Kinda Chunky, Still Pretty Funky

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I’m starting to learn personally that the sexiest thing anyone can wear is their confidence.

About five years ago, I decided to go on a dirty bulk and gained 10lbs. Even though I knew the reason I was doing it, I was so insecure about it and with the emotional history at the time… It wasn’t the best thing to do. Since then my weight has fluctuated around there. For a long time, I felt like I failed my body and myself. Like, how could I so stupidly give up something good?

I’m an impulsive person. When my emotions are on the bad end, those impulses can be reckless. Over the years, I’ve learned to dull the urge to act on them. There are still moments where I’d like to just say fuck it and self-sabotage myself but I’m careful to remind myself it’s because punishing myself is my default. I can spiral deep into that punishment if I’m not careful. My gluttony can be pretty shameful.

I’m very slowly learning to let go of wanting to be leaner. Like, it’s not something I need to chase to feel good and if I do, it should be a positive thing. That it’s okay to accept where I am and stop trying to squeeze into a past that I can’t consistently keep. To not hate or be disgusted at myself for it. To embrace it with confidence.

It’s not easy. I think it’s not easy because my face gets rounder and my tits aren’t big. I convince myself the proportions are off. In reality, they’re not. I’ve just spent more time working against them instead of with them. There are curves. There’s a booty. I work hard at the gym. Why am I mad?

Right now I’m still chunky. I’m waiting for my eyebrows and blush lips to heal from touch ups. My hair lost length to the trim. I’m definitely not turning heads with my physical state but I’m feeling pretty fresh about myself. I’m trusting the process of things while still taking steps forward. I’m genuinely been able to look at myself and be feeling it. I feel it in the way I’ve been dressing as well. I think this is what feeling secure with myself is meant to feel like and I’m all here for it.

My Dumb Review: Halloween (2018)

Jamie Lee Curtis and Nick Castle in Halloween (2018)

I think I’ve seen all, if not most, of the Halloween movies. I can’t remember most of them though. I vaguely remember H20 and Resurrection but only in a nostalgic pop culture way because I’ve watched pretty much every movie during the late 90s-early 2000s. I could beat the shit out of anyone in movie trivia for that period. Or anything related during this time. It’s my jam.

Big ups on Jamie Lee Curtis on reviving the role of Laurie Strode throughout 40 years since the original but it should’ve stopped at H20. JLC even knew this. She called Resurrection a joke and did it for contractual obligation, not interest. I want to know what she thought after making this latest one. I want to know if or what she said to Jake Gyllenhaal (who convinced her to revive her role) when she finished. Can she trust his judgment after this? Was it for Danny McBride (of Eastbound & Down fame, who was a writer for this movie)? Was it worth it for any of them to make it happen? I want to sit in a room with the three of them and have a discussion.

Watching this movie stressed me out. It stressed me out the way “Train to Busan” did but instead of getting really upset with one character, it’s the whole movie. White people in horror movies stress me out. The things they do in horror movie stress me out. I get invested sometimes with the stress and yell at whatever screen I’m watching it on. My reaction can be a mixture of melodramatic and frustration.

This franchise should have ended at H20. For fuck’s sake, she decapitated him in that one. It was already pushing it making another one after that.

Spoiler Questions: 

  • If Michael Myers survived a house fire in Resurrection, why is he getting finished the same way again? Do you really think it stopped him this time? Like actually? Because Laurie set that shit off this time?
  • Why make this movie and discontinue the storyline of Michael and Laurie being brother and sister? Why have her so obsessed about this moment coming if you take this connection out? Also, if it’s neither a remake or reboot, and rather, a recalibration… why the fuck was shit so glossed if she’s that obsessed until ha, ha, ha, she told you so?
  • If Laurie can blow his fucking fingers off… WHY DIDN’T THEY TRY TO CHOP AT HIM AND THEN CHOP HIM DEAD INTO PIECES SO THEY CAN SLEEP SOUNDLY KNOWING HE AIN’T COMING BACK?
  • James Jude Courtney consulted real-life killers to make the killings more believable… BUT THEN HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN WHEN MICHAEL STRAIGHT UP STOMPED THAT DUDE’S HEAD AND IT JUST SMASHED LIKE A PUMPKIN?

