Weight set point, dropping inches and why I said eff it I am eating fruit.

I’m obsessed. I know it isn’t a healthy spot for me now, mentally but I am trying to let go of obsessive thoughts and just be happy with the body I have right now. It works well, It feels good. I can push it and make it do things it’s never done before. I can wear cute clothes, and walk longer and faster than I ever have before. I can feel muscles growing in my legs and my body is beginning to look more sculpted in areas that have never been defined before. I have a clavicle.

But I haven’t lost a damn pound in over a month now.

I don’t see this as a punishment.. mostly. I feel like my body is having its way with me after years of pushing and yo yo ing up and down that it’s finally had it with me and my ways.

The fact is I am eating healthier than I ever have before. I am eating reasonable portions and I am working out at least 3 times a week, barring any injuries or sickness. I am on a modified keto, what some people call dirty keto, because I refuse to stop eating fruit. I am only eating berries right now.. because it is summer and I need some fruit in my damn life. I can’t even fathom that the reason I am not losing a pound is that I eat some berries every few days. Every meal is meat/veg and sometimes some cheese in-between. I make dinners full of fibrous vegetables. It’s delicious and I know I feel good after I eat it.   

I am now wearing a Large. Not an Extra Large, or an Extra Extra Large like I did for years. I have gone down a bra size and am down a few pants sizes. But no pounds. Not one. In fact this morning I gained a half pound.

O my god this is so boring.

The party was great. All that worrying for nothing, the B didn’t show up, neither did her consort. I behaved nicely but had a few drinks and tokes like usual. I spent a lot of time talking with Zim about music, Harry about writing and Hawkeye about old times. He told me something that made my night. I don’t think I want to share it because it is totally self indulgent and superfluous, which are, btw my two favorite descriptors in life. I should have called this blog by that name.

So lately I have been feeling a certain way.  You know I’ve been doing this poetry gig for over 20 years.. much more than that I think now we can almost say 30. I have consistently maintained a space for open mic and have supported and attended many in the DFW area, some for years on end. I have done festivals and variety shows. I opened for the Goo Goo Dolls once. ( not as stellar as it sounds) I was in a movie, a documentary and on the news a few times. I have been published in many fine collections, have won contests with my work, and have finally been published on my own. So what’s the problem? I guess sometimes I feel that it all isn’t enough. It only takes a few months out of the loop to be forgotten or pushed aside. Also, all these years I have known people that have never come to one thing, event or show I have produced or starred in.. I get it. It’s not everyone’s bag, right? I don’t go see death metal shows even if I love the performer.. because I can’t listen to that kind of stuff. It washes over me. Ok, so I’m not upset with that. I am upset sometimes that these people who have never supported or shown any interest in what I do creatively, all the sudden show up and want in on the show. Uhmmm.. am I being shitty? Probably. What do I care if you just started writing a few years ago and have a few books out already? I guess some people don’t have to work so hard at it. I guess you can just wake up one day and decide you want to be a published poet. I mean, to hell with getting booed off a stage or preempted for a slurpee drinking contest ( true Story) or asked to a party without the knowledge you are the entertainment ( this has happened..but I promise you, I did not perform). Maybe you don’t have to struggle with day jobs that kill your soul all day long to pay your bills so you can go shlep it over to an open mic where you don’t even have enough money for a beer to keep you entertained while you wait to perform for a crowd that doesn’t even want to hear you anyway. Maybe you don’t have to work with neumerous people that think their shit don’t stink and then have to walk around them for the rest of your life like a land mine because they or you have it in for you or them? Maybe you don’t need to get slandered online, in person, by word of mouth and get gigs taken away from you just because someone has some beef with you and you miss out on a stipend or a pass the hat that will help you get by. Maybe you don’t have to give your book away for free because hey no one has any money anyway so why bother trying to make a living by your art. And my favorite.. have a show that everyone walks out of while you are on stage. It happens.

So you are fronting that you are in the know. You belong here. Forgive me if I’m not warming up to that idea right away. Maybe you could come out and support something that has nothing to do with you once and a while. Maybe you can stop kissing ass for a minute and listen to someone else’s poetry.

