Tuesday, July 24, 2007

So Bleh

Current Weight:175ish

Thanks to Saturday night/Sunday early morning, I felt like total crap on Sunday and thus did pretty much nothing. I was in a relatively deep-seated despair until one of my net buddies talked to me about it and then another of them sent me the probably illegal-ish Harry Potter .pdf. I wouldn't have accepted it, but I have the book on order, and it just hadn't shipped till today, so...I really don't feel bad in the slightest about reading it.

One day. About eight hours and it was done. I have never taken longer than ten hours to read one of the books, so I was glad at that. And it really lightened my mind.
I still didn't get anything done, but my art class is just piling on the stress right now. I kind of want to set the teacher on fire at the moment.
Why?
I like him plenty, but our final project is just insane. We have the completely replicate two of an artists drawings (not painting, so basically, ink); that means to size, same materials, exact mediums. And then we have to push out two of our own in the same style and similar composition. All due on FRIDAY.

I haven't started this. Mainly because I am so overwhelmed by the idea of it.

I am completely and totally in fear of this project because I am a perfectionist. Perfectionist. And in case you missed it: PERFECTIONIST
This is pretty much the worst project I could ever be asked to do. Because I'll probably go through I don't even know how many attempts. Not only that, but if the medium isn't just ink, I'm screwed. I am not comfortable with ink-related mediums. I don't use them and thus have no idea how to control them. Graphite and oil paints (to a lesser degree) are my bitches, but pretty much everything else is lost on me. I'm bad with charcoal (probably my aversion to having really dirty hands) and actually hate it quite a lot. I love messing around with other paints, but I've never been taught, nor have I felt like wasting $100-some just to play around with really good pigments. Yeah...that would be what I call a WASTE.
Let me be clear about something, though: I am not averse to learning them and then mastering them, but I lock up if expected to just magically know how to use it with no guided practice whatsoever.

And here my teacher is in the e-mail he sent yesterday in clarification, talking about ink wash and all these other things I have heard of but have never once touched upon. Ever.

This makes me about ten-shades of nervous.

In other news, I really wanted to make pad see ew the other day (I think yesterday), but didn't quite get it right. I mean, I was improvising parts of it anyway 'cause I didn't have broccoli nor the right rice noodles...but what really took the cake was that in the ingredient list, whoever wrote it up failed to put dark soy sauce and light soy sauce next to each other. As it was, I completely missed the fact that I would need double the light as the dark and that made me a bit irked.
It still turned out tasty, but I made about six times too much...so I have a huge popcorn bowl full of a mysterious noodle dish in my fridge right now. And I've had it for four meals now (or will have had it for four meals after I finish writing this). I think I'll be able to finish it off tomorrow night.

In moments like these, I realize that I really need a wok...and probably a gas oven.

My friend and I talked about the whole meltdown that happened. I got to let out some of my doubts-- the ones I mentioned in entries below-- and he was kind enough to assure me that though my "bad example of real a man, immature male friend" may have been crude enough to place doubts in my mind, he did not feel that way about me. So, that was pretty much the turning point yesterday. That and reading the rest of Harry Potter.


Starting tomorrow, it's gonna be stress stress stress. But I have to get my butt to the gym. I haven't worked out in like four days. Bleh.

Sunday, July 22, 2007

Tastes Like Chick(en)

To get the rancid taste of disappointment out of my mouth (hopefully in an attempt to minimize my stay in Doubtland), here's my post promoting Blogging Chicks.

I honestly don't think anything spectacular will come of me joining, but it's an amusement on my part. It makes me feel a bit better knowing I'm a part of something, ya know?
I mean, deep down, we all want to be a part of something. And since I'm a lonely baby blogger, maybe this way I can start making some kinds of friendships.

Anyway, it's nap time for me right now then grocery time then artwork time then workout time and then finally sleep time.

Have a great day.

Crippling Doubts

This post is going to be completely personal and totally unrelated to losing weight. As such, comments are discouraged and this post will probably disappear after awhile.

For the record, though my feelings are spawned by an encounter I had with a semi-friend, this post is not about him-- but rather the kinds of doubts we all face that are unearthed in the heat of an argument or tossed about in semi-jest.

