tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21061204533699182632024-03-05T04:52:29.350-06:00Granola BatOh snap, I got patchouli in my perkygoth.LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-52133517072383405632019-07-08T12:22:00.001-05:002019-07-08T13:58:36.858-05:00Five things I've learned after 2 weeks of Project 333<div>
<a href="https://bemorewithless.com/project-333/" target="_blank">The Project 333 experiment</a> has been a curiosity to me for years now. It does, periodically, have Moments on both minimalism and fashion blogs -- which are, in fact, my jam. </div>
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The tl;dr version is that <a href="https://bemorewithless.com/project-333/" target="_blank">Courtney at Be More With Less</a> came up with this challenge, oh, goodness, I don't know how many years ago. You choose 33 items (excluding underwear, exercise clothes and PJ's, and everyday things such as my glasses and my engagement ring) which you will wear for the next 3 months. 33/3, get it? You toss everything else into boxes and get it out of sight. Every shoe, scarf, pair of earrings, all is up for scrutiny to achieve a closet-spot among the 33.</div>
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If you have an "I chose poorly" moment where something isn't working and/or you want to switch, you can, because this is not an exercise in suffering. Obviously, you want to limit this by choosing well from the get-go, but this is an experiment. It's not a vow of austerity. In this way, the idea is that you'll reap benefits such as an easier time choosing outfits, better knowledge of which of your clothes work on you, and an understanding that owning so much stuff doesn't really make you happier. Your mileage may vary, and this doesn't necessarily work for everyone. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihQGKDxC5SVyKLDSYU9C8VF-5z4j6J1nzvIV_w2EaT_JM6TeAaJNsejwenLvw6Xvu_nO9QBQiaH6T6nKDGRG3fOxa_5DzODNEdm7QR0aW0UT5C86AtCgVEO5sx0lRuksEdIkG4xFAehrHQ/s1600/smirk.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="595" data-original-width="597" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihQGKDxC5SVyKLDSYU9C8VF-5z4j6J1nzvIV_w2EaT_JM6TeAaJNsejwenLvw6Xvu_nO9QBQiaH6T6nKDGRG3fOxa_5DzODNEdm7QR0aW0UT5C86AtCgVEO5sx0lRuksEdIkG4xFAehrHQ/s320/smirk.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">The face of a gal whose wardrobe just got <i>beaucoup</i> easier</span></td></tr>
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I pared out my items on Sunday, June 23, and I've been going strong for exactly 2 weeks as of today. Here's what I've learned so far:</div>
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<li>I have way too much shit!</li>
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<li>In fairness, I already knew that, but the point really drives home after trying and failing to stuff everything outside my chosen items into two huge Rubbermaid totes. I even cheated by choosing 35 items instead of 33. I also decided I'd start with only one month and see how it goes. I've only switched out one shirt and one necklace, because I wasn't wearing them.</li>
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<li>Laundry is so much easier! </li>
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<li>I have done one load of laundry since I started. Everything is fresh and clean today, except for one gray T-shirt I forgot in a gym bag. I have full confidence I won't even need it 'til the next laundry day.</li>
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<li>It encourages you to organize the rest of your house too!</li>
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<li>I've re-organized my entire jewelry box, and started a new Donation Bag of Shame to take up closet floor space until it's been full for a few <strike>days</strike> <strike>weeks</strike> months and then hang out in my car for a few weeks before it's dropped off. </li>
<li>I also folded and organized everything in my undie drawer, all my makeup, my scarf collection, my sunglasses collection, and I have big plans for my current helter-skelter storage situation in the basement.</li>
<li>I'm also taking extra time now experimenting on evening and weekend primp-routine, so that in the longer haul, I will get these tasks down to a quick, streamlined art form. This... Still has a ways to go. God bless my patient fiance.</li>
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<li>Getting dressed in the morning is so quick! And I have yet to repeat an outfit. What even IS this magic?</li>
<li><strike>33</strike> 35 isn't actually enough items for my lifestyle. </li>
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<li>I decided last weekend that club clothes don't count, because I needed something appropriate for <a href="https://www.facebook.com/spellboundindy/" target="_blank">Spellbound</a>, and none of those 35 items struck the right note. I <i>could have</i> worn something from the 35-item wardrobe, but none of them "sparked joy" when it came down to my preferred party look. I do truly appreciate this whole capsule-wardrobe experiment, but I think in the future I'll up the item count to a solid 40, so I have some higher-drama items built in for clubbing nights. Or any time I just plain feel like it.</li>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWef4o3FUQ6uEiuiBvX_Hniv_P0DzM0AYkP7gjOcLGelFC97wV1qrJ1lA6gd-GFyB7zhSAr0cx-4dDnq7kesHSl17xf6mdI8pO-OkdSDyKVJUdGDqGienC0i8oX8cPrtn9GbiBfzGqa0kt/s1600/party.