WTH: Pre-Spring Semester in Seclusion....

This is the first of a few backlogged posts that I didn't have time to get to...
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The moment the holiday season hits with thanksgiving my life starts its speed round but this year it was worse.

Having some of my more difficult finals coincide with the holidays and quite a few birthday was like adding an accelerant to a Greek fire. By the end of my fall semester (officially the end to my first year) I had completely burnt myself out.

My kickboxing went out the window replaced by hours of essays, papers, lab reports, studying, and math exercises and when the dust had settled I was in a full on Fibromyalgia crisis. I stayed home almost my whole break only going out for holidays and birthdays. Then when I thought I was getting better I got hit by some sort of semi-flu. It's what happens when you get infected with a bad strain of the flu but you don't quite get sick because you got the flu shot, so your body becomes the battleground and you suffer from some of the physical symptoms without the fever and vomiting. Not sure if my Fibromyalgia exasperated it but it was bad. My lymph-nodes on the entire right side of my upper body were so swollen that it actually caused me pain to move. Like fingers of pain reaching from my lower right jaw and behind my right ear, around the back of my head, down my neck and right shoulder, into my armpit spreading around my back and down my arm. The pain and swelling alone caused constant headaches and stiff necks which I haven't suffered from since I was a kid.

As of this writing I'm finally feeling better. I have energy again, most of the symptoms have gone except lingering neck and head pains, and I've gained back the weight I had lost, all just in time for the beginning of the spring semester...lol...

Re-awaking My Inner Voice: Another Apocalypse Let Down and College Year 1 Locked DOWN!!!

I'm Still ALIVE!!...or did I die and hell looks exactly like my life...lol...if that's the case then hell aint too bad so far...guess I'll never know...lol
Some media actually asked the descendants of the Mayans if they were ready for the end of the world and they looked at the guy like he was crazy. One dude even said that us freaking out about it was like "freaking out every year when the calender ends on December 31st. The world doesn't end at the last page of our calender, so why would we think it would end on the Mayans calendar." He was also going to work on Friday just like any day...lol
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Well here I am again....
It's been so long since I've written just for myself I feel like a foal after being born trying to find her legs. Reconnecting with my inner voice, my writers voice, is proving itself rather tricky especially since I still have that left over stress from finishing my first fall semester.

But that's right Bitches!...I've officially finished my first year of college...What..WHAT!! but I have yet to fully accept it for some reason...
I actually still feel anxious like I have an essay or paper that I forgot to write, or some project I forgot to do so I can't seem to relax. But maybe I just need to get my grades so it can sink in and my sphincter can relax...

Then there's the ex crap.

Yes more ex crap!
Since October I've had a lot of trouble unconsciously thinking about the ex, missing him, worrying about him when Sandy hit, and because of the storm we spoke again. But when you miss someone you always just seem to remember the good times and I had to remind myself it wasn't all "good times". There was a reason I broke up with him and that hadn't changed. So though I was writing poems in my head about how I felt just needing to expel the crap that was clouding my vision and weighing on my chest I couldn't. I was so consumed with school work I barely had time to do that let alone write for my own sanity. It got so bad that it was actually distracting me and I was slipping up with my work load. That was when I gave myself a reality check, put my priorities in order, and really threw myself completely into what was important, my education. I had to remind myself that I've come too far to let anything and I mean ANYTHING stop me from following my path.

He and I were like two puzzle pieces that look like they fit perfectly together, but in fact one piece has a small rough corner while the other has a smooth one. No matter how hard you try to shove those pieces together, pushing and forcing them, they're just not gonna fit. At least not unless you cut one of them, but then if you cut it, what was the point of doing the puzzle in the first place.
But life moves on and I know my life isn't over. In fact I had a very sweet though rather hyper 16 year old competing with this other guy on who was gonna sit next to me in class. Both were complete flirts which I wont lie was rather nice when the last guy you were with made you feel unattractive and it was very sweet in a creepy kinda way considering I'm old enough to be his mother...lol...but it was nice just to know someone was interested. Obviously nothing came of it because I'm not a pedophile, and the other dude was sweet, but not my type so I made sure not to be too friendly with either one and  finals came and went without me having to deal with any uncomfortable conversations.

