A Long Overdue Blog About Eating

Remember that time I had that blog that I kept up with?

I feel like I've been putting off this blog just so I don't jinx it. But we are in the midst of a unit in my Women in Lit class and developmental psych class about eating disorders so I was feeling inspired to write this now. I set this goal for myself around Easter last year to take some time to undo some weird habits I have with food. For a full rundown of neurotic tendencies click the link labeled "health" on the sidebar and it'll take you to my previous (and apparently only) food blog. Summary: I felt like my mindset was on a treadmill and I was getting sick of the organization, but I didn't know how far I would fly if I just stopped running. How'd ya like that metaphor?

Here's the quick and dirty version of the goal list:

1. Stop weighing yourself every day.
2. Be accepting of how your body looks, and make any changes to it in a non-drastic, calm manner.
3. Stop counting calories
           A) Also, weight watchers points, rough guesses, categories of foods, and strict time rules are out as well. Same thing. Just don't.
4. Eat when you're hungry, don't eat when you're not hungry.

I'm sure this applies to more than just me because I've had a lot of discussions with my friends and family about exercise and nutrition. If you've been in the same boat I hope you get something out of this. If not feel free to scoff at my moderately self-congratulatory blog. I won't take offence.

Not weighing myself was easier than I thought it would be. For the first week or so I was a little freaked out because I had no way of monitoring any changes in weight (really? wow! is that how that works?). I measured my waist size every couple days just so I felt like I had something, but after a few months of that, I stopped after I had this realization about how body composition.

I'm basically a child and if I don't get to run around every couple days, I literally lose my shit (there's more swearing in this blog, just a heads up). So in the summer I run, and since I am in a loving relationship with my bike, I ride it everywhere. I lose muscle mass and slim out. During the school year my butt is confined to a desk most of the day, but I do get to take ballet class for nearly 5 hours a week. Apparently I have the muscle composition of a male gymnast (not upset about it) and bulk up immediately once I switch from cardio to strength training. This used to really wig me out because not only did I gain weight, but my ass got bigger and my clothes fit differently. I'm a small person. I'm not complaining. But anyone who gets neurotic about food knows that this matters.

Without having a concrete number, I changed my focus from how my body looked to what my body could do. And let me tell you, it made the whole pink tights black leotard ordeal easier to swallow. I can honestly say that I don't give a shit if I have a nice cushion of fluff over my abs. Because my abs can haul my legs all over the place, and since I eat before class I have SO MUCH ENERGY. It's literally the greatest I have ever felt.

Another thing, I actually started feeling "full" and "hungry" again. I don't know if this is anyone else's experience, but when I start dieting, I so carefully plan when and what I can eat that I don't really get hungry. Mostly I made myself eat at a certain point because I knew that I wasn't going to eat for the rest of the day or the next few hours or whatever. Eventually my body gave up on trying to cue me and just went along for the ride. This works well enough, but it's so much more satisfying to just eat what you want when you want to. I mean, sometimes I have to tell myself that eating half a bag (and I'm taking the giant ones) of M&Ms at midnight is not a good idea, but that's only because I know I'll feel like death after. Not because it's like 2000 calories.

This ^ pretty much negated the need to count calories. First grade taught me what healthy foods are. And I realized that when I eat a variety of foods (as opposed to all fruit all day and then pizza and chocolate at night...oh Weight Watchers...you know what I'm saying.) I feel so much better. I'm not bogged down by the digestive hell storm that is your lower intestines after a day of eating solely coffee and apples.

Secondary realization, I actually like working out. I've always loved dance, and didn't always explicitly look at it as a means to burn calories, but occasionally that's all it was. Again, by taking the focus off my perception of my thighs in a high cut leotard, I enjoyed the expression in the movement much more. Similar thing happened to running. Running releases endorphins. It's about as close to joyous childhood frolicking as I get in my day to day. It's so much easier to motivate a run when it's not just about the number of calories you're gonna burn.

