I'm feeling healthy again.

Of course I finally feel healthy on a Sunday when there's absolutely nothing to do. I haven't worked out in weeks and I feel like a flabby pile of shit and this is depressing. I went from doing my marital arts nearly every day to being couch ridden and unable to breathe without help from an inhaler or an insane amount of purple drank, which just made me sleep away the coughing. Then I'd wake up choking, and that was bad news bears.

So now that I'm better, my muay thai trainer is too busy for me, my jiu jitsu studio isn't open, my dog is being a lazy pile of shit and doesn't want to run with me, my boyfriend is working on his project car... and i think he's sick of me because i haven't left his bedroom in a week and i am over-all a cranky mother fucking bitch.

Now when I come home and hang out at my house I get stir crazy and don't know what to do. It's like I really don't live here anymore, so I just sorta sit on the couch or in a chair downstairs at the dining room table and rot. My bedroom stopped being my woman-cave and I'm running out of options to satiate myself for the day.

I guess I'll go back to molesting Yelp. That's the only thing I've been capable of doing the past couple of weeks. I AM BACK TO MY NORMAL SCHEDULE AFTER TODAY.

Grumble.

I was just looking at this picture from a few weeks ago and realizing that I am not going to be able to keep up my fucking awesome body if I don't get better. Yeah, that was a bit egotistical but you know what? I was a lard ass and I work hard for my body that I have now. Right now I'm doing okay and not turning into a complete pile of shit but I've been sick for two fucking weeks. TWO FUCKING WEEKS. No jiu jitsu, no muay thai, no running... shit, i haven't even walked the dogs in 2 weeks. The only activity I do is sex and that's because I can't help myself. My boyfriend is ridiculously good looking, especially when naked, and I don't care if I'm sick and dying, I want dick. Actually, I think he dicks me because it keeps me from being a bitch. The more dick I get, the less of a complete bitch I am. The only reason why I haven't lost my body in this two week couch span is because of all my regular dickins. Anyway, I eat fucking ridiculously healthy with the exception of my over indulgence in clam chowder when I went up north with the boyfriend, but that was a planned pig-out. I feel like complete crap and it's annoying. Turning into a pile of rotting shit isn't in my plans. My plans have been to become a fucking bad ass fighter and kill people but clearly this is not working in my favor if I'm couch/bed ridden. I'm at the point where I don't know what to do with myself. I'm tired, grouchy, constantly coughing, my lungs hurt, antibiotics don't work, tea doesn't help, inhaler doesn't help, codeine cough syrup doesn't work, wtf?? am i broken? is this punishment for having a better sex life than anyone else on this planet? c'mon, i will sign my soul to the devil to get rid of this cough.

Since I can't sleep tonight I've been on YELP and adding my two very important cents all over the place. If you look at my twitter that's on the side of this blog, my links to my reviews are there. Go read them. Now.

The Practically Married Life.

So I wrote a really long blog about how I'm practically married and basically updated about my weekend and how great life is because my boyfriend is amazing, blah blah blah, and one day I plan on officially sealing my fate in paper with him, blah blah blah. Then I realized that I'm boring as all fucking Hell and it has taken a toll on my rantings, ravings and my normal crazies which used to frequent my blog. I have such a fucking incredible sex life I should talk about and I don't post about it because my asshole parents read my blog. I realized that I'm god damn 25 years old and if my parents honestly don't think 99.99% of the reason I don't live at home anymore is because Jamie and I hold each other all night and whisper sweet nothings to each other without genitals touching and that I wear a chastity belt to bed, then they both have really bad alcohol problems or... nope, nothing else comes to mind. they must be alcoholics if they could ever think that. Look, the reality is that I won't buy a car without test driving it. Why would I ever make an investment such as my precious fucking time without a test fuck? I DO NOT WASTE MY TIME WITH SMALL PENIS. I mean, there's really no point. If my cervix does not feel like it is being beaten with a baseball bat and left to die in the middle of the street, I want no part of it. There isn't a chance in hell my vagina will get near it. I do not accidentally fall on little penis, nor do I get too drunk and accidentally sleep with little penis. It just doesn't happen, and this is why I possess hands and they do not fail me. See, what happens is my body shuts down and is like MAYDAY, MAYDAY, MAYYYDAAYY!!!

