What does a hernia feel like? Probably hurts real bad...

I feel compelled to post, and yet I feel a sneaking suspicion that said post very well may contain nothing but fail.

Ha...

Do you feel any less compelled to read now?

Hope not.

I like it when you read me.

So I awoke today with the loveliest of intentions. Veggie-colored intentions.

Mostly green, you know, like broccoli florets and sugar-snap peas, but also shades of white like water chestnuts and cauliflower; orange of carrots and yellow of squash. Beautiful nearly negative calories.

Can you sense where this is going? I'm gonna go ahead and guess you can.

500 calories of Cheerios, gluten-free breakfast bar, almond milk (deliciously low cal wonderfulness, that is!) and glutentastic oatmeal LATER, here I sit, promising myself to stick to veggies for the rest of the day.

^^^
I wrote all of that like thirty minutes ago.

My blogging keeps getting interrupted by random things. K is at some gaming thing (or at least on his way) and he just called saying he can't find the place. Googled it for him. Hope he doesn't get lost.

B just told me she needed to go potty. Two seconds too late. Then informed me that she wanted to change her clothes because they were all "wet and cold but she didn't know why." Come on, kid. You're smart. Put two and two together, here.

So we took care of that.

The television is on too loud and my stomach feels empty but I'm angry at myself for eating and so I feel like I should punish myself by starving. I'm a big mixed up ball of thoughts and emotions but I don't feel all that upset at all, almost as if I'm ... blurry. Like everything I'm feeling is all splattered out on a canvas for me to see, but then carefully covered with a sheer sheet of the finest transparent tracing paper, tissue-thin. I'm not completely affected by it. It's fine. I'm okay.

Could be worse, I guess, is what I'm saying. I could be a hell of a lot more stressed by current circumstances than I am right now, and the fact that I'm not is a good thing. My essay still isn't written and the novel I'm to read by Monday morning isn't read and my chemistry exam will come at 11 that same morning whether I've studied for it by then or not.

And I'm hungry. I should be. I deserve to be hungry. I just want to be thin.

136.4.

I need to NOT weigh unless I've taken the laxies the night prior. I'm pretty sure I've said that before. I never listen to myself.

I want to take more Topamax than I am now. I think I might. 50 mg a day isn't working. I need to talk to my doctor about it first, though. That's what responsible patients do, right? They don't just go about adjusting their own dosages as they please to suit their own whims, fucking with their brain chemistry whenever they feel like it because they figure they know better than their advanced medical degree carrying doctors...right?

Right...

But...

Hm.

Tofu.

Can I pretend it's a vegetable?

SURE, I can pretend. I'm fantabulous at pretending. I'm the proud owner of a three-year-old, after all. I have the most incredible imagination, and I love it to bits. But this ability to pretend is often the most dangerous of my diet saboteurs; it should be regarded with extreme caution. Tofu...is...soy. But...I'm going to go ahead and leave it out of the vegetable diet for today. 90 calories. Yeah.

Oh, and here's something for you. I elected to leave the gluten intolerance test out of my labs when my doctor took my blood because I honestly can't afford the $262 bill for it. I'd rather just eliminate gluten from my diet for a few weeks and see how I feel, you know? But what gets me is what I got back from the student health clinic yesterday. Apparently, my cholesterol is high. Yeah. 211. Shouldn't be any higher than 200, at the highest. I'm supposing ideal would be something under 100, then? I don't know for sure because I've never even considered it as a potential issue for me. My diet is so low in fatty food that it's been probably the least of my dietary concerns for as long as I can remember. 211. Wow. Makes me wonder what it would look like if I DIDN'T exercise 4 to 5 times a week, or if I actually DID eat like the majority of Americans out there, friedgreasyfattygrossness and all. Damn.

Anyway, I don't think there's much to worry about there, I'm healthy otherwise. And there's not a whole lot more I can do to improve my cholesterol as far as diet is concerned...ha...eat even LESS fat? I mean, granted, when I binge, I suppose I do occasionally include a few Starbucks cinnamon rolls here and there, shit like that... Peanut butter. Olive oil. But those are supposed to be okay...whatever. I'm not going to fret about it.

I just took a picture because I wanted to show you the slight sunburnage I recently acquired over my first two days of fake-n-bake tanning (I know!! I know I shouldn't. I caved. Tan fat looks so much leaner than pale fat...) but the pinkness of my skin didn't really turn out in the pic. What somehow DID manage to turn out in the picture is a tiny shadow of definition where my hips are trying to peek out...So I thought I'd share. *sigh..* Now if I could just go back and undo the SECOND bowl of cereal I just had...