There were moments at the beginning and some of the middle that felt like a homage to the old movies. But as the movie progressed towards the end, it started feeling like, fuck it, let’s make this showdown but let’s try to make it a family function. It didn’t tie together. It felt unnecessarily thrown together. They should’ve just picked one or the other. Some of the scenes that lead to deaths felt like the climax for optimizing kills fell just short of satisfaction.

JLC didn’t want Laurie Strode and Michael to keep going after H20 yet she’s reprised it twice now. There are rumors of a sequel. If you didn’t want to make two movies out of this like it was originally intended then leave the sequel and just put this franchise to rest until a reboot happens which, judging by how they go these days, should be by next year.

I never intended for these feelings or thoughts when I started the movie and looked up the trivia. But here we are, over 600 words later.

 

 

Mindless Jots

  • For the first time in a long time, my hair feels healthy. I don’t think I even remember the last time it felt healthy. I got most of the damage trimmed off without losing too much length. There’s still a tiny bit left but I’m not going to fuss. I can’t stop touching how healthy it feels. Just in time for the coming New Years. I’ve already decided I’m going to achieve good hair for this year.
  • Why are some recipe sites like reading a book? Why does it take at least three or four flicks before I can get to the good stuff? I don’t care for your inspiration for the dish, Sophia. Just give me the instructions.
  • Every day I tell myself I’m going to stretch more and every day I don’t. I can’t tell if I’m more flexible than last year or not. I always gauge by whether or not I can still do the splits and while I can, it’s not going to matter come calisthenic season if I can’t do a proper handstand.
  • I currently have no distractions. I also have no patience. I’m allowing myself to feel annoyed when the reasons are fair. This insecurity that’s been deep in me is beginning to uproot.
  • I need to make friends who enjoy going to karaoke rooms. I miss those. I have a karaoke itch I need to scratch. I just want to drunkenly sing love ballads to people.
  • I thought these jots were going to go better than they are. They’re not.

I Found My Socializing Atmosphere

Image result for strippers

Years ago, I saved up two to three years worth of American dollar bills. It was my stripper fund. I ended up saving up a good chunk. I was determined to get down to Portland and give it all away to strippers. Why? Because of this conversation:

Friend: You have to go to Portland and see the strippers there. They’re amazing.
Me: I’m not really a strip club type of person.
F: No, I’m telling you. You’ll have so much fun.
M: Eh… I don’t know about that.
F: I fell in love with a stripper and she broke my heart.
M: WHAT? I want that experience!

I made it a goal to make it to Portland, just for the strippers. It was a goal that was accomplished. It was stripper fund absolutely well-spent. I immersed myself at the same strip club for two nights and forgot about my friends. I fell in love with a stripper on stage and my heart stayed intact. This trip is still one of my favorite life memories. It wasn’t even a rambunctious weekend. It was just a barrel of fun.

Portland strippers spoiled me. They’re legit just your friendly neighbor strippers and they look like they enjoy themselves and that’s what always makes it enjoyable. I saw a girl legit make it rain from her nipple and it caused a twinkle of admiration in my eyes.

I’ve always had a strong appreciation for the female body and there’s something about the confidence some women have naked, shaking them titties in my face that just gives me this glow of happiness. Them having a good time doing their thing makes me have a good time enjoying watching them. It’s never been anything sexual. It’s just a genuine appreciation and I can get lost in it.

The atmosphere is really important though. I’ve been to trashy strip clubs and paid no attention to what was going on and got stupidly drunk instead. I’ve seen strippers who made me sad and I had to leave the club because I wanted to give her a hug and knew that wasn’t what I was there to feel. I’ve watched cold ones who work mechanically and don’t care for that kind of entertainment. The strip clubs in Vancouver aren’t that great and I hadn’t been to one in a few years after a depression experience.

Until recently.

