oats and berries

I am constantly oscillating from loving my newfangled peaceful life to wanting to rip my clothes off and run down the street smoking a joint. Let’s be honest, I’ve had a big life shift in the last 2 years. It’s been a gradual turn to the hemingwayesque lifestyle I’m leading. (Minus the self-loathing and alcoholism.) But I will say I’m shifting in my seat a bit. My proverbial ass is numb.
Living in the country has been a lot like eating right and exercising. I know that it’s good for me in the end, but the daily grind of eating oats and berries instead of double deep fried fatty-fatso is really exhausting.
My body has thanked me for not drinking 6 nights a week. It’s a lot easier to keep weight off when you’re not consumed 4000 calories of Strongbow and cherry bombs. But I’m now lacking in a diverse Rolodex of fresh anecdotes.
I can no longer tell you about how last weekend I was so drunk and out of control that after getting water on my shirt, I told everyone I had hypothermia, took a bath during a party and came out wearing a towel and a bubble bath beard screaming, “I’m Abe Lincoln”. Or how I was so drunk I got in someone else’s car and tried to start it. Or maybe how I woke up with a sharpie message on my stomach proclaiming that “laurensbelly.com” was a real website. No, sir.
But I can tell you how I warmed up a little beanbag for my back pain, applied it to myself and watched a documentary on fonts. Or how I got so crazy one day I actually put some chocolate into my homemade granola. Or perhaps how I did an extra 10 minutes on the stationary bike at the Y. I’m so out of control.
Don’t get me wrong, I get away. I go on vacation just about three times a year. We go south, we go to the city, we ski. My mother’s not happy unless we’re vacationing one a quarterly basis. And that suits me just fine.
It’s the nightly excursion that I’m missing. Having a mate has tamed even the way a look. I used to cut my bangs short, wear black nail polish and dress like a life sized Polly Pocket. I really don’t have much of a need for that anymore. Besides, if I dressed now the way I did then, the checkout girl at the local Marysville grocery store would look at me with a bewilderment I don’t think I really need at the end of a long day.
Maybe this is what I’ve always wanted. Other people seem to think it suits me just perfectly.
My sister, for example, who when asked has described my ideal night out as a “bike ride to dairy queen followed by reading country living magazine and going to be at 10”.
At the end of the day, it has to be about what I want. The pros and cons list is short and obscure.
I’m pretty sure I prefer the experience of running on an open country road, wind at my back, wild birds in the sky, to the irritation of stopping for red lights and hurdling homeless people, potholes and Sparks cans.
I prefer going to bed in the silence of a Marysville night, with Clio the cat getting in my lap over “Bombs over Baghdad” vibrating my storm windows and the lights from the ghetto bird in my eyes.
I prefer chatting with the good women of the Marysville Lutheran Church at a Weight Watchers meeting over pretending to listen to some drunk girl with bangs and shiny gold leggings at Skully’s on a Thursday night talk about how she’s so over going to Skully’s on Thursday nights.
I think, in the end that it just means I crave the superficial. I like lipstick, boobs, action movies, fashion, cartoons, parties, cocktails, high heels, art, shopping, cars, and pop music. I long for all that deep-fried fatty culture.
I guess what I’m saying is I’m learning to like the oats and berries.

i really like my friends.
it was pretty killer of evie to come all the way out to marysville to play games. plus she brought homemade soap. which, everyone knows, is the key to my heart.
extreme happiness.

90 day challenge

I have a new roommate! matty is his namo. Just as you think you are passed the age for having random roommates, here comes matt. fresh back from prague and thailand with plenty of explicit stories to prove it.
Matt got a job teaching at a columbus city school. They interviewed him two weeks ago, he started last tuesday. They wasted no time in filling the pregnany leave sub position. He seems to like it so far, but then again, he's had two snow days. Bastard.

Things are great so far. He goes to bed early, gets up early and eats healthy foods. We are definintely creating a wonderful environment here. Jimmy, being naturally healthy had already created that environment but i've been pretty good at forcing whole pizzas and pitchers of beer down his throat.

Now, it's a whole new game. We've started the 90 day challenge.
100 pushups, 100 situps
everday
for 90 days.
In addition to the actual work is the accountability. You have to mark when you've completed your set and also (when we have the time) get your picture taken with your shirt off to show your progress. Zoiks. It's horrifying. (for everyone but jimmy)


Being that jimmy is a total documentary freak, this has us thinking about making a short docudrama about our struggles and triumphs as we make our transformation into hard bodies.
As matt says, "fight club by may".
This can't really be my model persay. But i have to say, i can already feel a difference. I don't think i have had an abdominal muscle that you could identify since i was seven. So, this could be awesome. I have high hopes.