(you like the knock-off Dollar Store Tinkerbell doll on the floor next to the bathtub that made her way into that shot? :P)

Argh...P...D...
STOP BEING SO AVERAGE!!!

That's the voice I have today. It's been saying that for the past few days. Every time I walk past any remotely reflective surface, I see her. The average girl. Not too fat, but definitely not thin...just.. meh. Plain. Average. Chubby here and there... she's got some okay spots, I guess, but mostly, overall, nothing at all remarkable to make her stand out from the rest of EVERYBODY ELSE.

I'm going to go now before I start off on yet another tangent (I've got 'em stockpiled for miles, lemme assure you).. ;)

Gotta put the little one down for her nap anyway. Then on to the essay writing! Let's hope my muse is feeling generous with her presence this afternoon...
<3

PS - Crapfactory, I just got through an entire post (amidst ridiculous distraction and in inordinate amount of stress caused by one very demanding and LOUD little girl...this post took me like three hours...JEEBUS!) and now I am just realizing that I'll need to create an entirely different post dedicated specifically to the sunshine award thing... Passing the love along is definitely worth more of my time and attention than I have had this whole morning. Will have to post again soon! :D

About time for some negativity, don't you think?

Okay, so no one wants to hear me whine, I know this.

I'll keep it short.

I should be writing a 1,500 word essay for my Children's Literature class anyway. Thing is...

I feel fat today.

Big fucking surprise, right? Don't we all? I mean, honestly, Captain of the Blatantly Muthafuckin' OBVIOUS, what in the goddess's good name is new?

Fat.

Huge.

Probably because the scale is up from yesterday. Probably because I'm bloated (gluteny gassy nonsense). Probably because we're working on self-portraits for our finals in art and today (of all days, when I'm not wearing makeup and I'm looking like a landwhale) we got to take pictures of each other to draw later.

AWESOME.

GAHD.

Fortunately, the finished product will be a shoulders-up shot.

*sigh*

Here're a few of the pics they took:



That one came out all right. Guess I'll probably use it. The others showed far too much of my arms and my stomach...and the *shudder* extra EVERYTHING that accompanies each of them.

I'm sorry. Whineage is never fun, is it? Not fun for anyone.
Yep, it rhymes. I'm a poet and I didn't even realize it.

Actually, I did.

Ummm...I bought myself some chocolates. Fail. Right? I thought it'd be damage control. Is that rationalization? Perhaps. They're 44 calories each, 78% dark cacao. They're tiny squares, all wrapped individually, so you can have one a day.

This will be a challenge.

You know what else will be a challenge?

Getting myself through the rest of this day.

Love you, lovelies.
<3

Schmexy dreamland dreams...About HERSELF?!

First, I wanted to thank you all so very much for the amazing comments on my sappy-lovey-dovey-woe-is-me-cuz-my-heart-can't-figure-itself-the-fuck-out post. Really? You honor me TOO much. :D When I wrote that thing, my thoughts felt so scattered. In rereading it, I know I could write with much more feeling, much better grammar, and explain myself in more explicit language, were I given more time to think and listen to myself. To be honest, it felt like the words were all wrong, like my ideas escaped just before I was able to put them into sentences, so instead I just word-vomited all that I was thinking through my fingers into my computer (ew, sounds messy, huh?) Ugh, and I even misspelled "compliment." I mean, yes, that's correct, but in the way I used it in that post, it should have been "complement." I am so friggin' anal about spelling errors (only in my own work) it's insane.

Anyway. Thank you. It was incredibly comforting to read that you all understood what I was feeling, or could at least relate to it in some way. If not yet, I'm sure one day you will. Zen, I find it so ridiculously difficult to believe that you've never been in love. You're so wonderful! It will find you. :) Just be sure not to beat it off with a stick when it shows up, yeah? ;) <3 you.

I had the most wonderful dream the other night. AMAZING. In the dream, I woke up from a deep sleep and pulled back my comforter, feeling a little warm. I looked down at my legs and ...holyfuckshit...There'sthinspoinmybed...My legs looked INCREDIBLE. They were...like...My thighs weren't even touching as I was LAYING DOWN. I'm pretty sure my jaw dropped to my own mattress right there in my dream. I jumped out of bed and hopped in front of the mirror. My friend. My enemy. The soothsayer, and the deception artist. MY mirror. In MY room. With my lilac colored walls and scattered pictures of B and K and too much laundry for one overloaded full-time EVERYTHING woman to EVER clean...There was my reflection. And I was Perfect.