I went last Wednesday with a friend of mine. We ended up at the strip club after I got impatient waiting for karaoke to start. I briefly fell in love with my friend when he gave me a bunch of bills to give to the stripper. It was so attractive and I’m serious when I thought to myself, this is the quality I need in a guy. This isn’t a friend zone type of situation either because our opportunity ship sailed and we decided to keep a friendship intact. I ended up, technically, getting asked to leave. By technically, I mean the bouncer told my friend that if he wasn’t going to get me to go then he would be the one to do the asking.

What happened? I got too immersed with the stripper and was playfully joking about taking my top off. She teased along with it and in the end, I just shrugged and took it off. Relax, I had a bralette under and it was nothing showy or special. It was a slow night at a strip club and I was having fun.

But I liked the neighborhood pub feel that place had. I wasn’t sure if it was a one-off thing so I decided to go back there this past weekend. By myself.

I had a fucking blast. I ended up making friends with this group of guys. When you’re a girl by herself at a strip club, the guys throw money to bring the strippers to you. It was a friendly vibe. Not the awkward kind I got sitting at a pub drinking by myself. Not the gross kind at a club where they’re trying to hook up with me. Just a group of friendly guys getting a vagina close to my face and cheering it on. I clapped like an excited little kid. Straight up, it was my kind of fun. I had so much fun. It was exactly the kind of fun I needed. It’s the kind of fun I like having. It’s the kind of fun I’ve been wanting to have for a long, long time.

I’ll definitely be doing that again. It won’t be a weekday thing but the weekends seem packed and fun. I enjoy it with people who are having the same kind of fun.

 

 

Then & Now

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I think I wrote that in like, 2013. At the time, this list was astonishing because it was after a bit over a year of learning how to be self-sufficient and independent when I had no clue how to be.

In 2012, I’d just gotten out of a long-term relationship and it was the first time I’d ever been on my own. Before that, I always had someone taking care of me or someone to depend on. I moved into a place with four male roommates and it was the first time I’d ever just randomly lived with strangers. To be honest, it was a great household to live in until some of us started graduating from the place. By then, I figured it was time for me to branch out on my own too.

But that year living there, I worked hard for myself. I pushed myself to the gym after barely/struggling with any form of fitness in my entire life. I was so dumb about anything that I made a friend of mine hold my hand and basically do everything for me but pay when I got my gym membership. I was anxious. What made me sign up was this awkward moment where the group of girls I was friends with at the time all silently agreed that I was chubby. We had taken a photo and I was so surprised by how I looked and said, “ARE THOSE FAT ROLLS ON MY BACK?”. The response I got was silence and no one would look at me. This scene is forever in my memory. After a tough start, I fell in love with powerlifting and the lowkey confidence that manifested through that probably saved my life at the time. Still, I took myself for granted.

During that year, I put all my energy into building myself. It was probably the most disciplined I’d ever been in my life. In the beginning, there were times where I felt so lonely that I would call the suicide hotline just to talk to someone for a bit. I didn’t seek help or support because I was that alone and didn’t have the knowledge I do now. Eventually, I was still living a lonely life but I was getting somewhere with it.

When I wrote that in 2013, I still thought I was getting somewhere. I couldn’t have predicted that my life would go into the downward dark spiral that it did for the next few years. I was doing great in terms of jobs. I was working my regular office job but also serving just to keep myself from being a complete hermit. I ended up dating a guy on and off for seven months and it was such a dumb relationship. He was so dumb. After we broke up and he fucked off to Reno, there began my downfall.

I was burnt out from working all the time. I was heartbroken over such a stupid relationship. I didn’t really have anyone to talk to so instead I slowly started to self-destruct in ways that I masked as trying to be better. I bullshitted on the outside while being empty on the inside. I was pretty promiscuous because I thought I’d enjoy myself and you know, expand my sexual horizon. To be honest, most of it sucked and I didn’t really enjoy myself. I also went into this weird perverse phase that still baffles me to this day. I think it was because I kept what I wanted sexually on the inside and felt I had to sneak around about it. I also did another thing secretly that I actually enjoyed because it’s not as bad as people say. The only thing that sucked was the emotional abuse from a messed up man and the loneliness I felt about it.

