Not Listening Today, Chaucer Teacher

Full fathom five thy father lies
We read again and again. It's haunting, barely intelligible outside of the ivory tower.  What should I do? I feel tempted to stray into intangibility, but that makes bad writing. I will not spell out my feelings in only words alone are seldom good.

Last night was hard for me. I am made of paradoxes.
Last night my heart beat fast in my chest. Do I enjoy this? Then I am a masochist.
Do I hate it? Then I cannot be enjoying life for that is painful joy and content banality, and should I chose the second then I am not living. Just existing.

My heart beat fast, regardless of my joy. It does now, and it's a light nauseating feeling. I am always pulsating with energy, sexual or sublimated, but always there if I am to feel anything. Last night I tried not to feel anything, but I have a weakness for this romantic sadness.

He laid his head on my chest.  I have another, don't I? This should not be acceptable. I feel guilt, even though I am not obligated to. I still feel obligated. He is a romantic soul. He is fallen, too, from the Eden of first love. I have yet to fall, yet here I am, encouraged by Adam with the apple in my mouth. And I want it, even while I am trying not to vomit.

What do I need to feel loved? I have attention, and I have someone who needs me and yet I do not know. Do I need this head on my should? An absent but simultaneously affectionate figure. That is the bittersweet ache I desire. Pay attention, but only long enough to leave a trace of mild interest. Talk to me about your other love, far away. I do not envy her. She does not have you, either. Hell has you. She is your lover, and this lonely freezing death is your constant companion. The leviathan has eaten you. You caress me as a shadow of what you were.

I am not bitter. I want to stand back.

Yesterday I went for a walk to Mordor, the CVS that Joe and I named in a drunken revelry. I am breaking my body. Last week I burnt my chest making bacon, and after that walked two miles in too small shoes. I needed anti-bacterial cream and bandages for less than attractive festering sores. Moving gives me the feeling of progress, of change.  It is a childish feeling of running away, and a thought that maybe, maybe this one time I won't be back. Instead, a life as a vagabond and doesn't that sound romantic? Who needs the rat race of college in Washington? It's got enough well-intentioned dolts.

I have had coffee and my facial twitches are starting. A trembling jaw, as though I am about to cry. A fist clenched because I want to lash out. No, wait, because I want to see the half-moon marks of red. The coffee made me feel sick this morning. I always know exactly what I have eaten. One waffle, a tablespoon of syrup. Dip, because it's easier and uses less syrup. Then the coffee. Well, I don't feel good, I don't want excess, I will not give in. My hunger feels like nausea. I just want to sleep, but oh this ache!

Numbers on the scale I can hardly read. 109.0. I will not be skeletal. I like no body type. Cover, cover my mistakes. Hello Kitty bandaids a the best. Much cuter than these festering accidents.

Wait--we have what now?!

So, just found out today that my apartment building has a gym. That I never knew about. And is empty almost all the time. It's so amaaazing. (Sorry to gush). Unfortunately I had a really hard time on the elliptical because I couldn't figure out how to put my weight in so I could see how many calories I was burning. Unfortunate, but hopefully I can figure it out next time. Went about 2 miles, and haven't done crunches but probably will try and do 100 when my roommate leaves.

Still pretty psyched about the whole having a really close gym, thing.  I should try to wake up early and work out! Anyone with me?!

Anyway, haven't weighed myself today. Will tomorrow. Hope that I can get everything else in my life under control. (Class, fucking boys, family, eating, gaaaaaaaaaah.)

As my confusing boy who is a friend M says,
ciao.

Magic?

Hi girlies,
Sorry that it has been so long since I've written. Not having a scale made me, well. . . less than motivated.  Interestingly enough, it seems that the less I stress out about food and how much I eat, the less I end up eating!
Am I the only one who thinks that seems a little counter intuitive?  So, I've stopped counting my calories for now. If I start to gain weight, then I will start to count again.

My weight right now is 111.5 lbs. It's not a lot of loss, but it is a loss that felt like it came relatively easily.  I really hope that this technique can get me down to 95 lbs. If it can't. . .I guess I'll see what happens then?

Ciao,
Gwen

Don't Stand So Close to the Heat that You Forget that You Must Eat

The above title was taken from a Joanna Newsom song. She is amazing. And beautiful, as it turns out.
Apologies for my last post. It was kind of a mangled cry of nothing, but I'll try to be more structured this time.