Maybe you can stop looking for a label to stamp on yourself and just support one another.

Maybe I’m just being shitty. Probably.

My new favorite thing is cottage cheese with blueberries and blackberry sugar free jam mixed in it. It’s probably a zillion carbs and a million calories. IDGAF

My friend Martin is in Columbia and I wish I could see out of his eyes right now. I told him he was smart to not tell me when he was leaving because I would have hidden in his suitcase.  I miss talking with him and can’t wait to hear all about the trip. Columbia seems like some kind of wonderland in my brain. I can’t even imagine what being out of this country for an extended amount of time feels like. I want out. Bad.

Tejana is finally done with the tour. We finished on Saturday. I plan on using the money I get for it to pad my savings.. since there isn’t anything in there anymore. I am sure there are things I could use it on.. but I really want a vacation by the end of this year.. and NOLA is looking good, or NYC again. I am up for a promotion at work and if I get it.. I’m staying on for the raise. I really hope it happens. This place isn’t bad, but everyone here is bored so they gossip constantly. I already made some mistakes. But at least they are entertained by me. That, in fact, is how I always want to be. Entertaining.

Avant is Sunday. I can’t even wait.

Thursday is Dennis’ Birthday at Revelers Hall. I can’t wait to kiss his face.

I bought a new dress and even tho no one has commented on it all day so far, I feel pretty in it.

Score one for the gipper. Sometimes happy thoughts happen.

Still reading Harry’s Vacuum stories. Still being blown away,

Honestly, I'm just being shitty. Alfter all where would I be without people that were accepting of me when I started? I'm sure I got on everyone's nerves at the start, and I am sure I still do.

Maybe I just need to eat some more fruit. 

Wicked Wicked Feleena

This week has been a work riot. I don’t even want to tell you what I am looking at for today. Usually I am pretty happy about Friday. Today is just like any other day around here. I don’t want to complain. I didn’t have a job for a good long time and I was bored to death and broke because of that. Anyway, I apologize I haven’t kept up with things around here. How was your week?

Oh Babies.

I wrote a poem about El Paso and it’s been haunting me for days. There comes a point when you can’t ignore what is going on anymore. Love poems are nice, confessional pieces, even funny things to keep people upbeat.. but sometimes you have to write about what the hell is going on so that people can stop and think, or cry or dream about something better. It aint all that, my poem, but I’m glad I wrote it.

We are quite possibly going to be moving out of N OC proper. We just can’t afford it anymore. I don’t see getting paid any more than I am now any time soon. I knew it was going to happen eventually, but I kept hoping something would change. This means downsizing again, getting rid of lots of things.. my books.. my books… it’s time to let them go and this makes me sad. The other stuff isn’t important.. but there is so much of it all. There is also this nagging feeling that I should have been doing better by now and not having to do this again. I am almost 50 and here we are again, throwing out the stuff we worked hard to get, letting go of things we love and moving away from all the places we’ve grown to love the past 20 years. This is the life of an artist. The day job face becomes a mask and all other things fade away. At least we have each other. At least our kid is on her own and doing well. I shouldn’t be such a brat, yo, at least I have the chance to move and am not getting kicked out. That could happen if we don’t move again soon.

Tonight is the big party. Navigation plans in motion. Outfit picked out. Making a conscience effort to not get hammered and make a fool of oneself. Just for once I want to act like a grown ass woman and make it home in one piece. Is it even possible? I feel like there are going to be landmines everywhere. Or shit piles. Harry said he was coming and that if I felt anxious he would talk to me about writing and we would be OK together. I usually love parties. I don’t know.

I have a performance Saturday with Tejana Cosmica. It will be good to see the ladies again. I saw Tamitha at Mad Swirl and she looked radiant. I’m glad she got out of the city for a while and she still even has her tan from the island. She went to Hawaii with her family and they camped on the beaches. It looked amazing. I love that family. I see them and they inspire me to so much.

 I just keep slipping off the rocks going up the hill. I guess. But I always keep climbing.

