I have never liked wearing a bra but I never thought it could be bad for my health. I was researching online to try to determine my bra size but instead uncovered evidence suggesting that not only is wearing a bra unnecessary but it may actually cause physical harm.
For thousands of years, our breasts have bobbed along happily with no mechanical support whatsoever, other than that naturally provided by our chest muscles. There is absolutely no medical reason to wear a bra, only peer pressure and fashion. One article compared bra wearing to the ancient torturous custom of foot binding. Why must we mutilate ourselves? Contrary to public opinion, going bra free does not cause breasts to sag. Age does that, or biology, or just plain bad luck. Wearing a bra does not cause breasts to remain perky; it merely makes them appear that way.
Why is it the rate of breast cancer is so high in the West, anyway? Some doctors believe that it is the prevalence of poorly fitting brassieres, particularly the under wire variety. These bras put pressure on the lymph nodes and block the lymph glands from draining. The lymphatic system is responsible for removing toxins from the body. Another theory is that the breasts get overheated, similar to the problem of lowered sperm counts in men who wear tight briefs.
Anecdotal evidence suggests that forgoing a bra after a biopsy has been known to shrink tumors and prevent further growth. Most astounding was this from a 1991 Harvard study: “Premenopausal women who do not wear bras had less than half the risk of breast cancer compared with bra wearers.” (Hsieh, C.C. and D. Trichopoulos, D. Eur. J. Cancer 27:131-5 1991)
Here are some links to check it out for yourself. Don't be confined by someone else's opinion. Like everything else in life, this is YOUR choice.
Taking advantage of the break between semesters to do a tiny bit of cleaning. Found an old notebook with some measurements I'd taken down after I realized the whole weight loss thing was something I was gonna stick with. I'd already probably lost 30-50 pounds by the time I'd taken these measurements, which I believe originated with my desire for custom athletic wear for fat chicks. It might even have been for Junonia, from whom I'd bought a ton of sports bras and my very favorite soft cotton stretch bodysuit that I still have and wear even though it's several sizes too big for me now.
The notebook has measurements taken from a few months apart in 2002, 2006, and now 2010. Some of the ones in 2006 are slightly smaller than the ones in 2010, but I think that could be due to differences in measurements between clothed and unclothed. I lost weight steadily from about 2001 until the last big push in 2007 after I quit smoking - and then I plateaued for three years. Until this year, when I managed to pack on 10-20 pounds, depending on the month. I'm back within 8 pounds of my plateau weight now but I'll likely jump back up a couple pounds over the weekend.
School has been hopeless. I eat like shit when I'm in school. It's hard to avoid with how picky my appetites and tastes are normally and then throw me into a health hostile environment like the typical campus food court and surrounding quick food joints and the pounds just sort of pack themselves on. One semester I lived almost entirely on Doritos munchie mix and chocolate milk from the market between home and school. Luckily, I'll be graduated by this time next year. Of course then I'll probably start having babies, which I hear is also not so good on the waistline. Oh well. I'm reasonably healthy and it doesn't hurt to walk anymore. I'm not so worried about being thin as I am about avoiding pain.
Tip for anyone else stupid enough to try something like this: Don't fix something you heat up and inhale through with super glue. I may never get to use my INAVAP again. Guess it must have been time to clean the threads of the stem, because instead of unscrewing the bowl from the stem, the stem unscrewed from the base, leaving me with my weed trapped in the sealed bowl plus stem combination.
Tried a few things to get them apart then went looking for wrenches. Couldn't find any anywhere in the whole house. Did run across more than one Rush Limbaugh book on the shelf, however, which gives me serious pause about my relationship. Some people freak out finding porn or whips, but what really gives me the willies is hostile hate mongering pundits who think they're better than everyone else.
Finally bravely ventured forth to the garage to get my tool set. Rusty and dusty, but they work. Got the pieces pulled apart then cleaned the bowl threads somewhat and hoped for the best. Just to be on the safe side, I decided to stick a couple drops of super glue down in the threads of the parts I didn't want to come unscrewed again.
Or so I thought. Turns out that super glue releases super toxic fumes when heated. I took one hit off the vaporizer and oh so quickly realized my mistake. It was just air, but it was hot super glue-ized air. I hit the sink retching and dry heaving for over a minute trying to calm my whole body freak out down.
After that I decided it was probably best to let the super glue try to burn off before hitting it again, if ever. I parked it under the exhaust fan and resolved to forget about it for awhile. Sure did stink, though. Luckily the house already was a brain bomb from the bleach I'd sprayed on the shower spots earlier. How convenient to get all the headaches focused in one day instead of being spread out over several.
Meanwhile, this all happened when I was trying to medicate because I was feeling nauseous in the first place. Probably from the bleach. Or not eating. Or something. Okay, so what's the backup plan?
Aha! Oh yes, let's whip out my handy dandy Vaporstar, which basically converts a bong into a vaporizer. I get it all together, go to take a hit, then my lighter won't cooperate. You've got to be kidding me. And where is my lighter fuel? Out in my car, of course. Down the block. In the cold. And me in my pajamas. Great.
Okay, fine. Time to take that trip to the store for toilet paper that I've been delaying till today. And lighter fuel for the super awesome butane lighter that just ain't doing the trick today. And deodorant – I'm running low. I decided to go to Trader Joe's for the TP and deodorant because I didn't feel like driving all the way to Whole Foods, which I knew would have the brand I like, or at least the type. Brand doesn't matter so much, but I do like the liquid rock roll-ons because they actually neutralize the bacteria that causes odor rather than just covering it up.
I'm dying to medicate but decide to wait until I get to the store and do it in the parking lot. I get there, load my happy little car bong.... and can't find a lighter. Because of course, I'd taken it out of my purse to use upstairs in the kitchen earlier. Cripes. You've got to be kidding me. Fine – I'll go into the store, get my stuff, and see if maybe there's a remote chance that they sell lighters.
I grab the one offered variety of toilet tissue then step two paces to the left only to stare disgusted at the sole brand of deodorant on display – Tom's of Maine. Bar, not liquid. No thanks. Didn't even bother to look for lighters. Put the paper back on the shelf and walked back out.