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="592" data-original-width="415" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWef4o3FUQ6uEiuiBvX_Hniv_P0DzM0AYkP7gjOcLGelFC97wV1qrJ1lA6gd-GFyB7zhSAr0cx-4dDnq7kesHSl17xf6mdI8pO-OkdSDyKVJUdGDqGienC0i8oX8cPrtn9GbiBfzGqa0kt/s320/party.JPG" width="224" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">The party look. With my friend Devon.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Lilith Fair tee, check.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Torn fishnets, check.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Flannel, check.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Pleather hotpants, check.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Velvet choker, check.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Yep, I'm totally doing all the things my parents wouldn't let me in the 90's.</span></td></tr>
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The experiment has definitely been useful for gaining insights on myself, my lifestyle, and how many clothes and accessories actually are necessary. I have already caught myself getting a little bored, though, so that energy is something I'll be monitoring. </div>
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I look damn good, though. My friend Teri said I remind her of Audrey Hepburn yesterday, so I mean... Hell yes, I'll take that. I've gotten a bit better handle on what my "signature" style might be, and how I want to refine that further. I'm also itching to sort through everything that didn't make the cut, to see which ones will make it into future capsules - and which will go into the Bag of Shame.</div>
LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-92172376642990850652019-05-25T12:52:00.000-05:002019-05-25T12:52:22.097-05:00It's time for a gratitude list.Overall, in the last few months, things haven't been so much rough as they've just been... Mush. Like... unseasoned mashed potatoes. Equally joyless and painless. Equally without flavor or meaning.<br />
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At least when I felt like shit last week, I felt <i>something.</i></div>
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It's pretty hard to figure out a balance of honesty about the natural pathos in my life and in my head, and maintain some level of aspirational-status that's generally a goal when you want to finally get around to monetizing your writing skill. And pretty much nobody wants to be what I've mostly felt like lately. Here's the thing, though. It ain't a sprint, and change comes from choice. Have I really been wallowing in same-old, or have I just not been paying attention?</div>
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Here's a challenge if you're relating to any of this: Count ten things you're grateful for. Right now. Scratch them down on a Post-It, the back of a napkin, whatever you've got. Feel free to share in the comments. Here goes:</div>
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1) Therapy is going really freaking well. I'm consistent in going twice a month. I've caught myself using some of the things I've learned or had suggested since I started seeing Doris, and we're starting to get into tackling some of the heavy stuff now. </div>
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2) Wading into a little of the heavy trauma this past Tuesday didn't gut me. I still had some energy to chat over dinner, and to be disgustingly adorable with David. As we do.</div>
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3) David's birthday is Monday. As has been my tradition so far, I bought his ring way too early, considering we aren't getting married 'til next August. I figured he'd get a kick out of it, so I call it an early birthday present. He has not taken it off since he got it out of the box, so I guess we're basically married now.</div>
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4) Total strangers stop me and try to grab at my hand to admire my ring. It's that freaking gorgeous.</div>
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5) I've gotten to be a voice of encouragement for the postal worker who brings mail to our workplace. He wants to do graphic design, but doesn't think he's good enough to even start up a LinkedIn, because he has very little formal training. I told my dude we all start somewhere, and he ought to email our creative director. This is a dude who has managed to make a career out of his drawing and design work, and he's incredibly supportive and encouraging to others.</div>
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6) I've decided on some certifications to work toward in order to advance my own career. Now to just find the time and energy to work on them!</div>
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7) I really probably could write a whole book on building healthy and positive romantic relationships, just based on what I've learned and put into realistic practice in these recent years. There are a lot of aspects in which I couldn't really be considered "living the dream," but people look their whole lives and never find what we have. My partner is absolutely my best friend, and even if there's nothing else I look forward to in a day, I always look forward to being with him.</div>
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8) Bonus Kid just hit a milestone - middle school is over, and he hits his first day of high school in just a few short months! I'm so proud of him.</div>