But speaking about dudes flirting with me, there was this one real "winner" in my Biology Lab class who was one of the reasons I started taking kickboxing classes, because I wanted to literally KILL HIM!!!
All I can figure is that he must live in one of those pretty people bubbles believing that because he's good looking all he has to do is flirt with his female classmates and they'll fall all over themselves to basically do his work for him. Well I was his kryptonite because non of his tricks worked on me and his inability with me effected his game with our other remaining female lab partners. If anything the harder he tried with me, the more it just pissed me off. He's one of those assholes who doesn't want to do his work, wants you to tell him the answers cause he doesn't want to think, or will argue with you if you know his answer is wrong and you tell him so. He must be so used to people telling him yes and giving him what he wants that when I first told him no he looked so shocked that I laughed at him.
The last lab we had together we were all using our phones to take pictures of some papers we needed to use to help practice for our final and he made the mistake of telling me to just send him my picture. That was my breaking point. I looked at him and the words just flew out of my mouth.
"Excuse Me!!...You did NOT just tell Me to send you a picture of something that you are fully capable taking yourself." He then said with a smile "Oh you know I don't like taking pictures". To which I responded. "You know...your so full of shit! I don't give a flying rats ass what you "like" to do, you got a cell phone just like the rest of us, you can take your own damn picture! I'm not your Mama!"
Of course he laughed just as assholes do, and my other lab partners who were also fed up with his shit just looked at me with satisfied smiles on there faces. I then spent the rest of the time we had left in class trying to keep myself from leaping across the table like some 70's TV show cop leaping over the hood of a car and punching him the throat.

Ok...that's enough for now...

(photo above The White Wolf Woman by ~dkjart)

The Two Faces of Lina: Comic Con and Kicking My ASS Off

I've been soo busy with my full school schedule I haven't had time to do much of anything let alone blog, so here's a quick update on things....

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Went to Comic Con on Sunday, October 12th. Once again I went with my girlfriend who got me a deal on tickets. Was also supposed to meet up with an Ex from way back when who was working at the con but between getting their late, the madness of the place, my short stature, and how busy he got, we never saw one another. Somehow it seems as if in my world men and Comic Con don't mix.
My other Ex (the more recent one) wanted to go with me when we were apart, then when we got together and Comic Con rolled around he wasn't interested. Now with this old ex, waning me to meet him there, even offering to get me in for free, than when I get there, poof, he's buried in customers and I can't find him nor my way from A to Z because the place is so packed with people.
For the little time I was there I enjoyed myself, until I pulled my back out dodging out of the way of some stupid asshole kids...yep I'm becoming an old lady...lol

Oh well...at least I got my gift from him...which was really rather neat.
He got me a handmade Klingon slave girl statue that he had showed me years ago and had said reminded him of me. She's got the same body type as me except a little lighter on a few pounds, and when I saw her it was the first time I saw my body shape in a positive light. You see my ex never had a problem with my body. He seemed to like it just the way it was, though I had my issues, so when I saw this statue it was like seeing myself the way he saw me and for the first time I saw myself as being sexy. Back then I had wanted to buy it, but the man who had made it only made two and both had sold out. Well it turns out my Ex never forgot how much I loved it, contacted the guy and convinced him to sculpt one more, which he then bought for me and held on to it for all these years.
Pretty impressive for a guy who can be and still is such a dick...lol

So since I started writing this blog it's been a little over a month of Kickboxing and I've lost a total of 10 pounds, which isn't that much considering the time, but when I look at the bigger picture I was actually amazed at my progress.