On the way I remembered my Click a Toke pipe. Oh holy life saving device, don't fail me now! My new favorite stealth toy, I've named her my Blue Bic because she looks like a big pen. Not only that, she's an all in one self contained unit. One click, and you're toking. And I did, and it was wonderful. If you haven't seen this thing in action, it's pretty cool. The bottom (black) part is a refillable butane lighter. The middle colored chamber is empty, and the top one is where you very lightly pack the herb and suck through the black rubber nub. I've found it's better to load small bowls and dump them frequently, otherwise it starts tasting pretty ashy after about three or four hits. It's my favorite on-the-go device so far.
I swear I think better once I've medicated a bit. I've never thought of myself as being ADD, but I certainly do have a tendency to spin and be scattered. The pot really brings me back to present and centers me one one thing, while relaxing me enough to let creative solutions flow.
Calm now, I decide to go back into the store, get the toilet paper, and order the deodorant online. In bulk. So I don't run out and have to drive to Whole Foods ever again. Not like I'm a hoarder or anything. Mission TP accomplished, I grab some new lighters and a can of butane to keep in the house from a drugstore on the way home.
The super glue is still fermenting strong inside the ceramic heater. I decide that maybe it will be happier outside for a couple days and start trying to find a way to defumigate the house. There isn't very good window circulation, and it's fucking cold outside. I think my only real shot at neutralization is to bake something stinky later before the photo party tonight. Probably not gonna happen.
I still haven't eaten. I sliced up some oranges that were so stale they were rock hard. They taste fine as long as I don't try and eat all the dried out fiber stuff. But even sliced, they are still so not keyboard friendly. I can't even venture a guess as to how long they're gonna sit there, but I'd be willing to bet that I get something easier to eat first. Maybe. Yup - canned peas it is. And then pretzels. Mm, healthy.
After taking care of the super glue stink, I used my cool new wind resistant torch lighter to get my Vaporstar going again. In a way I think I actually like it better; I only use it as my backup because I think it smells more than the ceramic vaporizer (when it doesn't have super glue in it). And that's the whole point of the exercise – making damn sure that He can't smell it – otherwise the whole deal is off and I'm back to smoking in my car two blocks away again. I'm not hiding it from him; just being appropriately considerate because he can't stand the smell. Which is unfortunate, because it's a very difficult substance to keep from stinking.
Eventually, I'd like to get something truly portable like my Blue Bic, but with less stink. Unfortunately, I'm not ready to drop down hundreds of dollars on a top of the line portable vaporizer just so his nose isn't offended when we go out.
That's why I'm on the quest to find the best vaporizers I can for the amount I can afford to spend, which so far has been in the very low price range. After I get a little ahead, however, I think I am going to order myself a VaporGenie and see how that works out. I can't decide whether to go with the traditional wood looking one or to pick one of the purty shiny colored ones. Which would you get?
I love that the stuff I drink has a name. And that that name is relatively easy to remember and somewhat appropriate because it starts with the word "switch".
Switchel - the big jar is how I mix the honey and vinegar together with just enough water to dilute the honey. I then add a splash into my glass of drinking water, to taste or by color.
I use apple cider vinegar, honey and just a tiny bit of molasses - except in the winter, when I make it hot with mostly molasses, lemon, and a little bit of honey. I don't usually use ginger, except when I add ginger kombucha for the probiotic boost. That's really nice, but it needs to stay refrigerated.
I should try making my next batch with fresh ginger; I almost always have some around. For cooking, of course. Failing that, I did just find lovely ginger flavored honey online that might do the trick almost as well, flavor-wise, at least:
I never was a social smoker - I was only ever interested in marijuana medicinally, like so:
List of conditions for which I find cannabis helpful:
PAIN
Chronic pain and stiffness in back and neck, especially in the morning. Can't elongate spine.
General stiffness in muscles and joints. Pain in knees and ankles from excess weight and injuries. Relaxes tissue enough to stretch and strengthen.
Posture correction - enables me to stand straight for short periods of time without pain and retrain the weak muscles causing the pain.
PMS cramps (severe)
MOOD
Lifetime history (since puberty) of severe depression, periodically suicidal.
Lifetime history of anxiety, social anxiety, autistic over-stimulation/melt-downs, hyper alertness, irritability, panic attacks, phobias, nervousness, and obsessiveness. Improves concentration and focus in some areas. Major improvements in functionality, motivation, and productivity.
walking into walls/posts/trees/corners/counters/furniture/pretty much anything
increased burns and cuts in the kitchen
"mystery bruises"
I used to keep a teensy tiny bit around in case of emergency. Thing is, I've since found that it works better (for me, anyway) as a steady supplement than as an on-the-spot medication. Some uses are immediate, yes - but others seem to have more of a cumulative, long term effect. Rather like any other "normal" medication or supplement, it works better if I have a steady trickle in my system at all times.
Back when I worked for Blue Shield, I started smoking pot much more heavily, mainly due to the fact that a coworker of mine grew and sold the most amazing high energy furry orange stuff. For the first time ever, pot gave me energy instead of taking it away. That was a major turning point. I had that supply for exactly one season and then never again. But once I knew it could be done, I trained my body to respond similarly to (most) any weed.
I was also smoking at least a pack of cigarettes a day, just like I had been since 1989. I've always had lung issues. Croup until I was seven. Allergy to dust. Nill ability to hold my breath. Asthma. Then add 17 years of smoking. I coughed every day for all of my teens and twenties. It got really bad at that job, though. I was also alternately involved with raging alcoholics or methheads and partaking alongside, depending. My respiratory system was hashed.
This friend, who shall forever remain unnamed (although my roomates used to rather artlessly refer to that particular strain as "Jane" Weed - not her real name) notices me coughing uncontrollably at work and sends me off to the health food store in search of something called n-acetyl cysteine, or NAC.
Sure, what the fuck; I had nothing to lose but ongoing humiliation and embarrassment. These coughs were intense. I don't do anything half assed. When I smoke, I smoke; and when I party, I party. I had the worst smoker's cough I'd ever heard until I met my friend Kelly, and then the competition was on.