My lovelies...I can't even describe to you how beautiful that woman was, in that mirror. I stared. For a good solid five minutes, I allowed my eyes to trace every curve and line and angular shape as it connected bone to bone to shimmering, gleaming bone. Skin, taut, was smooth, and radiant. The eerie blue of B's nightlight cast glittering shadows that danced playfully between the dips and ridges of ribs that pretended to be mountains, falling fast and hard to their final swooping descent into a valley of almost-nothingness between my hips. GOD, my hips. They were angelic. Like nothing I'd ever seen. I remember feeling sheepish at this point, shy, as if I were a hidden voyeur at some secret, seedy peepshow in a rundown motel, discovering this beauty, this fairy, a diamond in the rough. It wasn't me, it couldn't be me...The thighs, long and lean and soft and hard all at the same time...The sight I beheld in that mirror took my breath away, made me laugh, even, in sheer glee, and sent shots of adrenaline through my stomach and chest with enough force to leave my heart still beating hard as I awoke...

Yes, I woke up. But it wasn't one of those, "Aw, shit, it was just a dream! That blows." No, it was more like, "God, that was incredible!" and then it makes the rest of your day feel lovely-type things. Yes. Thought I'd share.

Back to real life.
So the scale is creeping up again.

I'm not sure if this is due to the fact that Topa is notorious for influencing back-up issues of the gastrointestinal variety (read: if you eat anything heavy, it very well could stay with you all week/month/til your next child is born) or if it's because my body is balancing out and already becoming accustomed to the 50 mg dosage. If this is the case, of course, my first inclination is to take more. Problem is, the good doctor JUST okayed 50 *yesterday*... Yeah. If you recall, he initially prescribed 25, and I kinda-sorta-pretty much decided I was going to up myself to 50 allbymylonesome because I'm impatient and I like results NOW gahdanggit.

Well, I saw results.

Now I'm watching them slowly halt...and reverse...

My diet has been consistent, and my exercise has been good. Cardio hasn't been daily, but at least 4 to 5 times out of the week (which is apparently all that normal people do? I dunno...something I read...not to say that's okay, just statin'...).

Ah, I'm so tempted to kick it up 75 mg. You know? Just one more increment of 25. But these tiny pills are MIGHTY. NOT to be fucked with. And I don't want to underestimate their power. Yesterday, I drank approximately 120 ounces of water (over 3.5 litres) and found myself STILL thirsty by evening. This stuff really takes it outta you. But you know, I don't mind. As long as I'm sure to have water with me all the time, it's totally cool. Heh, and as I slipped into bed last night K couldn't help but notice, too: "Hey, your skin is...like, really soft. Did you start using some new lotion or something?" I haven't, but I'd noticed the change as well. I can only assume it's all that extra hydration. Kickass.

*sigh...* The question remains. Sure does. Don't pretend that it doesn't. Do I take more? More than I'm allowed? Shit. I don't know. I'll probably wait...maybe.

136.6ish. .8ish. Can't really figure out which. Obviously, we'd all like to go with the lower of anything, but we don't like to lie to ourselves, now do we?

Ha!! What a question!

I'm not going to answer that.

I should go. I have a consultation today to see if I should get tested for gluten intolerance. I've suspected this for quite some time, but it's only now that I've decided to go ahead and have a doctor look into it. I know it's nothing serious, whatever it is, but meh...couldn't hurt to use the University's discount health system while I have it at my disposal, right?

Oh, and guess what?

I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

<3

Holy crap, did I lose a follower?

...Or am I imagining things? :( Awww... That's sad...

Anyway. I guess I can't make everyone happy.

Besides, it's YOU guys that are the REALLY cool ones, right? :D

RIGHT!
So you wanna hear something awesome?

135.8. Yes, that's after the effects of the laxies this morning, but still. I'll take it.

Right in the middle of a rather rambly email to Zen earlier, I found myself doing a little math (this doesn't happen often, as Math and I have a long, sordid past and we rather DESPISE one another) and came to find that 135.8 means I've lost a little less than five lbs in five days. That...makes me happy. I guess I really do get so caught up in my sheer impatience, my desire to see the 120s NOW NOW NOW that I'm failing to relish these victories, these small (and yet great) wins. This is good.

