today was kind of awesome because I ran a lot and then I ran with Simba a lot too, so we were both so wiped out we napped for like three hours straight, and it was just glorious. I also Kept Up With The Kardashians and studied at the library and interviewed expert grillers for a class and checked out a new thrift store and cashed in a couple of checks ($150, holla!). So, just a good day all around.
it was also a good day because I sort of cooked (baked?) a Debbie-fied pizza, which I've been craving for like, three hundred years. That's what happens when you can't have cheese.
I had a teensy bit of lactaid cottage cheese left in the fridge, so I decided to put it to good use by giving this recipe a shot!
I do have to note that I used a little bit of creative license, since my main problem with cooking is that I am so ravenous that I am too impatient to let the stupid thing cook all the way through. That's why I'm going to get salmonella one day if I keep doing this with chicken.
at the moment I am being a grandma, sipping on my chai tea and contemplating working on my, ahem, "novel" (that feels like an all too important task for little old me, but it's kind of sort of coming along). But you know, perhaps one of the cool kids will text me with hawt plans for tonight, so wherever the night takes me, I say.
last winter, while waiting for a flight to Athens at the dingy, food-less (the horror) Mykonos airport, a lightbulb went off in my head. Sort of. But really, I suddenly had this novel in my mind, this main character, and it was all unraveling (or, rather, I was spouting off word vomit to my dad and little sister, who, to be fair, were really good sports about it). We all got really into it, actually, offering possible scenarios and characters and ways in which the plot could thicken even thicker (it was already pretty damn thick, but you know).
then I got home, and I may have tried to start writing, oh, you know, once or twice. But then I chickened out. C-O-M-M-I-T-M-E-N-T. P-O-S-S-I-B-L-E F-A-I-L-U-R-E.*
*wuss.
when I was 12, I wrote crappy novel after crappier novel after crappiest novel. My sister pretended to read them. My main characters had cool names. Like Sanne and Emma (hey, I thought that was real original back then, okay?). Not like Debbie, which I still think is a name better suited for an 80s high school cheerleader with one of those poofy perms that is just out of control.
obviously, at the time, I thought I was a way better writer than I actually am (and certainly than I actually was).
anyway! Today I realized how bored I am on a daily basis. I go to class. I feed Simba. I yell at Simba. I tell Simba to stop shitting in the house. I go on a run. I contemplate signing up for a 5K and then think of how embarrassing it would be to be the last one crossing the finish line. I ditch the 5K idea. I go to class again. I eat peanut butter. I nap. I blog. I work, if there is any work to do. I yell at my boyfriend for not texting me back. I text Simba pictures to my boyfriend's sister and my sister and my dad and every single one of my contacts. I read. I watch Mad Men (or Teen Mom or Dance Moms. Real quality television). I do homework. I drink coffee.
buuuuuut I am bored!
the truth is that life was so much more exciting when I was doing gymnastics. But I am not anymore. Because I cannot will my back to un-injure itself, as much as I try to pretend. I guess I will write about this some other day. Maybe. It's upsetting.
so so so!
I have officially decided to put my big girl panties on and write the stupid novel. Yep. I'm putting it out there so that I can be kept accountable. Possible internet shame should be enough motivation, don't you think?
okay. So I'm doing it. I'll write in my room and at Starbucks and from the balcony with a side of coffee or chai tea. P-E-R-F-E-C-T.
and by the way, I nearly had a panic attack when it went up on the website. Obviously a part of me still believes that everyone else is thinking "liar liar!" just like my mother did. But thankfully, all of the comments have been incredibly supportive and beautiful and I am proud of myself for writing about what I've been through. Maybe someone else will feel less alone.
if anything, it was cathartic for me (when I wrote it. Which was months ago).
I love writing. I want to be a writer.
the end.
p.s. if you are Jewish and fasting, I hope you're having an easy fast. Which I am not, since that would be one big Crohn's mess that I am sure I do not want to deal with (well, at least that's what my dad and my roommates and my boyfriend said. DO NOT FAST ARE YOU CRAZY!? So I'm taking their word for it).