Thirdly: Again, I don't want to speak for everyone, but when I'm trying to lose weight I compare myself to literally everyone. About half the time I'm confident that I'm the fattest person in the room always and forever, and the other half of the time, I'm scrutinizing the Victoria's Secret models for rolls. And like, what is that?! I mean, I'm typing it and it's ridiculous. I was so ashamed of this because it plays directly into our culture's unattainable standards of beauty. I knew rationally that bodies aren't supposed to look like the photos in magazines, but I couldn't apply it to actual humans. Fortunately, after I let myself off the hook, my external gaze shifted too. I am apprehensive to include this paragraph because I don't want my friends thinking that I was or still am or ever will look judgmentally on their figures. Because personally, I can never tell when people change weight. Like, you have to gain or lose an entire person before I'll notice.  But the above perception is real. It came up in all of the books I've been reading about body image in my women in lit class, so I'm taking that as my cue that I am not alone in this. When unhealthily rail thin is your ideal, it's easy to see how few actual bodies achieve it. And that is not a healthy way to look at yourself or other people. For obvious reasons. Yeah. Please let me know if you need clarification here. Because it's a controversial and uncomfortable point and I want to be sure I explained it clearly.

MMmmm we've already taken a turn from the light and fluffy, so might as well throw in the mis-steps here. About midway through first semester I was really stressed out and fell riiiight back into eating tons of food and then immediately trying to panic run it off, but that feels like death on wheels: End result - Very upset. Luckily I have a teacher who is very transparent about this stuff and she was incredibly helpful. Talking to her was the most honest I had ever been, and hearing that this is a legitimate issue that lots of people deal with made me feel oddly more comfortable with the whole thing. There were a couple rough weeks, but I eventually calmed down and refocused.

I'm not claiming this to be the final solution. If I've learned anything this year, it's that I personally cannot find some simple solution and be totally confident and healthy all the time. Even currently, I'm a weird eater. I still really like to measure things. On holidays that are centered around food I feel less anxious if I run in the morning. As some of it is that I like how I feel when I can eat a big meal after running, but I know that some of the motivation is coming from knowing how much I'll be eating later that day. And for now, I'm ok with that. This is progress, and I feel better thinking about an achieved goal of the process rather an a permanent victory.

So yeah. Thanks for reading my extensive self reflection. If you feel so inclined, post stuff in the comments. Or ambush me in real life, because I am pretty aware that like 99.8% of you are from facebook and I'm always down to chat about food and stuff.

Hm. Enjoy the warm weather for the foreseeable future. I mean, I wouldn't put it past Chicago to drop to a 32 degrees mid June, but as far as weather.com can alert me, we are in the clear.

Kait

On The Eve of The English Paper

Literally this is my night.

Kait (to myself, just to be clear): Ok girl, you need to write your English paper. Like right now. Shit's due tomorrow.

Ok, lets get some tunes happening *Kate Nash pandora*

KILLING IT WOMAN KILLING IT. Literally I love with all 5 stars ALL OF THESE SONGS

*In my excitement, 1/2 an hour goes by

"Ok dude. Let's refocus."

....after i check facebook.

...and read 3 buzzfeed articles of Valentines

God I'm so single. I mean perpetually... I'm going to message my single friends to eat baked goods and get boozy together

Ok well that's done. I feel better about my life.

Except that I still haven't written my paper.

Ok. Here we go. Got a paragraph done. Boom. THIS SONG. TEGAN AND SARA ACTUALLY COME UP ON THIS STATION MY LIFE IS SO HAPPY. I want to go to karaoke

*another half hour mysteriously passes

So clearly I cannot focus with majestic lady singers in the airwaves. I just need to close out of that tab

*Cue Regina's "Sampson."

*Weeping*

ugh.

Let's post a facebook status about how I'm procrastinating.

Better yet, BLOG cause it kills more time.

And that's where I'm at.

I am Graduating College

And I am super ready to go. Also super terrified, but mostly feeling like my formal education expiration date has passed. Honestly, it's not because I'm sick of going to class or doing homework or seeing my friends every day. I really like all of those things and I fully intend on continuing to read psychology textbooks for fun. I mean, the DSM updates every 10 years or so. I'm set for life.

Funny related story before this goes into vulnerable future thoughts. I've always had this weird drive to be totally self sufficient. (*Disclaimer: I'm definitely not advocating that I have the responsibility or organization necessary for any of this, my procrastination and naivete is proof enough for that) I remember thinking how cool it would be to be like a robot that could just dig inside myself and do everything needed to sustain life without help. In retrospect, this explains a lot about my perpetual state of introverted. Huh.