Dang it! I'm going to need to escape to write what I want to write...I'm sitting in my uncle's office, trying to prepare myself mentally to tell you all about the K thing. With my uncle walking about the house, I can never tell when he'll just walk in here and behind me... *annoyed errrgh sound*

Maybe it's not such a big deal about K. It's just that I'm a HUGE romantic. I love LOVE. SO much. I need happily ever after. It's my ultimate goal in life. I need to find my soulmate, fall madly and deeply and fully devote myself, get married and have a house and a garden and children and our careers that compliment our wonderful life together and we'll travel the world when our little ones are no longer little and life will just be...lovely. Filled with happiness because we have each other. Obviously this is very flowery and idyllic and far too perfect to be real, but you get what I'm saying. In my mind, finding my true love = true happiness. Over money, over possessions, over thin.

Yes.

I said it.

Granted, having both would be ideal. And I shall have BOTH.
But given the ultimatum between the two, my choice would be HIM. The one to whom I could give all of myself, and expect and accept as much in return. I'm such a sap.

ANYway. So when I was 14, I fell in love for the first time. Early, huh? Yeah, but I know it was love. Because it's still there, for the same man. He's now 25, and I'm 23, and it's never gone away. I still talk to him on occasion, and though we were only together for a few years, I was always certain that he was the one I'd marry, eventually. Like life was just having its way with us until we'd be free again, to find our ways back...to US. Because WE were...Good. What we had was more than good. What we had was amazing. What we had was enough to keep giving me liquid butterflies and weak knees even now, more than a decade later, hundreds of miles between us, through mere reminiscence. This worries me.

I have no place, no ground to stand on, no room to be jealous of the fact that he now writes beautiful poetry for someone else, and no longer for me. That he plays his guitar and sings love songs to another girl...and fuck, my heart aches in my chest because I know NOTHING of her and yet I fucking KNOW with all of myself that she has no CLUE what she holds in her arms! He is SO incredible, so strong and passionate and beautiful, and tender and mild inside, and sweet, and afraid sometimes, and he needs to be cradled and reminded that it's okay to cry (even though the world doesn't want him to) and then he will, just a little, and then he'll love you even more for letting his tears wet your hair...His lips...they used to be mine! God damn it, I can't stand to think of how all of him used to be mine...The passion that I feel right now for this man is only nearly eclipsed by the immense guilt in knowing I shouldn't feel it at all! For fuck's sake...

A year and nine months. That is how long I have loved K. Not that long, and yet I feel like I've already pledged my life to him. Why? We've not even spoken seriously of marriage. Why do I feel that an investment of time and emotion such as this automatically implies a lifelong commitment? I truly cannot bear the thought of abandoning him, nor do I wish to do anything of the sort. I do love him, and dearly. I do...My eyes sting with fresh tears just imagining a life...even a single day...without him.

My old flame...Perhaps that is what he should remain. They say that you'll always have that one, the one that got away, the first love. You'll always have feelings for them, but that's where it stays.

I just...I don't know why I can't forget him.

*sigh...*

I must go, my lovelies. Thank you for listening to this, my little oddity of a love post. Stay beautiful!
<3

P.D!! Where the motherFRICK have you BEEN?!

That's certainly what I'd be wondering if I were you.

Well, here I am. It feels like I've been absent forever, but I know I haven't been. I think part of that is due to the fact that I've been really quite HORRIBLE at reading my favorite blogs in the universe (yours) and so therefore I feel completely and utterly detached from all that is important in this world...Yes. That surely must be it. I am missing out on so much; your lives are just living themselves out, passing me by, day by day, and I have no earthly CLUE what is going ON with you lovelies! It really does have this odd time-warping sort of effect on me...Perhaps I'm a big lame-o. Perhaps.

So I fear I'll have to give the shortest version possible of all that I have to say, just because little B is standing here singing random cutesy kiddie songs I've never heard and eating as much Easter candy as she pleases, making it very difficult for me to hear myself think. That, and it's nearing her bedtime and we have brand new library books tonight!!! Yay! I love library night. We usually keep the same books for about a week or so, just so that she can get a good grasp for the words and vocab and all that, but I always love the first night the best. Nothing like fresh books, children's lit or otherwise. ;)

I just took video of B doin' her do. I think I'll post it for your enjoyment.