Jamie, to this day, still questions why I'm with him. Probably because the first time he asked me this question I answered him with "because your dick is gigantic" and he responded all seriously with, "OHHHH, it's not my fantastic personality or that I'm funny or I make you happy or even my looks..." and I said "Sweetie, look, you're all those things... But if you did not have the gigantic penis you have, I would not be with you." Basically if Jamie and I ever break up I am going to be stuck dating black men that fit the famous stereotype that black guys don't mind having unless they're not equipped to fit that stereotype. All I know is that I am cock-jaded and this is probably a bad thing.Good thing I plan on keeping Jamie forever. Or at least his penis. I'll cast a rubber mold of it or chop it off and bronze it if I need to.

Trips.

I'm so not used to having a boyfriend that plans shit with me. I mean, I'm really not. After a million fucking years with a fullblown asshole that had complete disregard for anything involving my feelings and who was the most selfish person on the planet, I'm in relationship-shock. I guess I got so used to being walked all over that even after being with Jamie for a while now I'm still not used to being with someone who makes me so happy. We plan our lives together, and everything we do is about us and what makes us both happy, no questions. He's literally everything I've ever wanted in a partner in crime and life. Bliss isn't even enough to really explain how great my life is these days. Often times I'll just sit and giggle because sometimes I don't think my life is real anymore. And if this isn't real, I don't want to wake up from it. To think a number of months ago I didn't want to be in a serious relationship ever again. I was on this quest to just do whatever the fuck I wanted and be happy on my own, and damn right I was... But I discovered that it's still possible to do whatever the fuck I want while having a boyfriend. The key is to find someone who wants to do all the things you want to do and then do them together. It makes life SO much better. I feel like everyone lonely bastard in the world should be jealous of me right now. :)

So the point of this post is that my boyfriend's birthday is coming up next month and we're trying to plan a trip for it. We were planning on going to Costa Rica at the end of this month, but with his grandfather passing and other family stuff going on, they're doing a memorial in central California when we were supposed to be in Costa Rica so we're planning something else now. We're both bummed but it's completely understandable, Jamie knew his grandfather was going to pass a few months ago so I guess he and his family have just been waiting for it, as sad as that sounds. I went to their family BBQ up at their ranch a few months ago when they thought he was going to pass within the week. I almost feel like it was selfish of us to plan a trip without knowing if his grandfather would be around or not. Plus, we just got back from Monterey so I mean it's not like we haven't done anything this month. Because of our work/school schedules it will be nearly impossible for us to take a lot of time off in September since I'm going back to Spain and France with my mom in November - and he has a wedding in Chile to attend shortly thereafter my trip to Europe and I want to go with him. He lived in Santiago twice and I remember speaking to him when he was down there and how much he loved it. He talks about Chile all the time and how much he misses it and I would like to see that city with him. So for planning his birthday trip, we're thinking somewhere in the Caribbean, Mexico or Hawaii. We've found some really great deals for the Mayan Riviera and since we both love Mayan history and culture, we will probably end up there. The only part I'm bummed about is that we always do things where there's humidity and my hair gets all frizzy-Jewy, so when we go to take pictures I look like a monster (like the ones posted above, when we were on the pier in Monterey). It's like the Jew within me stays hidden until there's humidity and then I look like complete crap. Sorry Jews, you guys are notorious for having terribly frizzy hair and since that shit's in my blood, I am no exception to that rule. THANK YOU, REALLY.

I guess that's it. When we reserve the trip I will be posting all about it. :)

Central Cal with the BF in pictures.

I told you so.

Sometimes being right is really bittersweet. Sometimes you really wish the best for a person despite your absolute disdain for said person because it's bad ju-ju to wish ill upon a person you once cared about. Combine concrete gossip into that mix, one can't help but laugh at the series of events that have taken place over said amount of time. I hate laughing when I'm right over something so terrible. But at the same time, I would never do what this person has done in order to keep a down-right cunt. I wish I could have sugarcoated that but I can't. A cunt is a cunt and there's no way around it. My rekindled friendships over the past few weeks with people that were basically family to me at one point in time really warms my heart in many ways, knowing how much I was missed and how much they cared, but saddens me under the circumstances in which they came back to me. Granted I ripped myself away from these old friendships because of the circumstances at the time, but now what I'm hearing really makes me question the integrity of one person in particular. It makes me question so much more than what's on the surface. The insecurity behind the lies and the search for validity within them, it's all so transparent to me and I hate it. I shouldn't care anymore, but I do in a way, mostly because everything I once knew was one elongated lie.