So, I’m in a rut.  Maybe today will change that. I am forever hopeful.

Harry’s book is amazing and I think about reading it when I am sitting at work. I am going to find a picture of us we took about 4 years ago that we goofed about doing our ‘ author picture faces’ because we both knew we were going to be published one day… and now we are. 

We did it, Harry. Did you know if you change the r’s in your name to p’s then you’d be Happy? I just typed that on accident but it was a Happy Accident. A Harry Accident.

I missed an event last night.  I don’t think anyone even noticed and that is perfect.

Happy Friday. I will report from the trenches tonight if I stick with my plan and behave.

If not, you will hear the horrible account next week.

Here is that picture of me and Harry. 2015

Bestie - A poem

Bestie

The truth about it

is that it’s all armor now

slashed scars

have grown over themselves

hardened

Into a new kind of shell

That embraces and

shields 

and when I walk into a room

it

gives them something

to notice

so that everyone knows

you changed me.

This cape of skin

Shrinking away

Under hands

Gives devilish delight

Eats away at itself

Night after night

Feeding on  

The events that should have never happened

and

The words that should have never been said

The lips that should have never kissed

re-missed..

is all now

Food for strength

And wasting away

I click my nails in anticipation

I whirl my hair and count the pounds

calorie for carb

energy displaced

And when you are near

I am a ghost

a shadow of myself

A silent cobweb

That will blow over

Like cigarette smoke

Hand waved

Lilting away

My steps vanish

To dust

No thud behind them

No moving waves

Just stillness

Solid

Quiet

My body is armor now

Strong but invisible

Ice cold but silent

Don’t look for me

Speak my name

Or pause in memory

The wounds you gave

Turned from black to blue

To purple to grey

To gone

Like you

To me

Like you

To me

If I shrink shrink away

maybe 

so 

will the pain.

FYI

This is my friend Harry. Harry writes the blog Socail Onanism. He is a friend of mine and he has just published a wonderful book from Free Tongue Press called Vacuum Stories. I am really excited to read it because from the first moment I heard Harry read I wanted to have his words in my hands. I am so proud of my friend, and I am happy that he is happy right now. Go to Amazon and buy a chunk of his brain and a hunk of his heart.

More Blog Later. So Much Work. 

But first, a martini, please

I guess I am still recovering from Saturday because I feel shredded. This week is two open mics, Mad Swirl first and foremost is tomorrow and Pleasant Groove with the Tejana’s featuring is Saturday. Maybe getting back to performance will wake me up .

Today I start working with a trainer at the gym. What? That sounds so bizarre.

Anyway.

Friday night is a big party that I’m sure I’m going to feel awkward at because  my ex best friend will be there and blah blah blah I can’t not go out because people that hurt me are going to be there.. blah blah blah.. I’m not going to starve myself all week or get shitfaced drunk to deal with it that night. I am going to be a grown ass woman and have a splendid time. *Start hyperventilating now*

Saturday going to see a friend’s band at another friends new club. So much hopping and bopping as it were. Everyone is doing something and things are all very fab. I am starting a project with Dillon, I mean it was only about time. He drew the most amazing picture and I am totally using it for my next book cover. I am going to have to stop blogging so much so I can get my poetry in order. Not. This blog keeps me going. Talking into space instead of keeping it jammed up inside. All of you, my faithful readers.. all 5 of you.. I adore you.

I listen to Alan Alda’s podcast every Tuesday. It’s about communication and it’s delightful to listen to his voice while I am usually neck deep in work. It’s no secret that I love his voice and that it calms me. I love to watch M*A*S*H at night before bed so I can sail off to sweet dreams with Hawkeye steering the ship into the clouds. Yeah, I have a crush on Hawkeye. I know if he was a real person he would never date me, or look my way, but I would try desperately to get him to notice me. I’d even join the army during the Korean war.

