inspiration

Nothing I could say would introduce this woman properly...
her words inspire me
her name is Suheir Hammad

Hear her speak:
http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/suheir_hammad_poems_of_war_peace_women_power.html

some days...

I waste my minutes sometimes
on anger and sadness
on old hurts and things of no consequence
on other peoples imperfections

I make pets of petty offenses
that irritate my sense of justice.
I stroke their coats until they shine.
I feed them premium pet food.
I buy them cute sweaters and play toys.

My microscope gets a lot of use.
Any fault in character or deed
fills my lens to extreme proportions
but becomes unidentifiable when compared with the original object.

I use my focus to distort
I look closely at only the parts that justify my feelings and opinions
I see only what I want to see

My world shrinks infinitely
when I allow my attention
to be trained on
the empty glass.

some days
I see
that all my bad
would be better than someone else's good

some days
I see
and some days I don't

body image

I started doing a workout program called "Insanity". It's not as bad as the one called "P90X" by the same company. With this one I can actually get through all 30 or 40 minutes of it instead of stopping midway through because my body is shaking uncontrollably.

I've done it for a week and a half now. I skipped yesterday because my back felt like somebody sliced my muscles into strips, tied them in knots, and then placed them back into their original places. We'll see how things go today. Even though I'm sore, I feel stronger and that feels good.

I catch myself wanting to look like the women in my Women's Health magazine. Then I think, "To look like that, she probably has to work out five hours a day and never eat anything. She's a model, her job is to make her body look perfect." I don't want that to be my job.

I don't want to be some turtle who spends her whole life painting her shell. Or a tiger that spends hours dyeing, trimming, and styling her striped coat. Or a fish who endlessly shines her scales. That sounds stupid.

I have convinced myself that I work-out to feel and be strong, but sometimes I wonder... Is that the real reason?

When I was in high school, I tried a bunch of diets. I tried eating puffed rice cereal and nothing else for two weeks (which made me as lethargic as a sloth). I tried the Atkins, low carb, eat-as-much-meat-cheese-and-high-cholesterol-foods-as-you-want diet. I tried not eating any sugar. I tried not eating any fat. It wasn't until I: went to college, escaped all the junk food at home, started playing intramural sports, and became active that a healthy change occurred in my body.

A month ago my friend Kacey (who is also a Hall Director) was talking about all the college women she sees who have bad self esteem, all the women who truly believe terrible things about themselves. She told me she's asked a few of them, "Who convinced you that you're not beautiful or strong or capable?" I wonder that myself.

no pressure, right?

I really love writing.

I like the rhythm.

The typing,

the thinking,

the backspacing and typing some more.

The formatting and the way the words roll around in my head and come out straight,

like beads on a string,

when I pour them into my keyboard.

Sometimes I stop and I can't decide which bead comes next in the pattern.

I like things to be perfect.

Perfection creates a lot of pressure!

I have decided to start stringing again, perfect or not, and we'll see how it goes.