bide

When I talked to Adam last night, he told me that the job had been pulled off -- not a complete disaster, but still cutting it close. He said my mother had called him to give her support; that was cute. He was with Bane; Hi, Bane!

Mom and I wound up in an interesting conversation about my childhood and my personality, after discussing my medical conditions. Mom still believes most of my physical pain and fatigue issues are due to my allowing stress to overwhelm me (that's honestly not it; wouldn't it be nice if it were that). I tried not to bristle, because for many people, that sort of thinking leads to "It's all being exacerbated in your mind and by your thinking; so part of it is technically your fault." She made some very good points, but I still don't believe that the majority of my afflictions are nearly illusory and could be simply controlled and almost cured if I "just relaxed." I keep meaning to send her stuff on the harsh reality of anorexia and how most sufferers really don't have much choice, how their thoughts are influenced by outside compulsions; but I keep forgetting. I don't want to argue. I love her dearly, more than almost anyone, and arguing with her just makes me more upset.

Fuck, I hurt. All the muscle groups in my body are burning.
Flare.

bide

When I talked to Adam last night, he told me that the job had been pulled off -- not a complete disaster, but still cutting it close. He said my mother had called him to give her support; that was cute. He was with Bane; Hi, Bane!

Mom and I wound up in an interesting conversation about my childhood and my personality, after discussing my medical conditions. Mom still believes most of my physical pain and fatigue issues are due to my allowing stress to overwhelm me (that's honestly not it; wouldn't it be nice if it were that). I tried not to bristle, because for many people, that sort of thinking leads to "It's all being exacerbated in your mind and by your thinking; so part of it is technically your fault." She made some very good points, but I still don't believe that the majority of my afflictions are nearly illusory and could be simply controlled and almost cured if I "just relaxed." I keep meaning to send her stuff on the harsh reality of anorexia and how most sufferers really don't have much choice, how their thoughts are influenced by outside compulsions; but I keep forgetting. I don't want to argue. I love her dearly, more than almost anyone, and arguing with her just makes me more upset.

Fuck, I hurt. All the muscle groups in my body are burning.
Flare.

bide

When I talked to Adam last night, he told me that the job had been pulled off -- not a complete disaster, but still cutting it close. He said my mother had called him to give her support; that was cute. He was with Bane; Hi, Bane!

Mom and I wound up in an interesting conversation about my childhood and my personality, after discussing my medical conditions. Mom still believes most of my physical pain and fatigue issues are due to my allowing stress to overwhelm me (that's honestly not it; wouldn't it be nice if it were that). I tried not to bristle, because for many people, that sort of thinking leads to "It's all being exacerbated in your mind and by your thinking; so part of it is technically your fault." She made some very good points, but I still don't believe that the majority of my afflictions are nearly illusory and could be simply controlled and almost cured if I "just relaxed." I keep meaning to send her stuff on the harsh reality of anorexia and how most sufferers really don't have much choice, how their thoughts are influenced by outside compulsions; but I keep forgetting. I don't want to argue. I love her dearly, more than almost anyone, and arguing with her just makes me more upset.

Fuck, I hurt. All the muscle groups in my body are burning.
Flare.

let go

A fascinating conversation on the train.
The woman sitting next to me looked at my engagement ring and said, "How pretty. It looks like an Ouroboros."
Surprised, I smiled. "Thank you," I said. "I hadn't thought about it like that."
The ring is rose gold, with the center diamond, a round cut brilliant, in a very low bezel setting of white gold. On each side are three tiny round diamonds with a pave setting etched into the gold in between each gem.
She asked me how the proposal went, and about me and and my husband. I told her the whole story about the ring, which had her grinning and shaking her head. I had started with the Las Vegas hotel room and ended with the dinner table at his parents' house where I'd been living with him. I told her how Adam had found the silver original versions of the wedding rings which had been our promise rings, and how his uncle had copied them using green-gold electrum for the wedding rings themselves. I told her about the wedding.
After a minute of thought, the woman asked me, "Your future-mother-in-law offered to take you to Pennsylvania and her brother's jewelry shop, to pick out a different engagement ring. Do you ever regret not taking the offer when you had the chance?
Ah. She must have heard the tone in my voice when I talked about the giant heirloom diamond platinum ring.
"Yes, sometimes," I admitted. "Recently Adam said he would have given me something completely different if his mother hadn't beaten him to it. And I don't know why, but I've been thinking about that too much."
"From what I gather, just from all this," my companion said slowly, "you're still slightly bitter because his mother seemed to take so much control away from the two of you regarding wedding preparations, but especially starting with her giving Adam that big ring instead of him giving you one of his own choice. And you wish you'd had the presence of mind and the assertiveness to request that chance for a different ring, mainly because you believe a proposal shouldn't have to involve such a tangible push from an overbearing parent. You honestly regret being so introverted and shy and too eager to please, at that one moment at the dinner table. And even when you had your mom's jeweler friend put some of the diamonds into this band here so you could have your own personal ring, you still wished you had spoken up back then."
I blinked, speechless. "Wow. You're good. You're not a psychologist, are you?"
She smiled. "My mother was."
I nodded. "Ahhh, okay."
"My name is Lisa, by the way," she said, and I told her my name and we shook hands. "You've obviously been carrying this around in your subconscious for a while," she added. "Maybe you should talk about it to your husband. I know that won't change much, but it'll give you piece of mind." She looked at the ring again. "It really is unique. Besides, I'm not big on prong-setting solitare stones anyway."
I laughed a little. "Thanks, Lisa, I really appreciate this. I was starting to think I was being petty and whiny."
She laughed too. "Nah, not at all. These things do matter. And it's not like you've been bitching and complaining constantly. I'd say you're handling it really well. You may just need to get some things off your chest just to let it go."
I nodded. "I need to remind myself that I still got what I wanted, which was a life with the man I love, regardless of how it happened."
Lisa grinned. "There you go."
We were quiet for a few more stops, and then as the train began to slow down at a station, she stood up. "This is my stop. I'm glad we talked."
"Me too," I smiled.
"I might see you around, you never know. Take care, Joanna."
"Thanks, Lisa."
I got off at my own stop a couple of stations later, feeling much lighter.