I’ve thought about writing him a fan letter, which I know sounds ancient, but I have a feeling he would respond. Maybe send me a signed picture of Hawkeye and write it long hand so I could rub my fingers over the indentions the pen made. But if I did and he didn’t I hope it wouldn’t sour me on the whole thing. I’ve written a few fan letter, and have sent even less. I am going to keep meditating on it and decide soon if I should or not.

On a completely diff note, my boss is def bipolar. It makes me sad. There are people that work here that have it in for her and I just can’t because I know how it is, and I know what it feels like when you are out of control and you can’t just be normal no matter how you try. The more you obsess about being normal the harder it becomes, and the arms start flying around, the anger sets in and the wild mood swings take hold. She may not know this, but I am on her side, even though she kinda scares me sometimes. I hope she is getting the help she needs to give her some relief. I suspect all of her dr visits are for this and I am in the background giving her all the applause because the hardest part is taking care of it, giving up that perceived control and letting it get treated instead of it taking you on that wild ride. Well the ride can be great, fun, exciting.. but sometimes.. it’s not.. it’s downright terrifying.

I write this blog because I want people to know we are all out there. We all have to get up and make our way in this world even when our brain is telling us to give up, show out, or disregard our own health. Our sickness tells us we are not worth it or we beat ourselves up when we can’t control it all. We get up every day and keep staying alive when all we want to do is go to bed, over eat or day drink.  Sometimes we do those things anyway.. afterall this is the land of excess.. and that isn’t a good reason but people allow it anyway. I write this blog because every day is a struggle even when I smile and laugh and seem well adjusted and ‘normal’ and this doesn’t make me any better than anyone else that feels the same way and can’t hide it anymore. Actually I envy them. Of course I could be kidding myself. I could actually look crazy to everyone! HAH!

I write this blog because I am 46 years old and I just DGAF what anyone thinks about me anymore. This is who I am. Take me or leave me.. I’m going on.

But first, a martini.

Flat as a

I laid low this weekend and it was OK.

I mean, I could tell you the truth and just admit I had a crazy drinking episode on Friday that rendered me mostly useless for the remainder of the weekend, but we should keep some mystery between us don’t  you think?

I saw Dillon on Friday night. He was having a tough time and I was glad we ran into him. There was a DJ at the TX but only a few people there to dance. I danced. I drank. I ran into some people that seemed thrilled that I was there.. I got introduced as a poet, a very famous poet. I let it go to my head. They bought me many drinks..

The rest is an unsettling blur.

I don’t really want to talk about it. Thus I avoided all phone calls for the remainder of the weekend as I laid in bed and try to come back to life. I feel like the older I get the harder surviving these ridiculous nights become.  The night just stretched and stretched into some cosmic joke I never seem to get to the punch line fully lucid. Do you know what I mean? How am I supposed to feel when someone thinks I’m a famous anybody and buys me drinks?

But it isn’t all that bad. I just miss my confidant. I have always been able to vent somehow about these nights, but now it just all seems so sad. I am going to stop. Promise.

I gave the 2 of them a copy of my book. I don’t even know if they cared.

Saturday was recovery. I stayed in bed until 3 pm. I ate pancakes with butter and syrup and it was glorious. Sometimes you just have to dig in and remember why everyone loves pancakes so much. It’s because they are so good, especially from Norma’s.

We watched the movie Leaving Las Vegas, which I don’t recommend watching while nursing the most excruciating hang over ever. It didn’t go so well for me, but I thought the woman lead was incredible. I didn’t like the character of the drunk, probably because I saw myself in it so much at that point. No, I don’t drive around swilling handles of vodka or have the DTs when I stop. But there was this attitude of

complacency with his own suicidal behaviors. He just gave in and was on a mission that was more pointed than most. It was the vehicle for the movie, the device.  He was more than a just a bum human being with an obvious disease, but I still didn’t like him and wasn’t sad at all when he died. (spoiler alert, but dude, c’mon) I didn’t like the way his illness prevented even the minutest amount of compassion for the woman who agreed to stay with him throughout his elongated suicide mission. And then again, why did she stay? She was lonely. She’d rather be with that kind of mess than be alone. Oh and she was a hooker and Roseanne’s sister was her landlord.  The End.

