Feces to Fertilizer

Graphic, I know. But just roll with it a moment.

One of my oldest and dearest friendships is with a curly haired cello-playing goddess by the name of Liz. Liz is flaky. Flaky McFlighty. It's a wonder our friendship has survived for 14 years, but it has. I love Liz something fierce and no amount of flake or flight will change that. Growing up, Liz had bunk beds in her bedroom. She and I would lay on the lower portion of the bunk and write memories on the exposed natural wood beams from the upper portion of the bunk. One of our favorite quotes at the time said something to the effect of true friends seeing you not as a you are, but as what you wish you could be. We loved that quote. Wrote it everywhere, including the graffiti'ed bunk bed. And I think that sums up why no matter how flaky Liz is, I will always love her. And I know that no matter how judgemental, or condescending I can be, Liz will always love me.

Fertilizer, I know. I'm getting there.

The past 48 hours have been rough. But I dug in...deep. I went to group today. I meditated. I threw myself into my work. I talked through my hurt with someone I trust and love. I knitted. I talked on the phone and watched reality TV. And in the end I did it. Instead of taking all the crap I was wading in yesterday and making it deeper and uglier and scarier, I changed it to fertilizer. I had some help along the way, don't get me wrong. But I still stopped, looked around, and decided that flowers are a lot prettier than dead weeds. And I'm counting on tulips.

Self magazine voted San Francisco as the healthiest city in America. Ironically, it also is ranked number one for the fewest number of people per capita on a diet. There were more positive statistics regarding the city in the article I read, and this wasn't just an independent study done by the editors at Self. It makes me feel like the universe is collaborating to will me back to the scent of salty air and soreness in my thighs from stomping up hills. I'm coming back...I promise.

We bring ourselves down
And build ourselves up in disappointment
How fragile we are
So fragile we are, we just don't show it
We'll shake up this town
And shoot down the stars for our enjoyment

I'm having a really hard time today and I'm not sure what else to do but write.

Fucking Thanksgiving. It's bad enough that we celebrate one day solely by overeating. Instead of just ending with one day, it's like the world is given carte blanche to extend in to the weekend. I purged last night. And I am so twisted up from it that I can barely breathe. The thing I hate the most is that it just hit me so hard, and so familiarly that I can't re-center myself. There I was, 4AM and still on a rush from the endorphins. And now here I am, physically sore and emotionally depleted and I just wish I could make it go away. And this is the worst possible to week for me to feel anything but on top of my game.

I'm so tired.

Freddie Prune Gives Good Head

I now have a new reason to love Oliver Platt. His character on Nip/Tuck is helping restore my faith in a show that was quickly turning from debauched and depraved to dismal and disappointing. Alliteration, you are my friend.

It's not just Olly that is sparking my mini-masms, no. The show has taken back its acerbically sexual undertone and tortured man-glam from one Dr. Christian Troy. The world, my friends, is once again as it should be.

Thanksgiving festivities have commenced a whole 48 hours in advance for me. Today was 'Potluck Day,' at the job and I left work feeling beyond satiated. I'm staring down the barrel of my worst fear right now - an excuse to overeat in a social setting. So what then is stopping me from completely losing my mind during all of this gluttony and gravy-based camaraderie? The fact that I am just breaths away from going four months without purging. This is the longest I have gone since I've been bulimic. I feel too triumphant at this point to let a little tryptophan high stand in the way of four-motherfucking-months (yep, I said it) of recovery. So fluff off cheesy potato casserole. Love don't live here no more.

And can someone puh-lease explain the rationale behind wearing denim miniskirts and Ugg boots at the same time? I hail from a region of the country that is battered by about eight solid months of winter. I mean snow, ice, more snow, bitter temperatures, icy roads, snow, wind-chill factors, and frost bite. Oh, and more snow. Wearing giant Eskimo boots with exposed ass cheeks is like a slap in the face with an ice scraper. Either it's winter or it's not. And we all know your feet are sweaty and smelly despite your attempt to look saucy. The gig is up.

I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay
Watching the tide roll away
Ooo, I'm just sittin' on the dock of the bay
Wastin' time