So I found the stuff and started taking double to triple the regular dosage as she'd recommended. Within a few days, my cough had cleared up immensely. Amazing stuff. Like all vitamins, it's not cheap, thirty dollars for a jar of 120, but it lasts through several bouts. I had just a few left and I started taking them recently.
Although I quit smoking cigarettes three years ago last month, it took awhile for the cough to come down. After awhile I realized that I should probably try to stop smoking pot. So I got a vaporizer instead. That did help. I didn't like the delivery timing or effects as much as directly smoking, but it did help with my cough. However, I haven't been doing that since I moved to the Bay Area. Instead I've been burning some of the most god awful stuff through some of the dirtiest resinated pipes possible. So I've been waking up with smoker's cough again. No fucking way. That's simply intolerable. I hate coughing. That's one of the major reasons I quit smoking.
Didn't feel like trying to find this stuff in a health food store around here. Thank goodness for the internet. Was taking my vitamins this morning and saw the near empty jar. Took the last one and came to look online to see if I could order more. Started googling. Velly, velly interesting...
Stanford is currently recruiting autistic children to see if NAC can help treat behavioral and social symptoms. It's a bit late for me, but if you're nearby and have a kid on the spectrum, I say go for it.
University of Minnesota Medical School researchers discovered that it may help stop the urges of those with trichotillomania, a disorder characterized by compulsive hair-pulling. Whenever I see one of these skin picking or hair pulling disorders, I immediately think of my mangled fingertips.
Use: Seizure disorders, heavy metal poisoning, aspirin or acetaminophen poisoning, viral infection, epilepsy, diabetes, movement disorders, degenerative neurological disorders, including multiple sclerosis.
Action, if known: This antioxidant amino acid increases synthesis of glutathione. It appears to have chelating effects that help remove toxic heavy metals from the body. NAC is the acetylated version of the sulfur amino acid, l-Cysteine. In the body, it turns into l-Cysteine, which in turn is a precursor to glutathione.
According to Wikipedia, the pharmaceutical version is not only is used medically to treat lung disorders but also amphetamine overdose. But where it gets really interesting is the non medically established usages:
The following uses have not been well-established or investigated:
Evidence that NAC and other antioxidants can exert beneficial effects on pancreaticb-cell function in diabetes was published in a 1999 study. The authors conclude that a sufficient supply of antioxidants (NAC, vitamin C plus vitamin E, or both) may prevent or delay b-cell dysfunction in diabetes by providing protection against glucose toxicity.[17]
In the treatment of AIDS, NAC has been shown to cause a "marked increase in immunological functions and plasma albumin concentrations"[22] Albumin concentration are inversely correlated with muscle wasting (cachexia), a condition associated with AIDS.
An animal study indicates that acetylcysteine may decrease mortality associated with influenza[23]
Animal studies suggest that NAC may help prevent noise-induced hearing loss. [24] A clinical trial to determine efficacy in preventing noise-induced sensorineural hearing loss in humans is currently (2006) being jointly conducted by the US Army and US Navy.[citation needed]
A human study of 262 primarily elderly individuals indicates that NAC may decrease influenza symptoms. In the study, 25% of virus-infected subjects NAC treatment developed a symptoms, whereas 79% in the placebo group developed symptoms. [25]
It has been suggested that NAC may help sufferers of Samter's triad by increasing levels of glutathione allowing faster breakdown of salicylates, though there is no evidence that it is of benefit [26]
There are claims that acetylcysteine taken together with vitamin C and B1 can be used to prevent and relieve symptoms of veisalgia (hangover following ethanol (alcohol) consumption). The claimed mechanism is through scavenging of acetaldehyde, a toxic intermediate in the metabolism of ethanol.[27][28]
It has been shown to help women with PCOS (polycystic ovary syndrome) to reduce insulin problems and possibly improve fertility. [29]
Studies in mice models of Ataxia Telangictasia (ATM knockout) indicate that NAC prevents genomic instability and retards lymphomagenesis in these animals.[citation needed] Clinical trials in human AT patients are underway.[citation needed]
It has been shown to help trichotillomania[30], a condition causing compulsive hair-pulling.
It has been shown effective in Unverricht-Lundborg disease in an open trial in 4 patients. A marked decrease in myoclonus and some normalization of somatosensory evoked potentials with N -acetylcysteine treatment has been documented. http://emedicine.medscape.com/article/1153370-overview
I think I want to start taking it regularly just to see if it helps me quit biting my nails. All that talk of OCD and trichotillomania really rung my bells. I've only ever met one other human being in my life that bit her nails the way I do. And that was twenty years ago. It's not a habit, it's a disorder, an uncontrollable and compulsive one that causes major discomfort and inconvenience in my life. I don't bite my nails because I want to, but because I can't stop. If this could help...
Many findings in psychopharmacology are a result of clinical observation of serendipitous findings; this pattern is repeated in this case series. Pathological nail biting is a disorder that begins in adolescence and is regarded as a disruption of normal grooming behavior. This behavior is regarded as being in the compulsive-impulsive spectrum and is associated with psychological consequences including reduced self-esteem, as well as localized trauma and risk of infection.1 There is minimal data on the treatment of nail biting, with preliminary research suggesting that serotonergic agents may be of value, akin to other disorders in that spectrum such as compulsive skin picking and trichotillomania.2
One safe and well-tolerated compound that offers some promise as a potential treatment in compulsive-impulsive disorders is N-acetylcysteine (NAC).3 NAC is widely available as a nutraceutical supplement and is an agent with multiple properties. It has an antioxidant action in its own right and influences neutrophil inhibition, antimicrobial attachment, vasodilation, and mucolysis.3 For over half a century it has been used therapeutically, traditionally as a mucolytic, in the treatment of paracetamol poisoning and most recently as a renal protectant.4
Thus far, five cases of reduction in grooming disorders (trichotillomania, skin picking, and nailbiting) with NAC have been reported,5 with a single case report describing its use in the treatment refractory of obsessive-compulsive disorder.6 NAC has also been demonstrated to be useful in other impulsivity related behaviours. Grant and colleagues7 gave open-labelled NAC (600??1,800 mg/day) to 27 subjects with pathological gambling, with 16 responders after 8 weeks of treatment. Studies by LaRowe and colleagues8 and Mardikian and colleagues9 suggest that NAC may be useful for the treatment of cocaine addiction.
