16 Days Sober

It has been 16 days since my last confession - oops... sorry, knee jerk reaction, wrong beginning. Let's start over.

It has been 16 days since my last dealings with sugar. And let me tell you, internet, it feels like a mother fucking eternity. This ridiculous scheme of mine all started back in January when I read this post by Finslippy about how she gave up sugar and how wonderful it made her feel and blahblah. At the time I worked at my adorable bakery (hi guys!) and spent most weekends and evenings sitting in bed with/missing claire eating our candy spoils from walgreens (mwahah! CANDY SPOILS!). I ate cookies and juji fruit and dots and sour twizzlers and sour air heads and skor bars [drooling noises inserted here]. You get the idea. And sometimes I would eat pastries from the bakery or the occasional oreo cakester from the grocery store. (Don't look at me!! I'm too ashamed!) And I LOVED it. But it also kind of made me feel gross and could (was already?) get out of hand at times. We call those times "binges".. er.. whatever.

Anyways - so I read this great article and claire read this great article about one woman's war on sugar and I think ahead to Lent (the happiest, most self deprecating time of the year) and I'm all "that's my goal... no sugar... and ... brushing twice a day". Dude, sometimes I'm already in bed and I'm just too tired to make it to the sink, ok?

Now then, the rules for me are different than the rules for claire and I'm sure are different than the rules for Finslippy but basically no sugar to me means no candy, no sweets of any kind, no fruit drinks, no sugar pops or gum, nothing ridiculously sugary like really bad for you cereals or yogurt that is low cal but sugar filled, etc. It's cutting all of the gratuitous shit out and making me think a little harder about what I'm eating. I know, I know... I recently wrote this post about how I've given up on sketchy meat and you must be thinking "how could she possibly think any harder?" What can I say? I'm cerebral. Ha.

And then I was watching this documentary (I know! I said I wasn't going to do that anymore!) about obesity and some doctor on there said the effects refined sugar has on the brain are similar cocaine or heroine. The more you eat the more you need, your need continues to grow and grow and grow in order to satisfy yourself.

16 days people. I crave candy every single day. And not like the "oh, that sounds delicious", but like the "I know it will make me feel better, Oooh it will make me feel SO GOOD just to have some sour patch kids... I know it will... mmm just one, i only really need one." Yeah. Crack is an understatement.

But i've held strong. And here are the benefits for me: Teeth are less gritty, my stomach has less issues, I feel good about my decisions and I feel more in control, weight loss, and believe it or not - I swear to god my hair is thicker, less stringy and shinier. Who knew?

All I can think about right now is that on Easter I'm gonna have the biggest Keebler Egg I can find. We'll see what happens between then and now.

Transition!

(Imagine the title being sung out fiddler style)

Now that that's been clarified... hello friends! Sorry I have been absent. There was the packing and the driving and then the deep breath taking and all of that took about a week. But here I am! In San Francisco! Again! It feels like yesterday! Because it practically was!

The drive started out bleak. Except for Kamel who was a ball of excitement.


He was such a trooper with packing up the car. He Tetris-ed the shit out of it. And my poor little car was weighed down with all my clothes, and most of my room accoutrement. We were victorious! But like I said day one was bleak:


I was sleepy and crabby and Kamel did most of the driving and all of the cheerleading because really? I was moving back? And leaving all my people? And heading into the unknown? And wait a second didn't I have time to slow down and take a breath? No. Push ahead, grab life by the horns and all that. Let's do this thing.

After a lovely night at the Shilo Inn and some surprising great small town food thanks to the recommendation of our amazing Shilo Inn front desk lady ... things began to look up.




The bleakness turned into sunshine turned into excitement at my do-over. I get a do-over at San Francisco. Not that my first try was bad. It was a huge learning experience, it was about getting my master's degree, about figuring out how to balance work and life and learning. It was really fucking hard.

So far I've been applying for more work, had an interview for a job I don't want, have had time to edit other peoples' work, trying to finish a book so I can start another, and will be continuing work on my next novel.


I know, right? I'll keep you posted.

Here I Am

I hate packing! And I hate moving! But I always seem to find myself in these positions. Boxes, dust, too much crap, will it all fit? But while I'm sneezing and boxing and doing laundry this song keeps playing in my head:



I'm gonna live and live now, get what I want - I know how.

Triple Letter Score

Wednesday night and the online scrabble is HOT! Competition is FIERCE! It's 9:15 and I am already TIRED!! YES! I am 24!! Believe it!

Hotel. Motel. Holiday Innnnnnn!

Kamel flew into Seattle on tuesday night (after waiting and waiting and waiting for him all day long with really nothing to do) for business: a conference hosted by microsoft called Gamefest. A nerd emporium! Except, unlike comic-con the fans were not made aware - an industry only thing. The thing is - it makes little difference when the people who make the games are also major fans themselves. Anyhoo - Kamel's company put him up at the Grand Hyatt downtown from tuesday - friday and I got to stay too! I went into this thinking Glamor! Room Service! Giant bed! Quicker commute to work! And it kind of was all that ... and more.