I generally see myself as a strong individual. I pride myself on my ability to listen and have a balanced view-- I've spent years teaching myself to try and put aside judgments and learn to see with an unclouded eye. The totality of this practice is, of course, impossible as we are all subject to our own prejudices, fears, and opinions. I would like to think that I have been somewhat successful in staving off my first impressions of people in an attempt to either get to know them or let their actions dictate how I feel about them. The latter choice is also a tricky situation as people may act one way and then truly be another for whatever reason, so relying on one's actions as a determiner is not always a golden rule. As you can see, this is heavy, convoluted material-- and this isn't even the core of it.

As a habit, I also try to hold off questioning a person's actions as I am not them and will never fully know why they did something, unless I know they will speak the truth, but even when verbally explained the full reason behind an action or word can easily be lost or muddled. This is usually why I don't really get mad at people. It's not that I am patient (though I am), but rather that I know there isn't really a way to understand someone entirely all the time just based on words and actions. We all hide things, we all overlook details-- assuming they are obvious to everyone like they are to us. Most people, I think, would say they want to come across well. No one really wants to have something they say or do taken the wrong way-- since horrible things are oft spawned by such follies.

I didn't have many friends growing up-- I've always been super careful about the friends that I do have and if I must be parted from them (as in permanently), I feel deep sorrow for it. It's hard for me to understand how things can devolve so completely when I, at one point, felt so deeply about them as to let them in to see the real me. As such, when I hear very negative things about me coming from people I thought knew me, it wounds me so deeply.

Everyone is different, everyone an individual (no matter how much they want to be like someone else), and I hate the thought of getting it wrong about someone. I know it's inevitable. I realize that when people read something like this, they'll think they know what to say. No. It's not about my blindness to the fact that things will go wrong and people will get hurt and hurt me and that people assume things-- mostly incorrectly. I know that. It's insulting when people say such a base thing to someone when they're just trying to relieve the pressure inside-- thus is why comments are discouraged. Inevitably there will be someone who thinks I don't get it and will shove their stupid face into it and make it worse.

I was told tonight that I have come across (to some people) in a way that is very hurtful to hear. I, of course, never would have meant for it to be so, and part of me wants to know the full truth of it for this "revelation" was told to me in the words of anger. So, my logic center says to me not to trust it as angry words can either be the full truth or no truth at all. And if they were full truth, I would hope that the other people involved would have said something or at least partially acted in a way that supported this claim. Logically, both socially and emotionally, this is what I should believe. I should at least think more heavily upon it than just a fluttering in my brain. But. But I can't get past the hurt inside-- nor the doubts.

It's this kind of pain that makes me consider disconnecting entirely, curling up into a little ball, and going back to when I was about five years old-- before I had to deal with the pain of people. It's this kind of thing that makes me not trust people-- even those I want to trust.
It's this kind of hurt that makes me doubt my very character. I know I'm not these things, I say to myself, but then I think that since people see it, then maybe I am. And that absolutely crushes me inside-- to the point that those I really love could say whatever good things they wanted to about me and it wouldn't do anything at all. To the point that nothing could dislodge me from these doubts-- at least not entirely.

To make it worse, I recently met someone new...someone that I like quite a lot. I try to make things clear with people but now I am sitting here wondering what he thinks of me. Now I doubt how I am coming across to him. I don't want him to see me for what I'm not. I try not to come across like that-- but obviously I've failed at that quite spectacularly (at least in part) to some...so maybe I should be more careful. Then I think of how careful I am and I retreat further-- feeling less and less likely to trust the words of anyone...maybe not even myself. It's a horrible, painful mess...and I feel so alone in it all. I know I have God...and that's a comfort for sure...but when I sit here in this kind of deep heartache, I almost wish I weren't here. I'm young for sure, but I feel so old inside. I almost wish I were in Heaven-- it would be easier there...but my aversion to hurting people is so deep I'd rather not die in hopes to spare someone else. I sometimes wonder just how pathetic my desire to heal is to those I know. I mean, I think it's a good thing, but apparently it doesn't work like half the time so then I wonder if I should stop. See how cyclical this can be? I already know this about Doubt yet I can't shake his snagging grasp...not entirely, anyway...Thus why I am writing this and not sleeping.

My friend I fought with sometimes wonders what I do with my spare time. I know what I do is pretty lame to some. I read, I watch tv, I workout, I do "grandmotherly" things alone. Almost always alone. I don't mind being by myself or with people, but with all this hurt caused by those I care for is it any wonder why I'm hesitant to hang out with people? Is it at all hard to understand why I won't invite someone over until I have a firm belief that they wouldn't say no and that they would actually want to come?

