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moving forward
Monday. 9.21.15 2:27 am

"Check out Tuft & Needle and let me know what you think," he messages, and I do. Looks nice, affordable, and it doesn't look like it will feel like bricks, unlike a certain bed (mine) that I won't mention (but I will and I did, it's my mattress, I hate it and look forward to visiting him because he has a nicer bed than me).

My VSB (very serious boyfriend)* and I are talking about acquiring a larger, comfier mattress, for the place it appears we'll soon both be living in.

Is this weird? I feel like this is weird. I feel too young to be moving in with my boyfriend and going to breweries with him. I'M ONLY TWELVE, I CAN'T POSSIBLY BE OF DRINKING AGE.

As for the last entry...I totally gave up on getting input, because I realized that I should have added a few questions on demographics to the survey. I realized this after going through response hell. Everyone disagreed in their responses--seriously, if there were five responses, each would have come in at 20% selected. The only thing they disagreed on that worked for me was the logo; about half liked the blue background with a pale red-pink heart, and about half liked the blue background with a brighter heart.

"[Bleepin'] easy," I said to myself, and then I just changed the color of the heart to something that represented the best of both worlds--pale, but a bluer pink. That's the only thing I really needed help on (the rest I'll probably just discuss with a few people on a personal basis), so...good. Wonderful. My shop has a logo.

In other news, I start at my new job, most likely, in around ten hours.

I should really be asleep.

They had me fill out the application again because apparently my application expired DURING THE HIRING PROCESS (naturally), so I'm doing that now. I have to call in the morning and see what I need to wear (they might have me just go ahead with training). But hey, after that, I'll be making money and teaching people to apply makeup. Yas.

*My friend Steve who is not midday once told me he got a response text from a girl that said, "LBVS," and he told me that it apparently meant, "Laughing But Very Serious." I'm so into that, guys.

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Regular password--it's just me asking you to take a quick survey
Saturday. 9.19.15 6:50 pm
Be it extremely emotional, controversial, messed up, or whatever, this entry has been password protected.

If you know it, enter it; or, ask me for it.

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Battle Ropes
Thursday. 9.3.15 5:29 pm
I'm up to fifty pounds on the seated cable row, and in a week that might grow to sixty!

My posts on R and how wonderfully great we're doing, so far, have only been a distraction so no one will see MY GIANT BULGING MUSCLES COMING, HA, SURPRISE ATTACK, KA-CHOW.

In the past, I've done a lot of talking about getting myself to the gym and building up my strength and endurance, and then haven't actually followed through. Maybe it's the fact that planning things is fun and sometimes actually starting to do them is not, or maybe there's another reason, but the problem remained the same: I would say that I wanted to get in shape, accomplish this and that, and then...I wouldn't follow through.


So I got a gym membership, and built my way up to going almost every day. I row, I curl, I crunch, and I twist, and then I look in the mirror and go,

I'm starting to see definition, here and there. It's nothing major--I'm not able to flex and impress myself, much less anyone else--but it's a start. A little tiny indent of a cut near my abdomen, evidence of my work on the decline bench and on a captain's chair; a firmer upper back, evidence of my twenty-pound strength increase on the seated cable row; less pain in my leg, evidence of using the elliptical in reverse and constant turns on the abductor and glute kickback machines.

They're small changes, but they make so much difference to me--especially the decrease in right leg pain (I've had BAD chronic pain in that leg for years from a tight IT band).

And I'm just proud of myself. That's nice.

Tonight is my night off after a hard day, yesterday (I hit a PR for time and resistance on the elliptical, hit my PR at 50lbs. on the seated cable row, finished the tricep pushdowns without crying (which is a feat for me), hit a PR for time on the battle ropes, hit a PR for combo weighted decline sit-ups/weighted Russian twists, and kept pushing it on the glutes and abductor)...and I still keep having to talk myself out of getting dressed and heading to the gym for a quick spin on the elliptical.

Exercise just...boosts my mood and my core temperature. We've had to turn the thermostat down a couple degrees so I can even hope to sleep, at night, and my right eye has stopped twitching like an mf-er, which I attribute both to the exercise and to my initiative to stop letting myself avoid things that make me anxious. (Side note: this has worked so well that I haven't taken any of my as-needed anxiety pills in over two weeks, despite having had several job interviews and other stressful days.) I see the gym and I feel something inside me perk up, like a puppy spotting its owner in a crowded room. "Is that...? OMG IT IS. IT'S MY FRIEND THE GYM, HELLO FRIEND, HI I'M COMING."

Meanwhile, I'll be in jeans and flip flops, just running errands, no possibility of going to the gym, at that moment.




I made 60lbs., tonight!

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Smiling: "...Nothing."
Wednesday. 8.26.15 3:16 am

Thursday night, we slide into a booth at a brewery in the center of a gorgeous, deconstructed factory district turned popular hangout. The sun is just setting as we start to look over menus, and it's long set when, in between bites of my burger, I hear a familiar song by Tokyo Police Club over the speakers and look up to talk about it.

Maybe it's the way he carefully showed me around the apartment--opening doors and cupboards to show me exactly where everything was--when I arrived, earlier that day. It could have been his apparent and contagious excitement at seeing me, or the way he chuckled when I let him pay for our lunch, or even how he radiated joy from all the possibilities his life has been bringing him lately, while we walked through the campus gardens, that afternoon. It might have even been the way he chose an outfit based on what I was wearing--how he stood, staring into his closet, until I had a dress picked out for sure, and then took a matching shirt off its hanger--like it was no big deal, like this whole relationship was second nature.

I couldn't tell you which; but in all the days, weeks, months, years I've been in love with him, this moment--filled with comfortable conversation and laughter flowing freely--is by far the moment I love him most.

He furrows his brow at me, across the table; "What?"

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