Bring it on.

So there has been a lot of stuff happening to try and make an improvement on my life.

I'm house hunting at the moment, and have found a place I really like. Just hope I get it. Waiting to hear back within the next few days.

I've cut off all the relationship ties, they were just way too confusing. And although they still frustrate me, I'm slowly working on not letting it get to me.

A friend and I have started a weight loss competition to both get down to our healthy weight range - The closest gets $50... 1 and a half kilos down... 20 to go!

After finally throwing my old doctor in the trash, I am seeing a new doctor, and in one session, he has already given me more advice than my old doctor ever gave me.

So, starting in the next couple of weeks - (It's difficult to do something this drastic when you live with other people - will get easier once I'm out of the house) I'm cutting out all the foods that could be impacting on my health. Extreme, I know. But we both agreed cutting everything out then slowly reintroducing it will help assess and kick start my body into looking after itself, without having to continue pumping it with synthetic hormones and medications.

I'll be cutting out:
- Yeast
- Sugar
- Carbohydrates
- Preserved Food
- Alcohol
AND - Caffeine.

Doesn't sound so hard... and wouldn't be so hard if it was just carbs, considering I LOVE cheese and meat... Lol.. But Yeast and sugar...? Eek. That cuts out most dairy things too.

I'm limited to basically Meat, Fish, Tofu, Nuts, Vegetables, Rice and select Fruit (with less fructose).

Going to be difficult. But I'm doing it for me. Plus, it will be a big boost to my weight loss. :D
It would be almost impossible to make sure that I never eat any of it. But I'm going to make as much of an effort as I can. :D

I've been walking and exercising daily, and it's cut down on the girls time in front of the TV and increased her time outside, which is always a plus.

So I'm hoping this will bring everything together so I'll be content and happy. No more health issues, no more bitter relationships, freedom and self confidence. :) Bring it on.....

Oh wow.

My opinion of you, which was already the lowest of the low, has somehow managed to get lower.
Not only were you the reason that things got bad between my ex and I...
But now you are flirting with my most recent ex? That you only met through me?

What... the... fuck.

Not impressed with the other side of the equation either. Seriously? One week you want me, and only me (as a lovely facebook status says) and now you are flirting with the person that I specifically told you I wasn't fond of?

Just goes to show people really don't give a shit.

I had to stop myself last night from hacking my hair off. I stopped at the fringe.
Now I'm seriously considering getting my nose pierced.
Delayed teenage reaction to stress... FTW!

...

The well known. 

It's all a haze of confusion. I get myself to a point where I know what I want and what I'm aiming for, then you do a switch again and it all becomes too confusing. Do you want me or not? Don't leave me hanging. Because I was ready to tell you I want to move on, because I hate feeling this way. I need to build up trust with you again, and if you really do want this, you have to make an effort to help me build it.
I can't continue on this track. Something has to change soon, because I'm heading towards a fork in the road and a part of me is ready to take the unknown path, just to see what happens.
I could take the path well travelled. Heck, I want to take that path. But my heart and my head are not working as one. And I've learnt that they need to, otherwise it will just never work.
I'm making a stand. I've learnt my lessons. So you have to do a lot for me to choose the known path again. It won't be the same.


The missed.

I miss you. Just the good times. I hated the bad times. You made me so down on myself and my body. But I miss the fun weekends we had, the fun things we got up too. But you never did what you said you would, I always wound up forking out when you said I wouldn't have too and I never felt beautiful, even when you said it to me. I have to remember that.



I've reached a point where my heart is completely barricaded. I don't want to get hurt again.

My Gut Instinct

Is telling me not to trust you. You are saying all the mature things, but a part of me thinks you are doing it all so you have the freedom to do things with her again. And my gut hasn't been wrong before. One day you wanted me, the next day you didn't want anything serious and you didn't want to commit to not sleeping with other people. I want someone who will make that commitment. Obviously, even though I thought you were, you aren't the one.

Stephen.

So, I’ve been reading Stephen Fry’s Autobiography, “Moab is my Washpot” and I must say that everything that made me love him, has been ingrained more-so whilst reading this book. I’m so in awe of him, his prattling ways, his opinions, his writing capabilities. No man will ever awe me the way this man does.

This following LONG entry, is a few pages out of this said book (NONE of it is my writing, all rights are Stephen Fry’s and I am only showing it off because I agree wholeheartedly!) where he explains his feelings about homophobia.

I am hugely against Homophobia, and this amazed me when I read it. Stephen, you are a wonderful man. If you haven’t read this book, I suggest you go get it and check it out, now.

“My own view is that most homophobia, if one wants to use that rather crummy word, has almost nothing to do with sex.

‘But have you any idea what these people actually do?’

Self-righteous members of the House of Commons loved standing to ask that question during our last parliamentary debate on the age of homosexual consent.

‘Shit-stickers, that’s what they are. Let’s be clear about that. We’re talking about sodomy here.’

Oh, no you aren’t. You think you are, but you aren’t, you know.