The more part was living out of a suitcase! Air conditioning that gave me migraines! The inconvenience of not having my own toiletries! Having the breakfast room service door tag slip off when we closed the door and shoot back into our rooms without us noticing until 10 minutes before I had to leave for work!

It definitely wasn't all anti-climactic and disappointing. There was a fabulous bathtub and a floor to ceiling window with a view of capital hill, the location was awesome when I wasn't exhausted from work, and of course there was a tv. So watching the Today Show as I woke up in the king sized bed was a reality.

But staying in a hotel in the city you work and live in? Turns out it's pretty lame. Your mind is all "HOTEL!!! WE'RE ON VACATION!!!" But then the reality is that ... actually no... you still have to work and when you get home all you want to do - regardless of being downtown in a fancy hotel - is watch tv and sleep. Which feels like a waste. And setting your alarm while staying in a hotel seems incredibly counter productive! This whole thing just makes you MORE tired because your are having to constantly fight with the gap between reality and expectation. "This will be great!" turns into "But you still have to work!" turns into "And set your alarm!" clashes with "But we're in a hotel! Downtown! This FEELS like it should be vacation!" Crash, burn, lumpy pillows, lauren goes to work with migraine and then all she wants to do is nap.

But the bathtub was fabulous.

Valentines

Waking up next to Kamel with fog outside and rain still on the windows. After making me laugh so hard I have to cover my face with the comforter so as not to wake claire - something about a dream he had about his knee growing a belly button - we sit up in bed and surf the internet on separate laptops. His feet still in socks, keep my little naked ones warm. Our elbows touch. He sometimes steals kisses and tells me how lucky he is, how beautiful I am, how he loves my big hair in the morning. He laughs at the crumbs still on my sweatshirt from my plain waffle and then laughs more as I pick the crumbs off and eat them. I read mommy blogs and he researches building his own computer. He smells like trees and hair gel. I love the way his undershirt feels against my cheek.

I am lucky.

Happy Valentines.

Seattle to San Francisco and Back Again

Here is the news: I'm moving back to San Francisco. Some people - including grad school friends - were all "about time!" and other people were all "WHY?!" And here is my explanation... It all has to do with hindsight my friends. Hindsight is funny because in the moment it means nothing. When you are making decisions it is no where to be found it is only AFTER you've spent thousands moving, spent time and stress trying to re-establish yourself in a new apartment, different city, different job, that hindsight is all "dude, you messed that up."

I've never really made a mistake in the process of my life before. I look back on decisions I've made, things I've done and sometimes I think "If I were to do that over again this is what I'd do", but most things happen for a reason, and it all works out in the end, right? I guess in your early twenties those two cliches become a mantra. This time, though, I feel like I did make a mistake. It's not unfixable, it's not the end of the world, but I'm calling it how I see it.

Here's what happened: I wanted to take a break from scrambling for what I wanted, from filling out applications, from running the race. My last semester/year of grad school I was exhausted from working full time and going to school full time. Exhausted through every cell in my body. Eternally tired. You get the idea. So I decided to not fill out all those applications all over the country for composition professors and to move home, get a food service job and write. I wanted to focus on being a writer and publish. Well it didn't exactly work out that way. Writing didn't happen like I thought it would for various reasons (no desk, no space, no motivation, and again that tired thing), I ended up working long hours in a very physical way which made my days off about scrambling to get my life errands done and trying to work out a routine that took 6 months to only 1/2 figure out. Plus I was just becoming more and more broke with the threat of my expensive loan looming in the future. Future meaning due in March. Realizing that I needed to get a job that paid more I started hunting on craigslist, on company's websites, etc etc. Nothing I saw inspired me. I want to use my education, I want to do something I'm interested in, passionate about, something relevant to what I know and how I am. And the best I could do in seattle was an admin at an insurance company? To say the least there have been tears of frustration over this. There were very very few opportunities in the writing section of craigslist. Nothing really relevant. Blog from home? I already do that. Translate Japanese? No. So on a whim, just to see what other cities were like in this category, I checked out the writing section in San Francisco's craigslist. And the comparison had me floored. And mad at myself. Here is a side by side comparison:


Not only were there more jobs, they were relevant. Publishing, marketing, editing, the list goes on. I had a full on what the fuck have I done moment. Why wasn't I more patient after graduating? Why didn't I look around longer? I left a writing community, a support system of professors with connections, and apparently a wealth of job opportunities. So I'm moving back. I don't have all the answers and I'm lucky that I don't have children or real responsibilities so that I can make mistakes and fix them without a lot of repercussions. I'm moving without a job lined up - though I am applying all the time, and without a lot of money. But thankfully I have people there who will help me. And it's all an adventure, right? Take the plunge and see what happens. It's San Francisco - Take Two.