That's the same way they discovered that WellButrin helped people stop smoking. They were testing it as an antidepressant and people just spontaneously lost their interest in smoking. Total awesomeness.
The other day, one of my co-workers remarked,"For someone of your size, you sure can eat a lot." It took me a minute to figure out what she meant by "someone of my size". At first I was prepped to hear it as "for such a big girl", just like I'd been hearing for years how flexible I was "for a fat chick". Then I realized she meant that I didn't look like a fat girl at all, but that I sure did eat like one. Ouch.
Well, she's got me there. I've been eating like a pig this summer, and it shows. Not only have I gained over ten pounds, but it seems like my waist has swollen to twice its size. Europe didn't help. We ate out twice per day every day for three and a half weeks. We were staying in hotels and walking around a lot, so leftovers weren't really practical. Therefore, I practiced my plate polishing skills, the art of which I'd long since perfected as a kid with seemingly "hollow" legs. 'Cept when I hit puberty, when the darn things filled up and started spreading to my hips and boobs and butt and belly and everywhere else.
Even though I've never walked so damn much in my life, I didn't lose a single pound or inch in Europe. Instead, it was everything I could do to not gain more than 5 pounds. Everything would have been okay had I gone right back to my normal routine when I got back, except that then my beloved went in for eye surgery. As was prearranged, I stayed home to take care of him for the following two weeks. That's when it really got bad.
Once more with the two meals a day. Home cooked. With love. Lots of love. And butter. And bacon. And bread. Plus I was sort of trying to impress him, just a little bit, and mostly at first. I never get to cook for him. This was my big chance. He's also got a hearty appetite and specifically requested meat. So I made sure to deliver, as best I could. This wouldn't have been so bad if not for the way I was plating things.
Since his eyesight was impaired, I was literally making plates instead of doing more of a "serve yourself" buffet style service. Since the fridge was much fuller than usual, I was also doing everything I could to avoid leftovers. But I wanted to make sure he was full and that there was a good, attractive variety of food available at each meal. Anyone see where this is going?
Yeah, so picture some really big plates of food, much like we'd been splurging on in Europe. Lots of meat. Lots of bread. Lots of everything. Not only that, but I was making the portions more or less exactly equal. Which would be fine in theory if not for the fact that he outweighs me by about 50 pounds and a good foot in height. You'll notice that emhe/em didn't put on any weight this summer. Not a single pound. In fact, I think he even lost weight.
Excuses, excuses, excuses. The truth is, I was stressed. A lot. When I get stressed, sometimes I eat to cope. Especially if the things I normally do to cope aren't available, like weed and sex and stuff. It's not like I don't know I'm doing this. I can even feel the frantic desperation, the futile defeat, the hope and a prayer and willful ignorance that I'm gonna have to pay for this later. And I am.
It ain't so bad as all that, though. I finally have some time to myself and have cleared my schedule so that I can take the time to readjust my appetite through a series of mini switchel fasts. Once upon a time, I used to fast for 24 hours once a week but I find that for appetite reduction it works just as well to liquid fast daily through the morning and into the late afternoon, then eat sensibly after that. Already my appetite is going down, my waistline is disappearing, and I've lost a couple pounds.
More importantly, I feel lots better. For one, I don't hate myself and feel that lurking sense of shame at being out of control of my feeding urge. For another, it's about that time of month again. Not for the first time, I notice the connection between how much I eat and how heavy my flow is, or isn't. Not eating delays and lightens menstruation and cramps. Binge eating increases both, especially when I've already been eating heavily throughout the month.
Overeating just makes me feel heavier and lethargic, a cycle which just gets worse and worse the longer it goes on. Whereas intentional caloric deprivation literally makes me feel lighter, in not just a physical but spiritual way. I feel good. I feel optimistic. Vibrant. Healthy. Happy.
They say that the only proven method of life extension is dramatic calorie reduction. I find that not hard to believe at all. It seems like all this digestion stuff really does take a bit of work for the body to process, work that leaves the remaining systems sluggish and lethargic. At the end of the day, I don't think it's so much what you eat as it is how much you eat. At least as far as weight control goes. For general good health, it's important to eat nutritious wholesome food versus all those toxic corporate "foodstuffs" manufactured with profit vs health in mind.
All that said, I really hate dieting. I can't diet. I won't diet. Oddly enough, I don't consider these fasting episodes of mine to be dieting at all. I don't really look at them as detoxing, either. Instead, I look at it as just another tool - a mechanism I can use to remodulate my appetite and eating habits. It's not that I'm denying myself food, but that I'm intentionally fasting right now. It's its own thing, an experience in the now. Very zen. If I think about eating, I can easily ignore temptation by telling myself that "Oh yeah, I'm not eating right now. Maybe later." Then I drink some more switchel and the urge goes away. Pot helps, too.
Stupid insomnia. Finally got sick of laying in bed going crazy so got up and went for a walk down to the Chain Bridge, around Parliament, then back upstream to the bridge bordering on the island. Forgot how much I enjoy climbing on statues and other public edifices in the middle of the night and perching. The photos of the chain bridge were taken from on top of and beneath the supports. Actually had a lot of fun. Tired now, but still not quite ready to sleep. I might not sleep at all today. Some days it's like that.
Wow. Lucked into a lovely boat tour of the Danube and its bridges, accompanied by one of the better buffets I've ever been treated to. Goodness gracious, but it's good to be me.
[cincopa 10487001]
After dark it got a bit difficult to take pictures what with the lack of light, the moving boat, and the rain. Not to mention six glasses of wine. Nothing daunted, I clicked away anyway. These remind me of some of my better acid trips back in the day.
Got hungry so started wandering. Stumbled into a grocery store by accident. Score!
