So tired/ tired of waiting/ tired of waiting for you

(That's Green Day, that is.)

So, back in the realm of interweb connection after a week out in the middle of nowhere, with only one quick phone call all week (purely to wish a happy birthday to AB.)

Ended up telling JF about AB making out stuff, he was injured and still is-- and not talking to AB, which makes me guilty. I feel bad about it, but he doesn't really have much right to be fucked off with me about it, since I'm not going out with him anymore and he's a hipocritical bastard, since he went out with AB's ex with no qualms ages ago. So I'm just leaving it. If he doesn't forgive me, so be it.

Time in London was awesome and heart-wrenching. I saw loads of people I love, discovered bits of the city I'd never seen before, got drawn in a park, cried, sighed, and screamed in happiness... so much went on. Seeing JB was amazing. I overuse that word. It was phenomenal-- I was so incredibly happy for that short period of time, I'm sure I annoyed him with all my little squeaks and squeezes, but I couldn't help it, I couldn't bottle it. And when he climbed up onto that bus with his duct-taped backpack, not even looking back (probably because he assumed I'd just walk away, instead of standing there with my heart in my shoes) I felt a huge surge of hatred for those damned automobile carriages called buses that have carried the people I care about so much away from me. They've stolen hopes and yearnings and things that make me wiggle and dance, and displaced them to somewhere far-- where they belong, I suppose, but still far enough from me to make me extremely upset.

My brother's civil ceremony was short and sweet, with no big fuss being made despite the champagne and fancy dress (tuxes for the boys and my mom and I wore fascinators, which is the name for those feather and flower thingies, somewhat akin to some flapper head-dresses, except on a hair clippy thing instead.Very fun.)

Italy was even more astounding-- we were in the mountains, kind of near Calgi, and the agroturismo we were staying in was so cool. The house was huge and old and full of character (part of it was 300 years old!) and the views were spectacular (I have not seen this many stars in a very, very long time.) We arrived last Saturday, and I partied pretty much every night except last night and the Wednesday (saving myself for Thursday, which was the "ceremony".) Thursday consisted of people putting the finishing touches on their dishes (since many guests contributed a dish to the feast-- the real ceremony was the meal and the contribution of components from all of the people that Chris and Katie love and that love them.) Even though I hate speaking in public, I did it-- sobbing, might I add, since as soon as my other brother started speaking the little break in his voice as he said "I love my brother very much" set all of us (all three children, and our parents, too) to weeping. The three course meal (Jaysus Fucking Christ, that's all I can say) was amazing, and after that there was dancing and craziness (with a self-saved awkward turtle moment) [and some making out with the bride's brother, which may or may not have happened on a couple of the other nights. achem. Oh, and a naked dash to the bathroom when someone was making their way to the kitchen at 7 in the morning whilst some shenanigans were going on in the banquet hall. *cough cough*]

I swear, I sound like such a slut. Really, if I had my way, I wouldn't be doing all of this. If I could live in the same place I would be quite happily monogamous (at least, as far as I know, in my imagination of what life would be like in such a situation.) But that's not going to happen anytime soon, if at all. I'm not going to say with who, though.

Right now I am at Katie's parents house in the outskirts of London, feeling shite (gut and ovaries and feelings, all.) I may not well see CM (Katie's brother) at all again before I go, which makes me feel more than a little bit weird (obviously, our fooling around was not something made public to the families, though I think our respective moms and other people involved are astute enough to pick up on something.) I hate leaving with no closure... of course, my impulse is leave a mix cd, but I have no burner and only a few songs in my head to go on said mix ('Stay away from me' by the Honorary Title and 'Land-locked blues' by Bright Eyes, in particular, though that could be because I spent quite a bit of my PMS-y day feeling more than a little pissed off at the way he treated me.) Actually, it's less the way he's treated me (he's actually very sensitive and attentive and sweet) and more the way I'm always that girl that people hide or just fool around with, like with T or A or AB or JB even. Always the fuck in the closet (not that I've ever done that... what an intriguing and potentially uncomfortable idea...) It's not a good fucking feeling. I think most of my anger toward CM today was really just an echo of my anger at A last year. And definitely some ovary-related moodswings.