I've been in a pretty foul mood these past two days (except for a few moments of coffee-induced euphoria), so instead of writing a long, rant-y post about my greatest faults and shortcomings as a person (of which I have many, I assure you...), I have decided to list a few things that are making me happy as of late. Deal?
{so I've been meaning to take photos with a real camera, but I cannot, for the life of me, find my DSLR battery, my instax mini is sadly broken, and I do not have any polaroid film...so instagram it is for now. Follow me at @debbiele03 if you wish! But I'm not that interesting...I mostly post pictures of Simba because I am one of those mothers that is convinced her child is the greatest in the world.}
{1} my new elephant mug! I found the coolest store in Hartford with handmade objects from all around the world, all from developing countries. I could've been in there all day. I love stuff like that -- way more than I love, say, thrifting, actually.
{2} feeling surprisingly un-overwhelmed by the future. This doesn't happen often, so I guess I will milk it while it lasts. I am just starting to feel that things will work out one way or another, and right now I really do not have much control over anything other than how hard I've been working to make my dreams happen, so what use is worrying, really?
{3} I slept nine hours last night! Admittedly, I took Nyquil because I am sick, but still...
{4} a fellow classmate telling me that they really loved a story I wrote after the professor (figuratively, not literally) ripped it to shreds.
{5} the fact that after 21 years of life, I am finally able to enjoy a hot cup of coffee. I don't understand why I ever hated it before.
{6} getting a job that I am really excited about (I get to write! About the things I love!)! I mean, how many people can say that about their college job, really?
{7} finally figuring out what to do with my hair so that I can trick people into thinking that it has volume. Groundbreaking stuff, people.
{8} the fact that Simba will be neutered soon. Yes. I really can't deal with this any longer. Psh, teenage boys.
{9} today, instead of listening to I Heart Radio on my morning run, I put Beyonce on shuffle. IT WAS THE BEST DECISION OF MY LIFE.
{10} starting a new book. Hopefully my brain will not be too mushy by the end of each day to read, because that tends to happen with college.
when I first began my "recovery" (and I use this term loosely as I was so reluctant) from anorexia as a senior in high school, I followed a terribly strict meal plan, complete with measurements and exact portions (good God, who has the time to measure vegetables!?). I ate the same three meals and two snacks day in and day out. While I was entrenched in my eating disorder, I became a hermit of sorts, locking myself up in the upstairs room, reading pro-ana websites (freedom of speech my ass -- those websites are dangerous and should be illegal) and counting calories. As part of my recovery, I was encouraged to go out with friends, just like I used to before my illness completely took over my life.
so one day, I did.
I was terrified. I promised myself I wouldn't drink -- calories! I packed my dinner (chicken, vegetables, brown rice), even though we were headed to a fair where there would surely be delicious (albeit fatty) options.
my friends (to be honest, at that point I had drifted too far apart from everyone to really consider them close friends) and I rented a "party bus" (keep in mind I grew up in Costa Rica, so this scenario is entirely plausible -- I was also of legal age there) and the drinking started right away.
it is kind of impossible to resist a drink when you've got 20 rowdy teenagers urging you on (peer pressure at its finest, no?), especially when you are too ashamed to admit to the real reason you aren't drinking: you're freaking terrified to get fat. Liquid calories! Empty calories!
so I did what I thought I "had" to do, my "only choice."
I flushed my dinner down the toilet. That way, I could make up for any (or most) calories I consumed when drinking (never mind the fact that drinking on an empty stomach is never a good idea).
when I got home, my dad asked me, "Did you eat dinner?" and I said, completely straight-faced, "Yeah, obviously."
an eating disorder is an expert liar.
I think back to this day and I cringe a little.
so what was that about? The point of this is not to give anyone any ideas (of course not), or to let everyone know what a sad life I lived back then. Nope. The point of this is to remind myself of how lucky and glad I am that I am finally able to let go, have a drink or two or three, and maybe even order a pizza on the side -- you know those drunk munchies are vicious.