The cheese, yogurt & meat aisles were amazing. Dairy and meat in general were super interesting. I'm a total milk junkie and apparently all the milk around here comes in antiseptic packs, which is kind of weird. I had some last night from the gas station and I didn't like it, but that often applies to gas station milk. The produce section was nice and had lots of selection for being as small as it was. Very impressive.
You can tell that wine is important, as there were two full aisles devoted to its sale, as well as another row to beer and soda stuffs. Also impressive was the canned fish selection, as well as the fresh meat deli. Kind of makes me wish I had a kitchen. As is, I managed to pull together a terrific meal on the fly consisting of bread, meat, cheese, and fruit.
Interesting side note on the fruit - they turned me back at the checkout and made me go back to the produce department to get my banana and nectarine weighed and labeled. Not speaking a lick of English or Hungarian between us made this communication particularly challenging, but I figured it out eventually and left the store with a deep feeling of satisfaction for having successfully navigated the Budapest grocery.
Left home at 3:00 o'clock Saturday morning. Don't usually go to bed until 1:00 or 2:00 anyway so stayed up Friday night. Flew out around 6:30 from San Francisco. Got about an hour of sleep on the plane before I woke up to the distinct feeling of blood running down my thighs, and not for the last time. I think I broke records for soiling my undies on this stupid trip. I haven't bled on myself so much in, well, ever. One of the hardest periods I've ever had with very limited abilities to do anything about it. Embarrassing, humiliating, and aggravating all at once. Color me red and completely unthrilled to be a woman.
Time starts getting foggy about the time we hit JFK in New York for a five hour layover. Promptly got separated. He went to look at timetables and I bee-lined for the restroom. Got out and he was nowhere to be found. Our flight to JFK had been going to Istanbul, so I somehow got it in my head that that's where we were heading so off I went to Gate 7 to wait for him. About an hour later I gave up and went back to look for him near the restroom. Sure enough, he was right where I'd been looking for him in the first place. The sleep deprivation was really starting to kick in at this point.
Five hour layover at JFK then an impossibly long ride across the ocean. Got the middle row so was completely impossible to sleep. Completely. Not fucking kidding. I can't sleep sitting up. I have to curl up on my side. Period. Meanwhile, Mr. Happy slept soundly next to me for pretty much the entire trip. But I didn't want to kill him or anything. Smug, well rested sonofabitch; I can't remember the last time I've resented someone so much.
It's 11:00 AM Sunday morning when we arrive in Budapest. The taxi ride was uneventful and I was struck by how not very different things were here. Everywhere we go, American music is playing. The cars drive on the right side of the road, although there is a white line in the middle of the road instead of a yellow, making it impossible for me to tell which roads were one-ways and which had oncoming traffic. Of course, the oncoming traffic made that pretty clear pretty quickly. The roads are a bit on the narrow side, too. I'm just happy I'm not driving.
So, um, yeah. The last time I remember sleeping is Thursday night. I've bled through my keeper and panties five or six times and I'm so tired I can't see straight and I'm starting to hallucinate. By all means, let's go tour the fucking city. Asshole. Did I mention that I hated his well rested ass for a day or so there? Needless to say, Sunday was not a happy day. Saw some cool shit but really couldn't muster the enthusiasm or energy to care.
[cincopa 10486941]
Moving right along, I got some sleep Sunday night. Thank god. Lots of sleep. Luckily, the forced march through the city the day before had pretty much pushed all remaining blood out of my body and into my poor panties, so that issue more or less resolved itself. Nothing like getting your period over in 2 days flat. Men. I hate them all right now.
Where was I? Oh yes, Monday. Monday was good. Refreshed, energized, and relatively cramp free; I was ready to explore. Good fucking thing, too, cuz I had no choice. There are an awful lot of hills here. Steep ones at that. Lots of stairs. But worth it. At the top of these particular stairs was a park. The first thing I found was the Philosopher's garden. Ah yes, Monday was definitely a reset point. This made me very happy. There were statues for Abraham, Jesus, Buddha, Lao Tze, and some Egyptian looking character who from behind looked like a 1950's housewife complete with bouffant hairdo. Very strange. There were also spots for Ghandi, Saint Francis, and the Bhodi Dharma. There were signs explaining why their statues were gone, but I couldn't read them. Anyone here speak Hungarian to translate? All I can make out is that something happened in April of 2007 and that money is somehow involved (the forint is the local currency).
[cincopa 10486944]
Further up the hill were more statues, these ones in miniature. I've never seen so many statues in my life as I have here. I love it. They are everywhere. This diorama was particularly interesting as it seemed to tell some epic tale of love, longing, and separation; as well as some cataclysmic world changing event which caused a rift in the world and between the man and woman. I wish I knew the story, but I don't mind wondering, either. Food for the imagination, and a wonderful presentation.
[cincopa 10486945]
At the top of the hill above the park was the Citadel, a fortress and hotspot for the last days of World War II. The history is a bit confusing, but it seems like Russia and Germany were basically fighting for the territory. Russia eventually won and promptly put up statues of communist victory everywhere. When Hungary broke away from communism, instead of destroying the statues, they moved them all into a special park as a memorial to communist ambition. I hope to visit later in the week.
[cincopa 10486947]
It was the first time I'd ever been in a World War II museum. It was rough. I never cared much for history, but this was real life, lived by real people. The pictures made me cry. Especially the children. War is so senseless, so insane, and so close. We are not above it, nor far removed. We create war and destruction today because we don't know, we don't care, we don't understand the horror. We've never seen it. We are spoiled, us Americans. Spoiled, blind, and arrogant. Meanwhile,we blithely destroy entire civilizations to better our bottom line. Civilizations with people. People like us. People who die. People who have children. Children that die. And for what, and why?
[cincopa 10486946]
Moving right along, we wandered the ramparts and grounds of the fortress, taking pictures of the ever present statuary and fooling around on the anti aircraft guns on the grounds. Nothing like sitting in a rusty chunk of heavy metal to put you in the place of the desperate soldiers futilely trying to defend their home. Apparently, the Citadel was supposed to be an anti aircraft defense station, but it didn't really work out that way. The few guns they had were ineffective and they never managed to install more.
