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I’m posting an awkward, not-the-greatest, self shot, excluding my head (which makes it all the more awkward) to show you a couple things. One, my current weight (not that I’ve posted before photos), and two, one of the shirts I altered. It used to have elastic around the waist with a ruffly hem and had zero shape, and after I lost weight, it looked awful. But I still liked the front design and the colour, so I wanted to save it. Admittedly, I hemmed it shorter than I intended (I got distracted part-way through the job), but I made it a loose fit on purpose, mostly because I still wanted to just be able to pull it on over my head without fussing with buttons. (And those are my awesome size 8 shorts.)
I did lose yet another pound. But it’s slowed down so much that unless I keep losing, I’m not going to worry about it. I want to stay this size, so it is important I maintain, but I’d rather lose by accident than gain.
Well, that’s all for now.
Today I posted an article on facebook about predator pastors. I commented that it was almost exactly like my experience with my ex-mentor from bible college (minus the original attraction she described–my feelings were entirely platonic, as you well know). But, oh my god, it felt like I was reading something I could have wrote. I also felt bold about posting so publicly on facebook, where all of my college friends will know who I am talking about, even though I’ve never told them what happened.
Additionally, today I was again mourning being molested as a young child. I fear physical intimacy as much as I desire it. The only tool I have now is my knowledge, and I do not know how much that will end up helping. I hope significantly. But I really don’t know. Again, I have to wonder how one gets over something they can’t remember consciously, but that their body remembers.
I don’t want to remember these things anymore.
I want to be well and whole.
I want to forget that it was the Church each time. The Body of Christ, who should have protected me.
It’s no wonder my faith has turned inward.
I haven’t posted about the kittens lately… They’re still as cute as ever.
Sophie still likes to curl up in my recycling bin, still enjoys being pet on the rugs in the bathroom (go figure), and still jumps in the tub right after I shower.
Shelby is still my “old lady cat.” She’s fussy and persnickety. And if I try to take a nap on my bed (their bed?), Shelby still comes up to me and slaps my face a few times. I tell myself she is merely checking to see if I’m alive…
And finally, Percy, my sister’s cat, is still a butt head. But a very affectionate one, usually.
Last night, we left some large pieces of wrapping paper on the ground for the kittens (after my dad’s birthday), and the cats went crazy. Sophie, in particular, ran around under the paper, dragging it with her, and making it look like the paper was moving independently. It was fun to watch them.
In the work crush realm, I think things are going well. But time will tell. I didn’t redeem Friday because our Monday interactions were so positive that I decided it was unnecessary.
It is possible that I am way too into him.
I just have to make sure I don’t catch myself running my hands down his chest or something equally as bad/hilarious/potential harassment.
Yes, I just said that online, in public.
God help me.
Last night I went out for drinks with my work crush. I did suggest the actual idea of hanging out, but he worked on figuring the place and suggesting the day. So I do consider it something of a mutual venture.
Of course, I’m not sure if he thought it was a date or not. I would like to think it was a date of some sort, but I’m really not sure. (And again, you know how awful I am at these things.) We were out about 3.5 hours, talking, enjoying each others company. But then the end got a little awkward. And I’m not sure, but I feel like I made it more awkward than necessary, which I blame on insecurity in the situation and extreme tiredness (as I usually would have been sleeping by the time we parted ways).
Around 9:15pm, he says, “Well, should we scram?” Which, incidentally, I took to mean, “Should we part ways?” Although, in retrospect, I wonder if it meant something else… Because, when I said, “Sure,” he looked a bit surprised and responded with, “Really?” And then I was confused, so I backtracked only a little and explained, “It’s not that I want to go, but my feet are freezing and I’m tired.” If he meant something else, I suppose he couldn’t say anything after I said that, and if he didn’t mean something else, then I really have no idea what he meant by his surprise.
Then, as we walked out, I couldn’t figure out what I was supposed to say because I wasn’t sure if he considered it a date or not. I was nervous about giving the date formula of “I had a really good time; we should do it again,” so I did the worse thing of only saying, “I had a really good time; thanks for hanging out.” Oh god. Isn’t that what you say when you have zero intention of seeing them socially again? (And if you think that’s the only stupid thing I said/did in parting, you are wrong. There were many, many more.)
My plan is to go up to him on Monday, and simply state that I did have a really good time and that we should do it again. And let him take it from there.
But, of course, I am concerned that maybe he isn’t interested. Maybe he doesn’t want to see me again outside of work. [He is a cautious guy, which is probably a good thing. I kind of want to just throw caution to the wind, but that's probably not the best idea (unless I can somehow talk him into it, in which case it sounds like an awesome idea to me).]
Why am I so bad at this?
I can’t get enough of this good weather we’re having. The blue skies, the fluffy white clouds, the brilliant green of the surrounding vegetation, the warmth of the sun… It’s delightful.
My birthday’s in a few weeks. I’ll be 31. I doubt that I’ll actually do anything for the occasion this year. But my dad’s building me a clock, mini-grandfather style, from him and Mom. It’s a curio clock, so it has little shelves to put knick-knacks. Here, I found the link online: Curio Grandfather Clock Plan. (It has a picture.) Mine will be a little different, but not much. Just a few aesthetic changes.
In other news, I think I might have to push my proposed move date back just a few weeks until August. I was doing some actual math for my financial goals, and I think I’ll need an extra paycheck or two before I’m ready. But, in the end, a few weeks one way or the other doesn’t signify. The point is that I’m close, so close.
I had other things to say, but I’m tired of being angsty on here. I feel like a broken record. So I’m going to try to talk more about the incidentals, the fun little things of life.
Today I tackled a few mending projects I had waiting in the wings. Three skirts, to be exact. Two were too large, but I wanted to salvage them, and one just needed the liner to be shortened a bit (why oh why is that necessary–it should be made better in the first place).
