ohai seasonal blues, there you are

Darn.

I'd hoped I'd taken a miss on the seasonal blues. Here I am, after all, in this state that gets regular bursts of sunshine. It's warm enough that most days I don't need a coat.

It's been raining. I may have lost a friend.

So, I'm blue.

Rain here is defiantly a blessing. This area was suffering for want of water, and now here it is. Coating the streets with wet, making the grass everywhere turn pale green instead of the gorgeous golden yellow it was. Flowers hang from trees and peek from soil. Little road side farms show signs of preparing for a prosperous season ahead.

I mope.

The gray has gotten into my bones. Aching from the inside out. The wet soaks my sandals and forces me to drag out my coats. I need them more for protection then warmth, so I suppose there's an upside.

I wait to see if the mud settles.

spring gloom

Missing your smile, your face, your laugh. Pensive and pointless is this pre spring sadness. All around me the world is contemplating green, while dripping gray and gloom nourish the soil the rain does nothing to nourish my soul.
So I find my smile in busy work. I fill my days with reading, learning, devouring knowledge. I fill my pretty little head with words. Until the day breaks, and sun bakes this damp dry I wait. Quiet. Waiting for the sunshine.

Go.

There is something so wonderful about a good drive. I intentionally drove the "long" way up to Rocklin. I took the "fast" way back. The rain came in sheets of sudden splashes and bits and starts. The hills rose and fell around me. The road curved in delightful ways under my wheels. I could drive roads like that for ever. Ever changing, scenery popping up at the sides, sudden surprises of beauty. Music up loud. Mind gone to peace and bliss with "go"

So beautiful

(NOTE to those reading into this. This is NOT a cry for help or a hint that I'm actually leaving. I'm just having a "Day" a funk. This is how I work through these. Don't like it? Don't read. Just fuck off. As I've said before, this blog is for ME! This is a place I put some of my excess shit. )

You are so fucking beautiful.

It's never been fair. I know. I know. It means more to me. I know. I know. So I shut up. I dream. Inside an alternate reality somewhere I keep a version of you. Right there with all the other people I love. It's okay. I know. I know. Not mine. Not ever. I belong to no one. I belong to everyone. I belong to him.

I'd run. I'd go. But there is no where to run to. No where to go.  I'd miss everything left behind. And I can't get away from myself no matter how far I go.

There is a Lady in Tennessee. I would go to her. I'd hold out my empty hands and offer her myself. She'd take me. She loves me. I love her. But I don't. I don't. There's a girl in Kentucky. I'd gladly hold out my empty hands. She'd take them and tie them and we'd keep each other very warm indeed. We'd slip together into madness and debauchery. She wants me. I want her. But I don't. I don't. There's a man.. there are many men. I'd go to him and hold out my hands... and he' take them and seal me into another contract. Another promise I just don't want to keep. I won't. I won't.

Those are dreams. Moments. Things that won't be that can't be.

I am content. Not joyous or fulfilled, but content. My distress is my own doing. My disillusionment is my own doing. My problems are of my own making. So I make the best. It is not a bad situation. I love my man. I take care of the one I love. I take care of the one I'm with. I am loved. I am taken care of.
Just because I want to flee. I want to run... I don't. I don't.

Freedom is a beautiful dream. Freedom is an impossible dream.

But you are so damn beautiful.  I remember what it is to wish again. I remember what it is to dream again. I remember what it is.. to live.

And I don't want you. And I don't need you. But I'd like to take you.. I'd like to steal you away. Because you make me remember. I ache. I sob. I pout and move foreword.

Because there's no going back and starting again. 

I don't.
I can't.
I won't.

But give me a few moments. Be my ray of sunshine. Be my light in this self formed darkness. Because, you are so beautiful. So. Damn. Beautiful.

cage act 2

(I'm going to beat my muse bloody today.. I apologize. )

Icarus fell.

I touched the sun.

