for cattle feed and hotel continental breakfasts.

Grabbed these just to see how long it would take for them to go stale. Apparently three days out in the oped was not nearly long enough to make any sort of impact.

But spending so much time with certain friends of mine I realized how much HUGE flaws are a part a normal person. But realizing that these people I care about deal with certain problems isn’t what changed my perspective, what did that was the fact that they were completely comfortable talking about it. Rather than be ashamed they just accepted it as a part of them. They could try and change, but even if they don’t succeed their value as a human being doesn’t diminish.

Don't even act like this sign isn't absolutely wonderful.

Even more humbling, was that each of us knew the gritty details and yet thought no less of the person. We still accepted and loved each other.

This is a crucial thing for those with ED’s to understand. We’re often so afraid that this problem makes us less of a person. Unlovable. But it’s just not true. I finally understand what Vance means when he continually tells me that if I was ever to open up to his mom about my current struggle, she would love me even more than she already does. I knew he wouldn’t lie, but I just couldn’t understand until now.

Flaws humanize people. Even if others may not have the same flaw, just the realization that we are human makes us relatable and approachable. In some way, if we are able to get past the shame, our disorder can possibly help us to connect with those around us. If anything is to be gained from our struggle, let it be this.

A Safe Place To Be

August 5, 2010 § 7 Comments

the deep sea – a safe place to be

(My youngest brother wrote this song. We recorded it together 4 years ago)

Having an ED for the past 7 years, means that everyone close to me has been aware. It also means that I’ve spent all of my teenage years under a microscope.

Growing up I was always anxious watching my dad drive with a coffee cup in between his legs. Like father, like daughter.

Flaxseed bread toasted w/ better n' pb. Fugi.

Everything I did, in their minds, could be chalked up to a by-product of my ED, rather than my ED being a by-product of something else.

I've yet to have a bad clementine.

Better N' PB toasted on Ezekiel Gluten-free Brown Rice bread. I love the texture of this bread. I buy it for that since I don't try to eat gluten free.

I haven’t felt the comfort of being able to eat in front of others without anxiety in years. Even in front of those who have no knowledge of my problems.

Basil from the organic stand at work.

Stole from the staff room candy bowl in the name of childhood nostalgia. My dad would keep a bag of these in his office mini-fridge. The only "junk" food I've ever seen him keep on hand. He stopped buying them after we got older. Proving once again that he will only eat the "good" stuff. I like to think I get my sophisticated palette from him.

Family members have always scrutinized everything that I consume whether it’s  “too healthy” or “too junky”. Moving out and in with people who didn’t know of my disorder gave me a new-found calm. Although I’m still not comfortable eating in front of others, it does allow me to momentarily feel normal.



With Darren Brown.

Of course that didn’t make the problem go away. Sometimes it’s fun to pretend to be someone else.

Multi-grain cherrios w/ cinnamon.

But at the back of my mind it continued to plague me. Not my disorder, but my dishonesty with the person I’m closest to. He discloses everything to me and yet I’m not returning the favor. That is not the foundation a good relationship should be built upon.

Staff room tea. Good Earth is local.


Tomorrow is our 9 month anniversary. We’ve known each other through mutual friends for over 9 years, but we count from the day he officially asked me for my number.

"Beach weather". I have yet to trade in my sweater dresses and scarves.

Up until a few days ago I had not been completely honest. He knew about my past with an ED but he didn’t know the truth about my present.

Whenever Vance finds something from a past gf he insists on a burning. I can't say I don't love it.

Vance made me in the renaissance era game he played for all of 5 minutes (it sucked). You could only customize the head. He got annoyed that he had no choice when it came to the huge bosom.

I’d come so close to telling him many times. But often the fear of losing the false “normalcy” I’d acquired kept me from following through. I finally couldn’t take dealing with the burden in secrecy any longer.

I can't live in Portland. It caused me to go 3 years without the In-N-Out burger that I grew up with. Vance got me to stand in line at midnight for the release of Starcraft by promising to rectify this absence of deliciousness. A strawberry shake was had as well. I was happy. And I even happier when I found coffee about an hour later.

In-N-Out grilled cheese. Basically a cheeseburger without the patty. :D

When ordering at In-N-Out I get my fries "well done", resulting in extra crispy fries just how I like them.

If there is a perfect way to react to that sort of disclosure, he demonstrated it. He used to work in the same profession as I, and thus knows how to deal with people in vulnerable situations.