When I began the class it worked me so hard I left it completely wasted and wanting to puke. My legs were shaking making walking a challenge and any stairs I encountered became a scary obstacle. Then that weekend my body literally shut down. Moving any part of my body became excruciating, I was walking like Frankenstein and stairs became a ridiculous impossibility because the pain would actually buckle my knees. In fact that weekend I became stuck in my aunts basement, only going up if my bladder was busting and only by double stepping every stair. I needed about 4 days to recover each time, but even though it was painful somehow it felt like good pain. I felt parts of my body hurt I didn't even know had muscle. So at the beginning I had to arrange my schedule so I could take the class and be out of commission for 4 days, not an easy task when your going to school too, which meant I could go once a week only. So I started once a week for about three weeks before my body and stamina were strong enough to do it twice a week. I couldn't change how I ate right away because of my busy schedule. But exercising as hard as I was made me want to take control of what I was putting into my body. I spent a little money on a juicer, bought a well received liquid vitamin, and slowly replaced all sugar drinks in my house with seltzer, and ordered crap with healthy options. Now I find when I indulge in something bad it'll taste funny, or taste too sweet. Because of that I find myself even more unconsciously drawn to healthy options.

But the biggest change has been in my body.

They always say don't trust the scale trust your clothing, well they were fucking right!!

It started off with little things like going up hills took less effort, my thighs seemed thinner or my school bag didn't feel as heavy. But now it's showing in the way my stomach is disappearing, in my posture, and in the way my body responds to my workouts. Hell...I did 20 partnered push ups the other day where you push up then high five your partner, and I've never done 20 push ups in my LIFE, plus I did them straight without stopping....lol

 But now after I finish a workout I may feel physically exhausted, but I feel energized at the same time. I end up refreshed and look forward to my next workout though I know afterward I'm gonna pay. I'm craving it but now that I'm seeing results the pain seems worth it.

Ok...Since this blog is already too long...I'll leave the other stuff (namely school stuff) for another blog...

(Picture above I took at Comic Con)

IT'S ALIVE: The Resurrection of Running My Ass OFF...

So...this has been a long time coming but it needed to happen...
I'm bringing back to life my "get fit" campaign called "Running My Ass OFF"...because I'm tired of being out of shape and allowing all my stress to expand the size of my Ass!
The only thing is I'm gonna roll this in a bit of a different direction and I am no longer going to do it all on my own...
I've decided I needed help and that help is coming in the form of kickboxing classes...

Yes...I am now taking kickboxing classes...HA!

It's funny cause with everything that's been going on, it was my stress that actually gave me the idea...
After finding out my uncle had been diagnosed with lymphoma my stress level hit a whole new high. I found myself mad almost all the time and if I didn't want to cry I wanted to hit something. So every time I went to my aunts house, if I started to feel angry or upset, I would make use of the neglected punching bag in her basement gym.
Not only did I find that punching and kicking the living shit out of it helped tremendously, but I found it came almost naturally to me. I wasn't flaying my arms like a girl, but I was hitting and kicking like I had training and I was enjoying it. I enjoyed how tired I would get after a few punches and kicks, but how I wanted to do more. How I would feel calmer afterward, yet strangely energized and invigorated.
So I started looking into kickboxing classes.

I did the Google searches and asked people I knew, but the one place that kept coming up was ILoveKickboxing.com. At first I was skeptical since the web sight looked like one of those low graphic "as seen on TV" bogus sights that turns out not to be legitimate, but what kept it on my radar was it's multiple locations (one a couple of subway stops from my school), their web deal of 3 classes for $20 including free gloves (no not promoting just stating facts), and finally that my favorite Biggest Loser Tara Costa is there official spokesperson (yea I know...but she was the only person I could stand on that show...lol)
So I put it to the side for awhile nervous if I should take the plunge and if it would be worth it, when my mother comes to me telling me about this sight she found for a kickboxing classes and my aunt tells me she also passed by a kickboxing gym and got me its info. Both of them had found the same place I had on there own, and my aunt had actually gone to the location I was interested in and said it looked good.

For me that was it. Like a sign from the fates telling me to "just do it already!". As you can imagine, when the universe yells at you that loudly, you better start listening, so that night I signed up and the next day I made an appointment for my first class that Friday.
I did it, I took the plunge, so now it's just a matter of seeing if my body can handle it...

