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After having watched Lain, I've been inspired to soup-up and dupe-out my drawing space. My desk space is already cluttered with millions of cables and cords for my iPod, my digital camera, my tablet, my speakers, my modem, my desk lamp, ad nauseam (sp?--where's my Latin Lady Sarah when I need her?). When the cables in question are attached to their respective items, there's no space left on the desk. I have to put my latest caffeine supply on top of my left speaker, if I want a drink at all. There aren't enough outlets for all the AC plugs I have, but I sort of have to make do, since a Japanese power strip wouldn't work for a number of the American plugs I have. Come to think of it, I don't know that a Japanese one would work with the outlets I have either....

Think during the 3-day weekend after 文化祭, I'm going to put the dining table (I don't eat at it anyway) flush against the wall under the window and drag my desk out from the bedroom and put it in front. Then my filing stuff, modem, models not in use, computer can go on the back table and my tablet and lightbox can go on the desk. And if I finally get all my manga up on the bookcase there, they'll be within easy reach of the desk (which'll pretty much be in the middle of the room there). I measured it out already and it has me drooling in happy anticipation. Then I'll move the bed around so the bedroom doesn't look so empty (and I'll finally be able to sleep without that huge Beaver AC unit hanging over my head--it really freaks me out). I'm always afraid it's going to crash down on my head while I sleep. There'll be a brief flash of light, a lot of pain, and that'll be that. Okay, so it's not THAT big, but it would still hurt a hell of a lot if it fell on me. And it's not that new, either....


I don't know what my problem is, but something about my hands does not agree with laptops. I haven't destroyed this one, but I pressed too hard on the panel encasing the DVD drive a few weeks ago and now it's loose, which scares the shit out of me. (It made an audible KUH-KRUNCH under my palm at the time.) It creaks under my right wrist whenever I type. I know any day now I'm going to crush the damn thing, I just know it. Why am I such a spaz that I keep destroying things?


I think I know why I've been such a spaz lately. Well, I *hope* I know the reason. If it's not what I think it is, then I have a brain tumor and will soon have bigger things to worry about than 文化祭.

It hasn't just been cracking the seal on my computer. I keep dropping things. But it isn't just dropping them, it's having a muscle spasm that sends them clean across the room. I was trying to stir my miso soup the other night and ::jerk:: I sent miso and boiling water all over the kitchen. All over my sweatshirt and the floor and the counter. Everywhere in random patches of wet. I'm sort of getting used to this, so instead of getting pissy, I was just annoyed in a scary "I might internalize this" way. But it was different from Satanland stuff. No evil cosmic genitalia sweeping through my kitchen that day. Just me having yet another muscle spasm.

But back to my hypothesis.

I don't know what it is, but I have some sort of problem once I start to get close to a goal. When it's way off in the distance (note: I have no imagination), I don't really have enough vision to see how I'm going to get there, or what I need to do (hence my problem with things like large projects or theses). That's why when I decided I was tired of being fat, I started off slowly. At first, I didn't change anything. I just ate what I normally did and added up the calories to see where I was. Then I slowly began working my way very gradually down to a more reasonable caloric intake. And I started to exercise on a semi-regular basis. The healthier I got, the fewer calories I needed and the more I was able to exercise. And now I've lost over 20lbs.

That's not the problem. The problem is that I'm really close to my goal. I could just stop here, since the data I've found says that I'm just within a healthy weight for my body type and size. But now the final goal has gotten a little hazy and I'm starting to fall into old patterns of behavior.

I gurked Friday night. I know better than that. I have a damaged esophagus and cardiac sphincter that frequently remind me of bad past decisions. So why make them again? Because I'm so close.

I think it's a matter of control. I'm under a LOT of stress right now, and things feel a little beyond me at the moment. There are so many things that depend entirely on someone else coming through for me, and I don't know that they will. So if I control myself, at least I feel in control of something.

And there's the matter of competition. I can see the 15-year-old me standing inside me, behind me, thin and haughty. I want to smash her face. I want to get back down to that size, but stronger, greater, more powerful. I am fighting this weird image inside myself. I want to show her/myself that I/she/we are more powerful than we/I/she could have imagined. There's this strange overlap of self and other. I'm fighting against myself but also with myself. I look at this body and I love it. I exercise in nothing but a knee brace, a sports bra, panties, socks, and sneakers. I pull in all my muscles and I'm a powerhouse. There's fat on my belly that I don't care for, but underneath, it's amazing. I've never been so ripped before. My front abs have seen better days, but my obliques are insane. I can move in all these fabulous ways. I have a fast, mean sidekick.

I want to study Tai Chi so badly it bothers me.

My body is starting to take shape. The fat has melted away. But there's still a little left, and it's annoying. I've always had it--probably always will. I've looked at drawings by my favorite 漫画家 and they draw the same patch of fat on all their women. So it's not just me. And it seems to even be desirable. But I don't desire it. I want to be a machine. And machines don't have beauty fat. I want my joints to be ball bearings that don't creak or pop or hurt or get worn down. I want the ridges in my muscles to be permanently captured in steel.

I don't want eternity, I just want stasis. (Can you tell I've been watching 少女革命ウテナ lately?)

I don't want people to say, "Oh, look at the pretty girl," when they see me. I want them to say, "Look at that lovely machine." There's a machine in here, but it's that little bit of fat that's keeping it hidden.


None of this is coming out right. I'm not really explaining any of this very well. Basically, I starved myself a bit last week, I made myself throw up one day, and I over-exercised. (What didn't I do?) All the bad things I used to. I stopped this weekend. I was good and made sure to get more than 1500 calories a day, although I did still exercise (but only what was on the schedule, no more). And I've decided to continue to do that. Just stick to the plan. But I had a bad week and I took it out on myself in bad ways. And I think the combination of getting less than 1500 calories a day, combined with over-exercising, led to me being a total spaz all last week. So, yeah, uber-long story short, that's why I've been having problems with my motor skills.


[I had originally intended to write a lot more, but I started this entry a week ago, so it's probably time to post already.]


( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
Oct. 31st, 2004 03:32 pm (UTC)
Abby! I just want to wrap you up in arms and say calm yourself dear woman. I wish I had read this before I saw you the other night. I understand that yes, all of our insecurities hav some basis in reality, but your image of yourself is just so far from how I percieve you that I am in wonderment to read your post of image angst. (Not that I don't completely understand. Try dealing with post-pregnancy fat and stretch marks when you're only 23 and all your friend's are wearing bely showing tops and asking you to go clubbing. blech.)You are such an intelligent and creative woman, yet so much of your energy in tied up in this unrest. Imagine if just a quater of the energy you spent worrying about your figure our your appearance went into your art - trying out new drawing styles or sketching new characters. In complete sisterhood and empathy, I shake my head and mourn your lack of peace. I wish I could give you just a little bit of how I see you so that you might not want to punch the 15-year-old next to you (how is no doubt disturbed over how her hair won't curl or how her breasts are too small). With a HUGE hug - Kelsye
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )

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