(Note: While I remember the conversation, the transcript may not be completely word for word. But that was the gist of it. She really was a sweet lady)

let go

A fascinating conversation on the train.
The woman sitting next to me looked at my engagement ring and said, "How pretty. It looks like an Ouroboros."
Surprised, I smiled. "Thank you," I said. "I hadn't thought about it like that."
The ring is rose gold, with the center diamond, a round cut brilliant, in a very low bezel setting of white gold. On each side are three tiny round diamonds with a pave setting etched into the gold in between each gem.
She asked me how the proposal went, and about me and and my husband. I told her the whole story about the ring, which had her grinning and shaking her head. I had started with the Las Vegas hotel room and ended with the dinner table at his parents' house where I'd been living with him. I told her how Adam had found the silver original versions of the wedding rings which had been our promise rings, and how his uncle had copied them using green-gold electrum for the wedding rings themselves. I told her about the wedding.
After a minute of thought, the woman asked me, "Your future-mother-in-law offered to take you to Pennsylvania and her brother's jewelry shop, to pick out a different engagement ring. Do you ever regret not taking the offer when you had the chance?
Ah. She must have heard the tone in my voice when I talked about the giant heirloom diamond platinum ring.
"Yes, sometimes," I admitted. "Recently Adam said he would have given me something completely different if his mother hadn't beaten him to it. And I don't know why, but I've been thinking about that too much."
"From what I gather, just from all this," my companion said slowly, "you're still slightly bitter because his mother seemed to take so much control away from the two of you regarding wedding preparations, but especially starting with her giving Adam that big ring instead of him giving you one of his own choice. And you wish you'd had the presence of mind and the assertiveness to request that chance for a different ring, mainly because you believe a proposal shouldn't have to involve such a tangible push from an overbearing parent. You honestly regret being so introverted and shy and too eager to please, at that one moment at the dinner table. And even when you had your mom's jeweler friend put some of the diamonds into this band here so you could have your own personal ring, you still wished you had spoken up back then."
I blinked, speechless. "Wow. You're good. You're not a psychologist, are you?"
She smiled. "My mother was."
I nodded. "Ahhh, okay."
"My name is Lisa, by the way," she said, and I told her my name and we shook hands. "You've obviously been carrying this around in your subconscious for a while," she added. "Maybe you should talk about it to your husband. I know that won't change much, but it'll give you piece of mind." She looked at the ring again. "It really is unique. Besides, I'm not big on prong-setting solitare stones anyway."
I laughed a little. "Thanks, Lisa, I really appreciate this. I was starting to think I was being petty and whiny."
She laughed too. "Nah, not at all. These things do matter. And it's not like you've been bitching and complaining constantly. I'd say you're handling it really well. You may just need to get some things off your chest just to let it go."
I nodded. "I need to remind myself that I still got what I wanted, which was a life with the man I love, regardless of how it happened."
Lisa grinned. "There you go."
We were quiet for a few more stops, and then as the train began to slow down at a station, she stood up. "This is my stop. I'm glad we talked."
"Me too," I smiled.
"I might see you around, you never know. Take care, Joanna."
"Thanks, Lisa."
I got off at my own stop a couple of stations later, feeling much lighter.

