Recovering from being sick. No working out. I eat and lay around. And drink wine.  And read. And write. And now I'm watching movies, too.

Today, I've been eating Jamaican Spice Bun + cheese. So yummy!

Other than being confined to home, I'm pretty happy.

I'm 138.4 today - down 1.4 pounds from lat week (likely on account that I barely ate on Monday and have been mostly careful about calories since I stay in bed all day).

Weight

Some how - most likely because I inhale food - my weight has steadily crept up over the past few years. I'm dedicated to getting it down.

So cutting calories will ensue. I exercise enough already - it is purely the eating that is the problem. I'm considering joining overeaters anonymous - and no, I'm not overweight or obese, but I'd like to curb this before it gets there.

Make no mistake about it - it's HARD.

Here's this nifty little thing to help (I was 139,.6 on this one, maybe):

Coupled with tons of discipline - which is like a muscle - you have to exercise it for it to grow. Yesterday, I learned a bit about discipline but there's so much room for improvement with the amount of food I eat.

I'm going to stick to a certain amount of calories (1200), even if it means packing my own lunches, cutting out alcohol, not dining out until I have the discipline to resist the bread/ onion ring/ french fries basket and the accompanying delectable sauces. I'm going to continue to exercise for 1 hour a day (when I'm not working) and honestly, when I do work, I move around so much that I don't really need to exercise. Nevertheless, I'm going to try to get in 30 minutes a day, 3 times a week while working. Weekends will require workouts.

I am determined to be again the nicely proportioned girl I've been for most of my life.

It's going to be hard, but I love nothing if not a challenge. I think.

Sex Club

I'm visiting Miami again.

I'm staying with Laura, friend of mine, and she asked if I wanted to come to a sex club with her, a guy she was being set up with, and the couple doing the setting up. Being the sexually curious person that I am, I say...

"Sure."

I'm by no means an expert on the matter, but I pretty much have the lady in the streets, freak in the sheets thing down (especially if I'm head over heels in love - I'll turn that freak potential alllll the way up). I've been known to dress up, be cuffed, beaten - not too hard, it was part of the game - and other things that people do in the bedroom when they have a mate that is equally as open minded as they are.

The couple - we will call them Tom and Clare - pick up me and Laura. We meet up with Tom's twin brother, Perry. As Perry is the larger of the two, they are no longer identical. As I'm the 5th wheel, Laura told me to come along with her and Perry. We get into Perry's white Lexus with impossibly shiny (and large) chrome rims. The rims where so large that every time he turned, the tires scrubbed against the car... so I guessed immediately that he was probably going to be a doucher.

As we ride along, he and Laura make conversation in the front seat. I'm quiet in the back, but ask casually, "I heard you and you're brother were trying to get into porn?"

"Well, not really get into it, but come up with concepts. Like, you know, there aren't a lot of things that haven't been done. I thought it would be really hot to watch men have sex with butch dykes and mostly watch the woman's reaction so we could see how much she didn't like it."

There's really not much to say when some one admits that they think raping boyish lesbians is hot. He slid even further into the doucher category.

We arrive at the club, pay the exorbitant rates to enter, and get a table and some drinks. Laura and I go to the bathroom to powder our noses. When we come back, Perry, tries to caress my thigh under the table but I'm totally not into him at all. I go out on the dance floor, do a few moves, dance on the stripper pole.

After a while, they're like, "You guys wanna go to the back room?"

We all head to another room of the club where we disrobe and wrap ourselves in white towels.

We head into this new section of the club, where the people are openly - and loudly - having sex with each other. A man, perhaps in his 60s, lies on his back while one young woman rides him, another woman is touching that one, and a man is playing with that one.

Ummm. I don't know quite what I'd expected, but it wasn't that...


TO BE CONTINUED...

Looooong Time

And I guess it doesn't really matter, as I've never publicized this blog and therefore have only one follower - and I thank you :) This is for you, then.

It's been nearly a year since I wrote anything here, and quite a year it has been.

Quite a year.

I'm having a protracted quarter life crisis.
I can't decide where I want to live, how to get to my goals, if I'm ready for a relationship or love, if I'm ready to be responsible or party away the blues... and truthfully, I've reached a point of complete and utter fatigue. I'm exhausted.

A large part of me wants to throw in the towel and say fuck it, I'm going to law school. Do something practical, something with an immediate and definitely lasting impact on the lives of others. Then there's the part of me that's urging me to just move to Miami already (I've spent the past few months in the southeastern U.S. though I reside in Los Angeles) and get pregnant by my boyfriend (he lives here) and he can pretty much take care of us financially - though I understand that it isn't his ideal vision to take care of a woman. Then there's that part of me that's saying give up, you're too scared, you're not as fearless as you pretend. And that girl inside me who doesn't know what to do except drink and party herself into oblivion... and then wake up in the morning like, "who the fuck was I last night? what the fuck did I do that I probably shouldn't have done?" (Luckily, usually nothing except for talking to much and holding hands with guys that I don't really know so that I don't teeter over into the street... but still - said bf would be none too thrilled to know I was holding hands with someone.) Even the bf thing is like sigh... do I REALLY want to be emotionally involved with someone who lives across the country, especially when I have severe trust issues when it comes to relationships? Oh - and did I mention weight? I've gained 11.6 pounds since March. Okay, I lost a bit of it, but I still have a ways to go. I will say, however, that that is oddly the one thing I'm NOT that concerned with. Compared with all of the other issues I have to figure out, that's the easiest one. Alas, that's the one issue that I actually have answers to.

I'm in a perpetual state of asking questions, coming up with lackluster possible answers, then discarding them.

At first, I thought I was alone.

But then I started opening up to my friends about my anxieties and found them to be much more common than I'd expected, I found that this may very simply be...

The curse of the mid-20s.

This awful feeling where you're supposed to decide everything RIGHT NOW. And really, we don't have to. We do have to make decisions and plan and all that, but it doesn't all have to be figured out today.

But today has brought me closer to figuring out what it is that I want...

a short film!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QVwVSZ6u7nI

Today, I fell down

Like, literally.
Like I was getting up from my chair, my leg tangled in my computer cord... and then I just went down. Arms flailing. Twisting at some odd angles as I tried to regain my balance.
I didn't.
In fact, I landed against the wall so hard that my earring popped out. My knees got burned against the carpet.

Though no one actually saw the fall, the sounds were legendary: THUMP, BANG, BOOM, AGGGGGGHHHHHHH.

The coworkers rushed over- OMG! Are you okay?

Hell. YES.

I'm mortified, kind of, but also cracking up inside.
'Cause if it had been someone else, I would have been crying laughing.

Good times.