Funny story though! At some point between the formation of my earliest memories and my 4th birthday, I decided that I would take control of when I ate and drank. I was only toddling that that point, so getting my own food wasn't exactly an option. But I worked with what I had and decided that I would drink half my bottle of milk, and then hide it from my parents so I could go back and finish it on my own schedule. Being like 2.3 feet tall, my options were limited. So I chose to hide my milk behind the toilet in our first floor bathroom. This went on for several weeks before my mom caught be drinking curdled milk behind the toilet. Nothing says "your child might develop a control related anxiety disorder in their mid teens" quite like catching your 3 year old daughter drinking curdled toilet milk.

That was a lot of personal right there. And there's more coming, so brace yourself.

Since my toddlerhood, I have developed more practical ways of demonstrating some form of independence, but I can't shake the feeling that at 22 I'm still not doing enough. In some societies people are functioning as adults at 16. Plenty of high school graduates start contributing full time at 18. I attribute my sense of guilt to Loyola's Jesuit trickery. I spent 4 years here recognizing how extraordinarily privileged I am and how much I need to help the world, and now I have to sit in classes waiting to have enough time to do it! This whole "set the world on fire" business is starting to make sense. Metaphorically, I'm not plotting arson. Spending some 25 hours a week sitting in a classroom is making me feel like I'm just treading water. Not to mention the 4ish hours every night I'm doing homework. I'm so sick of giving employers my useless availability. I'm supporting myself on a work study job (one that I actually really love and has given me skills and connections that will help me so much after college), but I feel like I owe society so much more than I'm actually putting into it. I am incredibly grateful for the education I've been lucky enough to receive, but when I look at campaigns like Girl Rising and Teach For America I feel guilty about being 22 and still spending the majority of my time sitting in a classroom.

Then there's theatre. I've pretty much signed my soul to Dionysus, with no regrets. I believe that theatre and the arts have a communal nature that, makes us think about other people's perspectives, is an incredibly cathartic emotional outlet, and can really make a positive change in the world. Problem being, "Art" rarely reaches the people who need it most. On a broad strokes level, art only reaches those who are wealthy enough to afford it and members of the community itself. Not that I don't love a good dose of "for artists by artists" industry nights, nor do I discredit their importance to the artistic community as a whole, but it scares me that I'm spending so much money on an education to go into a field that primarily entertains upper or upper middle class affluent cultural white folks. The lack of diversity that I observe among audience members of some really great theatre leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Save for the price of tickets, so much of it ties back to arts education. Every time my district ran out of money, they cut arts funding. Not bashing sports or other extra curriculars, but can we as a society please stop taking the arts away from people who really need them? The arts have made such a difference in my life and I want to expose everyone to that same positive experience.

That was an unexpected passionate little bunny trail. And I think that's pretty much the end of what I want to say about this.

Take home point: I probably don't have my shit together enough to actually be an adult but I'm past ready to try.

Thoughts? I can't be the only senior chomping at the bit to be done right?

I'm digging this pattern of "uncomfortably real blog" followed by "funny asshole stories from my life." So if this wasn't your cup of tea, the next one might be. Hopefully you at least enjoyed the self deprecating toilet milk story. Because in a narcissistic way, I think its hysterical.

Wooooof, as you were. Personally, I am going to edit and English paper and continue reading (literally) my entire developmental psychology book.

Kaitlyn

Fake it Till ya Make it.

I've allotted myself a 20 minute break from my Ethics paper to tell you a funny story. LEGGO.

So I sing in the choir at church sometimes. Last Sunday, I was doing that and at 5 minutes till the beginning of mass the cantor still hadn't showed up. So I was all like, "I've cantored before, I can totes fill in till she shows up."

So the choir director handed me an ipad (mistake #1) with that mass's music on it and I headed to the alter. As the lights were coming up to begin mass, the choir director messaged me on the iPad instructions for the psalm if I ended up getting that far. I figured I'd shoot him a quick reply to let him know I saw the message. However, when I clicked to reply to his message, it closed me out of the mass setting.

So like any proper 80 year old woman does, I panicked and hit every button. The priest was in the sacristy waving at me to start the mass and I just kept pointing at the tablet making a hopeless face. I finally got the thing to work, jumped up to the pulpit, read the invitation to mass, and began the opening song.

This is where it gets rough.

I made it through the refrain alright, but when I looked at the verses, I realized that they were written in this weird format that I couldn't quite follow.

So I made up the words.

Basically I took chunks from each random verse and sang them out of order with no regard to sentence structure or musical line.

It sounded something like this:
"In the valley of my soul Lord / forever and ever amen / to my heart"

or

"Jesus lead the people Israel to the / forever hallelujah sing his / sheep's and shepherds in my heart"

Steve would hold a chord when I had reached the end of a line, so there were these awkward gaps in singing. Then Steve would give up trying to figure out what I was doing and I took the opportunity to riff out a longer sequence of non sequitor verse chunks.