Everything around me was pretty toxic. I gave up on opportunities out of anxiety. There were days I was so paralyzed that I couldn’t function but I pretended and it made things worse. I was drinking all the time. My relationships were fleeting and such headaches. I was trying to get guys who were emotionally unavailable to love me. Who weren’t interested in me and I convinced myself to believe their empty words. Or I’d date guys who I gave the feels to but they couldn’t handle them like an adult so I’d try to handle it for the both of us and those didn’t end well. The more I kept consuming myself in all the mess, the more I was losing myself. Even with the breakdowns, I would manage to lie to myself enough to keep pretending.

My only friend that knew anything was broken as well. That friendship seemed like the greatest love story but it was empty because we were. It was the equivalent of a toxic relationship that we both thought we needed. I would end up in another one when I moved in with a girl roommate. Most of my female friendships have been damaging or superficial. I struggle to feel the sincerity of it. I’m learning how to properly let a genuine connection happen but it’s not easy.

I started become lowkey scared of everything. I felt like an alien. I had isolated myself and pretended so much that I didn’t really know how to socialize anymore. When I had to, I faked it pretty well. I became so fucking broken and while I knew the truth, I couldn’t admit it to myself. There were nights where I would cry and pray for things to get better. They didn’t get better.

Though I do give big ups to the one guy I dated who is one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met. We only dated for a month and a half because he moved to Australia to become a doctor. What we did briefly have was pure and genuine. He was super caring and thoughtful and made me feel valued. Even when he was gone and busy with studying, he would still make time for me when he could. He was always there when he could be and he never left me hanging. I messed up our friendship when I got into an emotionally abusive relationship and became scared of guys. I’ve apologized to him years later but it’s not the same. I still remember our time together from time to time fondly. Sometimes it makes me tear up.

By the end of 2015, I stopped living my life for myself. It felt like all my options were dead ends. I was having frequent panic attacks but had nowhere to hide. I started investing in an emotionally abusive relationship to escape. The four months it lasted left me a shell of a person. It was cruelty through loyalty. It really fucked me up emotionally and to an extent, I let it happen. It only ended when he shoved me against a wall and I told him if he didn’t let go of me I would kill him. After that, I gave notice to my place and slept on a friend’s couch for three weeks because I didn’t trust myself to be alone. I started looking for a place with a roommate because I didn’t want to be alone.

The fucked up part was I tried to date during this time. I wanted to block out that relationship from my head and this was my way of moving on. Didn’t work.

I moved in with a girl and lived with her for a year and a half. It started out great but by the end of it, we hated each other. We were both pretty messed up in our own ways and were no good for each other. I still don’t like her and besides writing this about her, I barely think of her. To be fair, I did some dumb shit too. She had to put up with a lot of my bullshit, especially when I got into a relationship that almost resulted in eloping. It was the relationship that would make me realize that I needed to get help and I needed to be better. I started seeing a therapist but I was still hiding out about myself. There were moments where I felt so empty that I wanted to stab myself with a kitchen knife. It was a dull urge but it was there. I tried to push that down because hey, it was an upgrade from wanting to drown myself in a bath the year before.

Near the end of 2017, I worked through enough to start allowing myself to feel angry and take control of my life more. I quit my shit job and moved out into my own place. I was still feeling empty so I made the decision to get on anti-depressants.

2018 wasn’t a great year in terms of shit that happened. A lot happened behind the scenes and what felt like every aspect of my life. I struggled a lot. But it didn’t feel as exhausting as it once did. Towards the end of the year, I learned to not struggle alone. I started to learn to genuinely talk about what was happening to people I trusted. I haven’t learned to fully cope with certain things but I’m getting there. I don’t talk to douchebags anymore. I let my friends love me when I can’t love myself. I’m learning to accept their love without feeling like it’s trouble. I let them hug me and let me know it’s okay when it feels like everything is falling apart. I’m no longer lonely in that sense.

