Wednesday Night's Fight Club Moment

"Don't deal with this the way those dead people do. Deal with it the way a living person does." -- Tyler Durden

Ok, so maybe that's a TOUCH melodramatic, but last night I learned two valuable lessons:

1) My body did not fully heal in 2 weeks from the tattoo.  The area had the appearance of healing, but was still quite tender.

2) Shading needles hurt like a mother when there's no endorphin rush leading into it.

This makes me so. damn. happy.  5 hours, all told, and 5 hours of my life I am happy to have sacrificed towards decorating the temple that is my body with something that I don't think I'll ever possibly regret.

Next time, though, I might decide to find spiritual resonance with something a little bit smaller...

Didn't even have to use my AK...

TCK's first bout of the season- an away bout in Mandeville, LA, was a wonderful success.  We won, but I'm mostly happy about the way that we actually worked together as a cohesive team in regards to strategy and smart game play.  We made some progress in this direction towards the last part of last season, but two months of really focusing on these details in addition to all the other things at practice really did pay off. 

There is always more work to do, though, and I'm excited to see what comes next.

Cards Against Humanity will be going with me to every single bout for the rest of my life.

It was, indeed, a good day.

--

I'm somewhere at the end of a month of being a really-truly nonsmoker. I've gotten to that shitty point where I don't like how I smell when I leave a bar.  The upside is that it's also the point where the flowers in my office make the place smell amazing, so there's always a bright side.

Gluten free-vegetarian is not nearly as dramatic or difficult as I expected.  I don't wanna try vegan- I love my eggs and cheese- but I'm feeling amazing.  I miss fish, though.  Fish may be coming back at the end of Lent.  My GF trial is technically over on my birthday later this month, but I think I may keep it.  On Feb 1 my Glomular Filtration Rate (indication of renal function) had improved by 2%.  That could be because of the GF, or because of any number of variables, but I don't miss wheat and I've figured out that by packing a bag like a toddler's mother would do, the inconvenience factor is pretty low.

--

Don't trouble trouble, right?  I've identified that my presence on OKCupid was just adding to my stress level.  I don't want to be a bitch, but the volume of illiterate and/or married men contacting me were starting to not only piss me off but also shade my self perception.  I've always felt that dating profiles that present with a laundry list of "Do not contact me IF:" items came off as horribly negative, but I was starting to see the appeal.  So... I've killed that shit and set my account to disabled. Maybe for a week, maybe forever. Who knows?  I feel better, and I'm not experiencing anxiety when I see "DoucheBag8478 sent you a message!" in my email or on my phone.

"To change and to change for the better are two different things."

I skipped observing Lent last year.  I think I thought about it and then I forgot.

This year's contenders were:

No Meat!
No Alcohol!
No online dating!

--

No Meat won.  I'm not worried about getting anemic, and I've done it before (albeit, I've never done it without gluten, so my "easy answer" of a Veggie Delite sandwich just got kicked off the island).

I'm aware that Sundays aren't part of Lent. In the past, I've ignored that and trucked through to Easter.

We'll see how that goes.

Wherein I realize I'm older than I thought I was.

me: Ok. I have to confess something.
For the past several weeks, I have been thinking that I was coming up on my 33rd birthday... and I was wrong.
I'm going to fucking be 34.
EvilSara: :(
me: I AM SO MAD.
EvilSara: Want me to take your mind off it?
I took a 20 minute GMAT test for shits and giggles and realize how math and grammer I have forgotten
I am scared yo
you are mad you are going to be 34?
me: I am mad because I thought I was 32, really.
EvilSara: I have thought I was 32 for the last 3 years
 (yes, that counts the year I was 31)
me: I feel better.
EvilSara: I have to do the math every single time I need my age.
me: I did the math. And I did it wrong.
EvilSara: ok =-| I can't help you with that one.
EvilSara: Did you know you can't even use a simple calculator for the GMAT?
me: Clearly, I'd be screwed.
And I did not know that.

A lot of crazy and a little victory.

I'm hesitant to claim victory, but I have to acknowledge the turning of a corner on the way to it, if nothing else.

So- today I had a really great day up until about 7:00 PM, give or take.  Got up, felt great, went out to an SCA event about 2 hours away, and spent most of the day in the company of great people, learned a little bit and laughed a lot. All very, very good things.  The evening meal was amazing and almost entirely gluten free, and there were even extra brussels sprouts.  Around 7, I got ready to leave, and two things happened pretty much as soon as I got into the car:

1. I realized my cell phone wasn't "dying" but was ENTIRELY dead
2. The cellphone charger I keep in my car that's been kind of temperamental for a little while quit working entirely. 

The event site was in the serious-to-goodness middle of nowhere, so hunting for a signal had drained it down.  I had found signal a few times during the day to check for messages, but it was one of those "stand on one foot while waving an arm in a northerly direction" kind of locations.  Anyway- being entirely disconnected caused me a pretty serious anxiety attack once I got into my car.  It's not just an over-inflated ego.  I want my dad to be able to find me whenever, wherever... and then beyond that, yeah, I guess it's ego.  SO- I start heading homeward, but I can't go back the same way I came because it involved about 90 back roads and the directions were.... on my phone.  Instead, I took a longer route through Ruston to get home because I could trust myself to find it without directions (that I have a TomTom in the glove compartment slipped my mind entirely until I was almost home).