I don't like parties or those kinds of people. I guess part of the heart of it would be that I am afraid of hurt. I was hurt quite badly when I was little, by my peers. Everyone was, I realize that. I also know that that's why I can't remember much of my younger years-- elementary school is pretty much nonexistent in my head as are most of middle school...and now large chunks of high school, too. Most of my friends have a lot of memories of those times-- or so it seems-- but I really don't. I know that when I was little I wanted to make a list of all the things I saw and hated in people so that if I had children, I could share it with them and maybe spare them some of what I went through. I wasn't physically hurt by anyone...no, it was based in alienation, instead. And I feel that the aftereffects of that time have had a resounding effect on me now. I think the only people I really, truly trust in this world are my immediate family members and my grandparents.

Part of me really wants to believe that my friends think wonderful things about me sometimes-- that they see something in me worth loving. Part of me really wonders if they have some kind of ulterior motive or maybe they just kept me around as some kind of joke. It's sad to think that the latter sentence actually has some solid bearing or at least it once did when I was younger.

I know I have really good qualities. I also know there are things about me people don't like and some of those things are things that I don't like about myself. Other things are things I enjoy about myself, so they can just fuck off about those...but there are times when I look at situations that have happened and I wonder how they got me so wrong and I the same. Especially those that have known me for a long time...
The specific people in question here don't know me very well...but I did have a very high opinion of a couple of them and to have that firm belief shattered so fully and thrown back in my face hurts so freaking bad. I haven't hurt this bad in a long time, actually...and I hate the thought of how it happened to come about.

What sucks the most about, though, is the fact that though I may be able to shut out the incident and act fine, the doubts are still going to be there. Especially since I have this somewhat developing relationship that I do not want to mess up.

So the next strain of thought would be "Well, stop caring about it and just be you". This is part of me and the times when I do break out and be myself and think things are going smoothly, this is what happens. At least when I am cautious, I have some kind of forewarning. But I felt comfortable around these people. I felt I could open up a little bit and drop my walls a bit. And this is what happened. I know I should learn from it and move on-- but what I am learning from it is that I shouldn't be like that. I know I need to watch it or else I'll clam up completely, but it's so hard to resist the call of withdrawing when this kind of thing slaps you in the face when you least expect it. This kind of thing just reinforces my self-teaching of don't be so sure, don't assume, don't judge because you never know. And I don't ever know. I have strong percentages, but not solid trust in anybody.

And I wish I did.

My mantra is honesty...mainly because I don't want to put someone through this kind of thing when I have the power to do so. So I stay honest (with tact and sometime subtlety) because that is what I would want in return.

I think the worst thing about this kind of hurt is that during and afterwards, I feel so awkward. The nature of Doubt is awkwardness and insecurity... and I have both in full right now. I feel awkward about my opinion of myself...and how I carry myself. I'm insecure about how I appear to be to those I actually care for. But the worst of the worst is not feeling comfortable enough to talk to anyone about it. We've all felt something akin to this... and there are some people I know who would read this or upon hearing this would jump on me with like eight different "You're not the only one"s, which is so disrespectful. That just shuts me up even more. Then the pressure builds and I'm left once again with doubt feeding on more doubt.
It's better to be able to speak about it with someone, but it's hard to do so when you are suffering from it at it's height.

I would really love to talk to my new interest about it, but I'm not sure what I'd say and in light of this development, I don't think I could trust him or myself enough to do so. I would like to think he'd understand and be empathetic and thus be someone worth sharing it with, but there is a chance he'd turn about and hand me another slap. I would like to think the percentage of that happening is pretty low, but it's not nonexistent enough for me to bother opening up to him.

Well, the sun is now fully up and I am exhausted. Looks like I'm going to be missing out on God's day today. I'll go find an evening service to attend later, as I haven't really gone to bed yet. I think I slept from 12:30-2:30ish a.m. and then have been up since. Such an unpleasant night.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

A Surprise Recipe of Sorts

Current Weight: 174 (booya)

Okay, so I have a tendency to just throw things into a pot and eat them. For the most part, I am awesome at pulling this off looking somewhat professional about it. I love that about cooking.
And yesterday, I made something really good and I loves it.
Thus, I am going to share it in a semi-formal recipe format. The only difference being that there aren't going to be any actual measurements involved. It's all entirely customizable.