Banana oats w/ Better n' PB. I overslept. Thus, oatmeal.

Part of breakfast.

I only had time to eat half of my breakfast at home. So the other half was in the car.

Although he doesn’t understand EDs, he can understand the mentality of someone with a disorder. He understands that he can’t “fix” me. Only I can do that. He understands that he can’t try and control me because that can and most likely will make it worse.

Organic beets and basil from the vegetable stand at work.

Beet greens. These were good baked kale chip style.

It hasn’t made me worse or better in terms of behavior. But it has made me happier knowing that for once there is someone I can turn to without fear of judgment or repercussions. Which, makes my recovery seem that much more possible.

Multi-grain cherrios w/ a peach.

Once again this special person has given me a hope that I never thought existed.

Cinnamon is always my choice. The only flavor that doesn't make me sick after chewing it to death.

Waiting till the very last minute to get out of my warm car before work in the morning. FYI: I've had those shoes since I was 12. The amount of surgeries performed with super-glue is ridiculous. I make things last.

I’m left speechless in the face of such understanding. Calm waters when I anticipated a storm.

Kashi Go-lean.

Like most men he wants to fix all of our problems. When I’m sad he starts trying to figure out what he can do to make me happy, when usually there really isn’t much that can be done when dealing with female hormones.

Oatmeal, cinnamon, better n' pb, nectarine.

Sunset from our bedroom glass door.

the deep sea – the current of my thoughts

(I love that one of my favorite songs was written by a sweet boy I love)

In this instance I didn’t have to even tell him that there’s not much he can do. It gets exhausting having to bear this weight 24/7 without reprieve. Remarkably, he already knew that he just needs to be there for me to lean on every once in a while.

Better version of me

July 21, 2010 § 12 Comments

Fiona Apple – Better Version Of Me
You bet your ass I’m going to continue to pull the Song title = post title thing.
Going to bed at 12am only to get up at 5am just doesn’t make me feel good. And yet why is Vance, who goes to sleep at the same time but gets up at 8:30am, the one taking a nap next to me? I don’t know how I do this during the school year. I’m relearning to live my days in zombie mode now that my summer school session with my student (the student I work with during the school year) started this week.
Granted I don’t have to leave until 7:45, but I’m the type who takes hours to wake up. I hate nothing more than to be rushed in the morning. I eat incredibly slow, and if I started my morning off scrambling the groundwork will be laid for a day of unrest. Also, I’m a sappy sort of girl who insists on getting up at that ungodly hour so I have enough time to make my man breakfast from scratch.

Apple, raisin, cinnamon coffee cake.

You see growing up I never had cereal or poptarts for breakfast (those were only allowed every once in a blue moon for dessert only. I never even had a poptart until middle school). Every morning, without fail, my mom would have freshly baked muffins, cinnamon rolls, waffles, chocolate chip pancakes, you name it. Along with, the mandatory protein shake.  The days I woke up to find oatmeal keeping warm on the stove, I knew something was wrong.
I don’t understand the blogger obsession with oatmeal.  It reminds me of lackluster mornings where my mom was tired and I was left feeling unloved. I can understand how you could get excited over the potential for creativity, but it’ll never be for me. So, although Vance insists he loves oatmeal, I pretty much refuse to do anything that I wouldn’t want done for me. I view the way I feed others as a direct expression of my love for them. But I guess I do that in most areas of my life.

The command center.

I’m a homebody type of person. I have no real desire for danger or excitement because I’m much more interested in simply having a calm and peaceful everyday life. I’d choose the slower paced life over having a typical 9-5 job, crazy weekend, once a year vacation. I find greater value in creating a comforting home than any sort of over-the-top gesture of affection.
Maybe it’s because my personal life is crazy enough. When I say that I mean that my family growing up (growing up being up until about 6 months ago) was dysfunctional, and obviously having an ed means that to a certain extent, my mind is too. So, it’s understandable why I would devote so much effort not to having an exciting life, but a peaceful and safe one. I just want stability.
For years I would spend my days with a constant tight ball in my chest. I didn’t really notice until I found fleeting moments when it would dissipate.

Hempplus granola.