Today I started new supplements. A MCT oil to help kick me into keto faster, and a collagen powder for endurance and better skin and hair. They say it also help keep you satiated and fuller longer, which remains to be seen. Since I fell off a little this weekend I hope I can jump back in fully this week starting today.  Breakfast was Coffee, Water, supplements, a boiled egg and a piece of fathead bread.  I wish it was pancakes.

I got my new pop rocks figure in the  mail this weekend and it is Morrissey and it is adorable. I hope Ken Mills forgives me for moving my figure next to Morrissey for a while.

Wednesday is Mad Swirl. I’m anxious but I can’t wait to see my friends. This job has taken a lot out of me, it’s time to go refill.

Thus is Monday’s boring blog. Thanks for hanging, and I’m sure it’s only going to get worse. Screw Monday. There aren’t enough pancakes for me.

Everything’s coming up Thrillhouse

And just like that, kablamm.

I didn’t make it out last night because of what has become the term ‘fridge fuckery’. Unfortunately the saga continues and it looks like we are still wrestling with a broken fridge, this being the second one in a row now. My frozen food has rot and had to be thrown out.. blah blah blah blah blah blah. Maybe by this evening things will be resolved. I went to the gym in lieu of the reading and was ignoring all the happy shiny pictures of all the people I love  and some haters) under the same roof having a good time. I think it’s what the kids call FOMO, right? Well I had ALL the FOMO while I was sweating and stretching and trying to erase away the disappointment. I had planned on a late evening with my dear friend Dillon, who I never see but by the time the gym, the fridge fuckery and the disappointment set in, I flaked out.  I mean, I messaged to say I couldn’t go, so it wasn’t really a flake.. but still. Dillon is a fascinating new friend I have made recently from the Avant group. He is talented, exciting, fashionable and very very sweet. I mean, he has the sweetest disposition that he couldn’t shake if he wanted to.. it just  IS what he IS. I also sense there is a great ball of energy inside of him that is just about to burst out.. his talent and instincts are boundless and I really love being around him. He is younger than I, about the age of my daughter I would reckon.. and I have some insecurity about that. I am almost 50 years old and I guess I feel my age more these days. He gives me the big PSHAW when I go on about these things.. and I believe him when he says it isn’t a big deal and I do think he really likes being around me so it’s a big thing, guys. I don’t have the best luck with friendships.. I think I got drunk one night and told him some things about all that mess and he just listened and told me he would never do those things to me..and I believe his sweet soul. I just wish I could muster up enough energy to see him more often. Weeknights take a lot out of me now. Honestly I just like to go home, smoke a bowl and watch the tube after I have a good dinner and workout. I have become so old and boring. But the weekends are something else.

What do you have planned for the weekend? Anything fun?  I’ve got some mischief simmering.

Oh so here are the kablamms!

Kablamm #1

I got invited to my first happy hour here at the office. I have been here now for 2 months and have finally broken the social bubble wide open. My at-work-bestie told me these guys are wild and raunchy so I feel like I am about to be truly at home. We go out tomorrow after work and I really can’t wait. I see this as an accomplishment for myself socially. I haven’t scared anyone off and that is a big thing. Yay! DRINKS!

Kablamm #2

I just got offered a HUGE gig for Halloween night! I have worked with this group before and as a poet have received so much good feedback and followers from the past events. It’s a big one this time.. really fucking huge. There are going to be several hundreds of people in attendance and I am so excited to try something new, but smoking hot. I have to call on some musician friends to see if they can work with me on this and my mind is churning with the possibilities. Will you save some time for me on October 31? I will be announcing all the details as soon as they become firmed up and official, but I can’t help teasing you all. It’s going to be HUGE I tells ya.

So just like that.. things happen. This morning I was glumly riding the bus to work thinking I screwed up everything by stepping down from the board, and isolating myself from events lately and that maybe people have forgotten about me. I love it when I am wrong. Now I can pull the pots off the backburners and turn up the heat.. It’s time to start bubbling, babies. The Bitch is Back.