Buggery is far less prevalent in the gay world than people suppose. Anal sex is probably not much more common in homosexual encounters than it is in heterosexual.

Buggery is not at the end of the yellow brick road somewhere over the homosexual rainbow, it is not the prize, the purpose, the goal or fulfilment of homosexuality. Buggery is not the achievement which sees homosexuality move from becoming into being; buggery is not homosexuality’s realisation or destiny. Buggery is as much a necessary condition of homosexuality as the ownership of a Volvo estate car is a necessary condition of middle-class family life, linked irretrievably only in the minds of the witless and the cheap. The performance of buggery is no more inevitable a part of homosexuality than an orange syllabub is an inevitable part of a dinner: some may clamour for it instantly and instantly demand a second helping, some are not interested, some decide they will try it once then instantly vomit.

There are plenty of other things to be got up to in the homosexual world outside the orbit of the anal ring, but the concept that really gets the goat of the gay-hater, the idea that really spins their melon and sickens their stomach is that most terrible and terrifying of all human notions, love.

That one can love another of the same gender, that is what the homophobe really cannot stand. Love in all eight tones and all five semitones of the word’s full octave. Love as agape, Eros and Philos; love as romance, friendship and adoration; love as infatuation, obsession and lust; love as torture, euphoria, ecstasy and oblivion (this is beginning to sound like a Calvin Klein perfume catalogue); love as need, passion and desire.

All the rest of it, parking your dick up an arse, slurping at a helmet, whipping, frotting, peeing, pooing, squatting like a dog, dressing up in plastic and leather – all these go on in the world of boy and girl too: and let’s be clear about this, they go on more – the numbers make it so. Go into a sex shop, skim some pornography, browse the Internet for a time, talk to someone in the sex industry. You think homosexuality is disgusting? Then, it follows, it follows as the night the day, that you find sex disgusting, for there is nothing done between two men or two women that is, by any objective standard, different from that which is done between a man and a woman.

What is more, one begs to ask of those Tony Marlowes and Peregrine Worsthornes and Paul Johnsons, have the gut to Enquire Within. Ask yourselves what thoughts go through your head when you masturbate. If the physical act and its detail is so much more important to you than love, then see a doctor, but don’t spew out your sickness in column inches, it isn’t nice, it isn’t kind, it isn’t Christian.

And if the best you can do is quote the Bible in defence of your prejudice, then have the humility to be consistent. The same book that exhorts against the abomination of one man lying with another also contains exhortions against the eating of pork and against menstruating women daring to come near holy places. It’s no good functionistically claiming that kosher diet had its local, meteorological purposes now defunct, or that the prejudice against ovulation can be dispensed with as superstition, the Bible that you bash us with tells you that much of what you do is unclean: don’t pick and choose with a Revealed Text – or if you do, pick and choose the good bits, the bits that say things like ‘Let he who is without sin cast the first stone’ or ‘Love thy neighbour as thyself’.

And please, whatever you do, don’t tell us that what we do, either in love or lust, is unnatural. For one thing if what you mean by that is that animals don’t do it, then you are quite simply in factual error.

There are plenty of activities or qualities we could list that are most certainly unnatural if you are so mad as to think that humans are not part of nature, or so dull-witted as to believe that ‘natural’ means ‘all creatures but human nature’: mercy, for example, is unnatural, an altruistic, non-selfish careand love or other species is unnatural; charity is unnatural, justice is unnatural, virtue is unnatural, indeed – and this surely is the point – the idea of virtue is unnatural, within such a foolish, useless meaning of the word ‘natural’. Animals, poor things, eat in order to survive: we, lucky things, do that too, but we also have Abbey Crunch biscuits, Armagnac, selle d’agneau, tortilla chips, sauce béarnaise, Vimto, hot buttered crumpets, Chateau Margaux, ginger-snaps, risotto nero and peanut-butter sandwiches – these have nothing to do with survival and everything to do with pleasure, connoisseurship and plain old greed.

Animals, poor things, copulate in order to reproduce: we, lucky things, do that too, but we also have kinky boots, wank-mags, leather thongs, peep-shows, statuettes by Degas, bedshows, Tom of Finland, escort agencies and the Journals of Anais Nin – these things have nothing to do with reproduction and everything to do with pleasure, connoisseurship and plain old lust. We humans have opened up a wide choice of literal and metaphorical haute cuisine and junk food in many areas of our lives, and as punishment, for daring to eat the fruit of every tree in the garden, we were expelled from the Eden the animals still inhabit and we were sent away with the two great Jewish afflictions to bear as our penance: indigestion and guilt.

I will apologise for many things that I have done, but I will not apologise for the things that should never be apologised for. It is a little theory of mine that has much exercised my mind lately, that most of the problems of this silly and delightful world derive from our apologising for those things which we ought not to apologise for, and failing to apologise for those things for which apology is necessary.

For example none of the following is shameful and deserves apology, in spite of our suicidal attempts to convince ourselves otherwise:

·         To possess a rectum, a urethra and a bladder and all the pertain thereto.