Back down the hill, we walked across one of the many bridges over the Danube and hopped a trolley to take us a bit downstream. That's one thing I really love about this place. The public transportation system rocks, and is well used. We bought a weekly pass, which gets us on any form of public transportation we want, including the subway, buses, and trolleys/trams Â? all of which run every ten minutes or so. Very nice. You can get anywhere on public transportation here, and quickly, too. I have yet to see an empty bus, train, or trolley. In fact, it's often standing room only.
[cincopa 10486948]
Oh, that brings me to one of the better parts of yesterday. Actually, all of yesterday was just freaking incredible. I loved yesterday, especially in comparison to the day before, which I shall forthwith refer to as Â?mad MondayÂ?, cuz I was. Oh yes, but one of the highlights of my day was being able to help a fellow traveler. He was on the bus and I was kind of staring at him because I thought he was really hot. He came up to the front asking which doors to use for what and where to pay. We got off the bus at the station and I showed him where to go and how to get a ticket. It feels good to help people. Especially cute ones.
Had a lovely lunch on a boat on the banks of the Danube. The food was wonderfully rich and just downright decadent. Food here is kind of a crapshoot, but when it's good, it's amazing. Even when it's something I don't like, it's still amazing, and luckily there's two of us so it's pretty much a guarantee that one of us will enjoy it. Like I discovered that I do not like Roquefort salad dressing, but he does. I have difficulties with certain strong cheeses, while I love others. Like I said, it's a crapshoot. But I like to experiment and try new things, which makes traveling a delightful experience. Like an army, I travel on my stomach. It's all about the food tourism, baby...
[cincopa 10486949]
I kept seeing this awesome castle looking thing built into the side of a mountain and we finally got to go inside. It turned out to be a church, built into a cave. Wow. I wish I'd gotten better pictures, but pictures alone just can't convey the peace and tranquility of that cool, dark place. Curves and hollows and lamps and saints all mixed together to make a truly unique setting to worship. It's hard not to feel loved by god when enveloped in the embrace of the solid, unmoving earth. Fucking fantastic.
[cincopa 10486950]
So, after an amazing day of historical, culinary, and religious stimuli; we were able to wind down and relax in a world famous Turkish bath. Dear god, but that was wonderful. I love to soak, and public baths are like a gift from heaven. These had less jets and cooler pools than the ones I visited in Taiwan, but the pools were bigger and they had several sauna rooms, which were intense. I found that I could tolerate the sauna better after immersing myself in one of the ice water pools first for a few minutes, but I still found it difficult to breathe deeply through my nose because the heat burned the living hell out of my nasal passages. So I settled for short, shallow breaths.
All in all, 'twas a wonderful day. Only problem was, it never really ended. Got back to the hotel last night. He went to bed after checking his email then I tried to upload some photos to FaceBook. The first small batch went well, but then it failed on me three times after that. Then I got into chat conversations with my mom and ex boyfriend and the next thing I know, it's five o'clock in the morning again. Fuck. Thank god he's in a meeting today and I can pretty much just fuck off on my own time. Let's hear it for leisure. I think I'll go back and see if the maid is done making up the room so I can get online and post this bad boy. With pictures. That should use up a couple more hours. I just wish the internet cable reached all the way to the bed. I could use a nap.
Oh shit. Skip that. I forgot that I had a final to do and classes to register for. Yikes. Fuck me running.
I finally started fasting again. For the first six months of 2007, I fasted for about 24 hours once per week while also following a fairly strict food combining regimen. I lost fifty pounds in five months (after having gained thirty in three when I quit smoking cigarettes).
This time I'm going for more of a prolonged stint. I've been going for about three or four days now. I've had a few bits of food here and there but overall I'm letting my bones detox and it feels really good. I'm starting to feel lighter and less achy again, which was one of my goals. The other goal is to postpone my period by one week until after Burning Man. Last year, I was able to increase my cycles by up to an additional ten days with controlled caloric deprivation; I'm hoping I've still got the hoodoo.
When I "fast", I actually drink a tonic comprised of more or less equal parts each raw apple cider vinegar and raw honey in enough water to make it palatable. I also like to throw in a touch of molasses for flavor and coloring and occasionally some pumpkin pie seasoning or allspice if I'm feeling spiffy. Ingrid can get hers to taste like apple juice but I find that I prefer mine more like really thin weak lemonade. Whatever is in this crazy witches brew, it has just what I need to keep me going, and going good. I missed it, actually.
This is the story of a book, a philosophy, and how the two are inextricably intertwined in my mind. The book is Learned Optimism by Martin E.P. Seligman, Ph.D. The philosophy is Buddhism. Both were initially first recommended to me by the first shrink I ever saw twice.
She recommended both book and philosophy highly. I didn't listen. For starters, optimists give me the willies. I consider myself to be a realist. There's an old saying that the pessimist sees only the overwhelming darkness of the tunnel; the optimist sees only the light at the end of the tunnel; but the realist is the one who recognizes that light as the headlamp of the oncoming train.
Buddhism was even less personally appealing. For some reason, its proponents seemed to consider the cessation of desire to be a good thing! Now, anyone who knows me at all will understand just how unappetizing that particular idea was to my sensibilities. I love my desires. I live for my desires. Hell, I am my desires. Desire didn't cause suffering, desire caused pleasure. The basic premise didn't make sense.
I was resistant to pretty much everything she told me and never bothered to follow either lead, even though other sources were to second her advice and recommendations in the years to come.
Finally, a copy of Learned Optimism found its way into my hands when I was right at the end of a junket of self-help book reading and right before I discovered The Secret. The timing was exactly right; I was ready to listen. Immediately I kicked myself for not reading it years before as I quickly realized what I held in my hands. It was a formula! This book contained a systematic process for making practical, immediate life changes.
