Remind me again why we all get into relationships again and again and again when all of them just end up hurting you and somebody you love again and again and again?
Isn’t the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result?
Blame the Spice Girls? (via Twisty)
Barbara Ehrenreich has a blog! (thanks, Jenn)
And if you haven’t read this bit about “choice feminism” from Linda Hirshman, you should. (also via Twisty)
Yawning Lion defines feminism (ohhhh yes, the feminist sex wars continue! For the record, I think trying to force yourself to be a lesbian is about as sexually unfair to you and your partner as trying to force yourself to enjoy sex with men. But hey, that’s why I’m not a radfem or a real feminist, I suppose)
Women, Health, and the Politics of Fat.
I’ll rant about all these links later…
I somehow managed to do nothing today. I tried to work on some line edits in a vain attempt to get tDW fucking finished. Instead, every chapter, every paragraph, every line, every word, looked wrong. I needed to start over. Trash it and start again.
It was one of those days.
I realized it wasn’t as if I felt actively depressed or beaten down. I felt… overwhelmed. The list of things I want and need to do grows longer, while the list of things I actually do grows shorter.
Why is this?
Because everything I’ve got right now is going into sugar numbers, and figuring out insulin dosages and how I need to change my diet to work with that, and making sure I’m exercising on a schedule. Again.
My sugar’s been a lot better since switching back to the Lantus-and-Novolog combo, and now I’m working at making the numbers perfect. I’m still getting one over-200 number a day, and I’m experimenting with insulin doses at noon that’ll take care of that once and for all.
And I’m laboring over my diet. Cutting, cutting, cutting, like bad prose. No more butter, turkey bacon instead of bacon, a sprinkling of grated cheese instead of cheese sauce, and a heavy culling of the carbs, once again. So much for the dietician’s recommended 12-15 servings a day total. There’s no way that’s going to work anymore. Try cutting that in half.
I’m hungry all the time. I’m not starving anymore, though. I added eggs to breakfast and a salad to dinner, so at least I start and end my day well. But that whole swath of the rest of the day is a bitch, and the best I can do is try and soothe my appetite with coffee, which I’ve also had to cut back on because I was drinking so much to suppress my appetite that I was making myself sick.
It’s a funny thing, realizing that I have to give everything I’ve got to one major thing at a time. I keep trying to divide myself into equal pieces that do equally fantastic work, but in fact I can either do one thing well and a couple of things in passing, or a bunch of things half-assed. And doing a bunch of things half-assed means never being satisfied with anything. Not that I’m satisfied now. Looking at below-200 numbers on my little monitor and not feeling like shit is a great step in the right direction, but I find it difficult to manage much else right now, and that frustrates the shit out of me.
One thing at a time. I know, I know, I know. But I hate it. I hate slowing down. I want everything to run smoothly right now, this instant. I want, I want, I want.
And instead everything is this slow process, this long trek up this shitty, muddy hillside, and everybody keeps telling me there’s a good view from the top, but goddamn, the view down here is shitty.
And yes, yes, I’ll be fine.
But, damn.
My buddy Patrick has finally given in to peer pressure and got himself a blog.
Well, OK, it’s an LJ. But that shouldn’t encourage ya’ll to think any less of him… heh heh
Why did I spend four pages getting the characters from the scholars’ quarters to dinner with the Patron when the maze-like layout of the keep has absolutely no bearing on anything that happens with the plot?
Oh, yea, cause, “Someday it might!”
Cut, cut, cut.
… and writing about llamas. Llamas, llamas, llamas. A fun word to spell, anyway. Ah, the things I do for money!
Watched Ride with the Devil last night.
Ohhh… Jonathan Rhys-Meyers with long hair. Still an asshole, sadly. But oh! Long hair.
Also, probably the best line ever in response to the “Are you a virgin?” question.