Speaking of mood swings today, I cried (or started to) a bit on the plane today because I kept thinking of JB. I haven't heard from him since he got back to York, and I know he's busy studying for exams (and it's not because I haven't heard from him that I was crying/on the verge of~) but I can't help but worry that things are fucked up between us. In my book, that would be a travesty. (no, not an executif or d'action)

Sometimes I can't help but think that some of my dramatic mood swings in public are purely to get a reaction out of people. For example, I get the sneaking suspicion that I wanted to cry to get CM to talk to me more than U (who I am fucking jealous of, but not attracted to at all. Usually if I am that jealous it's because I want to be that person and find them very arousing. In this case, it's purely attention- [and possibly self-assurance] -based.) You'd think that I would know my own intentions and be able to control them, wouldn't you? Not so. The Drama Queen rears her head and poises her claws to rake out any ounce of self-contol and respect I have to render me once again a pain-in-the-arse, paranoid teenager-figure. Fuck. And right this minute, I feel that way again, because I am secretly hoping that CM will walk in the door again and we can have a proper talk before I depart in the morning. Somehow, I doubt that's going to happen. Oh well, there's always Facebook stalking, right?

Mardi Gras, indeed

(just in case you are not familiar with what Mardi Gras means-- aside from boobs, king cake, and beads-- it's French for Fat Tuesday)

There are several things on my mind, but I've been too tired and/or busy to focus and try and process. (Note that I still should be busy, but am not doing my work.) In no particular order:

I have been reacquainting myself with peanut butter, which used to be a trigger food of mine. It's been ok for the most part, but I had a little (subjective) binge yesterday, which was mostly out of boredom and desire to avoid work, plus anxiety about going out to eat with my brother and his wife (yes, I know, I never said my impulses were smart.) I'm trying really hard not to berate myself for it, and to remember that when I go for a run it's not to earn back calories but to enjoy myself and be healthy and present. This morning I remembered that Osho says something about removing yourself from thinking of whatever you're deriving pleasure from is the cause of your happiness, and recognize that it comes from yourself, not some external force. So my goal is to do that when I'm thinking about food and doing my usual quest for a specific taste.

In a similar vein, I was talking to my mom about how I feel like she's always sending me mixed messages about food, because at one point she'll talk about how skinny she thinks I am, and then the next minute she'll say something about me eating so much. She told me that the two are not related: yes, I eat a lot, but I am also skinny. She also went on to say something about how my brother thinks that I am a rail and he's worried about me still (he was extremely worried when I met up with him in April two years ago, which is when I was at my skinniest [and scariest]-- my other brother who, incidentally, also had an eating disorder, never said anything except a few snide remarks about being on a diet. You may be able to tell which brother I like more.)I told her that I have put on weight, which she acknowledged, and that it had gone past the point (for me) of feeling like it was good to gain weight, that I felt like I was as big as I was at the beginning of my second year of university. Which is true, that's how I feel. But instead of freaking out and doing what I did back then (restrict, over-exercise, hate myself) I am trying to make this into something new. I cannot sustain myself, hang my idea of myself on this image of me as something that is not healthy for me. And even in the thick of my eating-disordered haze, it was all under the pretense of being healthier. Now, I need to remember that I am healthy. I can run, jump, play... I am able-bodied and I want to be able to love my body for what it can do, what it does, what it is at this exact second. Wasn't that what I decided I would do around New Years? (I don't do resolutions, but I came to a realization that I need to love myself exactly as I am now, no preconditions, and no waiting.) While I have made some leaps (no more writing down everything I eat-- it's been just over 4 weeks!)I constantly feel like there's so much to do, so much "self-help". In reality, that's bullshit. I am worthy of loving right this bloody second. Yes.

(I'll keep telling myself that.)

