Itchy boobs, daily fasting, and a general glimpse at being 33
I’m sitting down to write, once again not knowing what it will be. Will this be a blog? A journal entry? Does it matter? Is there a difference?
For some reason it seems like being in a place where there is no difference is the ultimate place to be -- where there’s nothing you wouldn’t share.
Yet at the same time -- there’s something about intimacy and privacy and sharing with chosen people that really resonates with me lately. Not in the name of censorship or curation, but for the beauty of intention.
I keep telling myself I’ll write every week even if it’s just a quick update. But I don’t.
And then today I had the thought of just wanting a picture of myself and what my life is at 33. Because I know I won’t remember the details, and writing can make a time capsule.
I’m 33 (a month ago). I have bacne that goes away (and stays away) with regular back scrubber usage in the shower, but I can’t bring myself to wash my goddamn back every time I bathe. It’s just annoying. I usually yell from the shower for Kris and make him do it.
My right boob is itchy lately. It’s concentrated on the areola and the whole thing is quite dry. I googled it and there’s only a 5% chance it’s breast cancer. It’s probably just “winter skin”, because nothing else makes sense. I don’t wear a bra or use grody detergent or do anything else that might irritate my boobs. By the way -- if you voice dictate to google “why are my titties itchy?”, Google knows what you mean.
I have really been wanting a dressing table lately. And interestingly -- after I started having the urge, I begun looking at summer cottages and they all have dressing tables. Funny, no? I want to sit on a cooshy bench or chair at a gorgeous table with a beautiful mirror and pamper my face and skin every day.
A month or so ago I ordered some of this probiotic face mist. So far it’s done absolutely nothing, but I enjoy misting it on every day. I thought it might make the giant pores on my nose smaller or soften the deep crease in between my eyes or fade this large brown “age spot” I have on my lower left cheek. Who the fuck cares anyway?
Even more recently I ordered vitamin C facial toner mist after seeing a health blogger I love rave about vitamin c on the face and then seeing it in a friend’s bathroom, which of course I sampled (It was put out like it wanted to be sampled. I didn’t, like, go through her medicine cabinet.)
See? Now why would I say that if this wasn’t some sort of blog? I don’t need to tell myself that. So I guess if writing with thought of someone reading it is the only way I’ll actually write, well then so be it.
I’ve never loved my boyfriend more. There is literally nothing he does that bothers me. And we don't just tolerate each other, we actively enjoy each other's company all day every day. Like the other day. We pulled up to a store and I noticed a car that looked like his ex wife's and I said, "Are you sure that isn't hers?" and he said, "Oh yeah, I already checked. It's a different model, but besides that -- there's no mark on the side of the door from when I hit that homeless person. I had already taken all of that into account before you even asked me." And I just about died laughing. Like. I was gasping for air laughing walking into the store. Just a regular ol' Monday, running errands. And even the stuff that he does that I playfully razz him for doesn’t actually bother me. Like the other day he spilled almost an entire bag of my favorite shredded cheese all over the floor. I just thought it was kind of adorable. I don't even mind when he farts near me, I just enjoy making a huge deal out of it. I wonder who these couples are that snap at each other for things all the time. There’s so many people who are together that don’t seem to like each other at all, let alone love each other.
Right now we’re sleeping in separate beds, but our rooms are attached and we sleep with the adjoining door open. Every night we lay in “my” bed to snuggle for an hour and then he goes and crawls into his bed. He snores. I sleep light. It sucks. And our bed is too small. I honestly don’t know if I’m sleeping any better, but now we’re just so used to doing it.
I’ve started coating him in castor oil and tea tree oil every morning in yet another attempt to heal his skin. It’s the saddest thing ever to see him just itch himself bloody all day every day. And when we work out or he otherwise sweats for some reason, his skin blows up like he has third degree burns and it burns and stings until the sweat dries. It’s not like we haven’t tried all the things, but there’s still a little bit of hope when you find a “new thing” and still fantasize that it could be “the thing”. So far it is helping. Will it help to the point of healing? Who knows. Will he build up a tolerance to it like he has everything else? I hope not.
I’m pretty fucking sure I have gallstones. I still have to go pick up the ultrasound report. Have you ever had an abdominal ultrasound? It takes for fucking ever and is super uncomfortable. I’ve read about gallbladder flushes and they seem super counterintuitive for someone who actually has gallstones. I discovered that if I have an attack, if I just drink some apple cider vinegar and lemon juice, it’s gone within sixty seconds. I don’t understand this even one bit, but it’s worked four times now, so fuck. I’ll drink that forever before I’d have my damn gallbladder removed.
The dentist wanted to pull three of my wisdom teeth because they have cavities. But why? Why not just fill the cavity like you would on any other tooth? They’re otherwise perfectly functioning wonderful teeth. Why would I put myself through oral surgery for the arbitrary reasoning of the fact that cavities are on wisdom teeth and it’s socially acceptable to have them pulled?
I’m seeing a new primary doctor this week. Kind of like Kris’ skin, I’m still hopeful I’ll find “the one”.
