So guess what I saw today. A man peeing on the sidewalk. Mid-afternoon. Just taking a leisurely piss. Nice. But strangely I was not that shocked. Settling happens quick around here…

And there was the movie shoot I may have accidentally walked through with a guy from Lost in it.

Oh and the tossed salad places are the best thing ever. It’s like a salad bar but they toss it for you. So convenient.

So really maybe this is what you have to read now. Sorry.

And I suspect if I told her this she would tell her friends I was totally unhappy and coming home soon. When actually I’m just having a bad week. My job is new and I’m struggling to find my place, which is normal and always a challenge. I just have to work through it. And I’m moving next week into a much easier location. All will resolve its self. And we will have shitty weeks here, just like we did there.

In order to document this business accordingly, we have set-up a joint blog over at www.esaidcsaid.tumblr.com. Feel free to catch-up on the unfolding madness there.

I think it’s safe to say this blog will continue to lay dormant for awhile…here we go folks…

As of May 31st the Jones family became homeless. Not cardboard box homeless, maybe mortgage and rent-less is a more accurate statement. We have entered into…never mind I’m too overwhelmed to remember what phase we are in. Shit. I have to keep reminding myself I even have a plan.

We are living at E’s brothers house. A nice roomy house, with an incredibly laid back guy but it’s a bit of a challenge. The dog. The country. The carpooling commute. The lack of alone time. The fatty foods. But I’m grateful to save up a bit more money and to slowly transition into a whole new way of life.

Our plan is to be out of OKC in early August. So there’s job hunting, apartment panic, and a wealth of other stuff that I’m trying to not think about right now. I’m not particularly excited yet. I’m just really overwhelmed and trying to talk myself off the ledge of uncertainty and too much country food.

And number two, I keep thinking I should call my grandma. My grandma who I love dearly, who is quite possibly the reason you may like me. She’s funny. Kind. Catches wild turkeys. The best biscuit maker around. But I’ve come to recognize that there’s some sort of bittersweet emotional response to my childhood and what she (and those family memories) mean to me. I’m starting to think a counselor might be needed to resolve said paradox. The memories of my childhood and my grandparents on Beaver Mountain are lovely. Love. Fun. Fishing. Digging taters. Fried taters. But there’s also this underlying dread. Maybe it’s the fact that my dysfunctional father is a constant in my life with them. Or that I was a lonely child who felt like she had to please everyone. I’m not sure. But I don’t like it. I feel as if I owe these great people more than my inability to deal with the emotions. But sometimes it’s just easier to ignore it all. And I’m not sure facing it does anything but make my guilt subside and bring up another set of uncomfortable emotions.

And I suspect this is tied to leaving. And how when I told my grandma she said “I don’t know what your grandpa and dad are going to say about this.” And up until this one decision I would have let that dictate what this pleaser did. Keep everyone happy. Just do what you need to do to not upset anyone. Guess what, that never really works out for the pleaser.

She also said, don’t forget about us. All I could say way, Beaver Mountain is in my blood. And it’s true, it’s as much a part of me as my blue eyes.

But at some point, I have to be me, figure out how to let 7-year old Christie rest in peace, and just call my grandma. It is what is.

Really folks. This blog offers nothing other than giving me a place to try to lay out my thoughts. That probably sucks for you…sorry. But at least I’m rarely here, right?

But in the defense of the 1lb…I did eat a lot of bad things over the last week. One of our great friends was in town and she happens to be a big fan of food and drink. So there was lots of food and drink had in the name of good friends and fun. And guess what…it was worth it. Oh and there was also a little bit of “house for sale” drama in the mix.

So dear 1lb you can thank me for the pizza, cookie, cupcake, fish tacos, 1/2 Republic burger (oh my) and other things that I’ve blocked out. So I’m walking away from this weigh-in, weighing exactly what I weighed after week 1. But I’m going to embrace. Because 5lbs is 5lbs, right?

I have been pondering this diet/healthy eating business a lot though. And I’m happy to say that it is definitely easier this go around. I think for the most part I eat a lot healthier now than I did five years ago (the first time I did WW). So much healthier. But there’s still this issue with sugar. And how I love it. There’s also my inability to deprive myself. It pains me to not eat tasty things that are in front of me. AKA the sugar cookies that I ate on Monday, that I left off my above list. I almost feel ill, or guilty, or unhappy, and I’ve been pondering what the origination of that emotion is. Haven’t completely worked it out in my head but I think it has something to do with my lovely grandma Freda and how I have such wonderful food memories/associations with her and my childhood. I think her food, or food with her possibly communicated love to me. Or has that association. And maybe not eating, or being able to eat it makes me feel rejected or unloved. Almost like shame. This sounds totally wacky. And I’m really just typing out loud here, sorry I should have warned you.

I always suspected the shame was associated with wanting to eat bad things. That I was bad for wanting it. But I think that’s not quite the reason. Hmmm. Going to have to ponder this a bit more.

In the meantime, it was a good day. Work was annoying but when is it not. I ran. I ate well. I cleaned my bathtub. And I got some of my never-ending thoughts out of my ever-thinking head. Thanks blog.

But I love Muse and Mumford and Sons so it was worth it.

While enjoying the pop culture spectacle I remembered my favorite Grammy performance ever. Ever. And the band nerds win.

And in case you care, one of my favorite bands as of late. So amazing live.

As you would expect, I’ve been thinking lots about roller derby and the avoidance of cookies. But I’m going to save that for another day because it’s the big V-day, there’s lovely music in my world and my couch is soft and fluffy.

And I ate a hot fudge sundae.

Not the best day.

Here’s to a happenin’ Monday.

Happy weekending friends.

I failed at something. And it kills me every time regardless of its importance. I must learn to accept it, sit with the emotion and let it be mine. Hiding from myself never really works out anyway.

And in our next session…how your childhood totally screws you up.