When I was 15 I had a terrible sleep schedule. For an entire year I woke up at 5pm and went to bed at 11am.   I did this simply so I could avoid people.  I could find relief from my anxiety in the quite calm of the early mornings. This was before my current relapse. But I was not at all in a healthy place mentally. I think at one point I went about 2 months without leaving the house. Spending all of my time holed up in my room reading and sketching. In the winter months in Oregon, I occasionally would go for 3am strolls in the fresh snowfall. Marveling at how the reflection of the moon made it almost like daylight.
I struggled with depression for a very long time. Starting with the onset of anorexia at 12 till I was 17 ½. I tried Prozac when I was 17 because my brother who I was living with at time insisted. It didn’t help. All it did was make it so I couldn’t express my emotions.  I became a balloon that was quickly getting bigger and bigger, feeling that I was going to explode at any moment, which is exactly what happened.

The nature of my work leads me to some odd reading materials.

After going to an internist for the first time, she finally explained to me what was wrong. The reason why SSRI’s weren’t working for me was because they don’t cause your body to create serotonin. They work by causing your brain to simply release more of it, like squeezing a grape.
My problem was not that I wasn’t releasing enough serotonin, but that my body simply wasn’t making enough of it. After years of inadequate diet and depression, I had simply exhausted my reserves. So instead of a grape, it was like squeezing a raison. According to her, this is the main reason why anti-depressants won’t work for some. It’s also the reason why when depressed people with crave carbohydrates, the reason why binging would bring me such temporary relief.

Applesauce for coffee cake, better n' PB, 70% dark chocolate, flaxseed bread, and raisins.

I immediately bought some 5-htp (which my oldest brother, who is a fountain of knowledge, had been telling me to do for months). 5-htp, of course, helps your body to create serotonin. I took one 100 mg pill before bed (not to be dramatic, but I was suicidal) as one last hope.
Some people describe depression as living in a fog. For me, depression was like my mind was one continuous Downward Spiral Era Nine Inch Nails video. Loud and dark.

I don't know what this is about, but he never shows up for class.

I woke the next day to silence, in a calm and peaceful place. It wasn’t like popping a happy pill. Rather, it was like someone had finally turned down the volume and made the world stop shaking. I could think about the uncertainty of my future with hope rather than anxiety.
I was also angry though. Angry that I hadn’t learned what was wrong sooner. That my doctor was so quick to prescribe a drug, rather than figure out what was wrong. Why did I have to go to a “special” doctor to learn that I was able to fix what had been plaguing me since childhood with a $10 bottle from the nutrition section of my grocery store?
I went from never going a day without crying for nearly 4 years, to only crying tears of joy. I was finally allowed meet and become my true self. If it hadn’t been for that discovery, I would be a completely different person.
I may have an ed that plagues me every day, but I can honestly say that I am happy. It’s just a bad habit I need to kick. My mindset is completely different than it used to be. I’m the same weight I was before I started taking 5-htp, and it is technically underweight, but now I look in the mirror and love what I see, which is key.

Burning bad memories.

It wasn’t the physical appearance that needed to change. This isn’t earth shattering, but it was important for me to realize that I was completely content with my body. I’ve been at the same weight for almost 2 years. Although, I know I would freak out if I gained 5 pounds, I realize the importance of being able to come to terms to not having the “losing” mindset. Now I notice how gross I look if I lose a few pounds.

Kashi Go-lean, roasted unsalted almonds, dried sweetened cranberries.

I still feel the urge to be able to hide. But I also realize how much more important it is for me to stay here for the person who needs me. I no longer own my body solely, but share it with another. “You must love your wife as your own body.”It goes either way. Abusing myself, is abusing my fiancé.
Working with little ones also changed my perspective. I became so thankful of the pushups I do every day for giving me the ability to carry children. Bringing smiles to the faces of the 6 and 7 year olds who were so used to adults telling them they were too big for a piggy-back ride.
I felt a desire to become stronger because I knew that I was responsible for the safety of their lives. Women are nurturers. We have a natural desire to take care of others. I don’t want to be a pathetic excuse for a woman who can’t even take care of herself. What do you think of when you picture a comforting mother? Do you see a harsh supermodel? Or do you see a soft womanly body? Mothers should live for their children. Not for their own self interests.
One of the most important things someone has ever told me was, “You can’t expect someone else to love you if you first can’t love yourself. I realized that before I could even think about a relationship with anyone, I needed to learn to be happy with myself. If I can’t stand being around me, why should I expect anyone else? You need to build your house before you can invite someone in. That’s why I think young marriages tend to fail. They never got the chance to become whole themselves. I’m not the sort of person who thinks of love as two halves making a whole. Ideally it should be two complete people coming together to create something much greater.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’s easier to be happy when you are able to see past yourself. When you hold yourself accountable and realize that others need you. It’s important to stop allowing yourself to live as a victim. Rather see your strength, your potential to be the shoulder for someone else to lean on. We all have the ability to be the stability we crave. Just as I love to have someone I know will always be there for me no matter what, I want to return the favor.