I sit here and laugh because I was right. I was right from the beginning. I was right from the moment this telenovela started. People don't change overnight and someone else can't force you to do things you once stood against so strongly. You can't be someone you're not out of sheer loneliness and codependency. You can't kiss your lifestyle and all your friends goodbye for a person that's a complete hypocrite. Your friends who stood by you through thick and thin, that may not be doctors and lawyers as apparently everyone needs to be, but people who are really incredible people deep down. You essentially said FUCK YOU to them, for a person who demeaned all your friends and their lifestyle when that was you. You were them. You changed for a person who hated who you truly were and that's no way to live. To become what is essentially a project, to become a person who can't think for yourself, to become a person who is so desperate for something that doesn't exist, to become something for someone else because you wanted something so badly. That, right there in itself, is not real. You were never good enough in the first place then, and maybe you should realize that. That's not necessarily a bad thing, either. Be true to yourself. Live the dream you spoke of. Be the person that you said you were when I questioned your integrity to your face. Be the person you said you could and don't prove me right anymore. I hate being right, and I hate knowing that to this day I still know you better than you know yourself.

Situations like the one I speak of above reminds me each and every single day how absolutely lucky I am. I have the greatest people in my life. I have the most wonderful, loving and supportive family anyone could ever want. I have the greatest friends I could ever ask for, most of them being in my life for over a decade and so many that will be there in the upcoming decades. I have a new adopted family with Paragon, and I couldn't be more thankful for introducing me to this sport and how much I love it. I have an incredible boyfriend who cares for me, exactly as I am, and doesn't want to change me. He and I will go through hardships in the future, as he's military, but I am confident that we will make it through it all. I have the most incredible opportunity coming my way as of January and I wouldn't be pursuing this dream if it weren't from the influence and guidance of my close friend Seamus, to whom I am so thankful for. I am a lucky person. I feel like it took a lot of hurt and downfalls to get to where I am today, but without the people in my life who love me, I wouldn't be here. All I can do from here is keep going up. No one will ever tear me down again.

Cranky.

I'm sick and cranky. I HATE BEING SICK AND CRANKY.

My boyfriend and I have somewhat made a weekly tradition of going to my favorite Mexican restaurant, so on Sunday we went to our Mexican place like we always do on the weekends then we went to see a movie and everything was peachy. Suddenly, 2 a.m. hits and I'm overwhelmed with nausea and I'm like OH NOES I AM GONNA VOMS. What's worse is that we were at his parents house and I have NO CLUE where anything is medicine wise and he sleeps like the dead so it was up to me to try to fix myself. NEEDLESS TO SAY I GOT NOTHING ACCOMPLISHED BUT FINDING MYSELF A BOTTLE OF WATER and I literally sat up all night in misery trying not to voms everywhere. I went home at like 6 in the morning, which I guess is a semi-normal time for me. I always wake up at 6 am, if not earlier these days, but because I had not slept a wink all night due to the voms feeling it was really difficult for me to drive a half mile home. Shit, normally I leave his house at the north end of the valley by 6:30 in the morning and drive home like 15-ish miles without a problem but geez, the half mile home drive was hell. I stayed home from work yesterday and laid around in fetal position all day. At some point I felt like I needed some sun and fell asleep sprawled out on a lawn chair and woke up two hours later drenched in my own sweat. I don't know what's wrong with me and one minute I thought it was food poisoning and now I think I have a bad cold of some sort but either way it sucks. I'm supposed to be going to work soon and all I can do is lay here on my couch with my dog and think about how much this feeling sucks. I haven't gone to muay thai training or jiu jitsu training since Thursday. Saturday we had the ceremony up in Santa Barbara so open mat wasn't an option and I hate this feeling of not training. The combination of not training + being sick + being cranky = wanna kill. Thankfully I wake up every morning to someone that adores me and wakes me up with kisses and tells me I'm beautiful, even in my most smeagol-like moments. He makes being sick not so bad. I woke up this morning being so wrapped up in his arms and the blankets that I was boiling and I'd rather feel hot when I'm sick than cold. cold always means I have a fever and NOT having a fever is a good thing right now.

I don't even know why i'm rambling at this point. i guess that's what sick people do.

Family.

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