·         To cry.

·         To find anything or anyone of any gender, age or species sexually attractive.

·         To find anything or anyone of any gender, age or species sexually unattractive.

·         To insert things in one’s mouth, anus or vagina for the purpose of pleasure.

·         To masturbate as often as one wishes. Or not.

·         To swear.

·         To be filled with sexual desires that involve objects, articles or parts of the body irrelevant to procreation.

·         To fart.

·         To be sexually unattractive.

·         To love.

·         To ingest legal or illegal drugs.

·         To smell of oneself and one’s juices.

·         To pick one’s nose.

I spend a lot of time tying knots in my handkerchief reminding myself that those are things not to be ashamed of, so long as they are not performed in sight or sound of those who would be pained – which also holds true of Morris dancing, talking about Terry Pratchett and wearing velour and many other harmless human activities. Politeness is all.

But, I fear I spend far too little time apologising or feeling ashamed about things which really do merit sincere apology and outright contrition.

·         Failing to imagine what it is like to be someone else.

·         Pissing my life away.

·         Dishonesty with self and others.

·         Neglecting to pick up the phone or write letters.

·         Not connecting made or processed objects with their provenance.

·         Judging life without facts.

·         Using influence over others for my own ends.

·         Causing pain.

I will apologise for faithlessness, neglect, deceit, cruelty, unkindness, vanity and meanness, but I will not apologise for the urgings of my genitals nor, most certainly, will I ever apologise for the urgings of my heart. I may regret those urgings, rue them deeply and occasionally damn, blast and wish them to hell, but apologise – no: not where they do no harm. A culture that demands people apologise for something that is not their fault: that is as good a definition of a tyranny as I can think of. We British are not, praise the Lord, in Stalinist Russia, Nazi Germany or Baptist Alabama, but that does not mean, and has never meant, that we must therefore reside in the fields of Elysium.

Bloody hell, I do rattle on, don’t I?”

(Copyright Stephen Fry 1997, “Moab is my Washpot”, Published in 1998 by Arrow Books, pages 250-256)

Day 30

Due to the fact that my internet has been shaped, I have been having difficulties getting on to blog lately.

So here is the late last post for the 30 day photo challenge.

Day 30. A picture of someone you miss.

 

My dad. I will always love you and miss you.

Day 29

Day 29 - A picture that always makes you smile.

Day 28

Day 28 - A picture of something you're afraid of.

Being alone for the rest of my life.

Day 27

Day 27 - A picture of yourself and a family member.
My beautiful aunty. :)

Day 26

Day 26 - A picture of something that means a lot to you.
Good times with my friends. :)

Day 25

Day 25 - A picture of your day.
I'm really far behind, but on that particular day, this was my day. We spent the whole day together and had a lot of great times. :)

Mother's always know best.

Wise words from a beautiful woman.

Each person is responsible for his or her own happiness.

You needn't feel guilt or obligation in regard to other people.

It isn't your fault if you inadvertantly made them unhappy.

They are only relating to you according to their own past experiences and their own processes.
Truly, it is not someone else's decision as to whether you are a good or kind or loving person.

If you and your soul intend to be good and kind and loving and gentle, and even if you are those things and others don't see it, it's their shortsightedness.

 It is not you.

My Intention for today is:

I Intend that I am always seeing myself in my highest light.

You get to a point where you realise, you just can't deal with someone so young.

I get so angry when all this shit is happening and I can't escape. Yet you can go off and drink, party and have a great time, saying that you wish you were here to help. Saying that and actually meaning it are two different things.

I can't escape. I'm stuck with it, and I would kill to be able to just go drink and forget about it.

Take some responsibility for our screw up.

Days 23 and 24

Day 23 - A picture of your favorite book.

The Mortal Instruments Series. <3

Day 24 - A picture of something you wish you could change.

Connecting already.

Day 22

A picture of something you wish you were better at.

Communicating how I feel.

Days 20 and 21

Day 20 - A picture of somewhere you'd love to travel.

All over Europe. 

 
Day 21 - A picture of something you wish you could forget.

This year so far - except for the times with Saria. It's just been a roller coaster and I wish I could change so many decisions I've made, so many things I've done. 

I worked out today that the way you are treating me, is not the way I want to be treated.
It's hard to feel wanted when you look at others more.
It's hard to read the things you say to other girls.
It's hard to be around you.
I'm not going to let this happen anymore.
I'm going to stand up for myself.
Because I want to be wanted because I am me, not because I'm a root.

I miss

being someone's everything.

Day 19

Day 19 - A picture of yourself as a baby.

Officially up to date.

Day 18

Day 18 - A picture of your biggest insecurity.

My body.

Day 17

Day 17 - A picture of something that has made a huge impact on your life recently.
Having a child.
:)

Day 16

Day 16 - A picture of someone who inspires you.
Stephen Fry. For all the reasons behind why I'd also like to be him for a day.