He blazed and burned. He warmed my soft sweet heart.

He does every time. So many tiny suns in the sky. A night pinpointed with tiny suns. I want to touch them all. I want to be a light.

A quasar. A supernova. A comet. A story.

Instead I am a minor character. Supporting role. Backup spear carrier number three.

That girl with the crooked smile you knew one time. Here and gone. You miss her sometimes.

No more then a passing fancy am I. No burning bush. No life changing event.

Just a smile on a Tuesday afternoon.

Do I leave more then a trace? Is it worth it? All my struggle?

I want to be the main character in the story of my life, but even here I am support. Backup. Useful plot development, sure, but just support.

How do you become the star in your own story? How do you BURN!?!

Without your paste on feathers melting away in the first touch of truths harsh light..
How do I glow without loosing my spark?

Make me true. Make me real.

I don't want to be summers millionth dandelion, loosing my beauty helplessly into the breeze only to die away.

Big dreams, little hope.

I've been dreaming big dreams as of late.

Dreams of a home. Dreams of a mild sort of self sustainability. Dreams of bees, chickens, fresh fruit and vegetables. Dreams laced with the scent of tomato vines, fresh rich compost and setting my table with the work of my own hands.

We're looking at homes, and I find myself attracted to these huge plots. Some of them are acres large. One of them has 100 pistachio trees already on property. What do I know about growing anything other then children? Not one thing. I know if you put seeds in god dirt and give them water occasionally they can grow. I know that a tomato given an unlikely home (like the one that grew in the window well of our old house after a storm knocked the seedling over) will thrive and produce delightful tomatoes that make lovely soups and salads. I know that both my girls liked having a few plants to water.

And yet here I am considering an all out dive into the deep end of self sustainability. I'm doing in depth research on bee keeping, because I like honey. I like the happy sound of bees at work. I like pollinators for a garden. I dig bees. I'm not terrifically fond of being stung and can count on half a hand the number of times it's happened to me. I know I'm not allergic, but it still hurts. And yet here I am thinking about taking on my own little swarm of pets that is sure to inflict stings on me. How odd.

Here I am considering MADNESS!

And it makes me feel bone deep contentment. A certain kind of happiness that feels right. I don't know if I have much hope of getting these things all at once. I believe my husband would prefer something slightly more suburban for our family. And I suppose a closeness to other people would help turn my hermit ways into more social niceness.

And yet,

The idea of bees and happy clucking chickens. Of the smell of well loved earth. The idea of walking through my gardens and feeling that bone deep sense of right...

It is a nice big dream.

Where did I get off to?

 So it's been since very early spring since I posted. You see winter finally buggered off and it brought on the longest bit of hot summer weather folks around here have seen in some time. Almost all of july was hot. I'm talking 80 degrees, some days got all the way up to 90 hot. Folks sweat, folks moaned. I sat in the sun and blissed out so completely I almost forgot.

We got orders for our next move, and for a time I was ecstatic. We were going to San Antonio Texas. This is a place my husband and I dreamed of retiring to. This was a place with good schools and good houses and good... everything. And just when everything looked like it was going to be gravy and jam and sunshine and rainbows we were given a last minute diversion. My husband was allowed to pick from 6 bases (4 of which we were okay with but NONE were ones we really really wanted) which was to be our new new home. I cried. I moaned. The girls cried. The husband bitched and groaned. And now we're going instead to a teeny tiny base out in the middle of no mans land in upstate California. Beale. Because his job will be "easier" there. Not because it'd be good for the rest of us. Nope. He just is tired of shagging ass every day and if he has to work somewhere that's not his dream he'd rather not work himself to death.

I have to respect that. I wanted one of the Carolinas or Georgia (closer to places I know and like) but the job there would be similar to the job here and he's exhausted with the job here. So, California it is.

To say I'm... less then pleased is overstating the thing.

