30 Percent


Go that way, Horse.

Yesterday I mentioned that one of my current projects is to lose weight and get my strength back. This is a hard post for me to write, but I need to make a major change and I'm betting a lot of you do, too. [This post is even more verbose than normal, so impatient readers can just skip to the last couple paragraphs.]

For the majority of my life I was thin. Very thin, but also pretty strong cause I was active. Mainly I rode horses, but I also did lots of other outdoorsy stuff, like hiking and climbing. I also went to the gym sometimes cause I liked the weight-training machines, although I hated the cardio equipment cause they're so mind-numbingly boring. I did some yoga and jogged on the beach.

My diet was pretty spotty back then. I ate out a lot, which is generally terrible for you, but I also tended to gorge on vegetables (a holdover from when I was a vegetarian teenager) and other healthy stuff. I ate a metric fuckton of calories on a daily basis, because I was so active I needed those calories to feed my metabolism and keep the weight on.

After I graduated from college I enlisted in the military, and shortly got injured in a training accident. I didn't realize at the time how badly I was hurt, but it eventually became apparent that I was permanently disabled to the degree of 30 percent. This was a hard pill for me to swallow, because I had programmed my brain to always be looking for physical activity.

I'm fortunate that my physical problems aren't obvious. Most people can't tell there's anything wrong with me, but as soon as I try to jump back into the fray my body says, "Um, no."

So how does this translate to my current situation? Since I had always been active I didn't understand that I could not eat the same way I had before I was injured. The seemingly obvious "Hey, Jamie, you might want to watch what you eat now that you sit on your ass all day" simply did not occur to me.

In a matter of months I ballooned. I swelled. My clothes stopped fitting. My self-esteem took a nasty blow, since I perceived myself as being totally obese after gaining 30 pounds; it's all relative, you know, even your weight. But every time I tried to work it off, my injuries just laughed in my face.

I got frustrated. I admit it: I gave up. I stopped caring what I ate, and I just let myself go.

I've lost and gained some pounds here and there. My injuries are still a gigantic pain in my ribcage, but I've mostly gotten used to it. I weigh 170 pounds (I'm 5'7"). At my healthiest I am about 130, give or take, depending on muscle mass. According to the CDC's weight chart, I'm overweight.

Maybe if I stand in front of this fat tree I'll  magically look less fat! You know, by comparison! Or something.

I'm sick of it. I'm tired of feeling fat. I'm tired of being tired all the time. I hate having a closet full of awesome clothes that don't fit me, and I'm tired of buying dresses just because I hate the way my jeans squeeze my stomach. I'm tired of avoiding mirrors and cringing at pictures.

I do however love my fat boobs, but I'll kiss them goodbye cause I'd rather be thin than have diabetes, heart problems, and increased risk of cancer. I'm already struggling with infertility, which is a common side effect of obesity. I want my sex drive back. I want my life back.

We all have reasons why we're not in shape. We're too busy, hurting too much, our meds are too uncooperative, we can't afford it, etc., etc. I refuse to let my reason make up my mind for me. It's going to hurt. A lot. But pain always passes, and if I don't suffer now I'm going to just keep getting fatter and eventually die before my time. I'm not making excuses any more.

So how about it? I'm thinking about doing a "get healthy" thing here on the blog, like maybe a weekly link party, so you can join in. I'll post very embarrassing progress pictures of myself to help keep us motivated, whether it's to lose weight, gain strength, get limber, or train for a marathon (the man's goal!). Don't say, "why not?" because you'll just come up with excuses. You have to start somewhere, so start now!

Let me know what you think. Leave a comment here, or on Facebook!

Inspiration Friday Taking a Timeout Thursday

And Then She Infected Everyone. Damn her


One of my friends calls this my psychotic housewife face. I call it my "Hey, you can totally see my stripey bra through my shirt!" face.

I was sick with the giraffe flu and then my grandmother died, and then my dog ate a can of nails and my husband's car broke down so I had to drive him everywhere, but then I blew a tire and was stranded on the side of the road, and a very nice man who turned out to be a psycho gave me a ride and then when I finally escaped, the police sequestered me for evidence but then my giraffe flu flared up and I got to see what the CDC's holding cells look like.

They're quite comfy, actually. Like a Sheraton, but with less Ebola.

Okay so really, I just got swamped after I finished my thesis (hey, that means I'm a master now. CALL ME MASTER, MINIONS) and have been busy sort of reorganizing my life while I wait to get into a PhD program. My happy little not-so-secret lair here on the blog got sidelined. BUT! Changes are happening, and they are awesome! Here they are:

  • 1. Retro Academic! This is my shop that I actually started a couple years ago but never launched. It specializes in clothes that have retro influence but that are slightly more appropriate for school, work, or your mother-in-law's house than some other popular brands out there. Think longer lengths, tweed, pleated skirts and oxfords. Basically, all the clothes I love but can never find anywhere! Stay tuned for updates!!! 

  • 2. Get (back) in shape. I'll write more about this later, but for now suffice to say I need to lose about 45 pounds and get some strength back (are those belly rolls in that pic up there? WHY YES. YES THEY ARE.). Hang around if you want to hear about my progress!

  • 3. I am focusing on my writing. I've been writing academic stuff for so long that I haven't worked on my fiction at all, so I'm bringing it back front-and-center. The last month or so I have been deep in a writerly hole of my own making, churning out chapter after chapter of drivel. Well, I'm told it's not drivel, but it definitely needs some (a lot of) work, imo.

  • 4. AND of course, Scissors and Steam! I haven't quite worked out the extent of the changes here yet. Since this blog is a reflection of my life, it will probably be less focused on crafty stuff than before, and a little more on the stuff in the fancy bullets above. But not to worry minions! DON'T PANIC. (that was a Douglas Adams reference, for those of you who are not gigantic nerds) Crafts and projects still exist, I'll still write about them, they just probably won't be my main focus, for now. 
WOW I've missed all of you. Thank you for still being here. I hope you hang around and see what's coming. Like balls, but with more choice in the matter.

Huh. That was sweet. And then I made a testicle joke. Yep, I'm definitely back.

disclaimer: My grandmother is not dead. Well, one of them at least. My dog has not eaten a single nail lately. My husband is totally self-sufficient and could build a car out of a hot wheel, hope, and a car. I was not kidnapped. I have not encountered any police lately, except the one I yelled at for being incompetent. I'm a fucking hypochondriac, so I think I do have the giraffe flu, even though I just made it up. I'm a fucking hypochondriac, so HELL NO I have never been to the CDC. I'm sorry, Sheraton. Please don't sue me.
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