At one point I looked out and saw this group of students trying to follow what I was singing in the hymnals.

Mostly I acted like nothing was wrong and just continued to make up stuff until the song was over. At that point the cantor had arrived, so I chucked her the pad and headed back to the choir loft.

I had a blast. Looking forward to hijacking another formalized singing situation in the future.

As you were.

Peace out.

I Graduate In 3 Months.

*Vomits everywhere*

Hey there geckos. (I think I'm just going to start using animals as gender neutral crowd addresses. Like "hey cats" or "what up dog." It'll eventually appear normal.)

So it's been a while. I've been getting back to school, settling in to my last semester of college, and trying to figure out what I'm going to do when I'm out in May. If I'm being perfectly honest (which I am because this is the internet and everything is unquestionably true) today is the first day since December that I didn't have a quarter life crisis over graduating college.

I know that every newly minted "adult" goes through this, whether its graduating high school or college or whatever form of education you manage to keep yourself in past your mid teen years. Last semester I was checked out and ready to go, but now that I'm actually getting close, I've lost all drive to do adult things and have regressed to this directionless little life form that after 3 minutes of googling job apps ends up on facebook (seemingly by default) out of fear of not having my ducks in a row.

That's over dramatic, I know. But you have to understand, I was the kid who panicked when my mom moved the green recliner (that I never sat in) to a different corner of the room. Literally "world crashing down around me" type reaction to the unexpected rearrangement of furniture. This is probably comparable to moving thousands of chairs (all different colors) all over my small three bedroom apartment.

Also I'm going into theatre. So my job is basically to emote.

BUT TODAY was a five star day and I started to figure my shit out. And I think that's worth sharing.

So I'm taking a too good for words class about feminist (read: oppressed/minorities) critique of theatre. It is glorious. Consistently the best 2 hours of my Tuesday/Thursdays. Never did I think my passion for feminist discourse and theatre would collide, but they have and I am loving every minute of it. I could seriously go for days about this class, I'm realizing more about who I am as a person and what I can contribute to theatre, and learning about all these kick ass humans making kick ass theatre that is so powerful and new and breaks down all the barriers that I have questioned my entire life and this sentence is already too long so I'm just going to cut myself off here.

There are internships available in Chicago and elsewhere that involve dramaturgical type research for queer and feminist theatre companies. I want to do that.

Also, I'm really getting into Shakespeare. I still think its the hardest stuff I've ever read, and I still need so much practice, but I'm welcoming the challenge rather than sparknoting the plays and accepting sub-par acting. Which I've totally never done, ever. Also lots of people produce shakespeare. Sometimes with all ladies. Shakespeare + gender bending = Yes.

Also, I'm taking this class about women in literature. While I have lots to say about how the class is taught, I'm so into the styles of novels we're reading Its this first person, episodic, semi autobiographical fiction. I could write that stuff. So I'm going to write that stuff.

Also, today I went to a dialogue about queer folks in religion. Again, totally my jam. I would love to work with some organizations that help the LGBT community. Any marginalized community actually, but currently I'm most involved with this one.

So this is nice. For a while there I was afraid I had lost interest in literally all things. But there are three "also's" up there, so I guess I'm not doing so bad.

I just need to breathe. I tend to schedule myself within an inch of needing to warp time. While down time generally makes me anxious, I think its a good thing right now. I want to try a lot of new things. And that takes some time. So I'm taking advantage of my good mood to update my blog and assure you that I haven't fallen off the face of the planet.

I hope this wasn't the stereotypical "recent grad freak out" blog. I tried to avoid cliches. But I'm also living some cliches right now, so its tough to avoid. If ya didn't like it, I mean, I like to think I keep this thing pretty varied. And I have some good ideas for future posts that are a little less self centered. So that's fun!

Enjoy this balmy 20 degree weather we're having and I'll probably be writing again soon,

Kait

Ringing in the New Year (Part II)

Friends, Romans, Countrymen:

So this never got posted yesterday. In part due to the whole bed bug situation, but I'm not going to lie, most of the blame goes to the fermentation process of yeast and sugar. Certainly not in regards to my choices with said substances. But really, who limps through the entire next day. I left my tolerance in 2012. Anyway. 