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9) Amazon Associates not working out. I admit I never really promoted my affiliate links, because I was pretty ambivalent about it. A lot of even more nasty things have been revealed recently, and I cannot in good conscience feed the Bezos machine for monetary gain. There are other, better paths to create and get paid for it. Growth continues.</div>
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10) I'm consistently pleased when my friends' efforts toward their own dreams work out. My friends' <a href="https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/agrestasaurus/grimmerspace" target="_blank">Kickstarter for Grimmerspace RPG</a> got funded in one hour, and my friend Tony is <a href="https://www.gofundme.com/buy-a-geek-an-accordion" target="_blank">getting an accordion</a>. How badass is that?</div>
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Oh, snap!</div>
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Bonus) I am grateful for women like Candice Marie Benbow: </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipZxF5x2aJ4Zbqkyricdkd44dDtV0Gu4HyjD7LMBLKfBx3Ll89w_oOLSzAEaGvIXQzxOuG-3BKFpXf9AqRjF7pR2_8BpcbexptQvFNMHA_oVvxyhZUtsCFfY-MRbu7I033LEG_xnNDAD5v/s1600/snip2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="820" data-original-width="437" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipZxF5x2aJ4Zbqkyricdkd44dDtV0Gu4HyjD7LMBLKfBx3Ll89w_oOLSzAEaGvIXQzxOuG-3BKFpXf9AqRjF7pR2_8BpcbexptQvFNMHA_oVvxyhZUtsCFfY-MRbu7I033LEG_xnNDAD5v/s320/snip2.JPG" width="170" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://twitter.com/CandiceBenbow/status/1131962276905390080" target="_blank">This lady</a> is the kind of woman I want to be for other women, and the kind of woman I want in my life. We should support each other! </div>
LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-75136666974804514562019-05-24T12:07:00.003-05:002019-05-24T12:07:53.217-05:00Ah jeez, someone just wrote why I haven't been writing, better than I probably ever could. <div class="graf graf--h4 graf-after--p" id="540f" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 1.85714em; margin-bottom: 1.875rem; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Gotham SSm A, Gotham SSm B;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><i>"Depression steals joy, but it also steals time.</i></span></span></div>
<div class="graf graf--h4 graf-after--p" id="540f" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 1.85714em; margin-bottom: 1.875rem; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Gotham SSm A, Gotham SSm B;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><i>Depression steals time in my life that I would otherwise use creatively, to write, to read, to grow.</i></span></span></div>
<div class="graf graf--h4 graf-after--p" id="540f" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 1.85714em; margin-bottom: 1.875rem; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Gotham SSm A, Gotham SSm B;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><i>It’s nearly impossible for me to be sitting here getting these words out of my fingers onto the screen — I’ve nodded off at least twice, I keep deleting things and re-writing them, not knowing what to say because I feel like it’s the same old story, told for the billionth time by the millionth person.</i></span></span></div>
<div class="graf graf--h4 graf-after--p" id="540f" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 1.85714em; margin-bottom: 1.875rem; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Gotham SSm A, Gotham SSm B;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><i>Days go by and all feel the same because they are the same.</i></span></span></div>
<div class="graf graf--h4 graf-after--p" id="540f" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 1.85714em; margin-bottom: 1.875rem; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Gotham SSm A, Gotham SSm B;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><i>When nothing new is created, a day is wasted.</i></span></span></div>
<div class="graf graf--h4 graf-after--p" id="540f" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 1.85714em; margin-bottom: 1.875rem; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Gotham SSm A, Gotham SSm B;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><i>It’s something I’ve felt for years, and it’s something I feel even more acutely when I am not creating because I am stuck in a dark hole of depression, feeling like I’m without a good word to say.</i></span></span></div>
<div class="graf graf--h4 graf-after--p" id="540f" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 1.85714em; margin-bottom: 1.875rem; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Gotham SSm A, Gotham SSm B;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><i>Depression steals my words from me."</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Gotham SSm A, Gotham SSm B;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><i><a href="https://twloha.com/blog/depression-steals-more-than-just-joy/?fbclid=IwAR3x5I9LHMyQBXxEQ5Kfo4n_QimMUbCyxQB0ble9Ev5VGwl5JuH40GcSz24" target="_blank">Full post here</a></i></span></span></div>
LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-56456218182258359022019-05-18T04:29:00.001-05:002019-05-18T04:29:41.605-05:00Sometimes my head is a very scary place to be.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I haven't been so compelled to write that it wouldn't let me do literally anything else, for quite some time. I'd much rather still be sleeping.<br />
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Unfortunately (Fortunately?) something broke in me last night. That dam that holds in all the roiling mass of... nightmares? screaming? inner demons? Anyway, yep, that broke after threatening to all week. I hate it when I go from outwardly functional to not being able to turn off the waterworks for hours. David just sat there, alternately holding me and letting me fidget-pace around, streaming frighteningly-quiet tears and sobs, unable to stop the word-vomit of every little thing I usually keep in.<br />
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If I'm honest, I haven't been in a safe place to actually let go or process what's actually going on in here since about 2008. It's now abundantly clear that this man loves every bit of me, even the fears and darknesses I haven't even told my therapist about yet. Even the Jerry Springer-level family drama that has been unfolding behind the scenes in my town of origin. Even the traumas that come screaming out after over half a decade of folding it up and shoving it under layers of whatever distractions I can find, because we mustn't be real about how broken we are -- Gotta survive capitalism and all.<br />
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I couldn't go to my own grandfather's funeral in 2012 because I was poor, I'd just started a new job, and they'd fire me if I missed work for the funeral,. Twelve dollars an hour was not worth these years of guilt. That's not even close to the worst I've sunk to survive. We do so many things not because we choose to, but because it's the least-bad option among many bad options.<br />
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I'm in the absolute safest possible place to let some of this happen. Surprisingly, I've grown quite fond of being around. Three years ago, I couldn't really see myself living past 35. Now, I like being here enough to literally have parts of myself cut out because, even if I wanted to have any kids, carrying a pregnancy to term would likely be a death sentence. I'm surprised as hell to enjoy living so much that I'm unwilling to risk being forced to do something that might kill me.<br />
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I love this life enough to admit that it sometimes hurts more than I can even express.<br />
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My head hurts, my knees have decided to chime in, and I don't know what my jaw was doing in my sleep, but it feels like it may fall off. My eyes can barely focus on this screen, but I couldn't lie in the dark and listen to David's snoring mingle with the internal screaming that happens sometimes.<br />
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The screaming has pitched back down to the usual internal whispering monologue. It's saying mean things, but it's been meaner. I'm able, again, tell that voice it's lying and it can eat shit.<br />
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I've managed to turn the noise back down. Mostly what I hear now is my own breathing, and several dozen birds cheering on the new day.LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-60269555795706496392019-02-14T10:54:00.000-06:002019-02-14T10:54:09.693-06:00Daywalker Dressing: look the part<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Have you ever just been so Damn Over It? I've kind of felt like Sisyphus all week. Sometimes you just swallow the scream, and smile and nod. Looking professional enough on the outside helps protect the cash flow 'til the workflow feels natural again. Maybe it's just the weather. My anxiety has just been on a spike lately, and it leaves me feeling too tired to write, and frankly kind of mean but with few outlets. I don't know where the good karaoke spots are in this town, but I have a mighty need.<br />
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At least I look fresh and profesh and manage not to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fy3rjQGc6lA" target="_blank">throw the TPS report</a> at anyone. Or <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N9wsjroVlu8" target="_blank">break any printers</a>.<br />
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The good days will come again.<br />
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Gray sweater: Gap, thrifted<br />
Bow blouse: thrifted<br />
Pull-on pants: 212 Collection at Kohl'sLC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-90903141062878258582019-01-25T10:24:00.000-06:002019-01-25T11:46:50.914-06:00Sometimes a breakthrough looks like a breakdown, part 3: The first wolf<i>Content notes for emotional abuse, threats, sexual coercion, and mention of physical abuse. Out of necessity, I've broken things down into smaller pieces than I was going to. The depression is somewhat improved from this time last week, but I'm still dragging ass -- And strangely enough, talking about past traumas doesn't make me feel any less tired! I lack the energy or emotional fortitude to speak about 3 different abusers today. It is necessary, though, that I speak of at least one. I hope someone, somewhere, sees the flags earlier and avoids going down this road -- or recognizes themselves and finds the resources to leave. </i><br />
