Actually, while I’m here, could i just say a hearty
##Fuck Today!
?
I can? Thank you.
Small ‘p’ politics rears its head at voluntary stuff yesterday, and in still overthinking it today.
Crappy reply to a complaint (that i was advised to make) from LG, that not only confirms that they think six months is a reasonable life for a flagship phone to start to get display ghosting, but their passive-aggressive policy-reply hints that this complaint will have ‘repercussions’ for the front-line support member who actually tried to give, well excellent customer support (this has dragged on since last year), for actually trying to help.
Oh and I woke-up with a sore throat, a light case of the lurgy and physically and emotionally run-down. Huzzah!
(Nearly forgot, the landlord wants access to inspect, prior to work on the windows, which was the same straw that last time tipped me into A&E with an I Can’t Believe it’s Not Buttera stroke )
Wheeee!
Come on tomorrow, I can’t wait for you to arrive!
My oldest friend has blocked my Twitter account today.
As far as I can tell, this stemmed from a tweet I made January 23: “I guess a The joy [ETA:] for many [/ETA] of social media is ignoring someone’s people’s surgeries and learning whether removed lump was malignant or benign.” She took this personally, and started barraging retweets of mourning her friends and relatives the last six months, She also tweeted she had found support. She did not ask me about my surgery, claimed she never saw my tweet, so I provided it. My tweet did have some replies from faraway friends showing concern, and I posted here in the “Victory” thread, so I didn’t pursue the matter further. She’s not the only LT friend who missed it.
Then I went off Twitter for five weeks to do #InCoWriMo. I did send her a birthday ecard to three of her email accounts in the interim. When I came back to Twitter she retweeted her barrage to me in direct message. I’m silent, but I’m thinking “that’s a lot of grief; I should just give her space.” But I did tweet a URL from a newspaper article about “should I see a grief counselor?”
Weeks later I posted a non-scale victory: a waist-to-height ratio of .41616 with “exercise not required.” I tweeted to my doctor that the only people who believe I lost weight this way are the people who saw the before and after me and/or were losing weight through similar methods. He liked that. This prompted general tweets from her about #diet and #exercise, how her diet was average, how diets w/o exercise failed. She’d posted Nov 2016 she was at her pre-pregnancy weight and I gave her a Like then. So the “I reduced; you reduce but you did it wrong” accusation from a non-MD when ahem I’d been under a doctor’s supervision seemed off to me. It seemed to me that she preferred to limit interactions to Twitter and make them passive and general, I prefer one-to-one interactions off Twitter. She’d complain about lopsided relationships, I’d muse silently that the ratio of birthday cards I sent to the ones she sent is at 5:1.
But with her gone, I can post a pic of me measuring my waist at 29 in/74 cm, and know I won’t be triggering someone whom I suspect would benefit from grief counseling. I know from losing my siblings and my parents that the world seems angry and unfair to the bereaved, She didn’t lose anyone that close: the only thing I can think of is maybe she’s scared of losing someone she’s attached to, so detaching abruptly might be the way out for her. It just seems dumb and preventable.
the only thing I can think of is maybe she’s scared of losing someone After a sleep it occurred to me that cognitive distortions from accumulated grief and trauma may be getting the best of her. I’ve seen academics falter and flail on fewer than 140 characters on Twitter so not sure how someone like me without a Psychology or Social Work degree would do better at concisely fighting projections and cognitive distortions.
Carlisle United seemed to have listened to my advice last week, so maybe they will listen to this bit too.
Learn about the offside rule.
686 minutes since their last (allowed) goal now. We’re now out of the play off places. I haven’t seen their results be this bad since the first half of the 2003-4 season.
So wait, because I see a doc regularly, I include diet and exercise, I get quarterly blood tests, and now I’m almost back to the BMI I was in high school, I’m doing it wrong?
It gets me riled up. We are all different. What works for you may not work for me, and that’s damn okay. And we all come in different shapes and sizes, and that’s good. But as you outright said, the judgemental part is just draining.
Dayum. At my fittest, if I held in my gut–and we are talking about a seriously low BMI, my bones couldn’t go below 33. I was in the 40’s for a long time, and now right about 35. Which is likely where I am gonna stay, and I’m happy with that.
My doctor recommended resistance training, and but I don’t know if he meant resistance against sweets, or uninformed catty comments, or weight-bearing resistance exercises, or all of the above.
My confession: I tend to share my weight loss milestones close to my birthday or Christmas, so my friends will send me chocolate and toffee to covertly undo me. They forget I have a secret weapon: a 5’10", 120 lbs boy who protects me against non-nutritive carbohydrates by taking the bullets meant for me. My kid is working his way through a bag of Thornton’s Toffees, essentially English refined burnt sugar.
What were the suppositions you were losing weight incorrectly? Yes, we are all different, that’s why some of us have allergies to certain foods and proteins, and others don’t. That’s why some of us are ectomorphic, some endomorphic and others mesomorphic. Some of us can’t digest beef, others get inflammation from casein in dairy. Think how small the diet books shelf space would be if we all tolerated the same foods.
Nailed it. Moderation is key. I fast quite a bit, but don’t neglect nutrition. And I usually eat light, except when I bake or the occasional splurge on general Tsos.
(Still need to reign in the odd pint. It gets expensive, and really doesn’t help much)
I am a classic mesomorph. Which has its advantages and disadvantages. I’ll never be as quick as an ectomorph, nor as strong as a endomorph. But I like who I am, and my physical body is very close to my internal body image, these days.
But I’ve always been a bit of a peacock. Exhibit A:
With no nutrition training, I bet. A teensy bit of Twitter-stalking would’ve shown her who my doctoris.
I’m mostly “if the weight loss works for you, great!” but if people die of a pulmonary embolism three months after their weight loss goals were met, and their autopsies show all these blood clots from high blood sugar from their diets they were on when they had hip, knee, or shoulder surgery, and they had hypertension, I’d be scratching my head about the diet’s effectiveness. If I were a blood relative of such a person, as in came from the same two parents, I would probably have a low-glycemic diet and eat the exact opposite diet of the gone-too-early, but that’s just me.
So one of the people on my dissertation committee died on Friday. Apparently, he just collapsed and couldn’t be revived, not sure of the cause as of yet.
Here he is on mandolin, playing at a local popular venue:
Seriously fuck today. He was a great guy, who always had a smile ready and was always in a great mood. And he always listened to you. And he was an awesome mandolin player.