Regardless. The saying goes "Bloom where you're planted" and while I may well refuse to bloom, since I'm a delicate fucking flower and prone to whining about everything, I shall adapt. I'm reasonably ok at adapting.

My teenager has been acting like a typical teenage girl. She found a boyfriend. She's had a few boyfriends now, and a girlfriend or two. Thus far her relationships have been perfectly acceptable. However she got herself caught up in a romance with a 19 (or is he 20?.. Regardless he's pretty much a kid too) year old enlisted boy. The military kind of looks down on underage (Even though she's 17, she's still underage!) Folks with their above legal age air people. So we had to break up the relationship with much fighting and drama from the teenager who accused us, the military, and me in particular of many awful things. Mostly, she cried.

Again, it's underestimating things to say that too distressed me a bit.

I'm overwhelmed. Quite at the end of my rope. If "god only gives you what he thinks you can handle" well then God is an ass and I don't like him much at the moment. It's rather a good thing I prefer to be an agnostic or my faith would be taking a bit of a blow with the latest developments.

All our nice warm weather blew away a couple weeks ago. I've been too busy fretting over changes and the move and the teenager to be bothered by the sudden drop in sunshine per day.

My sleep schedule is a hot mess, my hair is thinning, and I've been rather unwell feeling all due to stress. Kind of wish I had somehow managed to pick up a friend somewhere along the way just so I'd have someone to whine at about all this. The hubs isn't much of a sounding board since he's going through just as much if not more stress and frustration too.

I have a couple of buddies in Sacramento and Napa Vally so at least I'm not venturing into the unknown. And I'm really trying to locate and appreciate the bright side of the move. Right now I kind of just want it over and done with. I am partially anxious that they'll change things all over again. There's still a Month that they can screw us over in, after all. And I REFUSE to get excited until I'm fucking there. Then I can try to fall in love with my new location.

Mostly I'm mad. I'm mad that we lost San Antonio. It was a beautiful dream, and nearly a beautiful reality. I'm mad that of all the relationships my teenager could choose to get tangled in she choose one that would cause maximum drama and strife. I'm mad that I'm not coping better with things that are naturally occurring parts of life.

I'm mad as hell right now and I have nowhere to go and vent out my rage and frustration.

So I'm here instead. Blogging on my FAR underused blog. Writing into the ether of nothingness that is the internet and wondering if anyone even hears me.

I'm breaking up with you, winter.

Look winter. I wrote this beautiful moving piece some time ago about my last first snow. And I get it. You were moved. I'm a deep chick. I sometimes know how to flatter a body. But, damn it winter. It's spring now, I reset my clocks. I see tulips doing their best to stay above ground. It's bloody well time to pack it in, and take your drunk ass home. It's nothing personal, winter. You can come back next year and bluster and blow and make me turn up the collar of my coat. Because, honestly, buddy I' pretty sure that unless we get Florida or Arizona where we go next we're gonna see each other again.

I think snow is really very pretty, little dancing fairy flakes. I think ice is neat and nifty. But, seriously? Dude.  Go home. As it is you are going to have the mother of all hangovers after this binge. Take a few aspirins, eat something, and get some well deserved rest. It's time, Winter. It's time to go now.

Love (but really I'd love you more if you left)

~Amber

And a new year

New years even in a German town is delightful! We've been somewhere else, both of our other years here. We went to Paris, our first year. We drove out to Edelweiss lodge, and slept through midnight our second. Both years were excellent and awesome.

This year is our tenth year of marriage. This year we wanted to stay up late, we wanted to see fireworks over the river. We drove out to Bernkastle-Kues. We'd originally planned to go to Koln, but the three hour drive past midnight sounded exhausting  Berkastle is a tiny sweet little wine trail town that we've both fallen head over heels in love with. I've never seen new years fireworks in Germany. I didn't know a thing about them.