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He had the most devilish grin -- My mom hated him. So, of course, I adored him. It was the early 2000's, and we lived in rural Indiana, so of course everyone our age was into nu-metal. He dressed sort of like he was in one of those bands. He was moody to match, and he had that certain early-oughts porcupine hair; surely you remember it. (None of the bleached orange-blonde tips, mercifully.) We both had our hair dyed black - of course, of course we did.<br />
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In a manner of speaking, I'd been dating since I was 14. To me, they were basically friends, who were male, and it was OK to hold hands, and cuddle or occasionally sneak a kiss when the teachers weren't looking. I did engage in the usual teenage performatively-sexy appearance rituals, but I didn't have any interest in anything except being seen as desirable. I didn't desire anyone in that way until (apparently) pretty late. For all I know, I would have been even later if I wasn't somewhat forced into it.<br />
<br />
Kissing was fun. I learned that making out was also pretty fun, but he wouldn't listen when I griped about his wandering hands. At first, I was plenty assertive about stopping him -- putting his hands where I wanted them to be, around my waist or playing in my hair. But he would always try it again. After long enough, it becomes normal. He jokingly pins your hands down. You fight for a while. He pushes harder. It scares you, even if he's still laughing. The laugh has an edge in it now. You stop fighting. At least he's keeping outside of your bra, mostly. For now.<br />
<br />
His talk was always a lot more explicit than his actions. He'd talk about doing very sexual things, and it did turn me on, but I didn't want to break my promises to the church or disappoint my Mom. I didn't want to be "one of those girls," or for anyone to think I was.<br />
<br />
I successfully managed to never do <i>everything</i> he wanted to, but I still did a lot of things I didn't want to. There was so much conflict in my head -- I was still the church girl saving herself for marriage, but <i>there were some compromises to be made </i>because it was your fault if you couldn't keep your man. He wanted handjobs. I was awful at it. He wanted to go down on me for what seemed like hours, and he would go into a rage if I tried to stop him. Once he played with a knife while he played with me, running it over my arm, chest, tummy. I don't actually remember how I got out of that one. I think I may have dissociated at some point. And the shamefulness of it -- when you feel like you're transgressing against God Himself, and you're so terrified of the man in front of you -- but your body betrays you by feeling so much pleasure anyway.<br />
<br />
He'd go back and forth between being super sweet, bringing me a flower or some candy, playing romantic music for me -- and raging -- I can't remember everything he'd get mad about. Usually, that I was somehow worthless or stupid, or I was cheating on him. I was a whore, I was lying to him -- I wasn't allowed to talk to other guys. My group of friends was very much a motley group of boys and girls, so I didn't stop hanging out with all of them -- I was just careful that he wasn't anywhere near when I did.<br />
<br />
One day, we went to some fair or festival in town, I forget which one. He couldn't drive yet, and I could. His hand was somewhat hastily bandaged, and he was still boiling under his surface. He yelled at me while we were there, and I had enough and dropped him back at his house.<br />
<br />
The reason his hand was bandaged: He'd run out of his Mom's house and punched out a garage window, because I wouldn't go down on him. I patched him up, didn't tell anyone, and I didn't say no after that.<br />
<br />
This went on for almost nine months. I couldn't be convinced he was abusing me, because he never hit me. The end, though, was every bit as explosive and dramatic as everything else had been. It was senior awards day at school. One of my -- male -- friends from marching band was awarded a big, fat scholarship. All of us were excited and hugging. He walked in at exactly the wrong time. He yelled at me, called me a whore, and stormed off. I burst into tears right in front of all my friends, and they wouldn't let me chase after him, to try and de-escalate him like I always had. He punched a hole in the wall of the school, and was escorted off the grounds by police.<br />
<br />
And that's the first time someone I was dating wound up in a 72-hour psychiatric hold.<br />
<br />
For some reason, the broken window didn't break his hold on me. Probably because nobody else saw that incident -- but there was no hiding this one. My friends all heavily discouraged ever even seeing him again, now that they could undeniably see how bad he was. My parents forbid it. But we went to the same, very small, high school. He was released before my graduation, and I saw him in the halls a few more times. Even having been through all that, and even after I'd told him to fuck off when he tried to call me on the phone while he was still locked up... He still got one last kiss. He said he wanted another chance. I actually told him I was <i>sorry</i> I couldn't give him that. (He went on to date the girl who -- of course! -- he was cheating on me with. I heard a rumor that he beat her during their relationship.)<br />
<br />