New Years Resolutions 2014

1. Keep up with paperwork. 

I'm the worst person when it comes to getting my stuff in on time. Be it homework, job applications, the occasional bill, I procrastinate like its my job. And I enter "the real world" in a few months, so this is probably a good time to start being responsible. 

2. Stop apologizing. 

The other day I walked into a chair and apologized to it. I really don't like conflict so I'm generally the first person to give up my position in an argument to make everyone else happy. Chronic doormat. Which leads to me being grumpy and passive aggressive. I'll just start being normal aggressive. I had a sibling, I'm well versed in "conflict resolution. 

3. Finish my sentences.

I have this tendency to start talking, quickly transition to rambling, and then just trail off the end of a thought because I'm sure no one is listening. Generally people are listening. But if I expect them to stop listening, they do. This sounds so sulky, I don't want this to sound sulky. I'm not sulking! I'm the opposite of sulking. I'm GOAL SETTING. That's mighty progressive I dare say. Mighty progressive. 

4. Fully Commit. 

I'm much more comfortable tip toeing, but I need people to know that I have more chutzpah than that.  

5. Stop walking pigeon toed

Cause my feet turn out naturally. And when I do it, it doesn't quite have that feminine effect that it does with models in shoe ads. But it does make me look like I have to take a dump. You know what I'm saying? You know what I'm saying. 

2-5 are all kindof hitting the same thing from different angles. Onward. 

6. Stop buzzing all your hair off. 

I don't know why this is even on here. I'm admitting defeat a year in advance. 

I think that's it actually. I'm going with an achievable set of goals. And there they are. 

Happy New Year!

Kaitlyn 

Ringing in the New Year. (Part 1)

Happy New Years Eve Everyone!

This morning I crawled out of bed after a wonderfully sound sleep following our 12 hour car trek from Atlanta to Cleveland. As I snuggled into my warm sheets and checked the time, I little brown dot caught my eye. And there it was. A bed bug. And one of his (hopefully few) friends.

AND SO ENDS 2013.

But really.

How does this happen to one person, two times, IN TWO DIFFERENT STATES NO LESS, 3 months apart?

So my New Years Eve Day will be spent with my mom and a laundromat. *bells, whistles.*

I'm ringing in the new year with a distinct sense that I am actually breeding bedbugs in my body somewhere and the worst buzz cut imaginable for my face shape. From a "first word problems" perspective, this is looking pretty bleak. But luckily for me, the bugs are only from our suitcases (damn you hotel) and I look bomb ass hot in beanies. I refuse to take this as any indication of how the following year will progress.

In an effort to make 2014 as bug free and stylish as possible, I've made some New Years resolutions that I'd like to share with you. But because it's only the 31st, you'll have to wait for tomorrow for those. Today, I will check in with my 2012 self's resolutions to see what marvelous progress I have made. Here we go.

1. Be able to do at least 1 pull up. 
Nope. Let's not talk about it.

2. Actually vomit from drinking. 
What was I thinking? I think its an achievement that this never happened...save for that one night with Pearl... you know what, let's not talk about this one either.

3. Volunteer. 
Pass. Clearly I've made great strides this year.

4. Food. 
SUCCESS! Its a work in progress, but I haven't weighed myself since Easter 2013 and I've only had like 3 meltdowns over cookies! And I'm not dieting. At all. Ahhh gold stars and self congratulatory praises!

5. Speak Up. 
This year I realized that conversations are a 2 way street. I think it made a difference. 
6. Do Work. 
I did a clean quadruple pirouette at Hot Mikado auditions. It will never happen again. My work here is done.

6.5 Do not beat yourself up because you are not the most slender, graceful, powerful, flexible, stunning dancer in the world. Work with what you've got. Boom. 
Yep. Backfired in me telling my ballet teacher that I don't like ballet. So I'm trying to resolve that. Doing well on that front though.

7. Work as a Barista at some point. 
Nope. Though I did apply for several barista positions they value promptness and experience over my CPR and CPI certifications.

8. Write a play.
Aint nobody got time for that. 

9. Date. 
Yep. I now have more super cool gay friends and a separate collection of horror stories. I'm going to prematurely deem this successful. And ongoing. So hit me up.

10. Follow my gut. 
I described this as "being less type A." And if that's the case, its a mixed bag. But overall, not too shabby.



So there ya go. My accomplishments and failures splayed out for the internet. 

I gotta go do all my laundry. Literally. All my laundry. 

Kaitlyn.