(Note: While I remember the conversation, the transcript may not be completely word for word. But that was the gist of it. She really was a sweet lady)

let go

A fascinating conversation on the train.
The woman sitting next to me looked at my engagement ring and said, "How pretty. It looks like an Ouroboros."
Surprised, I smiled. "Thank you," I said. "I hadn't thought about it like that."
The ring is rose gold, with the center diamond, a round cut brilliant, in a very low bezel setting of white gold. On each side are three tiny round diamonds with a pave setting etched into the gold in between each gem.
She asked me how the proposal went, and about me and and my husband. I told her the whole story about the ring, which had her grinning and shaking her head. I had started with the Las Vegas hotel room and ended with the dinner table at his parents' house where I'd been living with him. I told her how Adam had found the silver original versions of the wedding rings which had been our promise rings, and how his uncle had copied them using green-gold electrum for the wedding rings themselves. I told her about the wedding.
After a minute of thought, the woman asked me, "Your future-mother-in-law offered to take you to Pennsylvania and her brother's jewelry shop, to pick out a different engagement ring. Do you ever regret not taking the offer when you had the chance?
Ah. She must have heard the tone in my voice when I talked about the giant heirloom diamond platinum ring.
"Yes, sometimes," I admitted. "Recently Adam said he would have given me something completely different if his mother hadn't beaten him to it. And I don't know why, but I've been thinking about that too much."
"From what I gather, just from all this," my companion said slowly, "you're still slightly bitter because his mother seemed to take so much control away from the two of you regarding wedding preparations, but especially starting with her giving Adam that big ring instead of him giving you one of his own choice. And you wish you'd had the presence of mind and the assertiveness to request that chance for a different ring, mainly because you believe a proposal shouldn't have to involve such a tangible push from an overbearing parent. You honestly regret being so introverted and shy and too eager to please, at that one moment at the dinner table. And even when you had your mom's jeweler friend put some of the diamonds into this band here so you could have your own personal ring, you still wished you had spoken up back then."
I blinked, speechless. "Wow. You're good. You're not a psychologist, are you?"
She smiled. "My mother was."
I nodded. "Ahhh, okay."
"My name is Lisa, by the way," she said, and I told her my name and we shook hands. "You've obviously been carrying this around in your subconscious for a while," she added. "Maybe you should talk about it to your husband. I know that won't change much, but it'll give you piece of mind." She looked at the ring again. "It really is unique. Besides, I'm not big on prong-setting solitare stones anyway."
I laughed a little. "Thanks, Lisa, I really appreciate this. I was starting to think I was being petty and whiny."
She laughed too. "Nah, not at all. These things do matter. And it's not like you've been bitching and complaining constantly. I'd say you're handling it really well. You may just need to get some things off your chest just to let it go."
I nodded. "I need to remind myself that I still got what I wanted, which was a life with the man I love, regardless of how it happened."
Lisa grinned. "There you go."
We were quiet for a few more stops, and then as the train began to slow down at a station, she stood up. "This is my stop. I'm glad we talked."
"Me too," I smiled.
"I might see you around, you never know. Take care, Joanna."
"Thanks, Lisa."
I got off at my own stop a couple of stations later, feeling much lighter.

(Note: While I remember the conversation, the transcript may not be completely word for word. But that was the gist of it. She really was a sweet lady)

This is full of "Yay, smart weatherpeople"-ness

http://www.weather.com/activities/health/achesandpains/

This is full of "Yay, smart weatherpeople"-ness

http://www.weather.com/activities/health/achesandpains/

This is full of "Yay, smart weatherpeople"-ness

http://www.weather.com/activities/health/achesandpains/

Goji vs Acai

http://www.berrydoctor.com/broadcast/2006/AcaivsGojiORAC.htm

I prefer Goji anyway. I just wish it were more readily available, as Acai is, in juices and smoothies. I can find Acai beverages pretty much anywhere, but Goji beverages seem to exist mostly online so far. Smoothie King makes an Acai smoothie, of course. Snoothie King also makes a Goji smoothie, but unfortunately it contains kiwi fruit, to which I am very allergic, and they can't separate the kiwi from the rest of the formula. So, no goji smoothie for me, unless another company makes it.
The goji capsules I take are very concentrated; I'm still trying to research whether or not the encapsulated powder form is better than the concentrated juice form.

Goji vs Acai

http://www.berrydoctor.com/broadcast/2006/AcaivsGojiORAC.htm

I prefer Goji anyway. I just wish it were more readily available, as Acai is, in juices and smoothies. I can find Acai beverages pretty much anywhere, but Goji beverages seem to exist mostly online so far. Smoothie King makes an Acai smoothie, of course. Snoothie King also makes a Goji smoothie, but unfortunately it contains kiwi fruit, to which I am very allergic, and they can't separate the kiwi from the rest of the formula. So, no goji smoothie for me, unless another company makes it.
The goji capsules I take are very concentrated; I'm still trying to research whether or not the encapsulated powder form is better than the concentrated juice form.

Goji vs Acai

http://www.berrydoctor.com/broadcast/2006/AcaivsGojiORAC.htm

I prefer Goji anyway. I just wish it were more readily available, as Acai is, in juices and smoothies. I can find Acai beverages pretty much anywhere, but Goji beverages seem to exist mostly online so far. Smoothie King makes an Acai smoothie, of course. Snoothie King also makes a Goji smoothie, but unfortunately it contains kiwi fruit, to which I am very allergic, and they can't separate the kiwi from the rest of the formula. So, no goji smoothie for me, unless another company makes it.
The goji capsules I take are very concentrated; I'm still trying to research whether or not the encapsulated powder form is better than the concentrated juice form.