Stopped in Ruston, nearly had a meltdown in Wal-Mart's electronics section, found a charger, and the phone started charging. It was so dead I couldn't turn it on for 20 minutes, but still... one step closer to plugged-inned-ness.  A long 20 minutes, but after which I was rewarded with 2 non-urgent voice mails, 5 no-big-deal texts, and absolutely no notifications that the world had ended due to my negligence.  Take that, ego.  Life can go on without you.

SO-- the BIG FUCKING DEAL to this tangent of how crazy I can be sometimes...

I figured out around 2 that I had no new cartridges for my e-cigarette.  

I've been a horrible quitter in the past.  I've "quit" smoking a few times, but mostly with caveats.  I'm not smoking.... unless I'm in a bar, or having a drink.  I'll quit, but I'll bum one when people are standing around after practice smoking.  Or if it's a bad day, or I'm sad, or I'm anxious because my electronic leash went dead.  I did actually successfully quit-quit last year for a very brief time, but it's never stuck because I've been weak about it, or I wasn't ready, or whatever.  I'd kinda-quit, but I'd cave at the first time an opportunity presented itself.  So, when my last cartridge completely gave up the ghost approximately 2 minutes after I got into my car tonight, that was the perfect moment to stop at a gas station and get a pack- after all, it was an anxious moment and I'd NEED it, right?

The option didn't even cross my mind, not once.  I dealt. I listened to my music and I chewed on a straw (and, ok, I sucked on a dead vapor cartridge, too), but that I could have just stopped and gotten actual cigarettes didn't occur until I was home.

I'm still scared to call myself a non-smoker, and I probably will be for a long time.  I'm very proud of my little success today, though. 

Ink, Touchiness, and "Fuck Yeah Louisiana!"

The state bird of Louisiana is the Brown Pelican.  The state flag of Louisiana has a pelican, too.  The official state nickname is "The Pelican State."

Shouldn't have been surprised when my new tattoo was immediately Facebook-named "Fuck Yeah Louisiana!"

Work in progress. I had to tap out at 2 hours.

While I live in Louisiana, the symbolism of my birdy has absolutely jack shit to do with the state. I like where I live, and I consider myself to be "from" here if I'm from anywhere, but I'm just not patriotic in that sense.

In the SCA, the highest recognition one can receive for service to the organization is induction into the Order of the Pelican.  I was inducted in 2007 and have been thinking about a tattoo to represent not only that accolade but my love for the organization and my appreciation of how much it's meant to me for well over half my life.

Aside from that, I have also long looked to the image of the pelican in her piety (she's piercing her breast to feed her blood to her young) as a spiritual, social, and personal reminder to try to be better, and to find gratification in acts of service even if it's uncomfortable.  It's ok to give parts of yourself away, and I work well with visual imagery... losing a few drops is nothing to her, but it means an awful lot to her chicks. Even though I have the maternal instinct of a stapler, I get that. It works for me. It helps me when shit gets tough.

SO.... I'm trying to take the good-hearted ribbing about my attachment to my state bird in stride instead of rolling my eyes and getting too horribly defensive.  After all, if I am going to brand myself with a representation most of my friends would consider to be a state thing, I should expect that, right?  And anyway- I didn't get it put on for anybody but myself, and that's what matters here.

"I ain't here to impress nobody"-- Achievement Unlocked.

First-world problems.

I don't write very often when I'm content, nor do I write when I'm depressed.  I'm not sure it is possible to be both concurrently but I have been feeling a nagging sense of ennui with absolutely no time to spin around twice.  My bed is being made every morning and my kitchen is clean, both signs of "I am a Happy Person" for me.  I'm getting a new tattoo tomorrow; one I've been mulling over since 2007, and I am super excited about that.

I am BUSY. This weekend, I had social funtime with 2 groups of people as well as two individuals, but I also had time to curl up with a book and a movie, as well as to knock items off of my "to do" list around the house.  This week, I have busy evenings, but one kept to myself for nobody but me.  This coming weekend I have at least two social outings with people I adore.  GOOD THINGS, they are happening for me.  I am not worried about money, health, or whether or not I am valued.  My knee is feeling great and my skating feels strong, and I don't need to sit out of half of the drills at practice for fear of reinjury.  Overall, I feel quite sane. I remember to take my vitamins. I'm still not eating gluten and my body is feeling wonderful.  I'm remembering to do my PT, my balance exercises, and a few extra planks just because I can.  I have stressors, but they are minimal.  

I think I am doing a good job of taking care of myself. I'm sleeping enough, not eating junk, considering my own feelings before I get involved in anything. I'm practicing good awareness, which might be why I'm so flippin' confused about my general state of mind, today.  I am freaking ANGSTY as hell, and I have no reason.  I'm not responding to a damn thing.... I just have a constant growl in my throat and I'm surly and bitchy.  Not just today- this week. Last week. Possibly the week before.  Not consistently, for sure, but more often than I'd like.

First world problems, first world answers.  I went and found myself a book on meditating on happiness and gratitude that came recommended from a happy chick I know, and I'm going to brain myself out of my funk starting tonight.