I don't know what she's saying in the kitty one. It's something like, "My kitty is a scratcher, a scratcher, she always goes like this: Yum Yum! somethin' somethin'..." :P

The other one is "A tooty-tah" which is some ridiculously cute little dance song she learned at daycare. Arms out, elbows back, feet apart, knees together, bottoms up, tongue out, eyes shut, turn around..." Good shit, that is.

ANYway...Camping was good. Well...scratch that. Camping was okay, I guess. I got horrible sleep it rained early Sunday morning, so we got that nice, nastyhothumid weather trekking back to the parking spot. Upside was that our total hike (much of which was steep and rugged uphill rockclimbing type hiking) was about 8 miles...woohoo! And with my super awesome technique of eating very little (huh? huh? you like that?) added to the strenuous working out of my entire body as I scaled multiple mountains and caverns and whatnot, I am happy say that I weighed in at 136.0 this morning. I was 139 on Saturday, no? I've gotten pretty bad about my record keeping. I war with myself; still trying to maintain my disordered side to a certain extent because I'm not ready to part with it...just not ready to let it go...and yet making small adjustments here and there to try and make me feel less neurotic overall. I ...have no idea if that makes any sense. Having a three-year-old singing (as you can imagine from the video above) right next to you while you attempt to blog coherently is incredibly ...impossible.

Argh...I have this whole long post in my head that I'll have to save for tomorrow. I'm afraid of the subject matter, to be honest. It has very little, if anything, to do with my ED. It has everything to do with my life and my future. Love. K. And my past. Love. Relationships. If that kind of talk bores you to tears, you have been forewarned. But if you tend to totally dig that soap-opera/reality TV type drama, then please, do tune in. I'll probably be needing your input.

Oh, and I didn't mention...I ate today...far too much. I consumed ice cream again, and candy, and I think it's because I saw that 136 and it felt good and that dreaded "you deserve a reward" thought entered my head. In my mind, the ultimate rewards still = food. This must change.

I took my second little pill for the day a little earlier in the evening, hoping to perhaps alleviate some of the night sweats and bad dreams I've been experiencing as of late. My resting heartrate (usually at a relatively low 46 BPM or so) is now hovering at 88. My temperature is a constant 98.7 (normal for anyone else, but my normal temp is 97.6). I feel normal, other than the persistent aura of heat radiating from within me, and the occasional heartburn that wells up all out of nowhere, reminding me that my stomach is empty and full of nasty acid. Right now...well, all I can think of is food, and yet I know to eat would surely mean to make myself nauseous. I shall not do it. Instead, I will post this, hope that you lovelies are well, and lament the fact that I am not able to hide away with my laptop for hours and catch up on your lives, your happenings, your thoughts, your pains and pleasures, tragedies and triumphs...Alas, it is bedtime for my angel.

Until we meet again, my pretties...
<3

EDIT:I...just...inexplicably...ate a banana. A ginormous banana.

I don't get it. Because I wasn't hungry and now my stomach hurts and I will weigh that much more tomorrow and that little bit more WILL matter...because it always matters. A little.

But only a little, right?

*sigh* Methinks a lax or three will help me feel ALL better. Love you.

ANNND...Chocolate tastes like vomit. We are officially in Hell.

...or is that Heaven?

That's a tough question to answer.

So I'm not completely removed from civilization just yet (obvy) but I will be shortly (it's 8:01 in the AM and K wants to leave by 9...we shall see if THAT goes down as planned!) and I just couldn't keep my tappity little fingahs away from teh Bloggah!

Why, yes! I AM addicted AND crazy. You win a prize.

No, not a cookie.

Why?

Because cookies make you fat and they taste like dog shit.

The kind of dog shit you used to find on the playground as a kid, all parched and white and powdery; the kind that made you wonder wtmf even though you OBVIOUSLY wouldn't be wondering such acronyms as a sweet liddle chillun on the playground.

That's kind of what my delicious Jillian Michaels 100% whey protein double chocolate shake tastes like today...

And I'm kind of glad it does. Ya know?

Like poo...and barf...and reassurance.

At least it lets me know these itty bitty pills are doing something besides making me feel completely neurotic.