Also in the category of leaps, I've been on half of the dosage I was on for meds for three weeks now. I decided to stick it out, and it feels good. Especially to think that I could potentially go off of them and not feel so freaking dependent on them all the time. As so many people forget, meds are not supposed to cure you, they're a crutch. And I've always been one to get off of crutches as fast as possible. I've given it since December '06. I'm in a much better place than I was then, so the time for this peach is ripe. (Ha! oh, I do apologize.)

Right. I'll admit I've been putting off blogging about this, because. That's right, just because. Sunday night was J's leaving party. First thing that happens: knock on door, door opened by SS (no, not Nazi brute force. It's just the way the abbreviating thing happened.) It's immediately apparent that both of us are appraising each other, familiar with J's proposition of a group encounter. We settle down on the couch for some awkward conversation (NB: surprisingly un-awkward considering my record.) Party proceeds, lots of fun happens. By the way, telephone pictionary rocks my socks. There's interesting people around, J is fucked up (remnants of last week's brownies, plus some booze.) SS and I interact for little bits at a time, mostly teasing J and acknowledgments of each other's taste/humor/whatever. At some point in the night, I start to get a horrific headache, which (I'll admit) was probably due to not eating. At the end of the night, we gave S a big hug and... stood around awkwardly. Commenting on the awkwardness, but not really doing much to dispel it (thus build-up of awkward, as Jeff from Coupling would put it, grows like the blob from space. There are no puppies trapped in a car in this case, though.) Eventually, things got awkwardly started (I don't know much about it, since my only other group sex experience went awry when one of the girls decided her boyfriend mackin' on her best friend was too much for her [might I add that her 'boyfriend' was not exclusive and that I was fucking him?], but I get the impression that there's not really many cases when there's not a little bit of awkward.) I won't give a blow by blow, but it was hot. I was reminded of quite how much I love women's bodies, of how much women freaking intrigue me all the time. --Ok, so I'm intrigued by so many people, not just women, but the whole women aspect of it was particularly present at that point. Might I also note that although I identify as not entirely straight (that's the easiest way to put it) I haven't had the opportunity to be with a woman except in this and the aforementioned foursome-gone-bad. So there's that aspect of not really knowing exactly how to do things, an element of exploration, if you will.--
I'll admit that I wasn't expecting that much. I wasn't feeling well to begin with, and I was worried [when I had been thinking about it before] that I would spend the entire time comparing myself to her and generally being anxious. Which was not true at all-- because it wasn't about (for me, at least) just sharing J, it was about sharing her as well. And that was amazing. The only thing that worried me were that she didn't get to come enough. How's that for anxiety? As for possible lamentations? a)we were all tired and/or messed up, b)other people not involved in the house [I like noise. Yes, I do.] c)not being able to do it again, because like with any lover [or at least, good ones] you learn more about how to please each other as you go along.
C'est tout. (I don't know whether you can use it in French, but in English slang translated, c'est chaud.)

I also heard from A last night, he was wondering why he hadn't heard from me in a while (which is weird because I thought I texted him on Tuesday and our communication is usually lots in one go and then nothing for a week. Which typically has to do with the kind of communication it is, really.) He's not the planning type, but I wonder if I could wrangle a rendez-vous from him during spring break... (wrangle, A's in TX, get it? waa-waa.)

Et maintenant, je cours. (Oh, que j'adore Francais)

Where is my mind?

At this moment, I should be doing some restriction mapping of some recombinant DNA. Instead, I am going to blog. I am excellent at procrastinating, I know. There are a few things on my mind that I feel the need to relieve before I can get anything done efficiently (and I need to wake up a bit more, to boot.)
So I reassessed Saturday night/Sunday morning, and I think I was just being over dramatic and there was still fondness... but as much as I enjoy his company, I don't think I'm falling as hard as I thought I was before. Maybe it's just me doing my usual distancing thing, or maybe that's just the way it is, but either way I think it's healthier for me, so I'm a little relieved. That being said, I'm still planning to keep very busy as soon as he leaves --including during Spring Break, which I believe will not be spent at Cocoa Beach with some of my cohorts because I'm just too different from them. Maybe I'll convince S to go to Fort Lauderdale or something. Or go camping. Or maybe I'll go see A in Texas (ooh v. good distraction)... anything to divert myself, basically. I suppose I should crack down on my studying, too.

