Mission Me

I'm just an average girl sitting in her bedroom in bright yellow spanks and a tank top feeling the weight of her weight. I am making a promise so that I can outdo all the other "promises" and healthy bullshit I have posted here before. I'm on a mission for health, a mission for me. It is called "Mission Me" in fact, and I'm doing it for only one person in this entire world.
I want to feel good about myself, I want to stop crawling in my own skin and instead, stand up tall and proud in it. I'm tired of feeling less than and ALWAYS compelled to compare myself to every other female around me (for better OR worse). This is day 1 of Mission Me, and thus far, my belly and my brain are at odds. One asks for sweets and the other forewarns and demands greatness of me. I want peace of mind and body. Mission Me requires time, it's not something that is easy nor is it something that will come within a day or two. Discipline, dedication, and hard work are the three main requirements, and because I have friends on board with me and the "lose it" app on my phone, I believe I can do it. I'm not going to post recipes, healthy choices I've made, or plans on here anymore, I'm going to write freely and mention progress being made. I can give all the bells and whistles required to build a better me, but if I'm not getting results then what's the point?
I've set Mission Me into gear as of today and plan to power through so that I no longer have to cover up at the beach, feel "gross", and mentally degrade myself with every bite of food. I'm setting myself free, because under this extra weight is the confident and bright person I know that I am. Sounding corny? That's because I'm telling the truth for the first time. I want to wear floral jeans too! I want those neon cut-off shorts, and I want to wear a bandeau without looking like it's only there for censorship. I don't want my thighs to rub each other so severely that they nearly set on fire, I want to be 100% capable of being a bright spot on this planet instead of wasting my prime on being insecure. Admittedly, as I write this, I'm becoming increasingly anxious, but I think that's a good thing. This is not a challenge to be taken lightly, because it's something I'm doing for myself. This is Mission Me.

Let's GO

I'm ready to go.
I'm ready for that trip to U-Haul for cardboard boxes to fill with my things. I'm ready for panicking over not being able to find my phone charger, my favorite stuffed animal, and all of my jewelry. I'm ready for the phone call I'll make to my new home to let them know I'll be on my way. I'm ready to be on my way, up the coast, fidgeting in my seat with nerves and excitement. I'm ready to turn the corner onto whichever street our apartment ends up being on and seeing my roommate excited to have her living companion. I cannot wait.
I'll work one more month before putting in my two weeks notice, which essentially means that I only have 16 shifts left at the diner. That's weird to me. I feel like I'm stuck to that place by the very grease it creates. I'm ready to get phone calls from home- my friends asking to come and visit for a week, my mom worrying about how much studying I've been doing, and my siblings asking when I'll be visiting. I'm excited for parties, boys, late nights, walks in the parks, Union Square shopping, paying bills (for now, I want to feel independent), job hunting, working, living, loving, and creating a sub-family, if you will. I'm excited to send true Ghirardelli chocolates home and watching street performers. I cannot wait.
I'm nervous to leave my best friend, who just lost her mother unexpectedly. No one saw it coming, and I'm afraid to leave her so soon. I'm afraid to leave my mom who I've learned to appreciate ten times more since my friend lost hers. I'm afraid to be alone when my roommate and I argue and I'm afraid to watch him fall in love with someone else. I'm afraid to walk alone at night and to sleep alone in the house when both my roommates have places to go and people to see. I'm afraid of not having Disney movies playing when I'm afraid, and I'm worried that I'll not get to play piano for a very long time. These things are worrisome, but not so much that they dampen my yearning. More than anything, I'm anxious to start over. I'm ready to be someone that no one, except for a few, knows. No one knows me there...how weird is that? I can be pretty much anyone, I can cut off all of my hair, lose 30lbs, and talk with an accent if I wanted to. (I won't talk with an accent). I can meet people that I never thought I would, go places that I never expected to, and learn things that they never taught in school. I'm so excited that it's bursting out of my veins. It's literally pumping blood and circulating it within my body.
Going to work has been tedious and tiring without him there because I feel like my buddy carried most of the positive energy in the place. No one else brings that, and even when I try, my co-workers think I'm manic. I try to tell myself that I'm making money, but then people don't tip well and complain about the spinach and then it's no longer worth the money. I can't wait to work somewhere that's not open 24/7 where I can go home at a decent hour and where I won't have to make 1,000 milkshakes in one shift for a bunch of greedy teenagers. I'll miss its lax atmosphere more than anything, but with that comes many hassles.
Of course, I'll miss my best friends from Orange County, I'll miss them because they're the only ones that make me truly bust a gut. I can laugh whole-heartedly and without reserve when I'm with them, something I ought to do more often, and something I'm not sure my roommate and I are capable of. I'm going to miss driving around, going to our places, and just hanging out. I feel the moments with them, but I have to learn to do that from a little further away.
I'm so excited.

