My New Self

Every couple of months, I get on a health kick and eat really healthy for a month or so. Then, there's a sale on potato chips... and all my resolve goes out in the trash with the empty bags. I'm pretty good at cooking the majority of my meals at home, rarely going out, only eating fast food about once every 2 months or so, and the things I do cook at home are healthy and from fresh produce.

Back in my last town, I had a friend who used to be in sports, as I was in my younger years (yes, I know, I'm so old). We ran together about 5 times and I impressed myself with how far I could actually run, but then I moved. I tried running on my own in my new city I think about 3 times, and every time I felt like dying. I got advice from someone who trained for a run, to start with a minute of running alternating with 3 minutes of speed walking. Then when you can do that for a significant duration of time, up the running by a minute or 30 seconds, and down the walking time by that much. Keep doing this till you can run (or what I'm going to do, jog :P) however far you want!

So this is my goal: to start running every day, and start stretching and doing pushups and situps every day, maybe every other day while I get my abs in shape...

With this healthful turn, I shall be blogging daily, as a work out journal and so readers, if I ever get any, will scold me in to good habits :)

PAIN!

I have just put my bikini area through some slow, painful torture in the name of curiosity. So, I have this little thing called dark hair. I don't just mean on my head, it's all over. Dark body hair. So, of course, I get a bit of flack for dark arm hair and a teensy mustache. Thanks, Greek heritage. But let's start at the beginning of this tale.

Several years ago , I had a foray into the world of arm shaving, courtesy of my gay roommate. His arms were always silky smooth, so I thought I'd give it a shot. But of course, a guy I had gone on a couple of dates with was like, "Did you shave your arms?", in the middle of a date. Tactful dude, very nice. Way to get a girl's guard up. So I maintained that look for a while, because it was so smooth, and my arms weren't shadowed constantly. And the good thing about arms, they don't get razor rash or ingrown hairs. So one yay for shaving arms. But now I'm back to my natural look, whatever.

But there is one area I can't cover up: my face. So this past weekend I decided to take the plunge, and worked up the courage to buy some wax strips and take that bastard off! My mustache, not my face.

Fuck OW!! I can't remember what waxing my legs felt like, because the last time I did that, I was about 13, and my mom ripped the strips. I don't live with my gay friend anymore, sadly, so I didn't have anyone to assist me in this terrifying process. So I finally gathered my metaphorical balls, and peeled the strip and stuck it. Ok, this isn't too bad. Pulls a little bit, but the warm wax kinda feels nice on the skin... right up until I was lulled into a false sense of security by the warm meltiness on my upper lip and came to the horribly wrong conclusion that this wouldn't be so bad. HA! So rip goes the strip, curse words that would shame a sailor pour out of my numbed mouth and tears well up.

The results are glorious, if a bit reddened, but shit, now I'm lopsided, and must endure that again. Bit the bullet, more pain, more tears, more smoothy smoothness.

All this great smooth skin with slight numbness still after 3 days. Not much of a price. So I thought I would use the other strips in the package for the same slightly uncomfortable but worth it effect. Yeeeeaaaaa... armpit hair is much more deeply rooted in your skin than that baby fuzz of the top lip. I think I pulled a maximum of 3 hairs on one strip, and gave that one up for life.

Then came the bikini strips. Now, I have taken the tweezers to the zone on rare occasions to quickly get those few hairs missed whilst shaving. The strip takes it to a whole new level of pain. And I'm not talking about radical sculpting here; I mean I took the bits of stray hair off the sides where the undies don't cover it. And of course at the awkward angle you must rip to get the best removal, some hairs are left behind, tugged and irritated. So, they say not to wax the same area twice in one session, but I'm not leaving half of the overgrowth, so I stick it back on and rip again. Better results, but still a few strays, but I figure I'll get those later with the tweezers. Now for the other side. This side accessible only by my non-dominant hand, so the removal takes a few more rips; 4 to be exact. This leads to bleeding spots and extreme tenderness. And still a few strays. So then I subject my area to tweezing, and the inflamed flesh decides it would be fun to get caught in the tips and yanked with the hairs.

So finally, after 15 minutes of grooming, I have a sticky, red, spotty, painful bikini zone. Thank you very much wax, but I think I will stick to shaving in this area and keep you for the face.

Losing my Virginity

So, I decided to try this blogging thing because I never really was good at keeping a diary. I love jotting down my thoughts, but sometimes there are too many things and writing is just too slow. So catharsis demands that I get this out.

I don't know if this is just me, but things in the past bother me. Not big things like the Holocaust, that bothers everyone, to put it simply. I mean things about other people's pasts that don't really affect you, but you can't help but being jealous or letting it bother you. Pictures of people before they knew me, maybe with an ex, they bother the HELL out of me. And I go snooping around for them! I think I'm slightly masochistic. I just feel the need to find these things, look at them, create the history behind the pictures. I break myself down; they look happier with them, were they happier with them? Do they compare me to them? How do I measure up? And I do all this willingly. WHY??? Why do I feel the urge to find these things that just make me feel like shit?

Now I feel the need to talk to the significant other about this, but they feel I have no right to feel pissed off/ annoyed/ sad/ upset/ vindictive/ jealous/ etc. about anything in the past.

Thoughts?