Where we're going, we won't need eyes to see.

Thanks, Kitty. Just roll all over my wet laundry. 

My Halloween costume came in the post today...

And from the back:

YES, I know it's only April, but good costumes take lots of planning ahead of time. I still have to make some alterations, and get a bigger pannier for maximum hippage.

Plus friend and I are taking the dress on a spring photo shoot, because it will look nice among flowers and historic buildings. 

Saw a friend of Mum's today--a lady I haven't seen in a long time. She takes one look at me and goes, "OH MY GOD, you're skin and bone!!" 

I had to stop for a sec and check that there was no one behind me, because obviously she can't have meant ME. 

Apparently she did mean me. 

I then had to take a moment to compose myself, because when I say what I'm thinking in these situations ("Are you kidding? I'm  WHALE.") people look at me funny. 


I wish I could see what she saw. Just once.


Kazehana did a post about this not too long ago--about how your eyes tell you something completely different than your other senses, when it comes to your body. I can feel my ribs sometimes, and my hip bones; but I look in the mirror, and usually I want to crawl into a hole and never come out. Because obviously I'm fat. My hands that feel for bones, and the people who tell me I'm skinny are lying. They have to be. Because if I was skinny, I would SEE that I'm skinny, right? 


IT JUST DOESN'T MAKE ANY BLOODY SENSE. And I think I'm a fairly rational sort of person in general. 
...Most of the time. 


But this just blows my mind. How can I not see what's actually there? I'm not on drugs. I'm not having an acid flashback. I'm staring in the mirror at myself nude and seeing a fat person. So it has to be real.


I debated doing this for some time, but I think I'm just going to post the photos. I may take them down later, when I look back on this entry in abject horror at the barely-censored photos of my hugeness. 


I took these photos today, to see if maybe I'd be able to see myself properly in a photo--I thought maybe looking at myself in some way other than through a mirror, I might see what other people see.

But no. I'm still huge. My Problem Spots may as well have spotlights on them.

Too much fat. Some days I can't handle it. 


I'm like halfway through the epic illustration of Kazehana's dream! Be excited. 


xoxo

Try eating omelettes now, Denver.

I hate mouth ulcers!!! >:( Or cantankerous sores like they call them in the States. That sounds like it should be a dinosaur. 

CANTANKEROUSSAURUS!!!

 And you never get just one. You get at least 4. 

I hardly ever go out anymore. Going out means dinner in restaurants, possible alcohol consumption, and subsequent bingeing and/or anxiety attacks. And in general, I don't feel as social as I did a few years ago. I'm too tired. 

On Mondays, I go to a writing group. Or workshop. Or something. We gather in either the Montclair High School or in someone's house, and sit and do writing exercises and then read our stuff aloud to each other, and comment on each other's writing (positive feedback only). It's awesome. I've been doing this pretty much non-stop since last August, with maybe the odd break of 2 weeks. 

It's basically me and 6-12 other women between the ages of 40-something and 70. We're actually getting cliquey now. The same bunch of 7 of us have been in these groups together since the beginning, and I think we're scaring away the new people. We actually had a BOY join up in the beginning of March (!!!). He was probably my age. And we got a new girl around my age as well. They've both skipped the last 2 Mondays. I've gotten to be pretty good buddies with two of the women in particular, and we're planning a bird-watching adventure when the weather gets warmer.

Little Sis and Mum seem to think this is funny. 

I'm in the process of Reorganizing my bedroom. 

What that really means is that at some point in the recent past, I began obsessing over a particular portion of my Hoard (current phase: My Little Ponies). I took all of them out. Admired them. Cleaned them up and made them look extra pretty. Compulsively purchased more. And during this stage, the My Little Ponies slowly took over my entire bedroom. 

Mum said it best: "Your room looks like a My Little Pony stud farm."

I justify this by saying, "I'm reorganizing them."

Mum catches on after a couple days, which means I start packing all of the ponies back up into their boxes to stuffing them under the bed. And maybe I'll eventually put away all the stuff that I just left laying around the room because I've been too preoccupied with the My Little Ponies to put anything away properly.

I do the same thing with books. My bookshelves get a complete makeover every few months, as far as which genres are in which section, and how they're arranged. The non-fiction is currently following a strange system in which the books are ordered by the rules of that game, the 6 Degrees of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. 

See if you can spot the pattern:

This weekend, I am going to try and clean. Properly clean. Even ::gasp:: throw things away. I might vlog it. There will be much flailing involved.




OMG, I ate CHEESE the other day! 


I made mini pizzas for myself and Little Sis. Took all of 2 minutes to make, and they were pretty delicious. (I will sometimes eat cooked mozzarella because it doesn't really have a flavor--these occasions are quite rare). 


To make:
I used those 100 calorie flat bread things; 1 tablespoon of marinara and 1/8 cup of shredded mozzarella for each slice of bread, so your mini pizza is roughly 100 calories.

And you just pop it in the toaster oven for a few minutes, until the cheese melts. 

I think I overcooked them slightly, but if you like thin and crispy pizza dough, then they came out perfect.