So I went through all this effort with my most favourite of the skirts, a brown one I got years ago on a day trip with friends. I did a fantastic job, but you know what? I don’t think it’s going to fit right after all. And so now I am sad. (See my sad face?) [Amendment: After being washed, the skirt hangs perfectly! And you can't even tell I altered it, since I did such a kick-ass job. See my happy face?]
I also bought a pair of shorts for summer. And they are size 8. Yes, my friends, it’s true. I can, on occasion, wear size 8 now. God it feels great to have lost weight.
However, I have had a few people say to me to not get too skinny. Can I first say that I have never been too skinny in my life, and it might be kind of nice to have that problem? Regardless, I still feel huge. I look in the mirror or at my body, and I don’t see svelteness, but softness. Blast. (Please don’t tell me I should just work out more. First, I can’t afford the gym. Second, I hate running. Third, you never get all that great looking from just brisk walking. When I move out, I plan to do more exercise videos in the privacy of my own space… yoga, pilates, that sort of thing.)
Last week, week four of work, was great work-wise. But my introverted soul needed to be fed with more alone time than I was able to give it. And that made the week hard. I’m also wrestling with (and/or ignoring?) all kinds of real-life questions, and those take their toll.
Plus, I think my work-crush was flirting with me. But I’m not really sure. And Friday he was all sorts of weird (or I was interpreting things that way), so I don’t know. You know I’m terrible at these things. Regardless, I get ridiculously giddy at times, and it’s embarrassing. Especially if there is zero mutual interest.
I hate angry days, and today has been an angry day.
I am looking forward to moving out for many reasons. A couple that stand out today are that I will have distance from my family (which every 30 year old needs), and that I will be able to find a new group of friends (hopefully with time for me).
I am actually really lonely and sick of being lonely. Significant conversations with people are so far and few between that they can’t possibly feed my soul. And there is almost zero physical touch in my life, which leaves me empty.
God. I hate how I feel today.
I don’t know how to be a Christian anymore.
I mean, I’m still a Christian. I still believe in God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit. My faith in the truth of the Gospel still stands strong.
But I don’t know how to be a Christian anymore.
I don’t know how to associate myself with the Christian culture, nor am I sure I want to do so. I don’t know how to interact with “normal” Christians, who haven’t been trained to interact with their faith in an academic way. I don’t want to interact with the ones who are mean-spirited and close-minded. I believe strongly in the integrity of the Biblical message, yet I am socially liberal in many ways. I don’t know how to integrate this way of thinking into a church setting.
And I’m not sure I care.
Let’s talk about real stuff, in real ways. Let’s stop answering every doubt or question with “You just need to pray about it.” That is the most fucked-up answer you can give someone. It’s not an answer at all. It’s a superficial cop-out.
When I say I’m angry at the men who have wronged me in the past, I do not need anyone telling me I just need to pray more/harder about it. God might be the healer, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to fix you overnight. (Is this assumption another consequence of our microwave culture?) When my friends have struggled with an aspect of their lives for most of their lives and have finally decided to embrace it as part of who they are, they do not need to be told to pray about it, in order to be “fixed.”
If I say I’m not sure I intend to date Christian men anymore, but would rather look for a person that I can be an actual partner with, I don’t need you to tell me to pray about it. I need to be able to have genuine conversations about these things with like-minded people. I need to be able to legitimately talk about the things that I am struggling to understand. I need it to be okay that I’m not sure.
One of my friends encouraged me with the following: God is always faithful, always there, even though he (the friend) is not. God doesn’t let us down, and surprisingly, lets us let him down. Unconditional love. His grace is fully there. And his grace is still there, despite what path we walk.
So let me walk my path. Let others walk theirs. And don’t try to fix us.
Why is it that every man who is interested in me is more of a girl than I am?
That is not fair, perhaps.
I’m not sure if they mistake my non-interest for playing games, but they are so needy, and I’ve never even met this most recent batch. I should just cut them loose and be free. (And currently, one is texting me about Star Wars vs Star Trek because I was stupid enough to give him my number, and he seems to think I want to spend my evening texting him. By and large, I’m ignoring his texts, but that doesn’t seem to make a difference.)
Where are the grown-ups?
I suppose it doesn’t help that there’s that totally attractive guy at work to admire. Who is a real adult. And normal.
Why are normal men so rare? Why is that something to be noted instead of expected?
Week two of my new job is done. I still love it. The people are great. And today I finished organizing my personal space. It only took 9 days… hahaha Now I get to move onto the cupboards and supply areas. Not that anyone’s told me to do this. But it needs to be done. There’s also this guy… But you know, I know that’s a bad idea to even consider, since it’s work, so yeah. (But he is interesting, and attractive, and… what else do you even need after only two weeks?)
And I’ve been on okcupid again, although I’ve ignored almost everyone who’s written to me, since almost all of them have been those lame-ass messages, such as “You’re hot, let’s talk,” or “You have a great smile, let’s go out sometime.” Ugh. And then I’m talking with a couple of others, but I don’t know that I’m even remotely interested in either. Plus they live up here (and one of them farther away in the wrong direction) and I’ll be moving in a few months, so what’s the point? Besides, it’s not like I have any time to be meeting new folk at this point.
I’ve also lost a total of 27 pounds so far and only have 4 more to go. At least, as of last Sunday. I’m feeling great and feeling like I look great. It’s fantastic to be back to my pre-college weight/size.
AND, I think I have my student loan stuff figured out. I just have to apply for the right programs, and it looks like my loan payments will be affordable! Thank God. I might even have enough money in my budget to get health insurance!! I will be living a life of luxury soon.
Alright, that’s it for now.