Aine

Well, that totally sucked. Bad dialogue, weird character evolution, just the whole thing. And WHY did Rick have such a hard time beating the doc up?????

Not today, thanks.

12 lbs. gained from quitting smoking. Um, probably the Doritos caused the weight gain. Not the smoking. Haven't lost it, either, though I have been exercising more than I ever did when I smoked. However. . .walking briskly 3-4 miles a day will take a couple hundred calories off my daily intake. While, a single serving bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos contains 262 calories. At this rate, I need to start walking about 10 miles per day or cut back on the Doritos. Yeah.

Nicotine free is nicotine free. I don't agree that a more "solid foundation" is achieved by using aides. Or, by cold turkey. Seems subjective, to me. I liked what Marti mentioned today about vigilance. If there were one word to describe a "solid" quit, it would be that one.

Yeah, me Thanks to all of you here who helped me. I can't do it alone, that's for sure!

I am so not not not hardheaded

Not today.

I cut my vampire teeth on Anne Rice and her novels before she turned Christian. Yeah, vampires do not sparkle. I read about 70 pages of shades of gray and about gagged. Poor poor writing. Anne Rice wrote 20 years ago a novel called East of Eden , I believe, was the title. A well-written novel about S and M, with a female protagonist. Great stuff, and much more graphic than shades of gray. Just hate bad writing being passed off as good.

It's a "social" thing.

Not today.

further the story, as originally was planned. Alas, it failed .

However, the space time continuum had been distorted, and she

So, first day at yoga. Turns out it's the "silver streak" yoga class. Sneeringly, I took my place in the CHAIR that Kathy the instructor gave all of us. I had hoped to get a chair by the door, thinking to escape after a few minutes. A class with over 60 hip replacements was not my idea of a cardio workout. Kathy, her silver hair standing up oddly on the top of her head, looking a bit like a senile rooster, (yes, this does happen), said, "sit here- in the middle of the row." I protested, but she said, "nobody gets to leave until class is over." I looked to see if she was joking, but I could see no smile. After about 5 minutes, I was aware of muscles I had not even known existed. After20 minutes, it occurred to me that maybe I should wait another couple weeks to heal more from the bicycle accident. Ginger, the 82 year old next to me, said I was doing great for a beginner and everyone felt like that at first. She helped me put my chair back in the stack when class was over. They have another class Thursday.

Loved this. An Open Letter to the Fat Girl I Saw at Hot Yoga in New York City Joshilyn Jackson Dear Fat Girl I Saw at Hot Yoga in New York City, Perhaps I should call you OTHER fat girl at Hot Yoga, as I was there too, easing back into my Fat Down Dog, forward to Fat Plank, then melting and pushing up to Fat Cobra, etc etc, all the way through my big fat hot Vinyasa flow. (This should be a movie title---my Big Fat Hot Vinyasa Flow---I would SO go to see that.) Is it wrong that I am half in love with you? For being fat and at Hot Yoga? For shaving your legs and getting a GOOD pedicure and putting your big ol’ ass into the second largest pants that Lululemon, may her name be forever exalted, makes ? For unrolling your matt and claiming your space, a rounded duck standing defiantly on one squatty leg among flamingos. Were you as happy to see me as I was to see you? I think you were. You kept PEEKING at me, under your armpit and between your thighs, when you should have had been looking at your Drishti, only to find I had abandoned MY Drishti and was misaligning my spine to peek at you. We both tipped over out of tree because of it. But it was okay. We were a secret club of Fat Girls at Hot Yoga. We understood each other. I miss you, now that I am back home in Georgia. I am ALWAYS the only fat girl at Hot Yoga. I am sure it is exactly the same for you----You might think there would be more of us fat girls here in Quasi-Rural Georgia than in New York City. Well, okay. There are, actually, but I am the only one in CLASS. We sometimes have one girl who THINKS she is another Fat Girl at Hot Yoga. She is not, God bless her. She is only mentally ill. At my Hot Yoga here, all the regulars are very beautiful and sleek, like otter puppies. Yoga people. Honestly. They are long and loopy and bendable and glorious. I wish I was one, but I froth and churn and fail at cleanses. They seem so at peace with their physicalness, living inside bodies that look like loops of strong ribbon. Meanwhile, I am at war. I am at war with my body. Oh Fat Girl at Hot Yoga in New York, are you at war with yours, too? Has it let you down? Are you angry with it? I am. Righteously furious, actually. This stupid body that has failed me in so many ways these last two years. It has been endlessly sick. It has required surgery and bed rest and vicious medication that got me well, but made me feel sicker. I AM VERY ANGRY WITH IT for being sick, for getting fat, for not doing what I SAY. But I am nice to it anyway, three times a week, at Hot Yoga. Fat Girl, I saw you in New York, and I thought, GOOD FOR YOU. You are trying to find a way to be stronger, to live in yourself, to like your body enough to give it that seventy-five minutes of movement and acceptance. To just take care of the damn thing, even if you ARE mad at it. To treat it like an exasperating, ugly, ill-tempered little child---one you secretly adore. At the start? Every time? I set my intention and it is this: For the next 75 minutes, don’t look around, don’t compare, don’t list all the ways you are not good enough to be here, and don’t hate yourself. Just Breathe. Just Breathe. Just Breathe. Just be in your body and remember how good a place is it to be, really. For the first half of class, I remind myself that this body is not some shabby rental. It is home. No matter how mad I am, it is home. By the second half, I always come to understand that it is more than home. It is more than where I live. It is me. I am it. I remember my husband likes it. A lot. I remember it twice performed a function that was nothing short of miraculous, growing two exceptional babies entirely from scratch. My brain is a piece of it, and my brain is where the stories come from. This is what I get from Hot Yoga, Fat Girl. I am not sure what you get. I hope the same thing. I wish ALL the Fat Girls would come to Hot Yoga and get this, get these minutes where we forget ---if only for a little while--- that our value as people doesn’t go down when our pants sizes go up. And also? Selfishly? I DO wish at least one more would come, so I would have someone to peek at under my armpit, to give that little tip of the chin, that little nod. Fat Girl at Hot Yoga Solidarity, baby. We aren’t perfect, but we are HERE, in our second-to-largest size Lululemon pants, ducks among flamingos, trying to take care of ourselves. Namaste fricken DAY, The Fat Girl You Saw at Hot Yoga in New York City