This weekend? Back to athens for evietime. Wish i could stay longer. Feels like a retreat down there. Maybe my tune will change when i see it with all of the snow.
better bundle.

defiance ohio

evie's camera makes me want a better camera. when she takes pictures of breakfast, it looks like the cover of gourmet magazine. when i take pictures of breakfast it looks like breakfast. which can be grim.

i'm running again. full speed. it's coming along slowly. i've started doing it at six in the morning instead of six at night, which is surpirsingly far more refreshing. i'd like to run a half marathon this year, but the idea kind of terrifies me. then again, so did a triathlon. so i should just shut up and do it.

i feel like i'm supposed to be having an identity crisis right now, but i'm too tired to even bother.
i don't think i could stand to keep this current job for more than three years. ok, maybe four. but after that, no way. i honestly can't even imagine having the same career for the rest of my life. i don't even really do the same thing everyday.
i drive to different meetings, different hospitals. i think it's just the 8 to 5 thing that really gets me.
i sound like my mother, but i mean it when i say that when i get home, i'm just done with the day.
tonight i planned to work out. instead i ate sugar cookies, painted my toenails and re-watched the best episodes of buffy. not very productive.
if winter wasn't so god damned long i'd be outside every night. i defy you, awful ohio winter.
i'm quitting hip hop class. i'm fed up with my 23 year old skinny, narcissistic teacher. she's always saying things like "my boyfriend can do this crazy sick move..." i'm not interested. she wastes my cardio time by talking about how fat she looks in the mirror. she weighs about 110 and she's my height. yeah, fuck that girl. we're through.
so now i'm off to investigate other marysville activities. the offerings are surprisingly diverse.

the market

remember the song "i'm sorry for 2004"? i do. i sung it to my father as he bought flowers for my mother at the west side market the day after christmas. he's not so sure what he's sorry for, but he's sure it requires flowers. my mom had absolutely no interest in going to the market to haggle with produce people, stare at dead pigs feet or smell fresh fish. she's not a fan. but she is a fan of family togetherness, and this is an event in which that togetherness comes naturally. sadly, it doesn't include my mom. so, she pouted.
i put her out of my mind and enjoyed the crunchy beauty of the market. this is my favorite new tradition. we did it last year. i'm hoping it happens again. we go for fish that you cannot find more fresh anywhere else. dad makes sushi with it.
the place makes me feel like i'm in a good dream. i get a hot vanilla coffee and a crepe with cinnamon and sugar. i follow the smells of fresh bread and homemade peanutbutter. it makes me crazy happy. here's a view from the upstairs balcony.

i always enjoy the north market in columbus, but my sister and i were discussing an important point: cleveland is just so much older than columbus. the buildings and their architecture cannot compete. i mean really, look at the ceiling.
kaitlin and i decided that cleveland people, in addition to the architecture have their own special charm unique to their home. they have strange accents, they have a sprinkle of new york-toughness and their fashion is about 10 years behind. we like it.
i will post more about christmas but for now i am going to bask in the glory of my new lap top and go visit cat websites.
hugs and kisses,
the fiendish dr. net.

holiday bonus

today is our company's holiday meeting/party, with an emphasis on the meeting. there better be a bonus in there, or i will cry. i've never been a member of a company that actually receives company bonuses, so i can't complain.
all i can think about is when bill murray doles out the vcrs and hand towels in scrooged. hope i don't get stuck with a fucking hand towel.

tomorrow is party time. i'm excited. jimmy and i will have to do our best to facilitate our respective parties. he, with his video games and stand up comedy. me, with my dress and stuffy wine and cheese party.
see the thing i like about my "stuffy" parties is that they start classy, then slowly spiral out of control. i want to be the girl with my skirt over my head.
eh, don't hold your breath.

it's all about giving

the holidays are a tumultuous time for us at the kraft house.
this year
she asked me what i wanted. i told her, some framed art or a comforter.
(we are each allowed one "big" present, i thought either one of those items would aptly fill the criteria)however, my mother has decided that it is inappropriate to ask for household items for christmas.
so, she has other plans.
a down jacket from lands end.
lands end. i had to say it twice for emphasis.
actually, as gross and grandma-ish as it is, it's really quite fun to dress an avatar model who looks exactly like you up in some matching clothes. and i mean this thing looks freakishly like me. cweepy.
when i told her again that i didn't want a jacket, i have enough clothes, she told me i was being "an ungrateful little bitch"
zoiks. she said the b word.
she said that i should consider what the giver wants to give. and not ask for things that aren't "fun to buy".
"pick something else out." she said. "like a camera or a sweater"
i have over 30 sweaters. it's ethically unstable of me to even consider wanting more.
ohhh, ok. so it's about the giver.
i totally forgot what christmas was about.
i should tell jimmy that he should let me buy things for him that are fun for me to buy,
like teapots.


my mother is hyperemotional