I'll talk about my first few classes in my next installment called "Kickboxing my Ass Off"...

Left Behind: Many Months Of Updates...

I've been dealing with so many things...so much shit I don't know where to begin.... and because of that I'm afraid this blog is going to sound like a rather long self pity party...so let me start with the good.

I've been studying hard and aced my midterm, (got 102% which is because I got the 4 point extra credit but lost 2 points for mislabeling one of my answers) and got a 98% on my final (which I was actually pissed about) which landed me an exact score of 100% for the whole class which means I hold on to that 4.0 GPA....But that's about it for the good news...

As for the bad (and I'll try to keep most of this brief in order to avoid sounding like I'm whining...)...

Lets start with the weight gain since my breakup...
He made me feel like a cow and now I've turned into more of a cow. Granted it's only 10 pounds but that's A LOT! I know part of it is the depression but also how he made me feel before I left. I've come to realized that my weight is my way of hiding from people, especially men, like a protection mechanism. So for instance if I feel bad about myself I don't want people to see me, so I eat more and gain weight, in a sense becoming invisible to most people. The better I feel about myself, and my body, the more I like myself the way I am, the more weight I loose because I don't mind people seeing me. It took me so many years to build up my confidence, to be ok with people noticing me again, and once I started feeling good about myself, even when I was really heavy, is when the weight started to really come off. It's just the way I seem to work. The happier I am with myself, the more weight I loose and the happier I become. The more I hate my body, the more weight I gain, and the more I hate myself. They're a domino effect that once started, is hard to stop. My break up got me falling in the wrong direction and now I'm struggling to catch up and stop it so I can get it moving in the right direction again.
But the break up isn't the only reason I've been gaining weight. Stress worrying over my family is another factor.

First there was my Mom, breaking right wrist on Mothers Day....and yes she is right handed...
We had just gotten back from a great dinner at my aunts house and were walking the dog, when this lady came up on us with her two sheep dogs leading the way. Max was in the middle of peeing on a tree when one of her dogs barked at us, and Max lunged sending my mother flying into the sidewalk face first, her feet unstable because of the trees roots. I saw her fall, forward on her hands and knew from the way she landed that it was bad, but had to chase after Max before things got worse. So jumping into the dog fight without even thinking about how dangerous that is, I got my hands on Max, got him in control and rushed back to my mother to help her up. From the way she was holding her right wrist I knew she was hurt bad, but it wasn't till I asked her if she was ok, and she replied "no", an answer she never gives me, that I knew we were headed to the ER.
She had fractured her wrist and broke her ring finger to the point that they needed to put pins in and she had to go on disability, so since that night I've been running the house.
I walk the dog, cook, clean, fill out forms and pay what bills that need checks or signatures (as my mom can't write with her left hand) all while going to school, and work. I guess the silver lining in all this is that I always knew I could run a house, but it's different now that I'm actually doing it. Sure I'm exhausted, but its a "proud of myself" kind of exhaustion, and by stepping up without being asked, I've seemed to have earned another level of my mothers respect.

