T-Bex the Mighty

I keep trying to write something that I feel.  Something that makes sense to me, but all that makes sense to me right now is cost of goods sold and maybe my cats.  Maybe.  They've surrounded me, as it's almost dinner time, and they think if they're annoying enough maybe I'll feed 'em early.  They're not wrong either. My mind is this mushy mess of work and self discovery.  I'm sort of. . . stuck. Which I guess isn't always a bad thing.  Maybe I'm supposed to be here for a minute, take in the view.  There's a lot of this part of life that I haven't discovered yet.  There's parts of my brain that want to be explored right now, and I'm finding it difficult.  I've tasked myself to find the things that I can do that will nourish me.  Not just my body, that's pretty easy.  Eat food, move your body, get rest.  That's not actually that difficult. Well, it is.  But it also isn't. It's easy to make it difficult and be i...

I keep telling myself I'm going to write.  I have this outlet here, and I've posted 14 times.  I have 15 unfinished entries.  Just sitting there, waiting to go. I have things to say. I can't seem to do it. WHY? Because.  I'm too busy.  My mind is elsewhere.  I have more important things to do.  Dan needs me.  My cats need me.  Work needs me.  My time is better spent being productive.  Dishes.  Laundry.  Cat boxes.  Netflix.  Dinner. I have a file in my brain just for excuses. I use them when I feel like maybe, just maybe, it doesn't matter if I say anything. I use them when I feel like I might not be good enough to speak, to take up virtual space. But then Leslie Feinberg dies.  She died. My heart is a little broken and I didn't even know that much about her, let alone know her. Pronouns are a little tricky here because of Leslie's nature. I don't have the mental space to educate you al...

Dear Dieters, Let me start out by saying that I don't know what it's like to be fat in this society.  Obviously I'm fairly thin, so I don't have to deal with the social shaming and judgment that goes on based solely on weight. I can buy inexpensive, cute, clothes pretty much anywhere I go.  I'm not bragging.  I'm saying that I've never been in your shoes, and I imagine it sucks on a pretty regular basis.  People are mean and they probably treat you differently than they treat me, and that's not cool.  In fact, its downright wrong.   But. . . There's always a but, right?  But here's the thing guys:  I DO know that being skinny doesn't fix it.  It doesn't fix anything (except maybe the clothes thing).  I've been thin my whole adult life, and I still feel judged for my body.  I'm not happier.  I'm not sexier.  I'm just smaller.  That's all you'll be when/if you lose weight. A few things most people don'...

I've had this in my head for a while, and I've been hesitant to talk about it.  Like most things I spew onto the webpages of this here blog, it's deeply personal and rather uncomfortable to talk about.  But, also much like most of the things on this blog, I see no reason to fear the discomfort. What I am is afraid of hurting people's feelings. I've always been afraid of that.  It is my biggest fear. Because of that I have spent a good part of my life being a people pleaser. That said, I think people pleasers are sad, miserable people who will never meet their true potential because they hold themselves back. I think most of us can sort of agree with that, right?  Whether it be failure or speaking in front of a crowd, our fears hold us back.  People pleasing is just the fear of hurting other people's feelings or disappointing an imaginary ideal we believe other people  have of us. I've noticed lately, which is one of the reasons I want to write thi...

Howdy there, just me.  It's ramble time. I got sick a few weeks ago.  It started out as a flu/cold like thing with a lot of congestion and traveled to the digestive system.  It was mainly awful.  I was out of work for a few days, and I have to be really  sick to stay home from work. I'm mostly better now, my body is still healing a little but its doing ok.  Something happens though, almost every time I'm sick, that I'm going to be recovering from for a while yet: I relapse. Yup, every time. I get sick, and then suddenly without even realizing its happened, I come to the realization that I've been skipping meals and eating portions too small for toddlers. I think a big part of it, for me, is that for me to be comfortable eating, eating has to be comfortable, enjoyable even.  If I can't taste the food (like when my sinuses were a mess), what's the point of wasting my precious time eating it?  Then my stomach was a mess, and lord help me, t...

I like my simple life. It's calm. Afternoons spent sitting. Watching cats play. Listening to the man next to me wording. Drinking margaritas. Watching the sky be the sky. Listening to music I've never heard before. Planning adventures only I can imagine. Being who I am. Living here, now. Footloose. Loving all the parts of everything. Seriously. Loving them. Barefoot. Sleeveless. BRALESS!!! Proud of where I have been, because I'm not there anymore. A future pregnant with hope. Hope, hope, futile hope. Happy hope. Daydream hope. You know what I mean. Hash tag simple life. Hash tag hope.

I'm sure I appear to be a very public person.  I am unashamed of my personal downfalls and will gladly post it all over the internet for the universe to see.  I'll tell anyone about my mood on any given day, and no one will deny that I will tell you exactly what I think about any situation. In reality though, I'm a surprisingly private person.  Through my life I have found that my raw, unfiltered emotions tend to overwhelm people, and they become uneasy around me.  For some things, I enjoy making people uneasy.  To me, it makes them examine their own lives and perspectives on things.  If you read things I say though, I tend to have a clinical, removed way of speaking about things.  I don't allow my emotions to cloud the words I say.  This means that I leave a lot unsaid.  Which is ok, honestly.  I'm quite capable of caring for myself, especially when it comes to my emotional health. If you saw me right now, you wouldn't recognize me....

I'm guessing most of the people who read this follow me on facebook, but for anyone who doesn't I recently posted this: "Can we talk about how much I like myself? I find it to be almost troublesome in this world, because it seems like there's so many people all around telling me not to. "Party girls get fat," "I wish I didn't have thunder thighs," "I don't eat carbs," "you're not good enough until you give it 110%!" Are things we all see, hear, and tell each other constantly. I'm fucking sick of it. Guess what self-haters and judgers-of-others, I genuinely like myself. From my party girl beer gut to my messy house. I'm awesome. Deal with it. (and maybe leave room in your own life to just exist in a place of happiness. Just sayin.)" It was received well, as most confident things are.  However, there's so much more to it than just me being pissed off that society has a penchant for holding confident...