Difficulties in life are discussed in terms of personal explanatory styles, or "habitual way(s) of explaining bad events", which stem directly from your view of your place in the world whether you think you are valuable and deserving or worthless and hopeless it is the hallmark of whether you are an optimist or a pessimist." (Seligman 44) People with pessimistic explanatory styles tend to "give up easily and become depressed." (Seligman 98) People with optimistic explanatory styles tend to bounce back and pick up again where they started. The difference is not in how we appear to others, but rather is a way "to talk to yourself when you suffer a personal defeat." (Seligman 207)
Explanatory styles involve choices centering around three areas of perception: permanence, pervasiveness, and personalization. When events happen, whether we perceive them as either negative or positive, we habitually filter them through these three dimensions, each which presents a distinct choice of its own; permanent versus temporary, specific versus universal, and internal versus external.
For example, when something bad happens to me, I can choose to believe its existence to be either permanent or temporary; i.e. "I never get things done on time!" versus "I let myself get distracted, this time." Thinking of bad things in permanent terms of never' or always' indicates a pessimistic explanatory style, whereas using qualifiers like sometimes' and lately' and blaming bad events on temporary or "transient conditions" marks one as an optimist. (Seligman 44)
Conversely, when something good happens to me, I also choose to believe its existence to be either permanent or temporary. "It's my lucky day" versus "I'm always lucky." (Seligman 45) Here, thinking of good things in terms of permanent causes indicates an optimistic explanatory style, whereas a tendency to view good things as temporary in nature is certainly pessimistic.
"Permanence is about time. Pervasiveness is about space." (Seligman 46) Pervasiveness, the second area of perception, pertains to how much we let our reactions to events bleed over into other areas of our lives.
For example, when something bad happens to me, I can choose to believe its existence to be either universal and widespread throughout my life or specific and confined merely to a particular instance; i.e. "My life sucks." Versus "I don't like my job very much."
Thinking of bad things in universal terms, making broad generalizations about such and applying them to life across the board is the mark of a pessimist, whereas isolating specific feelings of failure to the pertinent events themselves and not letting them spill over into other areas of life indicates a more optimistic explanatory style.
Conversely, when something good occurs, I choose to believe its existence to be either pervasive or situationally dependent; i.e. "I'm smart." Versus "I'm smart at math." (Seligman 48) Here, thinking of good things in universal terms indicates an optimistic explanatory style, whereas the tendency to view good things as isolated by circumstance is sad and certainly pessimistic.
The third dimension of perception, Personalization, involves blame and credit. For example, when something bad happens to me, I choose to believe its existence to be from either internal or external sources; i.e. "I'm insecure." Versus "I grew up in poverty." (Seligman 50) Thinking of bad things as internally caused not only indicates pessimism but also low self esteem, whereas placing fault externally is actually more optimistic and self validating.
Conversely, when good things happen, our tendency to credit either ourselves or others indicates healthy optimism or pessimism, respectively, as "people who believe they cause good things tend to like themselves better than people who believe good things come from other people or circumstances." (Seligman 50)
In summary, a person with an optimistic explanatory style would tend to interpret good events as permanent, pervasive, and personal and to interpret bad events as temporary, specific, and externally caused.
By contrast, a person with a pessimistic explanatory style would tend to interpret good events as temporary, specific, and externally caused and to interpret bad events as permanent, pervasive and personally wrought.
But what does all this have to do with Buddhism, you may ask? Good question. Where Seligman's book provided a simple formula for immediate application, Buddhism, as explained by Thich Nhat Hanh in The Heart of the Buddha's Teaching, provides a deeper explanation, an almost meta understanding of the same concepts. When discussing the Three Dharma Seals, the Buddha "offered us impermanence, nonself, interbeing, and emptiness to discover the true nature of reality." (Hanh 137)
In some senses, we can draw direct connections between the three areas of perception (permanence, pervasiveness, and personalization) and the Three Dharma Seals of impermanence (anitya), nonself (anatman), and nirvana. Indeed, Thich Nhat Hanh even uses near identical language to describe the nature of the first two seals, "From the point of view of time, we say impermanence', and from the point of view of space, we say nonself'." (Hanh 132) The comparisons stop matching up so neatly after that, but I believe the topics encompassed within The Heart of the Buddha's Teaching more than envelop those in Learned Optimism, taking us from mere practice and following of formula to a living understanding, to wisdom.
For when one applies the understanding gained from Buddhist teaching to the layer of action based upon optimist formulas, we then "stop discussing things and begin to realize the teachings in our own life, a moment comes when we realize that our life is the path, and we no longer rely merely on the forms of practice." (Hanh 122)
I must have had more Buddhist teachers these last few years than I ever imagined. By the time I discovered the path, I found I was already walking it. Most startling was to find a personal understanding of the truth in statements like this, that "when we feel happy and peaceful, our happiness and peace radiate around us, and others can enjoy it as well." (Hanh 159)
I came to my own understanding of impermanence, interbeing, nonself, and emptiness through contemplation of the night sky combined with simultaneous study in astronomy, chemistry and human biology. It was easy to see the interconnected yet fleeting nature of all things when viewed from either the macro or microcosmic level, or both.
But there was still something missing. I still didn't understand all this nonsense about desire and suffering. Sure, I get that all life is suffering. I can accept that as a point of argument, even if it does seem somewhat, um, pessimistic. The problem was not with the philosophy as such, but rather, the oversimplification of the philosophy into what is, admittedly, a hot button term for me personally. Better, for me, than desire is to think in terms of non-attachment.
In a way, Buddhism can be considered to be that realism I was so fond of. Buddhism realizes and recognizes that everything pretty much sucks. In fact, the Five Remembrances spell it out quite clearly:
I am of the nature to grow old, have ill-health, and die. Everyone I love will change and die and "my actions are my only true belongings." (Hanh 124)
Rather than being depressing, these remembrances are liberating as they remind us to be mindful of the joys of the here and now.
In fact, that is the key to non-attachment, is mindfulness. Attachment is to things not of the here and now; past lost or future dreamed or dreaded, the inability to live in the present moment is what keeps us imprisoned and causes us anxiety, "the illness of our time." Yet, "letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything anger, anxiety, or possessions we cannot be free." (Hanh 78) In fact, Thich Nhat Hanh goes on to say, "If we look deeply into our craving, we will see that we already have what we crave, because everything is already a part of everything else." (Hanh 79)
In The Heart of the Buddha's Teaching, Thich Nhat Hanh talks about habit energies, our mindless ways of being that sweep and push us along. He says that we must learn to simply stop. The three dimensions of perception in Learned Optimism may be thought of as habit energies that we must learn to stop, examine, and rearrange. Left unchecked, these habitual energies carry us along like a runaway horse. When asked where we are going, we may only refer the question to the horse.
