Saturday, 24 March 2012

• Homework, weight, shoes, nails, piercings

  Well, my marketing brand extension plan is still not turned in.  My goal was to have it turned in this morning before I went to work, but that hasn't happened.  Ok seriously though: NOT GOING TO SLEEP TONIGHT UNTIL THAT ASSIGNMENT IS DONE.  This will be the 3rd day that it's overdue, so even if I get a perfect score, I'll get an automatic dock for lateness.  Fucking ouch.  Plus now I'm behind in class significantly and if I don't get my shit together soon, there will be problems.

  Same is true for weight.  I'm going to start a new file folder on my computer for before and after pictures, and I'm going to do pics each Friday or Saturday and only weigh myself once a week.  We will see if that works.  On the one hand, daily weighing helps my motivation.  However, it also nurtures my sense of self-loathing.  When the number is higher than I thought it would be, it ruins my whole day.  Within a week of weighing myself daily, I get hooked on it.  Then I start gradually working in 2 daily weigh-ins, and the farther it goes, the more the evening one triggers that tiny little voice in the back of my brain that says, "You know, you could get rid of that last meal..."  No.  I will not let myself be a prisoner to numbers, and I will also not let myself be defined by what others see when they look at me.

  I am doing this for ME AND ME ONLY.  It will be my one selfish act.  Well, I guess I"m doing it for my fiance too because he deserves to have a happy, healthy, and sexy lady, which is what I will be.  I already am sometimes, but I want to be that way all the time.

  Quite frankly, the Xanga fat haters and the naysayers and the judgmental pricks of the world can kiss  my fucking ass.  I'm not doing this for you, so fuck off.  By judging me, you are only wasting your own brain power because it's not going to affect my game.  Piss off.

  It feels good to say that, because for a good share of my life, I put other people first.  I let other people's versions of me become my own version of myself.  Not anymore!  You could say I'm full of "piss and vinegar" (I love that expression).  I'm just tired of taking shit and I'm tired of being silent about really crappy things and crappy people.

  And now for some fun stuff.  I am currently kind of obsessed with 3 things: Jeffrey Campbell Lita boots, galaxy/space nails, and tongue piercings.  That last one will have to wait if I make the band tonight.  Can't be playing my clarinet while a tongue piercing heals.

  BUT...Litas.  I try to make a point of not being a label-whore, but there are 2 exceptions I will make to that rule: Victoria's Secret, and JC Litas.  Seriously, this summer I am going to treat myself to a pair.  They're worth saving up for.  Behold:

   

  ^^ There’s the basic black,

  Or the black velvet:

   

  mean, with these fuckers on I would be 6’3” or 6’4”.  NOBODY would mess with me.  And I would still not be taller than my man J

  And they come in so many colors and patterns that it makes me droooooool:

  I love this mustard gold.  Or as my dad would call it, “calf scour yellow” (10 points if you know what calf scours are):

   

   

  Galaxy:

   

  Sparkle:

   

  ^^ Check out her calf muscles.  Rawr!

   

   

   

  BUT THEN THERE IS THE ULTIMATE HOLY GRAIL:

  THE STUDDED ONES.

   

   

  I am pretty sure I had a small stroke the first time I saw these.  In freaking love.

  Is there anything more punk??

   

   

   

  Wait…there is.  THESE are more punk:

   

   

  Well…the fact that they are a designer label and the approximately $160 price tag is very un-punk.  But damn I want them.

   

  Okay, for something actually attainable: space fingernails!  Behold:

   

  

  I love these because they look like nebulae:

  

  

  This one even has a spiral galaxy on the thumbnail, how nerdy-cool! :

   

  

  And now on to tongue piercings.  I think they’re pretty hot.  Observe:

  

   

  -

  

  HOWEVER…there are a couple of moderately major issues:

  1.      I am on a medication that gives me pretty bad dry-mouth.

  2.      I am not terribly diligent about my oral hygiene, so I would HAVE TO overhaul those habits.

  3.      Even if I don’t make summer band, I do NOT want to run the risk of permanently fucking up the muscles in my tongue for clarinet-playing.

  So, I don't know.

  At any rate, I feel like I'm going to fall asleep soon, and I still have about 3 paragraphs to write.  PEACE OUT, EVERYBODY!!

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