Currently, my new creation is called Samantha's Unexpectedly Delicious Bran Mash.
Sounds yummy and indistinguishable, right? Well, it is. ^^ A little bit of backstory: My mom is really big into oatmeal. I'm kinda sorta not really into oatmeal. I mean, I like it but I don't love it. It never sticks with me like real cereal does and I really can't add enough to it to make it tastefully pleasurable on a level that makes it worth eating. Usually we just throw some brown sugar in it with some milk. It's okay, but not enough punch for me. I've made a peach topping to go in it, an apple cinnamon concoction to go in it, I've mixed all sorts of things and still the oatmeal doesn't pop right. I'm a Bran flake girl. So, then I got an idea. Make a bran-type of "oatmeal". So, I did. And it's sooooo good.

Bran Mash
You will need the following to create the "original" Bran Mash made awesome by me (ingredients first, followed by equipment):
  • A bowl of bran flakes-- no raisins, unless, that is you like that kind of thing. You may need to get an off-brand flake. I prefer the generic Wal-Mart one because the flakes have more body to them and aren't as thin as the Kellogg's All-Bran is.
  • Skim or low-fat milk-- I am on a "diet" here. I will say it would probably be creamier with a higher fat count, but skim works just fine in this instance (you just need the moisture anyway)
  • Ground cinnamon (fresh or the cheaper but just as good ground kind)
  • Ground cloves (same as above)
  • Pumpkin or Apple butter (this is optional and just reinforces the spices above)
  • A whole peach-- Doesn't matter what kind. Which ever you prefer. Actually, any fruit will do for this recipe, but this is what I've had around, so this is the original fruit for it. I will eventually play around with banana, apple, strawberry, and other fruit mash, then post edited recipes accordingly.
  • A couple pinches of sugar
  • A very small pinch of salt
  • A ziploc bag of some type
  • A medium-sized, shallow sauce pan
  • Spoon or cooking spatula with a silicon head (gentler than a spoon)
Okay, once you have assembled these ingredients, you can begin making this tasty creation.
  1. You must first take your bowl of bran flakes (however much you want for one serving-- for this recipe, I would use about a cup full) and dump it into the ziploc bag. Seal it and then just kind of smash the flakes a bit. If you bought a brand of flakes that has thinner flakes, you can skip this. This is just to make it more uniform. If you want bigger flakes, then smash accordingly or not at all. Up to you. Once you have them to the level of uniformity you desire, set them aside.
  2. Next, take your peach (or whatever fruit you have selected), clean it, skin it, and cut it up into smallish chunks or slices-- to cut down on clean up, use the recently emptied bran bowl to store the peaches until needed. The size of the peach bits is up to you. I've done a mix-- if you want to peach to be in every bite and thus not so obvious, you could mash it up a bit. Doesn't matter. Sprinkle just a little bit of sugar on the slices and set aside. [You can do this step ahead of time and refrigerate-- that way the sugar will draw out more juice. Or if you don't want all the juice, ignore the sugar at this step]
  3. Take the sauce pan and put it over lowish heat. Anywhere between 2 and 4 on a regular oven. Now you want to pour in enough skim milk to cover the bottom. It should only be about 1/4 of a cup or thereabouts. If you don't have much peach juice, you may want to put in a little more milk.
  4. While the milk is warming, toss in a few dashes of cinnamon and cloves each. Not too much, just enough to see the spices floating here and there in the milk. Stir slowly with a spoon or cooking spatula.
  5. After a few minutes, the milk should be pretty warm, at this point, if you wish, you could plop in about a spoonful of pumpkin butter (I recommend this, as it helps emphasize the spice, but also adds another taste to the milk, but this is optional). Stirring this into the milk is easier to accomplish with a spatula. The milk should turn a kind of nut color once it is fully incorporated. At this point, you may sprinkle in a little bit of sugar AND a tiny dash of salt.
  6. I usually let the flavors meld a bit at this stage, before I go any farther. The taste of the milk shouldn't be overpoweringly full of spice or anything-- more of a mellow mix. The salt and sugar just kind of help bring out the the other flavors.
  7. After everything is blended together, it's time to dump in the bruised bran flakes. Pour them into the pan and stir until all the flakes/flake bits have been coated. Keep stirring slowly as they break down. This is essential because if you add the peaches too soon, the juice will mix with the milk and cause it to separate out like acids do to milk, so make sure that the mixture in the pan looks more like generic hot cereal in texture before adding the peaches.
  8. It should only take a few minutes for the flakes to combine with the flavored milk. At that point, you should add the peaches and turn the heat up just a bit, so they can cook down as well. This stage can vary in time depending on what you want out of it. I, personally, want the peaches to be hot and thus will let them cook for a bit.
  9. When you think it's done to your liking, pour it into a bowl and enjoy.
And that's my Bran Mash recipe. I've had it about three times in the past four days. It's really freaking good, and I can't wait to try it with different fruits. I'm really leaning towards a blackberry mash with maybe some honey or something.