I only recently discovered, they're fucking FANTASTIC! Apparently sales of anything bigger then a sparkler is limited most of the rest of the year. But right around new years the stores carry them en mass at decent prices. the locals seem to LOVE them.

Oh and do they.

I can't even begin to describe the insane fun of a bunch of Drunken gleeful Germans suddenly armed with fireworks. Bottle rockets, Roman candles, sparklers, some weird awful smelling can of colored smoke. Everywhere all around us as the night progressed there were sudden random instances of someone setting off their fireworks soon. The instances increased until, at last, midnight. The sound of cheering and booming and everywhere, every way you looked sparkling ad shining and booming were fireworks.

Oh goodness I laughed for a good solid twenty minutes.

We were occasionally frightened we'd get hurt, but no one seemed to be badly injured near us. Just jolly drunken laughing hugging and celebrating Germans everywhere.

This is my new favorite thing. and it was a magnificent way to ring in the new year and celebrate 10 years married to my best friend.

Halfway through the dark.

We're just a few days shy of December 21st (Winter solstice)

I'm sorry. I don't believe it'll be the end of the world, just the darkest day of the year. After this one the sun will hang around a little longer.

we've had three days of rain, and after the last two weeks of (admittedly beautiful) snow, the warm (in comparison) weather and drizzle are welcome. We can drive again! I got to go to my favorite Christmas market and just soak up the local flair.

I'm telling ya kids, you want to go anywhere this time of year and see what the season should look like, come to Germany and hit some of the smaller township Christmas markets. The big ones are cool, but it's cute little river side towns, full of picturesque buildings, windy cobblestone roads, the smell of spiced wine, spiced nuts, and currywurst that'll do you in. That and there's a High percentage of men who accidentally look like Santa. Jolly men with red cheeks, white hair, and big booming laughs jostle for space in gluvine booths with everyone else.

It's glorious and it's almost over. The giddy glowing part of the season. One of my favorite times to visit towns and browse. But we're almost halfway through the dark. Just a few (too many) more months of cold and ick and then the buds will be back, the blush of spring.

Winter came (absolutely everywhere, and messily too!) and I'll be happy to see it go.

But I'll miss my Christmas markets. The dizzying smell of curry ketchup and fresh fried potato. spiced wine and giddy drunken Europeans that aren't shy about people watching right along side of me. Red cheeks and flashing teeth. Music on every corner, and winds that bite, but don't bite quite so hard now that there's a bit of Christmas spirit in the air. 

Oh, Monday.

Last day of my program today. We get weighed, measured, and worked out. From here on in I'm self motivated. 

I hope I can do this. The thickening layer of snow outside wants to argue with me that I can not. It's far too yucky out there to drive anywhere, right? It's far easier to do a little indoor attempt and pretend. But, mister snow, I say no.  I can do this. I can keep going. Even if I have to go in the extremely early mornings with my husband. If I have to go during the dinner hour to the yoga classes, if I have to carve out an hour and FORCE my stubborn soft bottom into the car, drive to the gym and throw myself at a tread mill.

I can do this. I will do this. I still have fat to shed. I still have muscle to gain. I still have something to prove. I will do this.

Gross piles of (god, it's pretty) snow or not. I shall. I'll get myself snow gloves, layer up and go play in it. I'll...

Right now I can feel that bitter dark part of me shaking it's metaphorical head in negation. I can feel the tug of the heavy gray clouds laden with snow and *weather. 

Right now I'm arguing with myself. there's a little child inside of me who grew up dreaming of white Christmases. There's a girl who wanted to make snow men. Who wanted to cut out snow flakes from paper and post them in frosted windows. There's a child who wondered what it felt like to catch a snow flake on her tongue. She's being held down by the bully in me. That stubborn itch who likes nothing more then grumping about everything scowling Scrooge like at the world and sarcastically mocking that inner child.

I WANT to let the kid win this round. I want to be enchanted and amazed.   Let's give that kid a chance. 