Valentine’s Day is tomorrow. I’m making Kris take me to Panera Bread. I really have a thing for chain bakeries. We’ll also go to the farmer’s market just because it happens every Wednesday. They double your food stamps money up to $20 and since we’re eating vegetables again, I’ve been going every week. We went through like a month or two long phase where we just didn’t hardly eat any produce. It was all toaster waffles and fish sticks and burritos filled with meat and cheese. I didn’t really think too much about it, but now I’ve been enjoying vegetables again, and sometimes fruit.
I spend most days lately looking at English cottages. We’re spoiled for choices and I know I have to choose soon, but it’s so hard.
It’s overcast today, but is still a warm 70 degrees out. It’s dry and there’s a breeze and I feel bad for all of my friends who are posting about cabin fever. I wonder why they live somewhere with such harsh seasons (though you could say the same thing about Phoenix) and I wonder why they don’t plan better and get out of the weather they hate so much. In other words: I’m pretty fucking judgmental.
I’ve been feeding two cats every day. To the point where I’ve started buying “cat milk” at the store. I imagine these cats have this harsh street life and I like giving them somewhere they can take refuge. It’s like Phoebe when she’s like, “There are no selfless good deeds”.
I’ve retired my reusable toilet paper and also my reusable pads and cups. I looooove disposable pads. I started getting a damn taint rash every month with the Thinx. I still wear them sometimes, but not the majority of the time. I also buy toothpaste now -- the Dr. Bronner’s peppermint.
We’re still doing our yoga trade. They had their yearly staff party last month and we were invited. There was lots of prosecco and fancy cheese and I felt comfortable walking around barefoot since it was a yoga studio. The most I could dress up was to put a swishy dress over stretchy pants. I just can’t even.
Last week I had my first haircut in a year. It was at a salon that was exactly like Steel Magnolias. I didn’t even care that the lady washed my hair with weird shampoo and put all kinds of mystery product in it. It’s important to get regular haircuts if you have long hair! I didn’t realize that was 90% of the reason I thought I had shitty hair and it was greasy and frizzy all the time. It was because the bottom two inches were goddamn split ends, duh.
We rejoined the gym and go just about every day. Though lately we only do cardio and never feel like doing weights afterwards. Kris can go twice as fast and have the same heart rate as me. I wonder if my heart will get healthier. It didn’t before when we went to the gym regularly, but that was a couple of years ago so maybe things are different now.
I had the goddamn cardiopulmonary stress test at the hospital and the arterial line they put in my arm was one of the most painful things of all time. And the test showed nothing, except that I have exceptionally healthy lungs and heart on paper. No indication as to why my resting heart rate is so fast or why I get winded so easily. Not that I was like hoping for something bad, but thought maybe it’d give me some clues.
We’re doing intermittent fasting every day, only eating between noon and 8pm. So far it sucks and I am so fucking hungry by noon, but for some reason I’m able to do it. I haven’t noticed any profound differences in how I feel, but the real tell will be when I get more blood work this week.
I kinda can’t even with social media. After we started the crypto thing and realized it’s a thing, I’ve just had absolutely no desire to engage. I love instagram though, fucking love it. I have a few people and pages on Facebook that I have marked as “see first”, so I’ll pop open facebook just to see what’s at the top. But that’s it. I rarely scroll facebook at all. I don’t engage on the internet at all in random ways -- comments sections of articles, facebook groups, etc. I private message a handful of people I actually like and post on instagram stories. That’s all.
It’s this weird feeling of “putting things out there” and not wanting to picture: A) the people who have been dickheads to me knowing anything about my life, and B) rando people who follow me reaching out and wanting to “know more”, which only ever means they want to meet me for coffee and get a free therapy session about polyamory or quitting their job or whatever. Ew, no. I used to like helping people in that way, but in the end it just sucked me dry. And when I needed help, no one helped me. So like -- not that I’m one to “keep score” with life in general, but that was just highly unmotivating. And now that I’m out of the darkness I feel really protective of my energy.
Another random tidbit from this time is that we’re taking a curated gang of b vitamins + zinc and TMG for our MTHFR mutations. I’m curious to see if over time this makes a noticeable difference. I’m also taking vitamin d for my teeth and have been taking vitamin c every day since my surgery. Interestingly, we haven’t gotten sick even a little bit….? Even though we’ve been in hospitals, doctor’s office, and rubbed our faces all over props and blankets at the yoga studio. I can’t help but wonder if the c, d, and zinc these last few months have been helping us out in a big way.
We put a king size bed in the living room and spend a large part of the day there. I like having a bed to nest in during the day and not worry about getting schmutz and shit all over it, and then have a separate pristine bed just for sleeping.
There are some days where I’ll drink four cups of black tea in an afternoon. Sometimes I don’t wash or brush my hair for a week. I started washing my sheets every Saturday. I fantasize daily about having a dishwasher. And a bathtub. I masturbate 4-5 times a week, always at night before bed. I’m really into pepperjack cheese right now.
I think that’s it. I think that’s enough to where if I read this in ten years, it’d be enough to conjure up a pretty clear image of what this time looks like.