So Far...

Today ended my first year of jr. college. Not as big of a milestone as some, but nevertheless, it is done. My finals won the battle and I'm not certain that my grades will scream "WINNER!" at me and jump for joy whilst showering me with names like "Wonderful Queen of Smarts" and "Her Majesty of Knowledge". I'd rather have a  seat in the Narnian court anyways.
Aside from teaching myself all the words to "Just a Friend" by Biz Markie and Booker T, I've not even begun to get into the summer swing. It doesn't feel like summer because there's so much to do! T- two months and I'll hopefully be sleeping in our new apartment in San Francisco. Between now and then I have to pay credit card bills, work, say goodbye to one of my best friends whom i'll see in July, lose weight, schedule a counseling appointment to get all my credits transferred to City College, and take a short weekend trip to SF to check out my future school. Like I said: A. LOT. to be done. Meanwhile, I've been taking boxing classes and having a hell of a lot of fun with it. Last night I was allowed in the ring with the guys and got knocked over the head pretty hard, but lest we forget that I also kicked my opponent in the head several times!! It was fun, and there's a really sweet (and good looking) guy in the class whom I'd like to start to get to know better, you know, right before I move away...makes sense to me. Today, I'm dedicating the day to relaxation after a year of schooling and to start myself off, I'm going to the beach, completely concerned with the way my body looks, but also in a rocking dress I just bought from Target. YES.

Boxer Boxin'

Last night I took a boxing class. I was nervous as it is a class largely comprised of men, in fact, the reason I was "recruited" was to make the only girl in the class feel more comfortable.
It was a fuggin' blast. My years of karate came back to me naturally and with full force- muscle memory at its best. I was eager and fiesty, ready to get in the ring with the guys (although they didn't allow me to) and the workout it gave me was fantastic. I haven't sweat that much in years! Afterwards I couldn't feel the stress of finals so much, my complicated love life, or worries about moving. They'd been numbed by the adrenaline and the endorphins lifted me up. I'm excited to go back next Tuesday and hopeful that I'll be able to give those guys a run for their money.

Fainter, Artist, Thinker

I get sore when I think about how quickly everything is coming at me. I get saddened by songs that play over my speakers and completely wrecked by a change in disposition. I sit up at night- tight in the stomach and wait for something cool to wash over me and to ease my caustic worrying. I'm completely bemused by my own idiocy and by the way I let things openly affect me. I let things under my own skin and let them sit there to form a lump so that I can pick and poke at it until I bleed red all over my sleeves. I feel like it's pretty apparent, the way I feel, the way I am, and by the way I won't let got that I've submerged big bits of myself into an acidic environment that lifts me just high enough that the fall alone will crush my bones and keep me alive in stagnant misery. The thing is that I'm happier than ever. I'm happy to cause myself emotional pain at the expense of being loved in such a quiet way. I feel loved, I feel allowed in, and welcomed to be whoever it is that I am. I feel safe in even the weirdest dreams and tied along so as not to get left behind completely.
I fainted in a dream yesterday afternoon and breathlessly called out a name, a name attached to the person who came to my aid and lifted my limp body to a comfy place and tucked me in. They covered me and made me feel warm with words and with a kiss on the cheek. The vividness is electric and keeps me from dreaming anymore. I felt completely contented in my ailment and undeniably in love with my savior for just being there.

Pumpkin

This morning I baked (and am waiting for it to come out of the oven), a chocolate pumpkin cake. You can find the recipe here. I found it whilst perusing the list of "pumpkin deserts" to try and find something that would tantalize the senses of my pumpkin-loving roommate.This is the one I ran across and because it looked rather simple (the simplest of the bunch) I decided to give it a go. Luckily I had over-bought ingredients for my day of baking on Wednesday that turned out a dozen muffins, two dozen chocolate chip cookies, three extra bags of flour (two of which are in my car still), two boxes of sugar, a new bottle of vanilla, three packages of butter, baking soda, baking powder, and a two-pound bag of pecans. I tried to shoot-over and then found myself buried in baking supplies. After coming home from the gym I decided that what the hell , I'd utilize these extra ingredients and bake this pumpkin cake to see how it turned out .I flitted through the online recipe building the orange batter step by step and finally realizing that I had been in the zone, if you will, the entire time I baked as I listened to the Otis Redding station on Pandora (super awesome station by the way) and in my underwear. The cake is now in the oven for a little over an hour. Everything is perfect when I bake, everything is fun, lively, sweet, smooth, fast, and satisfying. I think this is what I'm meant to do and so I shall continue to do it. I've been selling my baked goods and am putting the word out about my bakery that I someday hope to open. I'm getting excited and so have changed my major to business so that I can know how to run one. ;)
Adieu.