Anyway, try it out and experiment to your heart's content. I promise you, it's good.

Monday, July 9, 2007

I'm always walking with you But I look and you're not there

Okay, so this has nothing to do with my journal's intent, but I love this song and felt like plastering the lyrics all up on my blog. ^^

The lyrics are just so aching to me. If you can find the Liz Durrett version, you should listen to it. I like Cat's but hers just has a very solemn feel to it-- one you don't really notice entirely until about halfway through the second verse.

I love this song, but I think I need to not listen to it. It'll make me float all sad-like and I'll start remembering bittersweet memories better left unearthed.



How Can I Tell You

( Cat Stevens Cover )

How can I tell you
That I love you, I love you
But I can't think of right words to say
I long to tell you that Im always thinking of you
That I'm always thinking of you
I'm always thinking of you
But my words just blow away
Just blow away
It always ends up to one thing, honey
And I can't think of right words to say

Wherever I am, I'm always walking with you
I'm always walking with you
But I look and you're not there
Whoever I'm with
I'm always talking to you
I'm always talking to you
And I'm sad that you can't hear
Sad that you can't hear
It always ends up to one thing, honey
When I look and you're not there

I need to know you
Need to feel my arms around you
Feel my arms around you
Like a sea around a shore
And each night and day I pray
In hope that I might find you
In hope that I might find you
Because hearts can do no more
It always ends up to one thing honey
Still I kneel upon the floor

How can I tell you that I love you
I love you but I can't think of right words to say
I long to tell you that I'm always thinking of you
I'm always thinking of you
It always ends up to one thing honey
And I can't think of right words to say

A bit late yet right on time

Current Weight: 175...ish

I didn't post on friday because I was lazy and didn't want to.
But, as of this morning, I've hit my 10lb-marker. w00t.

A cool side-note: I'm making hand-made hiragana and katakana flashcards for myself. Apparently the Japanese class on campus is super hard and it goes pretty fast, soooo in my attempt to get all As this coming semester, I'm determined to have complete memorization of the standard hiragana and katakana as well as a few of the beginning kanji. The cards take FOREVER to make. As in, I worked about seven to eight hours on them on friday and I didn't even finish the first syllabary. I have since completed the hiragana, though. I just need to start the katakana, which I will probably do later this week. (Class projects are probably going to interfere for a few days, that and I don't like the look of katakana so I will most definitely drag my feet on this one)

In other news, my mom and I are going to be traveling to San Francisco in a few weeks. I'm excited. I have a friend who lives out there that I haven't met yet (ah, the beautiful era of cyber-friendship). He's a pretty swell guy, so hopefully he'll be able to squeeze me in while I'm out there.
I'm also excited because I'll finally be able to satisfy my annoyingly incessant desire for miso ramen and GOOD gyoza. There is a very obvious deficiency of these two lovely food items in the Midwest. It is so very annoying, for I love it so.

And I was going to type more, but I'm pretty sleepy. That, and I'm fighting off a wimpy cough that I seem to have acquired from a friend of mine. >.<

Sooooo, I'm going to go take a nap.

Sunday, July 1, 2007

Early post

Current Weight: 176-177

So, the scale is lying again: I know I weigh more, but I'm going to record it this way before I actually do weigh more. I didn't get to the gym this weekend like I had hoped since I was blindsided by my period and felt like crap the day I needed to run by the office and fix my ID card.
Then it pretty much rained incessantly for the remainer of the weekend, thus rendering my walk nigh impossible.
But, after class tomorrow I'm going to traipse on over to the gym and get my card fixed so I can start kicking the crap out of myself on the elliptical again.

Come friday, I hope to have passed the 10lb-marker. Which means I'm somewhere between one-fourth and one-fifth of the way there (I may strive to be in the 130s.)