You’d be nonconforming too if you looked just like me

July 13, 2010 § 12 Comments

Santa Esmeralda – Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood
Is this a recent phenomenon of the younger generation, or am I just now becoming aware of it because of my young age? The obsession with contrived individualism.

Farmer's market on Sunday.

I hate how the hispanic produce sellers put lime and chili powder on all of the fresh fruit. It keeps you from being able to determine the quality.

My father in-law was upset that they were selling live animals. He regretted not buying one later for his pond.

The more I think about it, the more nauseated I get. Everyone is obsessed with their own eclecticism. We’re so convinced that our taste in music, movies, art, humor, ext. is so unique, it would be a crime against humanity to not vomit it all over everyone in the vicinity.

When we got home from the farmer's market, I sampled the nectarines and strawberries we got.

Truly intelligent people don’t feel the need to walk around proclaiming their intelligence. Whenever I hear someone reference how smart they are (or god forbid their IQ) I can’t help but think of them as inane. In the same way, true individuals don’t feel the need to proclaim their uniqueness. It’s insincere, and comes across as insecure.

My oldest brother has a collection of vintage WW2 era postcards. These are from the early 1900's. I got 4 for $2. Not sure if they're his taste. I shall see.

It goes hand in hand with narcissism. We all know the people who seem to spend all of their time taking pictures of all the “fun” they’re having, rather than actually having the fun. Or maybe that’s the fun part for them, trying to provoke envy in others.

kashi go-lean, nectarine from the farmer's market, cinnamon, almond dream

Our society is so focused on telling every child how special and unique they are (yes they are, and I’m not debating that). But we are failing to instill a quality of the up-most importance: humility. My generation and the one being raised now, are turning into self-entitled egocentric monsters.

$60 later...

At least it'll last 6 months.

People have this complex that every aspect of themselves, and their perceived world, must play out like a well executed ballet. As long as others think I’m this character, it doesn’t matter what I really am. Complete superficiality. Websites like Facespace are your own personal Photoshop for your life. You can create any sort of virtual pantomime you like.

TJ's trip. Kashi Go-lean, Almond Breeze (only because they don't have almond dream and it's much cheaper), better n' pb, tahini sauce, baby greens, apples that I actually got from a local fruit stand.

Trail mix from the fruit stand. I bulked it up with more almonds and cranberries I had on hand. And no, that's not my leopard print pillow in the background.

Broke up and added to the trail mix.

Try and not worry about if others perceive you to be interesting. Worry more about being genuine. There’s enough plastic in the world and we’re running out of oil.

I have a problem with being able to handle the feeling of fullness. I also have a fear of drinking calories (like many). This is to try and calm those fears gradually. Only 100 calories and enough weight to get me used to the feeling of food in my stomach. I'm having this first thing in the morning.

These help immensely to get rid of the "full" feeling, easing my anxiety.

It’s not important how many people notice you. It’s who notices you. I’d rather get the respect of someone I respect than of the myriads of faceless masses (One of my favorite lyrics from MSI would be, “You’re telling me that fifty million screaming fans are never wrong. I’m telling you that fifty million screaming fans are f***ing morons.”).
Crave substance. Laminate may look like real hardwood to your friends, but you and someone with a keen eye know the difference.
I have no idea if this post is coherent in any way. I could go into depth much further, but in the 10 minutes I’ve spent typing I’ve acquired a massive headache caused by too much stupidity. Plus I have so many intelligent and unique things to do.

Less introspective, more tangible amusement

July 11, 2010 § 8 Comments

This is going to be a mis-mash of things that have my interest.
My internet is extremely slow right now because Vance is downloading the latest season of “The Misadventures of Flapjack” (aka the best cartoon on television).
This show is so delightfully twisted and dark for a children’s program. If you were a fan of the greatness of “Invader Zim”, you’ll like this.
My favorite song from my friend’s band Polare:
Polare – Plantonic

wheat bran, apple, cinnamon, stevia, sea salt, the tears of angels.