So now I don't feel like eating breakfast. That'd usually be a good thing, I suppose, but I tend to need some kind of nutrients before a two day hike. I'm almost positive the seemingly perpetual morning breath feeling will subside here in a few hours and I'll be able to eat something on the road (this is a three hour road trip!)...Geez...I just realized that...Good thing K and I really love each other a boatload, huh? :P No radio in my car...no air conditioning...Just me, and him, and the sound of traffic and wind and hopefully, as we leave the bounds of the concrete jungles and many, many car dealerships and FAR too many overpriced habeeb gas stations and disgustingly alluring fast-food joints...hopefully it'll be just us and the raw, untouched beauty that is the gorgeous west Texas hill country. Lovely. I'll be sure to take pictures!! :D

Oh, and in case you were wondering about the weight thing...this stuff definitely raises your BMR. I usually burn about 1200 calories a day, just laying in bed and living (according to all of those basal metabolic rate calculators, but who the heck can trust anything these days?). As it is now, I'd guess I'm burning quite a bit more, as my body temperature is increased, as is my heart rate. Curious as to "how much I could get away with," I tried having a few things I wouldn't even DREAM of eating on a normal day over the past two. I've had a bagel, for example. Totally forbidden. Chocolate. Ice cream. No fried foods, that's just disgusting. No meats, either. Well, I had shrimp and chicken, so...yeah. Anyway. You get my drift. Point is, I should have gained tons with everything I've been eating.

Nothing.

139.0.

So. Logic says that if I start restricting like a good little girl and stop stuffing myself beyond reason, I should see a loss. Stop bingeing? What an novel fucking concept! Isn't that the purpose behind these drugs in the first place, P.D.? SERIOUSLY? Yeah. It is.

Sorry I'm so rambly. And I'm sorry if this stuff bores you to tears. I'm just so enthralled by it all, and I felt like sharing. I promise I'll stop, just as soon as the newness of it all wears off and I'm back to "normal" again, whatever that is.

I love you dearly! Can't wait to return to you.
<3

Help! I...I can't taste my wine!!

Yep. My Lambrusco tastes of alcoholic ocean water. And yes, I'm still drinking it. These pills put me on edge. Momma needs her comedown, ya hear?

Yeah, the Tope's doin' its thing...to certain things. It's kind of temperamental, it would seem. Or my brain is. Usually, my breakfast tastes like salty cardboard (MUSHY cardboard, if it's oatmeal, and it usually is). As the day wears on, however, food begins to taste wonderful again, and I eat again. Though my appetite has drastically decreased (I tend to have a sense of fullness most of the time, despite having very little in my stomach), food is still CONSTANTLY on my mind. This is to be expected, of course. A pill won't fix my ED. We know this. Medicine won't cure an obsession. If only, right? All the same, taking Topamax is supposed to aid in my endeavors to overcome my binge eating/c&s problems gradually, in conjunction with continuing therapy. I have to do my part. Read: I HAVE TO STOP BINGEING.

Zen, thank you. Your last comment really has helped allay many of my fears and apprehensions concerning all of this over the past couple of days. I have to give it time. It's only been a few days! It feels like forever already! And I can't be so impatient. I know that with my Wellbutrin it took weeks to really build up in my system so that the full effect really began to show...I HAVE to give this the proper time to do the same. Here I am, messing with my own dosage like I have some kind of medical degree...Tweaking it here, deciding when and how much to take...wtf, P.D.? Honestly? This is your BRAIN CHEMISTRY we're talking about here! Leave it to the professionals, right?

Yes.

I just..I've been eating. A lot. And dealing with all of the little side effects of this new drug in the only way I know how. Eating even more. I've got terrible heartburn for much of the day, hot flashes, headaches, irritability, and bouts of anger that arise out of nowhere, and just as quickly subside and make way for huge dips into unexplained depression...I like to think of it as my body's way of adjusting. It raises your body temperature so I'm always hot. Conversely, it inhibits sweating so you have to be really careful not to get TOO hot, and to drink tons of water. I'm not gonna bore you all with all this stuff. :P You can read the FDA's version of it if you want all that nonsense.

Ah well, K is waiting for me to go play some zombie board game with him, so we're gonna go do that. Tomorrow, we hike! And camp. That should be fun. Little B is at Grandma's for the weekend, so no worries there. Yay, outdoorsy stuff! :) I wish I could write more...I feel like there is just so much more in me, and so little time...all the time.

I hope you all are well, and I will miss you dearly in my absence from technology over the next couple of days.
<3