Then finally the thing that has me the most stressed. The thing that has kept me up at night and edgy is whats been going on with my uncle.
My uncle has a tumor growing behind his ear, right over his limp-nodes, and we found out it's lymphoma. He's had it for months, and since he doesn't have insurance, he goes to a clinic which means it takes forever to get anything done. He had a biopsy done but when the results came back inconclusive, they decided he had to have a surgical biopsy done. 
The week after my birthday is when they scheduled his surgery, and even though I went straight from my night class to catch a 10pm train out to NJ so I could go with him to the hospital, he didn't want me there.
He made some excuses about how I needed to stay home with the dog, and when I tried to tell him the dog would be fine he got mad. So even though it broke my heart I stayed at the house because this wasn't about me and all I wanted was for him to be ok, one way or the other.
So I sat in my aunts house hurt and worried. Jumping at every phone call while wallowing in self pity, but still my mind understood why he didn't want me there. He was scared, and he didn't want anyone, let alone me, to see him like that. I understood because the same thing happened when his Mom my Grandma passed away. His way of dealing with something he's afraid of, something he can't control or runaway from is to lash out, especially at those closest to him.
I dealt with my pain for weeks, and he continued to push people away, until my Mom stepped in and had a talk with him about it.
This wasn't something to handle alone, especially not when he has so many people who love him and are there to help. Even the doctor told him not to deal with this alone. That when your dealing with something like cancer it's important to have people around you to help you, because it's so overwhelming on your own you could forget things, or even not show up for treatment.
When he saw what he was doing, things changed. Not only did he welcome Moms help he wanted me around too. And when I didn't understand why my mother told me that if he had to have anyone around he wanted me because I was one of the few people he felt safe with and could talk to.
As you can imagine, that made me cry because this man is one of the most important people in my life. When my father wasn't around he was there, taking me to class, picking me up from ballet or swimming, teaching me how to hit a ball or do a proper sleeper hold. He's the man I compare other men to. He's my Dad/older annoying brother. 
So I put away past pain, prepared for any future ugliness, and dove in.
Since then we found out about what type of lymphoma it is, and how its not curable, but because it's in its early stages and hasn't spread it can be treated. That he has to undergo radiation but not chemo and with any  luck once the cancer is treated it shouldn't make another appearance for a few years.

In a nut shell....no matter what happens, no matter how much stress I have to endure, no matter how broken, or beaten I sometimes feel, not matter how fat my ass gets, one thing I can swear...
If he or anyone else in my family needs me I'll be there, because I wouldn't have all that I have, or been able to deal with the shit the fates have put in my way without them...
I will keep fighting...for them and for me...

Always and forever...

This is a Blog for a few of my ASSHOLE Prospective Suitors....

I am as of this moment sitting in my living room, unable to sleep worried about if tomorrow I find out that my uncle, who is like my father, has lymphoma...so I'm not in a writing kind of mood...but this is something that's been bothering me and I have to get it off my chest before I go off on someone...
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I don't know if the guys who are interested in me even read my blog and frankly I don't really care. I am tired of feeling like a wounded animal surrounded by jackals waiting for me to die!
If I tell you I just got out of a relationship, with the only man I've ever loved, and that I need time, why would you push it??

It's been about 3 months since my breakup...
I don't know if this tactic has worked on women in the past, or if you think because I'm wounded that I'm weak and an easy fuck, but all that does is piss me the FUCK Off!!
If I say I need time, guess what that means, that I fucking need time!!
I don't need anyone telling me that I have to get over it, I'll get over it when I'm fucking ready to and not before!!
And where the FUCK do you get the balls to TELL ME that I need to get over it already because
"he didn't love you.."
HOLY SHIT!! ARE YOUR FUCKING KIDDING ME??
How in Gods name do you even let that come out of your mouth??
You don't think I know that!!
You don't think that's the main reason I finally decided to break up with him!!
How Dare YOU!!!!

I really don't understand men anymore...
When I say I need time, I NEED TIME...
It's not rocket science people...I don't say one thing and mean another...I'm pretty straight forward about things when I'm able to talk about it...
So if I say I need time, then either you be a friend and give me that time or walk the fuck away...
If and when I'm ready to pursue a relationship with you, I'll let you know...
If your still single then great, if not, so be it...but I'm not gonna rush into something like some fucking insecure bimbo who can't stand on her own two feet for more then five minuets.

I've been single before and it's no skin off my noes...
Sure I have a libido to rival any man, but guess what, technology is a wonderful thing....

Fucking ASSHOLES!!!

I Can't Believe I Forgot to Write About My Tattoos!!!!!

Yep...I got me some tattoos!!!
By no means my first tattoos, but definitely the most significant since the very first one I got when I turned 18.

Not only are they my first truly visible tattoos (my others are on my back), what they represent is a new stage in my life that I've worked so hard to get to but never believed I would actually achieve. They represent getting my life back on track, getting back to school, getting into college, and completing my very first semester.