I had a fabulous time last night with my boyfriend and his friends here in Connecticut. So what if I feel like crap this morning? I'll only be 21 once (reincarnation aside, obviously).
lucky for me, I hear fantastic things on a daily basis. If these things are particularly fantastic, I try to make a mental note in my head to jot them down later. Or I bust out the handy dandy iPhone. It's 2012. Get with it.
"I thought Kate and Prince William got divorced."
"Um no?"
"Well that's not what the Egyptian news said!"
"all I'm saying is, the CrossFit Games would be a lot more fun if they had an elliptical competition."
"or the stair master!"
"so what did you guys do this weekend?"
...
"no one? Well, I guess I'll go then. I went to a cat show."
"what's a cat show? Like, a dog show?"
"yeah, but they don't do tricks. They just sort of sit there to be admired."
"can you pet them?"
"no, well -- you have to ask for permission."
"how did you even hear about this?"
"another professor and her boyfriend invited me...so, basically, I was the third wheel at a cat show."
"hey girl, what's your dog's name?"
"Simba."
"did you know Simba means lion in Swahili?"
"yeah, I actually knew that."
"well, are you gonna ask me how I know that?
"um...sure. How do you know that?"
"I'm fluent in Swahili." -- says the drunk white kid that wants to get me to sleep with him
"...okay."
"...and then I decided a career in math was not for me, so I went to the CIA and tried to pass the test to become a spy in the Soviet Union, since I was already fluent in Russian."
"Daaaaamn, what happened to your foot?"
"I broke it."
"Daaamn, I know how you feel. That sucks."
"I know, especially in New York City."
"Right, 'cause you have to walk everywhere. I'm just like you; I got shot, so that's why I walk with a limp."
"..."
{okay, so obviously this was when I had a broken foot and that one obviously is not funny, per se, but more like oh my God I am so sorry you got shot and I am so sorry you have to carry heavy boxes around all day for your job on a bad leg and no, getting shot in the leg and breaking your foot is so not the same thing}
...especially late at night, when I cannot, for the life of anything that is holy on this planet, sleep (sometime, I will have to write a long, rant-y post about how much I despise insomnia. I also despise how I cannot take Ambien because apparently my body just loves to become addicted to everything; read: starvation, scales, losing weight, and that one time I took Vicodin for five days because a suitcase fell on my head and got the nastiest withdrawal symptoms as soon as I got off it). So I peruse the internet in the wee hours of the morning (two, three, four in the morning -- ugh), and sometimes, every once in a while, I will find some cool stuff.
stuff that I will link to, because frankly, it's cooler than my blog, so you should all spend time over there, rather than here (although I will not flatter myself and think that anybody actually spends time here, but you know).
+ soulpancake ! Have any of you heard of this? I actually didn't find this one (I'm not about to take credit for something I didn't do), but my boss told me about it, and yeah, it's kind of cheesy, but I like happy things! And speaking of happy, I can already tell I will love my new job. It's awesome. I'd love to do something similar to this out of college -- because I'd pretty much get to write about what I love to write about all day (in addition to doing some other pretty nifty things). One can only hope?!
a personal favorite of mine...
+ Suzy's shop ! She's done some illustrating for Vitality, and she is a fantastic, witty writer, but for some reason I only just discovered her shop. I'm obsessed with her iPhone cases.
+ I am the loser that still has hope that there'll be a Friends reunion someday, so this made me happy (thanks, Alyssa! I love you and our conversations). I mean, seriously speaking, though, I've never asked a guy to go on a break because I know how well that turned out for Rachel...
...I almost wish I was joking.
"it's not that common, it doesn't happen to every guy, and it is a big deal" -- Ha. Ha. Ha.
+ yes, this ! How about exercise for the sake of getting to know our bodies, rather than burning calories? As a disgustingly competitive person, this is inspiring -- and a mindset that I should adopt myself.
anddddd...that's it. For now, I think. But it's Thursday night (the weekend in the world of college), so I suppose I should go have some fun and save my other posts for another day (like, how interviewing a girl with alopecia just changed my life -- I'm actually really excited about this one...). So, stay tuned, I guess?
