Good Morning, Chiklits

Thank goodness it's a short week.

Off to NY Thursday night.

Only 3 days of mind-numbing desk jockey work until then! Yay!

Lemons and Melons and Pears, Oh My

I'm just gonna second Scalzi:

Now things get really interesting.

Blog Down

I'll see you all Tuesday.

I have a shitload of work to do...

A Million People Homeless

Still trying to get my head around that one, let alone the fact that an entire city just basically sank.

I'm reminded of a local city of mine that did a similiar disappearing act. They didn't recover. Try finding Vanport, Oregon today:

Vanport, the 2nd largest city in Oregon and the largest public housing project in the nation was flooded when a dike holding back the Columbia River gave way at 4:05 p.m. on May 30, 1948. Vanport, 15-feet below Columbia's water level, was completely underwater by nightfall. Fifteen people died in the flood. Houses were washed off of their foundations and the entire town was lost.

Vanport, a combined name of the nearby cities -- Vancouver and Portland -- has been erased off maps and all visible traces of the city have disappeared.

Just like that.

I Miss Beating the Crap Out of Stuff

I've spent the last week or so mourning (again) the loss of my martial arts and boxing classes.

A lot of it was the money. Paying $120 a month was killing me. So was the commute. Going downtown and back two or three times a week, catching buses, trains, transferring, was wearing me out. I was also plugged into making class times, whereas with a gym, I've got more freedom as to when I go. And a lot of it was that the last few months (like, FOUR) of my membership, I just wasn't going. I had a bunch of flying to do with the job earlier this year, then problems with the pill, then three months of hell while my body adjusted to the IUD.

But I miss it. A lot.

I miss beating the crap out of stuff twice a week, working out my aggression. I miss hanging out in a class with a bunch of buff people, many of whom are women who aren't afraid to look buff. I miss the rush of confidence after class. I miss that kind of strength.

Sure, I go to the gym, and I'm looking buffer now than I did then, actually, cause I'm targeting other stuff and eating much better than I did while in MA classes.

But there's something different that happens when you beat stuff up for a few hours a week. Something different in the way you hold yourself, the way you look at people. And I miss that.

The first thing I do when I move next year is find a boxing gym.

I mean, after I get a job.

Yea. Sure.

Revenge of the Binge

The last couple of nights, I've been stopping off at the local pharmacy before I get home and greedily stocking up on chocolate and twinkies and those ritz crackers with the processed cheese in them.

Monday I did OK. I bought four chocolate bars, had a bite of each, and threw them away. Not bad.

I could cope.

Yesterday I got through the donut, the cookie, and yogurt pretzels before I managed to stop. I threw away the twinkies and the king-sized chocolate bar uneaten. I could have just stopped at the yogurt pretzels. Nothing wrong with eating some yogurt pretzels if you're hungry, but when I'm freaking out about food, I obsessively grab anything I can get my hands on.

It's not even about eating it. I throw most of it away. Realizing I could feel just as good buying it, eating one thing, and throwing the rest away was pretty liberating. But that's the fascinating part about it: it's not the eating, it's the having stuff to eat part that I'm craving.

The thing with knowing I'm a binge eater is knowing exactly what's triggering the obsessive need for a calorie-rush composed mainly of sugar and salt in processed food form. I didn't buy myself lunches this week, and was too tired to cook lunches on Sunday, which turned into me frantically looking through the freezer, finding something sub-par, trying to eat it at work and gagging on it, and being starving by the time I went home. I tried loading up on other frozen meals, but I bought cheap sub-par ones again because the choices at the place I stopped were limited, so Tuesday I was freaking out as well.

I'm also seriously stressed out, and stress is a big trigger. I know it's stress because it's the acquiring of the food that seems to be the part I'm really, really craving. The hunger part could be satisfied with one serving of something. The binge part has to do with stress. When I'm stressed out, I want food around me. It's the idea that I somehow internalized growing up, "If we have food, everything will be OK."