*"weather" must be said by drawing the word out like it smells of wee. Weather is not just climatic changes, it's everything that is horrible and gross and unsavory about the stuff that is NOT sunshine. 

on Last Firsts

It snowed yesterday.

I woke up, walked downstairs, mixed my coffee and gawped at the front window for what seemed like forever. It shouldn't have been a surprise  It was scheduled to snow both days this weekend, and it only snowed a little the night before last and a bit in the morning. I gaped because it was beautiful. My little slice of the world covered in white. I shivered in my skin thinking that within a few hours my family and I would be out walking in it. Mostly I stared, with big hungry eyes.

It was my last first German snowfall, at least for a VERY long time. Unless it gets unseasonably cold next year in early October next year, this is it. We'll be moving before next winter. Hopefully, we'll be reassigned to somewhere temperate. This. Beautiful deep, soft, blanket outside my window is the last one I'll be seeing out here in Germany.

There will be many more this winter. I have a feeling we're looking at a white winter. And, although I go along with my snow fearing husband and cranky teenager in pretending that I hate it, I don't. Just between you, me, and the internet I think snow is freaking magic. Oh it's COLD. And I'm no fan of cold. It's icky when it melts into slush puddles that have the consistency of the nastiest margarita mix EVER.

The snow itself? Pretty. I plan to get water resistant mittens so I can make a snow man next time.

But,
Don't tell my family. With the exception of our amazing little changeling child, the Ella monster, who likes what she likes regardless of popular opinion, my family is full of snow haters.

so.
sshhh!

meh

I'm having little mini emotional break downs on a semi regular basis.  I'm sad, due to the weather. I'm grumpy due to my emotional teenager taking out her angst on me and the rest of the family. I'm lonesome due to not having any real friends. I'm upset with myself over not loosing more then a pound over the series of this month.

I'm okay with the slow weight loss, I feel good about what I've done. I'm glad the program is almost over, because I'm ready to find something that works better for me.

My husband and I are trying to plan out our trip to celebrate 10 years of marriage. It's tedious at times, since we have yet to settle on a plan. I *think*  we're going to try to go out to Orlando, the shades of green resort.

I'm frustrated, because I REALLY want to get out of here, and we still have a little under a year before we can leave. There is nothing enchanting about November in Germany. It's foul, gray, foggy, wet, ugly, cold, and uninviting. The Christmas market just started or will be starting soon. The weekend trips to the markets will help relieve some of my stress and grumption over the weather.

We had a decent small family Thanksgiving. I made a turkey good enough that even my teenager, who claims to HATE turkey thought it was yummy. She also liked my two days later turkey soup. I still look forward to returning to the states so we can have a pleasant BIG family gathering.

Anyway, I'm tired. I'm worn. I'm hoping that the ever present cloud cover lifts for a few days, but I truly doubt that it will. I just will wait. I'll keep trying to get in shape. And I plan to keep writing here. I may not have more then one or two followers, but this is MY blog. This is as good a place as any to document my small petty shallow little life.

Give me patience. Give me faith. Give me hope.

To move on to tomorrow and tomorrows tomorrow.

eating right.

I had an appointment with a nutritionist today. I was all nervous. Especially after Trainer Jen had given me a bit of grief over my eating habits. BUT! Nutritionist guy says: I'm right where I should be, maybe add a bit more protein. However! YAY!!! I'm right where I should be. Someone give me a high five. I'm a good girl!!


*bounces*

And next week I consult a lady who will help me plan out a better exercise regime. OMG. I'm, like, a healthy person.

No weight loss yet. I'm sloooooow. But I feel good. I'm a happy camper. I feel like this is the right path for me to follow to get to a healthy weight.

Today is another day of exercise. I'm liking trainer Jen, this jump start is exactly what I needed.

I'm sucking at word count, but as before predicted I knew I wouldn't make any kind of word count. I'm proud of myself for keeping track of this new start.

food rant.