A few days ago I sent Ju an email apologizing for being so rubbish about keeping in contact with him. I didn't explain anything about J, I just said some stuff about being a little emotionally messed up and that I appreciated his messages. He sent me back an email yesterday that said that he had been a little worried about me, and that he thinks I'm an amazing person that he has enjoyed spending time with... and then he asked me if I had an eating disorder. His sister and some of his last girlfriends have apparently had troubles with this, and he recognized it in me. He said some (intelligent and eloquent) things about it, and about how he understands in some ways because he's had similar issues except with sex (which definitely raised my eyebrows) and that he's figured it out a bit recently with the help of Osho book he lent me (among other things.)
It hit me really hard, that I am that transparent (at least, to him. There was something later that I'll touch upon.) I certainly don't try to hide it, since I feel like that just feeds into it, but I didn't think I was that apparent (and, it just hit me, I probably think this because I feel like I'm not skinny enough for it to be physically apparent.)

Then, later, when Q was talking about her friend that weighs out everything she eats and is obsessive about exercizing and eating right, I got really alarmed-- it sounded so much like how I used to be-- and said something (almost on the verge of tears) about how I was recovering, and that was why I got so worried. There I was, with Q, M, and H, telling them this, and they had little to no reaction. (That being said, I think if I was alone with M she would have. Q and H are kind of awkward around me, though. Or just in general.) I guess it was kind of out of place, and I didn't want a large reaction or anything... I just expected some kind of response. Like an indication that they didn't expect it, or even something that told me that they did. It just felt odd to have nothing said about it at all.

With all that said, I'm really having trouble these days with my eating. I've been eating when I'm not hungry, when I'm bored, when I don't want to work, when I need a break in between working, when I come home... whenever. I'm not listening to my body, and then I get upset about putting on weight, as much as I think that it shouldn't matter. I don't have a problem with other people having fat. I'm not even attracted to skinny girls (I am to skinny boys, though, strangely enough. But my attraction to guys has always been kind of weird and not about their body at all.) When it comes to my body, though, I don't want it. Or, at least, not this much. I can run again (which is amazing and I love it) which makes me feel like maybe I'll lose a bit again, but at the same time I don't want to fall back into the pattern of binging and then compensating like I used to do. I'm going to try hard to regain my balance without running as a crutch: to be able to enjoy running and not use it to rationalize the crap I stuff into my mouth without thinking, or to feel like I must go for a run to make up for overeating.
I also feel really shitty about my decision to go vegetarian to cut the cost and stress that catering to a vegan was causing my family. I like cheese and yogurt, yes. My choice to go vegan was never about likes or dislikes. The first few days it felt like my relationship with my mom was less strained than it has been in a while, so that made it feel a little better. Now, though, I'm just feeling like I'm gratuitously eating stuff that I don't agree with eating. I know that part of the reason my mom thought I went vegan was to make it easier to have my ED... and on some level she's right, but it's not what she thinks. It's about control, about being able to choose to have something that I am ethically all right with and not have to deal with the rich foods that she cooks sometimes. Maybe it's a hangover from the idea that her cooking is part of what made me chubby in high school (even though in reality I know it was the eating patterns that I picked up from her.) The control aspect of it was that I knew I wouldn't get to cook in her kitchen, no matter how often she says that she'll let me. Now that I've taken away the vegan part, I feel like I have less control than ever, so me being scared about that is, ironically, fueling some binges that make me want to fall back into my ED all over again. I did have a bit of a lapse of writing down everything I eat, but not to the extent it was-- really just generally trying to sum up how much I was over and (I'll admit it) thinking about how much I would need to earn to not gain any more. I'm trying to reign in that impulse, though.

One step back to take two steps forward-- isn't that how the saying goes?