And being stressed, I also crave a sugar high, which would certainly make me feel less depressed - for a short while, until I came down off it and spent the rest of the night looking and feeling despondent. Which, of course, is exactly what happened.

Binge behavior is really, really weird. It's almost weirder now that I buy stuff and just throw it away. It seems ever more weird and hysterical than actually sitting down and eating ever everything did. I mean, eating would make more sense. It would be more clearly about hunger. But then, of course, it's not, so obsessive-collecting behavior makes more sense.

The moral of the story is: I've gotta fucking take care of my food issues at lunch and not try and cut calories there or eat something sub-par that's primarily composed of processed foods stripped of all nutritional content.

It's a great way to send me tail-spinning.

And that's not a place I need to be right now.

What a Boring Frickin Day

Please call me back, Sarah! I want to go HOME!!!

The Boys Do Dove

Dove soap’s European-wide "Campaign for Real Beauty" has taken on a local twist in Düsseldorf, Germany. The people next door at the local Ogilvy & Mather office have not only sold their souls to their client, but their bodies as well. These local posters are being used in conjunction with the real "Real" campaign and placed on bus stop shelters. The headline reads: "They’re not models, just soft Dove admen from Ogilvy Düsseldorf."















That's awesome.

(thanks, b!)

Writing Today

Unsurprisingly.

Now I'm really behind.

Song for the day: My Chemical Romance, "I'm not OK"

Persistence

Is up.

The Agent Responds

This is going to be a busier weekend than I'd planned.

Writing Today

Have I mentioned what a great book this is going to be?













It's going to be great. In a fun way.

Boxers

Is is wrong that I find it terribly amusing that I've got a section labeled "Boxers" on my character list for God's War?

heh heh heh

Talk Like A Pirate is Coming!!

Mark your calendars!!!

September 19th is....

Talk like a pirate day! You can bet it will be a regular celebration here at BW.

Smart Women Don't Get Laid

And anyway, everyone knows men are smarter.

Friday Whiskey Blogging

Because it's Friday!!!

Wooooot!!!

Whiskey is My Friend

In any case, I sure did sleep well.

Dead day at work today. Should have some ranting up soon.

Dear Santa:

I know it is quite early to be thinking of Christmas, dearest Santa Claus, but I've been lusting for many things for the last two years that I don't seem to know how to aquire for myself.

I suppose I have not recieved them as yet because I'm not a very good girl, but you know, I haven't gotten any coal, switches, or rocks either, so it's not that I'm bad.

Perhaps you have just forgotten me. After all, my address has changed many times and I've switched continents twice! So I am writing this letter to remind you that Brutal Women have needs, too.

Please send me:

1) A flat-screen monitor.

This makes writing and computer game playing very good, as my laptop has the smallest screen ever. I promise that I will solve Myst III: Revelation if you send this to me.

2) Wireless mouse and keyboard. I saw this at Costco for like $39.99

3) A free standing punching bag.

Because you know all the fun I'll git up to with that.

4) I also have a Wish List, because I am shameless.

Thank you, and goodnight.

Wishes,

Kameron Hurley

P.S. It sucks being old. I should get some compensation for no longer getting presents. Like superpowers. I should be able to fly, or some shit like that.

To Work, To Work

Ok. I've reworked all of my novel writing schedules so the two books I'm working on will get done on time. I've fallen behind on my schedule, and I need to get back on track. This means a whirlwind writing weekend over labor day.

And here's some breathing space, courtesy of New Zealand:

Good Bye, Viagra Guy

A Farewell Letter to Viagra guy:

Good bye, Viagra guy.

Congrats, good luck at your new job! I sure as hell am glad you got hired on somewhere else.

I do not envy your new coworkers.

Oh, hurrah, I shall never have to listen to you again at 8am on a Monday morning trying to make small talk about the consistency of coffee creamer.

Truly, the the universe is merciful.

Goodbye!