Fruit on the bottom yogurt.
Seriously.
Seriously?
I always manage to slop half the container on my pants
in a futile attempt to blend my yogurt effectively.
Mix that shit, Chobani.
I know you have it in you.
dancer. reader. thinker.
20 Nov 2012 1 Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: bright moments with becca, i would like being a feminist better if it meant i didn't have to bleed, irrational, j'deteste, sneaky hate spiral
Fruit on the bottom yogurt.
Seriously.
Seriously?
I always manage to slop half the container on my pants
in a futile attempt to blend my yogurt effectively.
Mix that shit, Chobani.
I know you have it in you.
17 Jan 2012 4 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: depression, i would like being a feminist better if it meant i didn't have to bleed, khaki colored thumb, oh hell it's tuesday, plants, the language of flowers often sounds like insults
If I were in a movie,
I’m sure one of the blossoms would fall off dramatically as I leave my office.
Indicating something about my age,
my failed attempts at having a career,
January,
*mumblemumble*SYMBOLISM.
Do you ever have those days (years)
where you just know for a fact
that your job will never be doing what you love?
21 Nov 2011 Leave a comment
in Uncategorized Tags: All families are psychotic, confessions of a sweet tooth, family, holidays, i would like being a feminist better if it meant i didn't have to bleed, If I'm skinny will you finally leave me alone?, This moment of tactlessness brought to you by..., when you say one thing and mean your mother, woman laughing alone with salad
Becca eats rabbit food until then.
I love my salad.
I love my salad.
I LOVE MY DAMN SALAD.
19 Oct 2011 6 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: Age is Just Another Way of Becoming Awesome, circus, crossfit, dammit, fitness, goals, handbalancing, harder better faster stronger, I watch gymnastic videos and think "hey! i could do that!", i would like being a feminist better if it meant i didn't have to bleed, resolutions, tabata, weight does not equal math
When I was an overweight and squishy high-schooler,
I made promises to myself in the summertime that come September,
I would be skinny,
buff,
in shape,
able to share clothes with my Q-Tip sister.
“I did sit-ups and jumping jacks before bed!
If I keep this up, I’m going to be pretty!
Boys will pay attention to me!
I won’t be an outcast anymore!”
And I kept it up…
for about a week.
Then a new book that I was waiting for would come in at the library.
Or I was exhausted from riding my bike home in the late twilight
after a shift at McDonald’s.
And I’d forget.
September came around,
new clothes were purchased,
in a larger size than the year prior.
It never worked,
is what I’m saying.
I honestly don’t know how I finally lost weight after high school.
I think it was because of a college roommate whose family only ate organic food.
I went to her house,
a lovely place of refuge in the deserts of Palm Springs,
and I remember the food just tasted…so GOOD.
I left my parents’ house,
began buying my own food,
and, no longer being under the thumb of a curfew,
I began running late at night.
(I hated that running, by the way)
Got down to the weight that I am now.
I’ve kept it for six years,
with about five pounds of fluctuation either direction,
which puts me in the tiny percentile of folks for whom long-term weight loss actually worked.
It’s a healthy weight.
I am capable of doing quite a lot at my current fitness level.
But.
I feel like I can do better still.
I’m working on creating a handbalancing performance with a friend for
Southern Faire this spring.
I am adamantly NOT in good enough shape for that right now.
And it’s hard.
Because?
Most of the women who do circus performance or serious partner acrobatics
weigh about 25 pounds less than I do.
I doubt that I will ever be able to lose that much weight without SERIOUSLY fucking up my (already) fucked up body and metabolism.
I need to be stronger.
More flexible.
Powerful.
Able to hold my own weight without flinching,
or putting all of it on my partner.
As a woman, when you’re not a tiny pixie person,
you have to make up for putting more weight on your partner.
I need my body to be better.
So I’m doing Crossfit style workouts every day.
Will start incorporating Tabata sprints.
Oh, and yoga, too.
Damn, I miss yoga.
I’m just tired of my body not doing what I want it to do.