And here we are at 2019. I’ve been several months douchebag-free. I don’t count the last guy I hung out with amongst the trash. I understand the value of myself and know how I’d like to be treated. At first I was going to quit drinking but lately, I’ve been trusting myself with handling it and I’m confident it’s doable. I only think this because I’m learning to embrace the core of me and it takes away from the escape or distraction of just drinking. I’m slowly shedding that desire to be a version of myself that’s not really me. I’m getting down with my way of fun and what’s fun for me and I can see shining that path is. This glow up game is real and I’m beginning to see my sparkle.

I hope by the end of this year I can make another successful “in this past year”. I know this time around there won’t be another downward spiral. Not if I don’t ever try to downplay my sparkle again.

 

 

It’s The Little Things…

I’ve been obsessed with Knowing Bros for a while now. It’s so much fun to watch when the guests are good but I’m into it for the chemistry between the main crew. There’s something about it that warms my heart. It’s the same way when I watch clips of BTS or Super Junior. There’s something about the balance. I didn’t expect how hyped I’d get about it but I’m here for it staying.

There’s also something about the way Min Kyung-Hoon laughs that fills my heart with joy. I like the way it sounds and the way he looks doing it. Every time I hear it, it makes me smile. I’m tempted to make a compilation of it for sad days. I’m crushing on him pretty hard.

Also, everything is better with animal stickers. I like taking them with friends. It’s a recent thing I’ve started to do and it makes me happy. It’s so silly but the impact of happiness I feel is what’s good. I used to feel pretty embarrassed about admitting how much these types of things make me happy. I used to feel like people wouldn’t take me seriously if I showed this side of me.

It’s these little things that brighten up my day. Embracing it has helped me become happier. It’s been helping me shed this wall of earnest I thought I had to build around me. It’s the side of me I want to learn to appreciate.

Sun’s Starting To Come Out

It’s been a while since I’ve felt like myself or a functioning version of me. I’m beginning to come back alive. I also feel like I’m about to come out stronger than ever. Things seem brighter rather than just gray or bleak. My glow-up self-project is currently underway. I can feel it’s going to be successful this time. Not only that, it’s going to stick. I could be wrong but let’s have some optimism.

In an attempt to stop drinking, for now, I’ve switched to drinking diet coke. I could drink only water but that’s too depressing for me. I don’t care if it’s bad for me and might give me cancer. Everything seems to lead to cancer these days so I might as well pick the causes I’m going to enjoy. I read somewhere that it could cause even more weight gain but it would still be at a slower pace than if I drank regular coke. To be honest… I don’t really like the taste of regular coke anymore. It’s what I’ll be drinking when I go out. I was a little worried that it would be difficult but I sat at a bar that my friend was working at for a few hours on the weekend doing it and it was fine. I’ve got a couple of more outings that is really going to test me.

I’ve never been an entirely healthy person and I like having some form of vice. I’d have chosen and kept smoking if I had someone to do that with. It still bums me out that it doesn’t fit in my life anymore because I love smoking. I’ve never really been a drug enthusiast except for those couple of years in my early 20s where I did a lot of MDMA.

My point is being a completely clean living person is incredibly boring but I’m not cool enough or too dumb to have destructive vices anymore. On my solo journey, diet coke is now my vice. I thought about coffee or tea and didn’t really care for it. This is how lame and not exciting my life is right now to be writing about fucking diet coke like this.

I did deadlifts for the first time in forever and switching back to conventional is going to be interesting. I need to figure out a way to use either my knee sleeves or wraps for my squats without breaking my nails. My strength’s coming back and I think I’m about ready to get back at being consistent. I think not stressing so much about a routine or investing so much into just powerlifting is going to be good. I’m also determined to develop my hamstrings this year. I don’t know how but it’s going to happen, damnit.

I’m starting to begin on this path of figuring out who I am so I can start doing it on purpose. I feel like I’m going to get there if I stop trying so hard to be boring or cool and just be… a little fucking weird. I think it’s going to be fun. Maybe the confidence is coming from finally getting an A on this pokemon shuffle level I’ve been playing for a while.

I’m going to try to write more. Even if it’s just a vomit of words.