Current mood:

content

I'm having a little epiphanous (which is probably not a word) weekend.

I am tired of not writing in my ElJay, first off. Too much life has happened without my having clickety-clacked it into memory.

(I say "memory" because mine is shittier than a pile of actual shit and is getting shittier by the day. At best, I feel like a bad listener and friend when I can't remember a story someone has told me; at worst, I feel like a good candidate for Alzheimer's research -- as in, "Start watching me now, because I'm a sure-fire bet for Reagan-babble sooner or later.")

I should be typing. Telling my stories. Writing my brain down. Etcetera. So when I'm seventy I can tell my grandkids, "Hang on, let me just Manage My Tags real quick-like, and then I'll tell you all about that crazy-ass time I shat in the streets of Los Angeles. I know it's here somewhere. You're right, I shouldn't say the word 'ass.'"

What else. A hell of a lot.


In the spirit of El Jay anonymity, I'm adopting a (new) moniker for the once-love that's back again and blowing my f'cking brain. She came to visit this week and I (in a very un-vegan moment) called her Chicken Nugget. Well... let's say Chik'n Nugget. That sounds more animal-friendly. Or... okay, okay, I'm settled on Chick'n Nugget. Cause she's a chick and I like her nugget.

(And it may or may not start with the same three letters her old El Jay nickname may or may not have started with.)

(Yes, I realize what I just did.)

ANYWAY: It stuck and she took a shine to it and I called her Chick'n Nugget more than once this week. So.

Nugget and I had a gorgeous little week in La-La Land. We took some pictures so you (i.e. my memory) could enjoy it, too. They are here.

And then in general... I'm experiencing a bit of a wake-up in terms of my health and well-being and focus. I can't say what's motivating it, exactly, as none of the factors I can cite are really action-inspiring on their own, but I feel it. The most glaring problem is that I have gained about fifteen pounds since moving to Los Angeles, which seems like it should be impossible (this being Los Angeles and all) but apparently is not. I'm in a shitty mood too often. I feel like I'm not sexy enough (for lack of a better term, and in myriad ways) to be getting the roles I'm getting (and certainly not sexy enough for the ones I'm not getting). I feel unmotivated six days out of the week. I have fun with friends, but generally feel inadequate and/or silently and asshole-ily judge them for not being adequate enough.

Enough of that.

(Unless, of course, this is that one day when I feel motivated but will not tomorrow... fucking A with shit on top!)

(I don't think it is, though.)

I went grocery shopping today, and resolved in my own head that eating better and less deserves and demands just as much money and energy as eating shittily and more. I came to the realization that I've been fooling myself into thinking I am eating "better" on and off simply by eating less -- but not better and certainly not as creatively -- and not enjoying it as much. Needless to say, this predestines failure. I'd get hungry because I wasn't eating enough, I'd freak out and eat too much, and I'd throw in the towel because I ate too much. Eventually the cycle would come round again and fail again.

I could say I don't know how it all happened, but I suppose I do. I had everything figured out there for a year or so -- I had my routines, I had my run, I had my line-up of fiber and vitamins in the mornings, I had my safe snacks. Moving and readjusting to a new location, home environment, job schedule, social circles, and so on got me pretty distracted. It's easy to forget vitamins; it's easy to eat something boring for dinner and then get into snack-trouble later in the night; it's easy to not buy produce and make magic happen; it's easy to get sucked into the ice-cream-is-only-thirty-seconds-away-from-my-front-door vortex when there's no plan for the evening.

So I guess I'm starting over. I was trying not to admit that, trying to pish-posh the extra pounds as a normal little setback, trying to jump back on the train as it dragged me along behind it, trying to pretend I was on top of things and knew what I was doing simply because I'd done it before.

Okay, fine. I fucked up. I have weight to lose.

So. I did not buy soy ice cream, I did not buy bread, I did not buy fake meat products or frozen tamales. I bought produce and produce and produce and tofu and kitty litter and tofu. I will make delicious things that are low in calories and high in prep time and I will not feel bad or cut corners just because I am eating alone. I will not make a sad face because no one compliments me on how nice the presentation is or how perfectly the flavors are balanced. I will not make more than I will eat, and I will not eat more than I need. I will take my fiber, I will take my vitamins, I will take my aminos. I will get up in the morning and run, and when I get home I will do my situps and pushups and squats because I know they will make me feel better later.

Doing laundry or getting my Netflix rental returned or going to the bar or being tired ARE NOT GOOD EXCUSES.

Honestly, I think the biggest component in my maintenance of a healthy weight hinges heavily on taking vitamins and aminos and fiber. I have always had a tendency to keep eating after I feel full, but I don't have that tendency if I am taking my supplements... I'm not above admitting that it might be related to my veg*ism. I think I get "hungry" when my body is not getting complete nutrition, as well as when my belly's actually empty. When I don't take my supplements, it's like I can eat and eat and eat -- even if I am physically "full" -- because some nutritional component is missing. It sucks. At least I'm aware of it. Moving on.

That was probably hella boring if you aren't me. Apologies and foot-licking and whatnot.

Along with this "starting over" period with eating and exercise -- which I anticipate will take about two months to establish -- I'm considering taking a slight break in other areas. My subscription to backstage.com is just about to expire, and I might wait to renew it. I'm having confidence issues, and confidence issues don't make for a healthy base to attack the world from. I'm not going to feel good about submitting myself for roles until I have new headshots; I'm not going to feel good about getting new headshots until I feel good about myself; etcetera. I'm sure I could get work while feeling shitty (yes, i'm just that motherfucking good), but... I kind of want to back up, collect myself, assess the field, and then start running again. As things stand, I feel like I'm doing this really tipsy-ass wobble-hop, and I don't trust that continuing on in that manner will be good for mental clarity as I start over and refocus. I don't trust that I'll start to suddenly not-flail, either, so I'd rather establish a clean stop and a new start.

*sigh*

All that came out, and I really was just planning on squeeing over my lovely week.

In a cryptic nutshell (You should see the nutcracker.):

Friday: sushi, jumping jacks, cats, pizza, Scoops, jumping jacks
Saturday: jumping jacks, cereal, jumping jacks, nap, margaritas at S&E's, Nugget gets sick
Sunday: woke late, jumping jacks, banana pancakes and tofu scramble, 99 cents store, Real Food Daily, walk up to Hollywood Blvd, Team America, jumping jacks
Monday: jumping jacks (I think?), Big Sur, gas, campsite, bought food, campfire, hot dogs and chips, camped
Tuesday: campfire, breakfast burritos, coffee, Pfeiffer Beach, Nepenthe, peed at the Henry Miller library, drove, Chick’n Nugget sick, fighting, seals, fighting, home
Wednesday: talking, Dorklepork likes it rough, Central Library, Bonaventure, Ethiopian, espresso, Pleasure Chest, pawrn, jumping jacks, Nugget likes it rough, candles
Thursday: bananas and cereal, Dorklepork worked til 2/Chick’n Nugget played guitar, Mexican ($1 parking and crazy real estate agent), MOCA (D feels sick, see Bitch and maybe Jenny from the L Word), Dorklepork poops, Nugget gets Thai and drinks beer
Friday: D worked til 1/N wrote, Lake Shrine, Santa Monica Pier (rollercoaster, getting married), sushi and cookie dough with S&E, home and asleep
Saturday: woke, sad, jumping jacks, M Cafe, Sara Silverman, airport, cried


Of course there are stories. Stories I should tell, and will, upon the morrow. Right now I am 'leepy.