When we were watching this scene from Kill Bill, Vance turned to me and said, “If you ever find the shirt Uma’s wearing, you must buy it.”
After much searching of the world wide weberverse, I decided the only way to get my hands on this item was to steal the graphic from a screenshot and enlist to fulfill my dreams.

I was quite pleased with myself.

If I’m ever in an off mood, one thing always is a sure fix: Mitch Hedberg. R.I.P my favorite pot-head.
Mitch Hedberg – Koalas

My oldest brother's antique Japanese Men's Kimono.

100 year old Samurai sword guards.

I walked to the local market yesterday for some much needed grape juice.

On my street is this ostentatious mansion.

Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman used to live here. But now it's abandoned since it's about ready to fall off the side of the mountain.

I’m terrible at video games, but I’m amazed at how much I’ve learned about them. I actually have opinions about something I couldn’t care less about 6 months ago. Whatever your persuasion, this song from Portal is genius:

Mixed greens, steamed carrots, zucchini from our garden, aminos, nooch, cumin, lemon juice, salt and pepper.

Pop Quiz
How do you get banned from the Boardwalk for the next 12 months?
Answer: Have one too many drinks and then decide the huge stage on the beach is simply begging to be danced upon. Also, do this:

Our local rent-a-cops aren't very understanding.

Human Behavior

July 9, 2010 § 15 Comments

Björk – Human Behavior


It’s curious how often our food and eating behaviors correlate with the way we act in many other areas of life. For me and many others, I have the tendency to restrict only to feel fear of losing my discipline when I can’t resist any longer.

Vance's breakfast. Gluten free pancake mix beefed up with flaxseed meal and oatbran. Topped with apples, cinnamon, and an almond butter sauce.

Mine got less effort put into it. Less apple arranging, more plopping onto a plate haphazardly.

This reminds me of my relationships with others. I moved around a lot as a kid and teenager. Which would make it hard for anyone to stay connected with friends. And for those who are naturally introverted it makes it nearly impossible. As I said before, I’m terrible with goodbyes. So eventually I just stopped trying to connect with others to avoid that inevitable pain.

Ezekiel toasted with Better than PB. Placed on my favorite plate I bought in San Fran's Chinatown when I was 16.

Strawberries, grapes, stevia, and cinnamon. Yes I have an insatiable sweet-tooth and thus put stevia on everything.

Abstaining from establishing connections with others eventually made it in my eyes impossible. So I’ve spent the last decade keeping 95% of my thoughts to myself. Never really feeling the impulse to share what was on my mind to others. Not out of fear of them not understanding, I simply became emotionally and mentally self-sufficient.

As much as I'd like to make you think that I enjoy breakfast from the comfort of the hardwood floor, this is where it all goes down. Bed with book in tow.

These were on sale. The stats looked optimistic. But that was its only redeeming quality.

It's rare for me to ever call a bar truly disgusting, but this was. Vance gave me the most disappointed look I've ever seen.

I would only feel the desire to become close to others simply because I knew it was expected of me. I occasionally would force myself to go out, but I found it so emotionally draining. Socializing was a muscle I simply did not workout, and could barely move. Things that others view as relaxing and fun, I found exhausting, and quite frankly, torturous.

My favorite bowl of cereal. Kashi Go-Lean, Strawberries, Sea Salt, Stevia, Cinnamon, and Almond Breeze.

That was until Vance for some reason set his interests upon me. Connecting with him was effortless. For the first time in my life I naturally craved that connection that I had been denying my whole life.

California has still not realized that it is July.

I am part plant. I need the sun to photosynthesize.

Layer upon layer of disappointment.

I read once about how certain paraplegics can regain feeling in certain areas by having electrical impulses placed upon specific areas of their spine. That’s what Vance did. He brought back to life a part of myself that I thought had been lost.

I was reintroduced to a past lover: Veganaise. Made a toasted bagel to celebrate.

When I met my youngest brother's girlfriend for the first time, she gave me this cow key-chain. It moos when you press the button on its head. It also moos when you lean on it in a quiet bank, causing several people to jump.

How does this relate to food? Depriving myself of something out of fear. And now that I’ve allowed myself this pleasure, no, necessity, I simply can’t get enough of it, and I can sometimes lose my discipline. The issue I have with food is the same issue I’ve always had with my fellow earthlings.

Oh my dear little egg friend, the hour of death is nigh.

At least there’s no downside to overindulging in love when it’s reciprocated.

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