Bored at Work

1. Are you ready for 100 questions? As ready as I’ll ever be.
2. Do you watch college football? Yep – especially Big 10.
3. Who will fill this survey out after you? Umm, I’m not sure that anyone will.
4. Who was the last person to send you a text message? Dan
5. Do you love anyone? Yes
6. Are you happy? Yes
7. Where was the last place you went shopping? Publix
8. How do you feel about your hair? I yike it.
9. Where do you work? Kroll
10. Last thing you ate/drank? Reese’s Pieces (thanks Julie!)
11. Do you wish you were someplace else right now? Yes, home and under my covers.
12. Do you have any pet peeves? A few…
13. Do you have any expensive jewelry? Yes, at my mother’s house.
14. AIM or Yahoo? MSN
15. Do you like math? I like numbers, but not math.
16. How many hours on average do you work a week: 50
18. Favorite baseball team? Detroit Tigers
19. Favorte NBA team? Detroit Pistons
20. Do you watch the Olympics? Yes! I love the Olympics.
21. Last restaurant you went to? Amerigo’s
22. Who was the last person to call you? My mama
23. What’s your sign? Aries
24. Do you have a favorite number? 4
25. Last time you did volunteer work or made any donations? Last month for the Diabetes Walk in Nashville.
26. What do you spend the majority of your money on? Rent and my car.
27. Where does your family live? Michigan, Chicago
28. Are you an only child or do you have siblings? Two little brothers
29. Ever been called a bitch? A few times.
30. Got any guilty pleasures? More than I care to admit.
31. Do you drink beer? More often than I care to admit.
32. Whats your favorite color? I don’t really have a favorite – I like lots of colors.
33. Did you ever collect Beanie Babies? No. Stop it.
34. Ever bought anything online? Of course.
35. Myspace or Facebook? MySpace.
36. Do you have T-Mobile? I do! I love it.
38. Do you sometimes wish you were someone else? Not someone else perse, but in a different situation.
41. Last time you saw your parents? Last month.
42. Do you have any talents? I can play the nose flute and I do impersonations.
43. Ever been in a wedding? A few.
44. Do you have any children? Nope.
45. Last movie you watched? Friends With Money.
46. Are you missing anyone at the moment? Very much so.
47. Did you take a nap today? No, but that sounds wonderful.
49. Ever been on a cruise? I have!
50. Did you notice number 40 was missing? Actually 30 and 40 are missing. Douche.
52. Do you have any wealthy friends? All my friends are wealthy in love.
53. Ever met anyone famous before? I have
54. Favorite actor? Edward Norton
55. Favorite actress? Frances McDormand
56. Are you multi-tasking right now? I am
57. Could you handle being in the military? Nooooo way.
58. Are you hungry or thirsty? A bit thirsty.
59. Favorite fast food restaurant? Hmmm…probably Taco Bell.
61. What is your average cell phone bill? $75.00
62. Do you own a camera phone? Nope.
63. Ever had to take a sobriety test? Nope.
64. Do you believe in Karma? I believe in the concept of karma.
65. Can you speak any other languages? Not really. I can read conversational French.
66. Last time you went to the gym or worked out? Last week
67. How many pairs of shoes do you own? Somewhere around 20
68. Do you have a photo hosting site that you use? Nope.
69. Last place you were? Before work? My house I suppose.
70. What is your college mascot? Trojan.
71. Ever been to Las Vegas? Sadly, I have not.
76. Have you ever been gambling? Yes.
77. How old are your parents? 49 and 54
78. When is the last time you updated your blog? Last night
79. Do you have your wisdom teeth? I have two left.
80. Favorite place to be? The beach
81. Have you been to New York City? Yep, a couple times
82 Favorite sit down restaurant? Park Café or Peter’s for sushi.
83. Ever been to Disney Land? No
84. Do you have a favorite cartoon character? I used to be a big fan of Rainbow Brite.
85. Last thing you cooked? Pasta
86. How is the weather today? Kind of cloudy and balmy.
87. Do you email? Do I email? Is this a trick question?
88. Last letter/piece of mail you received besides junk or a bill? My Netflix DVDs.
89. Last missed call? J-Balla
91. Last voicemail you received? J-Balla
92. Do you drunk dial/text? It’s my specialty.
93. Stupidest thing you ever did with your cell phone? One time I dropped my phone in the toilet at a party. I was too grossed out to fish it out so I just left it there.
94. What is the best city in the state that you live in? Nashville I suppose.
96. Did you just die? What?
97. Are you bored right now? Yes – I cannot concentrate on work.
98. Last concert you went to? Green Day.
99. What do you think about before you go to bed? This really tall, dark, and handsome drink of water that I am so lucky to have in my life.
100. What are your plans for tomorrow? Work, work, and more work. And my TV night.

Into Marvelous Light I'm Running

Today at church, the pastor talked about the idea of authentic community. Authentic community is a big catch phrase amongst Christian hipsters, but its fundamental meaning is of something to take note.

I've lived in Nashville now for over four years, and I am just getting to the place where I feel like I am establishing something resembling an authentic community. What has become blatantly obvious to me over the past few weeks, is that friendships formed based on a common interest may not always be the most fulfilling for me. I used to try to surround myself with people who I thought were a lot like me. What I find is that I tend to let my personality - my being - take a backseat to make these friendships work. I'm finally starting to see that I'm missing out on a lot of great human interaction and causing myself a lot of hardship in the meantime.

I made friends with a girl named Sarah when I first moved to Nashville. We quickly hit it off because we were both from Michigan and subsequently both experiencing the culture shock of life below the Mason-Dixon line. We remained friends for just over a year, and then as quickly as we bonded, we broke apart. I tried for months to patch things up with Sarah, but it just wasn't going to happen. I finally realized how much I'd been settling in our friendship; I finally realized how much of myself I'd compromised to keep Sarah's ego in tact because I so desperately thought I needed her friendship.