Only by stopping will we be able to "touch the truth of suffering with our mindfulnessto recognize and identify our specific suffering, its specific causes, and the way to remove these causes and end our suffering." (Hanh 22) We must face our suffering. That therapist, the one who first introduced me to these ideas, she also told me to meditate. I told her I couldn't stop thinking long enough. She said that if I had a thought, to simply recognize it as such.
Her words could have come straight from The Heart of the Buddha's Teaching:
"To observe our feelings, we sit on the bank of the river and identify each feeling as it flows by. It may be pleasant, unpleasant, or neutralRecognize it, smile to it, look deeply into it, and embrace it with all our heart. If we continue to look deeply, we discover the true nature of that feeling, and we are no longer afraid." (Hanh 178)
This brings me back to my current position on the path, that of a writer constantly trying to overcome fear and live truly and deeply, because "non-fear is the basis of true happiness. The greatest gift we can offer others is our non-fear." (Hanh 212) I sure hope that's true, because that is the path I intend to take straight into the fear. I will love my fear and embrace it, and in it, find peace. And fear itself? I choose to view fear as temporary, situationally specific, and externally caused; whereas happiness will be considered as permanent, pervasive and intrinsic to my basic existence. And I will drink deeply of both as I watch them flow by.
I occasionally do out-call parties with my Portable, Hand-held, All-In-The-Mic Karaoke Player. The microphone connects directly to most TV / Stereo Systems and provides scrolling lyrics right on the TV screen. Singing Karaoke in a supportive and loving environment has been demonstrated to remarkably improve confidence, posture, and even singing ability.
Recommended Therapeutic Songs for Empowerment:
ADDICTED TO LOVE ROBERT PALMER
ALL I WANNA DO SHERYL CROW
ANOTHER BRICK IN THE WALL PART II PINK FLOYD
BELIEVE CHER
BORN TO BE WILD STEPPENWOLF
CONTROL JANET JACKSON
DO YOU THINK I'M SEXY ROD STEWART
DO YOU REALLY WANT TO HURT ME CULTURE CLUB
DON'T YOU WANT ME HUMAN LEAGUE
DREAM ON AEROSMITH
EYE OF THE TIGER SURVIVOR
FAITH GEORGE MICHAEL
FAME IRENE CARA
FLASH DANCE WHAT A FEELING IRENE CARA
HAND IN MY POCKET ALANIS MORISSETTE
HERE COMES THE SUN THE BEATLES
HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT PAT BENATAR
I HATE MYSELF FOR LOVING YOU JOAN JETT & THE BLACKHEARTS
I WILL SURVIVE GLORIA GAYNOR
I WANT YOU TO WANT ME CHEAP TRICK
I'M TOO SEXY RIGHT SAID FRED
IRONIC ALANIS MORISSETTE
IT'S A SIN PET SHOP BOYS
JUST THE WAY YOU ARE BILLY JOEL
LET IT BE THE BEATLES
LIVIN' LA VIDA LOCA RICKY MARTIN
LOSING MY RELIGION R.E.M.
MY WAY FRANK SINATRA
MY LIFE BILLY JOEL
PAPA DON'T PREACH MADONNA
RIGHT HERE AND NOW BILL MEDLEY
SEXUAL HEALING MARVIN GAYE
SHE BOP CYNDI LOUPER
SHOUT TEARS FOR FEARS
SINGIN' IN THE RAIN GENE KELLY
TREAT ME RIGHT PAT BENATAR
TWO PRINCES SPIN DOCTORS
UNDER MY THUMB ROLLING STONES
VENUS BANANARAMA
WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS QUEEN
YOU OUGHTA KNOW ALANIS MORISSETTE
Not necessarily therapeutic but I just love these songs:
Emotional Freedom Techniques (EFT) is a psychotherapeutic tool that has been described as pseudoscientific by its critics. The theory behind EFT is that negative emotions are caused by disturbances in the body's energy fieldand that tapping on the eridians while thinking of a negative emotion alters the body's energy field, restoring it to "balance." Critics have suggested that its utility stems from its more traditional cognitive components, such as distraction from negative thoughts, rather than from manipulation of energy meridians. ---Wikipedia
EFT, or Tapping, feels great and is a natural addition to bedroom play. I have found that it is in fact difficult to distinguish where tapping ends and massage or other stronger tactile stimulation begins.
The notebook has measurements taken from a few months apart in 2002, 2006, and now 2010. Some of the ones in 2006 are slightly smaller than the ones in 2010, but I think that could be due to differences in measurements between clothed and unclothed. I lost weight steadily from about 2001 until the last big push in 2007 after I quit smoking - and then I plateaued for three years. Until this year, when I managed to pack on 10-20 pounds, depending on the month. I'm back within 8 pounds of my plateau weight now but I'll likely jump back up a couple pounds over the weekend.
Tip for anyone else stupid enough to try something like this: Don't fix something you heat up and inhale through with super glue. I may never get to use my INAVAP again. Guess it must have been time to clean the threads of the stem, because instead of unscrewing the bowl from the stem, the stem unscrewed from the base, leaving me with my weed trapped in the sealed bowl plus stem combination.
Eventually, I'd like to get something truly portable like my Blue Bic, but with less stink. Unfortunately, I'm not ready to drop down hundreds of dollars on a top of the line portable vaporizer just so his nose isn't offended when we go out. 
I love that the stuff I drink has a name. And that that name is relatively easy to remember and somewhat appropriate because it starts with the word "switch". 
This friend, who shall forever remain unnamed (although my roomates used to rather artlessly refer to that particular strain as "Jane" Weed - not her real name) notices me coughing uncontrollably at work and sends me off to the health food store in search of something called n-acetyl cysteine, or NAC. 
ADDICTED TO LOVE ROBERT PALMER