I am losing my aim and focus. I ate a lot today:

1 cup Crispix, 1/2 cup 1% milk                            = 161 cal
1 cup chicken lo mein                                          = 278 cal
1.2 cup chicken curry, 1/2 cup white rice           = 351 cal
4 chicken pot stickers                                          = 208 cal
1 mini Reese's cup                                               = 44 cal

Total = 1,037


Looking at that number, feeling the weight of the food in my belly and the faint cry of failure in the distance, I wondered how I ever ate so much before.    I know I want to be beautiful, but I'm losing my courage, my cause.  I'm afraid being thin won't make me beautiful and then what will I have given up?  I know I don't look okay like this, though. My weight doesn't hang on me the right way.

This is all just so complicated.

I guess I should enumerate on my boy troubles, because my last post was confusing.  My darling sweetheart of a boyfriend is a little socially awkward. He doesn't know very well how to express himself, and he is into free relationships.  When he was very small his older sister told him that a man and a woman could not be happy with each other for their whole life. Eventually, one would have to cheat.  So, I don't want to be hard on him when he tells me these things. I know he would never cheat on me, and he respects my boundaries enough not to make innuendo about me and other guys. I just had to make it clear to him.

The two other boys in my life are awkward as well. One just broke up with his girlfriend of 5 years. I'm going to take his flirting and touches right now to mean that he needs comfort but doesn't know how to ask for it in a platonic way. The other boy has never had a girlfriend. I'm going to take his request to "titty-fuck" as pure drunkeness.

Thanks for listening, guys.  You're more than I deserve.

-Gwen

The Bad Weekend

Two days at >2000 cal. Alcohol is a destructive beast. I feel like I'll have to struggle to get back on the wagon. I feel blimpy and inflated and unattractive.

I'm so confused. My boyfriend has told me that he thinks it would be hot if I fooled around with other people. What does that mean? A guy said that he wants to be titty-fucked and hit on me. Another keeps giving me backrubs. I don't even know if I want to fool around. I'm so confused. I don't feel like I can do this while being so unattractive.

No confidence. No monogamy?

I think I'm a girl who can't handle too many boys at once.


I'm so, so confused.

Weight = I have no idea, still no scale. Will remedy soon.


I may have a job. Hooray?

Sorry for the scattered post. Hello to my knew followers! Glad to see you here. :)
Until tomorrow.

-Gwen

The Post Without a Scale

So, not going to get around to going to Target until the weekend, so I have no idea what my weight is! In some ways it is a relief, but not knowing my weight causes constant anxiety. Have I been eating too much? Is what I eat healthy? Is not eating any less healthy than overeating, like I was before?

I feel shallow. Like I've lost a personal depth because I'm so worried about my weight. What do I hope to get from this, I wonder.  Obviously, thin perfection. But I'm not sure I'll even look very good when I drop weight, I tell myself. Maybe the ugly is in some part of me that I can't starve off. Some part of me that, without, I wouldn't even recognize myself. In my face. My broad bone structure. My shallow, shallow lifestyle.

Well, I guess I'll update you on how the last couple of days have been, calorie wise.

Tuesday: 1,074
Breakfast-2 servings OJ (220 cal)
Lunch- (1/2 can of chicken noodle soup 120 cal) + (1/3 can of tomato soup 90 cal)
Dinner - (1 beef Empanada from an awesome food truck 242 cal) + (apple 72 cal)
Snacks - (15 baked tortilla chips 160 cal) + (6 tbl spoons Salsa 30 cal) + (Serving Sun Chips 140 cal)

Wednesday:1,073
Breakfast-(1 cup 2% milk 122 cal) + (1 granola bar 140 cal)
Lunch - (1 cup "Healthy" Chicken fried rice 304 cal) + (1/2 bottle of Lemonade 130 cal)
Dinner - 1 cup Chicken Lo Mein 278 cal
Snacks - (10 baked tortilla chips 79 cal)+ (2 T salsa 10 cal)

Today:
Breakfast - (1/2 small box fruit loops) + (1/2 cup milk 62 cal)

That's all so far!

I'm a little worried about my numbers, but I'm trying to be as accurate as possible by measuring out my food when I can. I also use "My Fitness Pal" for most of the calorie amounts.

Oh well, wish I had something more to say. Perhaps I'll tell y'all about my crazy cursing professor tomorrow.

Ciao,
Gwen