I’m totally stealing that line for a chracter of mine…
God, these things are such crap, but I’m not doing much else today…
You scored as Either. You brain is neither specifically male nor female in the way you perceive things. As bad as this sounds it can easily mean that you are capable of combining both gender aspects to your advantage. Rather than being genderless you are possibly able think freely. This does not mean that you are bisexual or androgynous or indecisive, but it might.
Should you be MALE or FEMALE?* |
Ha ha. In the more advanced quiz, I came out leaning-toward-male-brained:
Angles
This task tested your ability to identify the angle of a line by matching it with its twin. This is a spatial task, which looks at how you picture space.
Your score: 15 out of 20
Average score for men: 15.1 out of 20
Average score for women: 13.3 out of 20
Spot the difference
This task tested your ability to identify which objects changed position. You lost points, if you incorrectly identified objects.
Your score: 14%
Average score for men: 39%
Average score for women: 46%
Damn, I suck!
Hands
You said your right thumb was on top when you clasped your hands together.
Right thumb on top: This suggests the left half of your brain is dominant. Many studies have tried to establish whether there is a relationship between handedness and brain dominance. Some scientists believe that if you are left brain dominant, you would be more verbal and analytical.
Left thumb on top: This suggests the right half of your brain is dominant. Some studies theorise that as a right brain dominant person, you may excel in visual, spatial and intuitive processes.
Ummmm OK.
Emotions and Systems
This task looked at whether you prefer to empathise or systemise.
Your empathy score is: 2 out of 20
Average score for men: 7.9 out of 20
Average score for women: 10.6 out of 20
Oh! What a lousy score!!! Why doesn’t this surprise me?
What does your result suggest?
Empathisers are better at accurately judging other people’s emotions and responding appropriately. If you scored 15 and above, you are very empathic and would be an ideal person to comfort people in a time of crisis. Women in general are better at empathising.
Systemising
Your systemising score is: 6 out of 20
Average score for men: 12.5 out of 20
Average score for women: 8.0 out of 20
What does your result suggest?
Systemisers prefer to investigate how systems work. A system can be a road map, flat pack furniture, or a mathematical equation – anything that follows a set of rules. A score of 15 and above suggests you’re good at analysing or building systems. Men in general are better at systemising.
Eyes
This task tested your ability to judge people’s emotions.
Your score: 8 out of 10
Average score for men: 6.6 out of 10
Average score for women: 6.6 out of 10
Fingers
We asked you to measure your ring and index fingers. Your ratios came to:
Right Hand: 0.98
Left Hand: 1
Average ratio for men: 0.982
Average ratio for women: 0.991
Faces
This task looked at how you rate the attractiveness of a series of faces. The images you looked at were digitally altered to create slight differences in masculinity.
Your choices suggest you prefer more masculine faces.
3D shapes
This task tested your ability to mentally rotate 3D shapes.
Your score: 8 out of 12
Average score for men: 8.2 out of 12
Average score for women: 7.1 out of 12
What does your result suggest?
If you scored 7 – 9: In past studies, 50 per cent of the people who scored in this range were women and 50 per cent were men.
Words
This task looked at your verbal fluency.
Your score: you associated 7 word(s) with grey and you named 4 word(s) that mean happy. We are assuming that all the words you entered are correct.
Average score for men: 11.4 words total
Average score for women: 12.4 words total
My only defense is that maybe I didn’t understand the question correctly…
What does your result suggest?
If you produced 6 – 10 words: Most people in this range have a female-type brain.
Ultimatum
This task asked you how you would divide money.
If you had to split £50 with someone, you said you would demand £25
So far on the Sex ID test, men have demanded 51.6% (£25.80) of the pot and women have demanded 51.0% (£25.50), on average.
(all stolent from David)
Damn, that place was swanky!
35th floor, downtown, conference room with the big view of the city, everybody in slacks and ties and the whole nine yards.
It seemed to go well. I certainly wouldn’t mind working there. Though I definately won’t be blogging *anything* about work if I end up there. I suspect there may be more people there with an interest in googling their officemates in their downtime…
OMG that was AWFUL.