I'm going through a very similar experience now, only with a lot more pain involved. When Sarah and I parted ways, I turned to my eating disorder to cope. Now, I'm actually dealing with the way I feel about a friend who has betrayed me and who has hurt me to the core. Forgiveness is a really tough pill to swallow. Probably worse than forgiveness is forgetfulness. I think in this case I'm trying to forgive both myself and my friend. It hurts deep and true and so real that sometimes I'm mad at God for creating us as such fallible creatures. I hate that I have to feel so disgusted at someone. I hate that I have to feel like such a failure as a person.

All of this is to say that I don't think authentic community stems from people gathering based on a commonality. I have found the unlikeliest of friends from simply opening my mind up to the idea of getting to know someone because they are different than me. If nothing else, I think I'm experiencing a lot of pain right now to learn that friendships can be mutually fulfilling. And that I am loved because of who I am, not because I serve as some sort of puppet for the emotionally malnourished.

'Cause this is a battle
And its your final last call
It was a trial, you made a mistake, we know
But why aren't you sorry, why aren't you sorry, why?
This can be better, you used to be happy, try!

Like A Sneaker on a Live Wire, Dangling

It is a sad day when one of my guiltiest pleasures leaves me feeling…well, without pleasure. I had approached fall with an unbridled sense of excitement over the promise of a fabulous Tuesday evening television lineup. My two favorite programs – House and Nip/Tuck – are now scheduled on Tuesday night, one right after the other.

The last two weeks, I have come home on Tuesday night, made a delicious dinner and adjusted my bed pillows to achieve maximum comfort. I settle in, remote control in hand, and wait for that comfortable feeling of numb brain to sink in. The last two weeks, I have been sorely disappointed.

First, can we put some more characters on House? Last season, House’s entire staff either quit or resigned. This season, we pull out all the bells and whistles to hire a new staff – complete with hottie Olivia Wilde, and that dude who is either Harold or Kumar – I can’t remember which. Now this week, we bring out the quasi-famous Michael Michele? Weak. Weak! How many medical dramas can this woman guest star on? ER, a couple cancelled pilot episodes of a random doctor show, I think I even remember her on Chicago Hope. What the H?!?! If the writers of the show end up creating a romance between her and House’s characters, I may have to consider burning my television.

So let us discuss Nip/Tuck, shall we? My loyalty runs a bit deeper for this program; I have watched it since its inception, and Dr. Troy has been the subject of many a masturbatory fantasy for me. That aside, I am nervous that the writers may be grasping this season. Last year, Troy and McNamara moved their practice from the sultry beachside of Miami to the vapid and contumelious Hollywood. This move apparently warrants the onslaught of guest appearances from an odd combination of B-listers, impersonators, and Lauren Hutton. I will contend that Portia DiRossi looked wicked hot in last night’s episode, but she only appeared for about five minutes of the show. But Daphne Zuniga? Marilyn Monroe look-alikes? The gay mafia? And to top it all off, we have to run a story-line about Dr. Troy being a middle aged has-been? Show a girl some love!

I turned off the TV last night and rolled over to a feeling of uncertainty. How can the world be right without the cocky swagger of a lady-killer like Christian Troy? How can I fall fast into a satiated sleep without the snarkey rebuttals of Dr. House dancing through my dreams? Why is the world plotting against me?

It's a longshot
She's got the truth and her tongue for a slingshot
But she's taking steady aim at the big shot
It's hard to miss the rolling bullets on the blacktop
Better mark it, your turf

She's coming up from, coming up from, coming up
Coming up from Behind. Yeah.
She's coming up from, coming up from, coming up
Coming up from Behind

Luckiest

I saw Ben Folds today at the diner where I had lunch. He was sitting on the same side of the booth as the girl he was with, and his cool quotient dropped a few points because of it. Couples who sit on the same side of the booth weird me out. I like to look a person in the eye when I’m talking, not stare down the depths of an ear canal.

I love Nashville in November. It smells woodsy and fresh and crisp outside. I can wear a jacket without getting warm, and boots without looking silly. November also brings the promise of the holidays. I’m so excited for Christmas this year. It’s not even that I love Christmas itself, I love the time surrounding Christmas. I love decorating, baking, shopping, and listening to Christmas music. But mostly I love the onslaught of clay-mation movies that pop up during the holidays. There is nothing better than sipping some Baileys and hot chocolate and watching Rudolph get his feelings hurt.

I decided I’m going to submit something to the Burnside Writer’s Collective. Which means I may actually have to grow balls and possibly a beard to build up the cahones necessary to submit a piece. This also means I’m going to have to write something BWC worthy. My friend sent me a copy of Free Will, and it inspired me to write like the good philosophy major I played in a past life. But I don’t want to straddle the religion/spirituality line too much. I think instead, I’m going to do something on eating disorders or social body consciousness. I’m feeling very analytical on that topic as of late.

What if I’d been born 50 years before you
In a house on the street where you lived
Maybe I’d be outside as you passed on your bike
Would I know?
And in a wide sea of eyes
I see one pair I recognize
And I know…