Dear personal trainer Jen.

YOU, madam, are awesome. You really are. You're inspiring and pretty and talented. You push me to push me. You push me to NOT hurt myself. This is awesome. I KNOW you are well educated when it comes to fitness and exercise  I know you are educated about health. This is not concerning that.

You are NOT educated on my food needs. I share my food diary with you for my own reasons more then your comments. Your Friday comments make me rant and grump.

I do try to eat healthy. I am aware there's a slightly higher amount of sodium then most people eat. I KNOW this is not healthy. I KNOW I eat a lot of processed foods. Now, on the processed foods, this is because I have difficulty making the kinds of foods I can eat easily. I don;'t have tome to cook down veggies grains and meats into a product that pleases my stomach enough that I can keep it down. My little pouch is a picky bitch. I can't seem to properly help you understand that. So, we're both going to have to deal with the high level of processed "unnatural" foods I eat to live.

I think I eat pretty well. I eat proteins  veggies, fruits, and grain. I DO enjoy crackers. I LOVE cheese. Cheese is just about a perfect food for me. My tummy doesn't like "solid" veggies. Boiling them down takes out a lot of the good stuff, but it works when I do it. But, Jen, madam. I do what I must to survive another day.

She has referred me to a dietitian who has some experience with people who are post op RNY surgery. So! I'm scared (because I KNOW my vitamin levels aren't up to par) but I'm hoping his support will keep her off my back.

Anyway, after tomorrow I'll know more about what I need to be doing to stay healthy and perhaps even get healthier. Wish me mucho luck! <3 p="p">

on being female, on being me.

Oh the agony.

Dear "Aunt Flo" Fuck you very much. Nature? You, madam, are a royal bitch.

I am quite through making children. There SHOULD be a way to tell my body "thank you very much, but you can shut the baby factory down now" But nooooooo.

I went to my gym session sore, bloated, cranky, crabby,
nauseous, and in general NOT wanting to. I went. I did three hundred exercises. Woot! My body is achy and sore. I'm a little more then a little uncomfortable in my body.

I needed the cardio. It was nice talking to my trainer about my food issues without being judged for them. I feel like I'm slowly surpassing my current body stopping points.

So, yay for me.

I'm defiantly suffering from the beginnings of seasonal effective disorder.  I feel the darkness encroaching. I'm gloomy and grumpy. I feel like picking fights and whining about how unloved I am.

I feel unappreciated and unwanted. I know, now, that these feelings are attached to my low levels of sunlight absorption combined with the lack of "nice" days

I want winter to go away, and it's not even officially here yet.

Ah well. At least, I'll be in shape to fight the cold.

On word count, gym clothes, and choosing a goal.

So. I was bad this weekend. I actually HAD a weekend. Instead of fussing over word count, I decided to focus on quality instead of quantity. I KNOW that the whole November writing challenge thing is supposed to make us focus on getting in word count. It's supposed to help us focus on writing as much as you can without feeling forced to write a "proper" story.

But you know what? Fuck that. I'm going to write because I choose to write. I'm going to write to document my month. I did my second Monday of work outs yesterday. I played with a bar bell for the first time EVER. There were big buff scary "gym boys" in the free weight room. I'm not a huge fan of big buff scary gym boys. They're  almost always loud, stinky, and generally rude. They also look at me, in my over weight out of shape weird bodied self with utter contempt. Boys. *sigh*

So, it was fun having the "protective" barrier of three other women with me in the free weight room while I played with the big boy toys. I'm a tiny bit sore today, but I'm feeling much more comfortable with going to the gym. I'm actually HOPING for cardio tomorrow.