Tonight’s workout:
3 rounds of:
25 squats
20 lunges
15 jumping jacks
10 handstands (supported or not)
5 pushups
And because I’m not COMPLETELY crazy,
1 sprint for 200 meters.
15 Sep 2011 8 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: anxiety, body dysmorphia, body image, depression, diets, eating disorder, Give me my bagel or give me death!, gluten-free, i would like being a feminist better if it meant i didn't have to bleed, oh stop my stomach hurts!, So my choice is "or death" then?
Which sounds way more hoity-toity than it actually is.
I went to a follow up appointment with my doctor,
and found out that nothing is Actually Wrong with Me.
My body is just being a dick.
All of my blood tests came back completely normal,
with a little bit of, “oh, you need more vitamin D,
and should probably take fish oil”.
So the being sick after eating at any restaurant,
the violent reaction to soy,
the struggling to keep salad down?
Ain’t no thing.
SO.
ANNOYING.
Consequently,
my doctor recommended that I go gluten-free for six months.
I’m currently trying it out for two weeks.
‘Coz here’s the bitch about eliminating an entire (and large!)
food group from my diet:
I’m recovering from a ten year eating disorder.
Restricting is a really bad plan.
And because,
hello,
my brain is broken when it comes to food,
my first reaction upon being told to go gluten-free
was to feel guilty about the food that I’ve been eating.
If I had been good,
I wouldn’t be sick.
If I had been eating less,
I wouldn’t be sick.
If I had stuck to a handful of almonds and a piece of fruit in the morning,
I wouldn’t be sick.
If I weren’t eating things like whole-grain english muffins,
I would be skinny.
In my brain,
she was telling me this because
I am a bad person.
(Welcome to the eating disordered mind, people.)
All of which makes just trying out gluten-free
a daunting task.
It’s not really because I think gluten-free bread tastes like a moldy paper cup.
It’s because I feel like I’ve been bad,
and if I hadn’t been,
I wouldn’t be dealing with this.
It sucks.
ps (And? No more saltines when I’m sick? *tears*)
14 Jul 2011 5 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: depression, diet, dreams, i would like being a feminist better if it meant i didn't have to bleed, maybe not the best laid plan of a mice or (wo)man, stop: SEXY TIME, tastespotting, the Black Dog, when in doubt look cute, work with me people
My body has one of two primary reactions when it gets depressed:
1) It wants to eat everything in the world
(mostly gummi bears),
Or
2) It wants to buy shoes.
The truly terrible issue at hand is that July has been hella’spensive,
and consequently, I can’t really justify the shopping.
I also managed to lose a teensy bit of weight,
and I don’t want to jeopardize that by going on a calorie binge.
(No Sense of Proportion Girl, at your service)
So,
what do YOU do to fight the Black Dog
when money is tight and you don’t want your belt to do the same?
Help me out, kids,
‘coz this shit is looking reaaaally appealing right now:
11 Feb 2011 3 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: anthropologie, caviar dreams on a mc donald's budget, dreams, i would like being a feminist better if it meant i didn't have to bleed, inspiration, irregular choice, lovelies, stop: SEXY TIME, wardrobe, when in doubt look cute
“I have nothing to WEAR!!!”
Well.
I have a *couple* of things.
The trouble is,
my closet was jeeest starting to undergo
a good and welcome change from “I’m-a-teacher-and-I-don’t-like-my-life”
and “I work for a company whose dress code is ‘Cover Your Vitals'”
to “Hey, maybe I should dress for the job I want “.
And then I lost my job.
And, you know,
groceries became a little more important than revamping my
(sad sack)
wardrobe.
But oh,
oh,
how I want to go shopping again.
I blame all the pretty fashion bloggers I follow.
(Chloe, Tara, I am SO looking at you)
In light of that, then,
I decided to at least create a virtual wishlist/wardrobe of prettypretties
that maybe someday I’ll be able to wear:
(all in the name of stimulating the economy, understand!)
(because that’s obviously what we’re all thinking about in Anthropologie)
Working Wear by littlebrave featuring gold earrings
Pretty Lemon Skirt by littlebrave featuring a silk ruffle blouse