They are wolf paws (actual sized) with a scene of a tee-pee and fire under a full moon and dusk sky within one, and a wolf eye looking through the paw print back out at you, in the other...

Now I know what some of you are gonna say about tattoos...
That here's just another woman ruining her future by marking herself up like some common floozy, limiting her choices of employment, and even limiting her pool of potential mates. That just like everyone else she picks some random "symbol" to represent some meaning that no one but her will understand, so they will seem confusing to everyone else. That I'll look horrible when I'm old and my tattoos are all warped and saggy...yea...yea...heard them all....
But unlike a lot of these people out here who are getting tattoos because they are following a growing fad, I've loved tattoos since I was old enough to form vowels. The idea of wearing someones artwork as a part of you forever I always found fascinating and beautiful. The fact that it's reminiscent and originated from of ancient tribal practices that used them to mark important times in a persons life appealed to me most of all. That's why each tattoo I have I got during an important time in my life. Each one is a way of remembering an important time in my life, an important step in my journey, and by setting a reminder within my skin, I never forget it or the pain that it took to get me there.

These kick ass tattoos were done by an equally kick ass artist by the name of Alex Sherker, who lives on Wizard Mountain...;-)
An old acquaintances from when I was a teenager and going to native ceremony's. He's a big guy who probably could break me like a twig, and has probably broken others, but was nothing but a sweet gentlemen with a twisted and warped sense of humor (so u know he's my people).
He's basically a tall bearded wizard who welds a tattoo wand, a funny ass dude and a great guy. Plus if your lucky, he'll introduce you to his second in command Genkie (hope I spelled that right), his beautiful dingo mix.
Right now he's doing private tattoos out of his studio in New York but because his web sight is currently down, the best way to contact him is on Facebook.

The weirdest part is I found him by mistake. I was looking for a good tattoo studio in Manhattan, close to school and discovered a shop called  East Side Ink...While looking through their porfolio, the high level of skill that these guys possessed actually made me giddy with excitement, but then I saw a familar face. I couldn't place it at first until I saw some old pictures my teacher had up on her Facebook page and realized I met the dude years ago when I was in high school. It was then I knew this was the guy who was gonna do my tattoo. It was way too coincidental. So I started up communication, found out he was just as cool as I remembered and got the ball rolling.

It took 3 1/2 - 4 hours (can't quite remember since I was high on endorphin's by the end of it...lol), with a 5 min break between each arm. Probably should have done each arm in separate sessions, but between wanting to be a bad ass, needing to get the pain over with so I wouldn't pussy out, and anxiously wanting to see it all finished, I pushed through.

Some people though excited about me getting my tattoos at first had a bit of a reverse reaction once they finally saw how big they were and where they were placed. My aunts who loved the idea of me getting ink all of a sudden seemed shocked and worried that they were too big and would be too visible, but eventually got over it and became positive again.
Then my uncles, who I expected a strong negative reaction from because of how they had reacted when I had revealed my first couple tattoos, seemed to handle it better then their sisters.
My mom of course was solid and unchanging with her enthusiasm. Not only accompanying me when I got the tattoos, but was chomping at the bit to help me plan my next one.
But I began to realized my family weren't the only ones reacting to my new tattoos.

I was now getting side glances on the train as well as funny looks while walking down the street. But this, unlike my families reaction, I found rather humorous.
So I began fucking around with people on my train rides to class. I would make sure I left the house looking very cute and sweet, but making sure my tattoos were covered. Then when I got on the train, nice and comfortably seated, I'd raise my sleeves and watch the fireworks of popping eyelids and double takes.
It's like smorgasbord of expressions, my favorite being confusion...lol

So yes...I got me a pair of bold tattoos...the first ones I don't need a mirror and gymnastic flexibility to look at and I'm super happy with them. I've already started to forget they're even there and am already thinking about my next one...
The only thing is I have yet to tell my father...because I know he's NOT gonna react well and because I'm a chicken shit...
I might be able to sit through almost constant pain like a bad ass but I'm still a chicken on some things....

Well....at least I'm an honest chicken...lmao!