Now, gym clothes. I love my yoga pants. I'm comfortable in yoga pants! I'm even okay with yoga pants. I've found a couple sports bras that I like, two of them in a shocking hue of hot pink that tickles my happy. It's the shirts. I've BEEN wearing my comfortable geeky shirts. However, as much as I adore my geek shirts they don't stretch and move right. I WOULD wear tank tops. Tank tops make my arms look disgusting. I can't do them. What I need is a shirt made of a breathable wicking material that covers my under arm area, my tummy, and moves with me. I may end up checking the male shirts, since all the ladies shirts in my local store seem to be designed to bare more flesh instead of less.

I'm not losing weight YET, but it's only been a week. I haven't gained any weight. I already feel better, I believe weight loss will come soon.

Fuck you, qunioa

Dear Quinoa,

I get that you are a complete grain. I understand that you are healthy and full of protein.

However,  one would be led to think you were made of magic gold yummy happy sauce if you go look at all the health food recipes cropping up. To be honest, Quinoa,  I don't like you. No matter how I soak you, brine you, steam you, bake you, or prepare you you taste bitter and nasty. Your texture is just "wrong" on my tongue.  I'd rather use a slightly lesser grain and add some protein somewhere else to make up for you, and your utter yuckiness


Oh but heaven forbid I say anything. "Qunioa is full of happy magic rainbow unicorns" The healthy food elitists say "Quinoa has more protein then a bucket full of salmon seamen!"

Well they can HAVE you. If no one ever re-pins another picture of your freaky ass on pintrest it'll be too soon,Quinoa. I think you're disgusting.

Can people make some recipes without you? I can't even find them anymore! Oooh this is supposed to be healthy, let's invite quinoa to the party. It'll funk everything up! BLUUUGH!

WHAT DID YOU DO? Did you brain wash these silly wheat grass guzzling bitches somehow?

I'm not a 5 star cook, by any means. I can make an egg, and a white sauce. I can steam, fry, and bake well enough to feed myself. But I can NOT improve you, quinoa. You are a bitter disgusting grain. I don't care how magical you are. I refuse to eat you.

In conclusion, FUCK you quinoa. Fuck you straight to the bowls and bowels of hell.

nothing..

Nothing, nothing tra la la. Nothing to see here. Carry on. Move forward  I have next to nothing to write.

I'm HUNGRY today.  The soreness of over stressed muscles isn't as bad. I didn't achieve much in productivity other then stick close to my diet. Well, I cleaned out my fridge, but it was disgusting. I need that thing to be clean so I can make with the healthy eating. I was way under my calorie count according to my calorie tracker, so I MAY allow myself one or two VERY small night time indulgences. I don't want to send my body into starvation mode, after all.

getting in word count makes me feel like I'm blathering. Let's see.


Instead let's talk about a tiny episode of cyber bullying my Daughter experienced recently.

For some back round. My teenage daughter is Brilliant. according to tests she's well above collage level when it comes to comprehension. When my kiddo gets something she GETS it. Her major challenge is a devastating curse of dyslexia and dysgraphia. When she puts things up on her face book page the spelling style brings to mind the I Can Haz Cheezeburger memes. She spells things phonetically, but when impassioned she gets as close to the word as she can and just runs with it. For anyone that doesn't KNOW my kid, it's a pain in the eyes to read.

Now, she's smart. She's impassioned. She was going on a rant about the over abundance of political misinformation that was running  rampant in her school. She wrote a smart sassy rant that pretty much stated her opinion. She STARTED it warning people it was a rant.

Some dumb ass who she'd allowed to be her face book friend told her she was stupid, her opinions were stupid and asked how anyone could take her seriously if she couldn't even spell. After she (and a large percentage of people who actually *know* her) attempted to correct him, he claimed she was doing it to be cute.

My smart, my brilliant, my amazing daughter said. To be cute? I'm already cute. I do this because I have no choice

That's my kid. It's amazing that she has a strong group of people who are willing to stand up and fight for her. It's amazing that she has enough will power to stand up and defend herself. THIS is the way all cyber bullying stories should end. With the bullied shaking their head in disappointment and the bully sulking off into the shadows tail firmly tucked between their legs.