Why is it I always end up being somebody’s guinea pig?
When I was 16 and had my first gyno appointment, the doctor had an apprentice in there, and so propped me open and groped and pointed every couple of minutes to explain things to the apprentice while they both peered into my vagina.
When I had my IUD put in, there was a midwife apprentice in attendance who was there to observe the procedure. Said procedure ended up taking two clinicians, the apprentice, and 45 minutes to complete, cause I’ve apparently got a small cervix.
Today, Dr. S. had two newbie doctors in attendance. One of them was assigned me, and after quizzing me about bowel movements, shots, and not believing me when I said I wasn’t on any other medications (“Your blood pressure is high. Don’t you take any medications for it?” Uh, no, it’s never been high before…), and chastising me for gaining *another* eight pounds this month, left me for ten minutes to go and consult with Dr. S.
And then all three doctors crowded into the little room to look over my sugar chart and talk about the fact that this new insulin was giving me some really watery shit morning and night. Apparently, insulin doesn’t do this. Or, it shouldn’t. But ever since I started this new one, it’s been a problem – in addition to the spotty sugar levels.
I got another quiz on what I was eating. I told them I felt hungrier now than I had on the Lantus, but according to the eight pounds, I MUST be eating more. I told them I was working out at night, which I hadn’t been the month before, but no, it’s a matter of me eating too much, Dr. S. insisted.
And then he said it point blank:
I needed to lose weight.
I was a little taken aback. Seriously. Even at 191, that’s on the low end of the scale for me. Anything under 200 is. I was running at 215 or 220 when I got sick. I understand the concern that I’ve gained 18 pounds since I’ve gotten healthier, but I thought that was the whole point – I’ve gotten healthier. I’m healthier (and much stronger) at 191 than I was at 176.
“The more you weigh, the more insulin you have to use,” Dr. S. said, “you’ll need to start cutting back.”
Cutting back? Cutting back??? Cutting back to where????
Sweet jesus.
So, apparently, I need to lose 10 pounds.
Ha ha aha ahaah aha
I mean, shit, fuck, really, this is fucking ridiculous.
OK, yea, I’ve already switched out regular bacon for turkey bacon. And regular cheese for low fat mozzarella. And stopped adding salt to food. OK, I can do that….
And now, OK, well, I guess I can cut out butter. And I can measure my almonds in the morning so I don’t snack on them all day. And cut the amount of string cheeses I eat from three a day to two. OK.
But I can’t eat less than that. Which means my only other option is to bump up the cardio time from 30 min 4-5 days a week to 45 min 5-6 days a week.
And if, in a month, I’ve gained weight, I’m going to laugh at all of them.
Of *course* I’ve gained weight! I was *starving*!
The general consensus is that my sugar still hasn’t stabilized, which is why it’s bouncing around so much. Dr. S. put me back on the Lantus – oh, sweet Lantus! – and handed me $400 in free insulin.
Oh, *that* part fucking *rocked.*
“Here’s some free samples,” he says, and hands me 2 $80 bottles of Lantus and 2 $80 bottles of Novolog.
Fucking sweet!
Then I went home and cried.
I’ve worked so hard at getting the sugar levels to stabilize, and I had three doctors quizzing me with the assumption that I was doing something terribly wrong, and I hated that assumption, the assumption that I was living on cookies and regular soda, just for the hell of it. And then, to get told, after all this hunger, all this watching what I’m eating, all this stupid mandatory exercise, that I need to lose weight, oh for fuck’s sake.
You think I’m not? You think I’m doing this for spite? This *is* a moderate weight for me.
But not moderate enough, apparently.
Fuck.
So I came home and cried and then put in my time on the elliptical machine. Now I’m gonna make some broccoli – without the cheese sauce – and pretend I’m doing it for fun.
The upshot of the day?
I have an interview tomorrow with a firm downtown who’re looking for a project coordinator.
They didn’t blink at my 50-55K a year salary requirement.
I’m trying to be optimistic.
I’m tired of things sucking.
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