Thank god. Thought I was seriously nuts.

I'm not smoking today!

I've been feeling the constant restlessness and anxiety in the evenings, particularly, since I quit smoking in February. I've used food as a replacement, but the 15 pound weight gain is the only thing I've gotten from that replacement therapy! Depression over the weight, a bicycle wreck that put me out of going to the YMCA for almost 6 months, another move, the selling of the farm and living in town now, husband's heart attack; a number of things have led to a total change in just about every area of my life. My mind is really craving comfort and stability, and I think that is why I'm just wanting to go back to smoking again. Ok. Maybe that was BS. I want to smoke because I want to smoke. I'm tired of fighting this "unease" with myself. I bought a vape cig last week; 0 nicotine, but the "habit" of inhaling steam is a red flag, I know. I wanted to replace the eating at night with ANYTHING legal and that wouldn't hurt me, but I think it was a mistake. It has calmed down the need to stuff calories in my face. I don't know. Just confused and tired of this. I don't want to smoke. Reasons why I quit: I don't want to hurt my son's health by smoking in the house. I don't want to have to constantly go outside to smoke. I don't want to feel trapped by the need to smoke constantly. I always felt it, except when I was smoking. I don't want to die of a smoking related illness. I don't want to die, period. lol! I don't want to spend money that I don't have anyway on my addiction. I will continue to want to NOT smoke even if I smoke. And I don't want to go through the physical withdrawal again. I don't want to smell like an ashtray. Knew I'd better post this. I can feel myself trying to talk myself into smoking again. Not today though! I want to feel comfortable in my skin without smoke. The YMCA is offering beginner's yoga 2 days a week. I'm going to start that tomorrow and work on some breathing and relaxation stuff. Hoping that will help with the restlessness. That has always been there. Thinking the smoking alleviated it is just shit I'm telling myself. Sigh. Someone tell me, again, that this is going to get better.

Seriously? Yeah!

I had to look poutine up. Egads. Hope you are doing well, Julie!

Elderberries stain, for sure. But. . .only if you slather them on your face. :-)

http://www.starwest-botanicals.com/category/bulk-herbs/ I grow mine. Plant an elderberry bush outside in the backyard. Needs no attention. Horehound and Marshmallow are both perennial herbs that require no attention and all come up every year. Love herbs. Very difficult to kill them. Plant once and you are good for many years! Just pick berries when they are purple and dry them, and cut herbs end of summer and hang up and brew tea when needed. They look cool hanging in your kitchen, too. lol!

Thank you. I wasted too much time staring at the post. . . .

Horehound, Marshmallow, elderberry tea. Buy the dried herbs and keep them handy for the winter gunk. Doesn't cure a cold, but shaves off about 50 percent of the downtime. Splash of honey and lemon works well in it for sweet and kick. also medicinal. Feel better soon.

Seriously, that's weird. :wacko2: ;)