I wish more kids were as fortunate as mine. MORE SO I wish there were more parents willing to teach their children that mindless comments CAN and DO hurt others. That words can be weapons, and should be handled with the same caution.

on skipped days

Well. I forgot a day. I can't say I didn't think about blogging yesterday. I simply.. didn't. I was sore and tired. My first workout was torture. I nearly blacked out. I'm the fattest girl out of four. I'm the most out of shape. I NEED to learn to pace myself. I need to prepare better today.

I was so sore that I didn't sleep through the night. So yesterday I awoke early, feeling dead. It was roughly 4 o'clock when I was dragged unwillingly out of bed by my sore aching body. It refused to allow me to sleep even a moment more. So. Up I was, if I wanted to be or not. It most certainly was not.

I made coffee. I made tea. I rubbed ointment into my aching muscles, and I read. I read and read and tried to ignore the screaming aching soreness of my body. I ate sensibly and tried not to think of the fact that every time I stood up my legs shrieked agony and protest. Right around noon I slept. I napped wrapped in a blanket. It was nice. I hurt slightly less when I woke up two hours later.

Today I go again. I ache. My legs still scream at me, but I feel better. I don't know how much I can do this afternoon. I am scared of hurting more than I did yesterday. I will prepare myself before the workout with proper eating and proper attire. I'm freezing my water bottle so my water will be cold enough to cool me from the inside.

I also need to cut back on my e-cig use. I think that less nicotine may help.

I've noticed that I don't have more then one sports bra, which I will correct this afternoon. My workout clothes seem to be yoga pants and a range of truly adorable tee shirts with the collars cut out. I HATE the texture of tee shirt collars.

So. I was a naughty half dead girl yesterday and avoided my blog. I Like my trainer. I like the other ladies in my class. And if it doesn't kill me it MAY well actually make me stronger. I'm just very very sore.

I have a few errands to run today. I got the teenager all updated on her shots.  The littler one will have to wait until the clinic gets in more shots for the younger set. I'm avoiding getting a flu shot, due to being very prone to getting sick when I get the shots.

This weekend will test my diet a bit. I'm going to allow myself the bit of weakness. We don't get to go out very often. Belgian chocolate may be my weakness, but as long as I eat honestly and consecutively I can allow myself a little.

Now I know a lot of people are all about politics today. I DO care about the state of the country that I will returning to tomorrow, but I REFUSE to get into my personal political views. My Mom, Dad, Sister, and Brother in law are all VERY very very conservative. I'm... less so. I love them enough to not want to offend people like them by going into my slightly less conservative political views.

Religion is still potential, as none of them are deep true believers, and few people I care to meet are. So! I may yet get all metaphysical, spiritual, and giddy goofy about my messed up set of religious theologies. I know my papers in Theology class were well enough argued to impress my teacher and earn me excellent grades.

Now. I need to go run errands. So despite my pitiful word count. I accept that I have done my best.


~ Part two~

It's now evening. I wrote the previous bit in the morning. The work out wasn't as bad. Oh it was BAD but it wasn't AS bad. I am still sore and ache. I still hurt in fun new places. However, this time I was smart enough to go outside when I felt myself over heating. I WILL push myself. I WILL do my best and get my moneys worth. But I refuse to get to that "feeling like I'm going to pass out" point. There was a "fun" exercise that led me to cursing. We sat against a wall as if we were sitting on a chair. except that where the seat of the char would be there was just air and the muscles of leg and thigh to hold up the weight. I had to stand up and break each time. I really pushed that one!

Doing push ups I built up a serious hard level of sweat. I swear I was pouring buckets out of my pores. I can't do very good push ups, but I did my best. And I pushed SOMETHING. I pushed so hard that sweat leaked out of every available pore.

So. I feel better about the work out. I'm confident that I can continue this until it's end. I think it'll help with my weight loss too.