Even years later, even with David who would never dream of violating me or pushing me to do anything in bed when I don't want to... I have still said yes, at least once, when I didn't actually mean it. Inside my head, I still hear <i>if you really loved me, you'd do it. </i>With the exception of actual intercourse, every first sexual encounter in my life was because I was afraid of what might happen if I didn't. Every time, a piece of you dies. Until you're a ghost in your own bed.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.thehotline.org/is-this-abuse/" target="_blank">The National Domestic Violence Hotline - Is This Abuse?</a><br />
<a href="https://www.rainn.org/national-resources-sexual-assault-survivors-and-their-loved-ones" target="_blank">RAINN: National Resources For Sexual Abuse Survivors and their Loved Ones</a><br />
<a href="https://www.womenshealth.gov/relationships-and-safety/get-help/state-resources" target="_blank">Resources By State</a>LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-36734568457503955642019-01-23T07:30:00.000-06:002019-01-23T08:07:18.769-06:00Bat's Top Five: 5 Blogs I Highly Recommend In 2019<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZAdHEh25NFKkv1Gc9sc-2-iyOTQFgpoUKrVA8kznI9MCdhrBeDKtTES4shgFu-WsrOJJ7INYl3P0V7N5H8mEkHPUpPxWVQFVyetgWj35g9XWiShab2WYu0CGRVYiI3jht449gC0BrrlAX/s1600/crone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZAdHEh25NFKkv1Gc9sc-2-iyOTQFgpoUKrVA8kznI9MCdhrBeDKtTES4shgFu-WsrOJJ7INYl3P0V7N5H8mEkHPUpPxWVQFVyetgWj35g9XWiShab2WYu0CGRVYiI3jht449gC0BrrlAX/s400/crone.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/fuzzcat/23671979" target="_blank">The Crone, photo by Fuzzcat</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<i>This post contains an affiliate link to a book. If you click on a link and make a purchase, I may receive compensation. It's my continuing promise to never, ever recommend anything that I don't personally love.</i><br />
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Happy Wednesday, y'all!<br />
<br />
During my unintended hiatus last week, I caught up on a little reading. So at least I feel like I accomplished <i>something</i>. Besides polishing off <a href="https://amzn.to/2MqP5NH" target="_blank">another chapter of crone archetypes for the winter season</a>, I caught up on some of my favorite bloggers that I've recently followed. I'm pleased to say it was very difficult to narrow it down to five!<br />
<br />
1. <a href="https://rabidhole.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">And She Stumbled Down The Rabid Hole</a><br />
She blogs about several things, including a variety of musical interests, horror and macabre aesthetics, and fashion - especially gothic spins on eco-fashion.<br />
<br />
A favorite post: <a href="https://rabidhole.wordpress.com/2019/01/08/diy-cotton-pads/" target="_blank">DIY Cotton Pads</a> (black, of course)<br />
<br />
<i>Whenever I apply or wash off my makeup I use cotton pads. Almost every day. I came across the idea of making your own pads out of old clothes/other fabric somewhere in the deep end of pinterest and it felt easy enough to try out. Since I wear my clothes until they fall apart and are not suitable for donations, this seems like the perfect way to repurpose stuff I already have.</i><br />
<br />
2. <a href="https://absinthemindedgirl.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Coffee Or Suicide</a><br />
Angela gets <i>so fucking real</i> in her writing about mental illness. No bullshit curated-for-the-camera life here. In her own words, "because life is hilarious and excruciating. Worth living."<br />
<br />
A favorite post: <a href="https://absinthemindedgirl.wordpress.com/2019/01/09/mission-1-0/" target="_blank">Mission 1.0</a><br />
<br />
<i>If we talk about people we love who hurt us, awful things we’ve done to other humans, and all the ways we try to forget or heal it, we make a sound. We howl to our pack, call to our tribe. We stop being Alone.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Alone is when suicide comes like cancer. It’s a shadow that shows up, the dark spot that takes some people out. I wish those kinds of thoughts on no one, and I don’t fancy myself unique for having them.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
3. <a href="http://www.obscuraundead.com/" target="_blank">Obscura Undead</a><br />
This is a group effort, and God, I'm so thankful for it. I may or may not get brave enough to submit some guest content for them someday. Topics include music, music, and MORE music (This blog is legit goth AF, so the music comes first) and some DIY fashion.<br />
<br />
Some favorite posts (I had to pick 2):<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li><a href="http://www.obscuraundead.com/blog/2019/1/10/diy-up-cycle-2-3-methods-for-creating-tee-shirts" target="_blank">DIY Upcycle: 3 Methods For Creating Tee Shirts</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.obscuraundead.com/blog/2018/12/23/a-last-minute-gift-buyers-guide-to-the-best-music-of-2018" target="_blank">A Last Minute Gift Buyer's Guide to the Best Music of 2018</a></li>
</ul>
<div>
4. <a href="http://carolinesometimes.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Caroline Sometimes</a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Caroline is one of the writers for Obscura Undead, in addition to writing her own blog. I've had the pleasure of getting to talk with her in chat after I joined the <a href="https://discordapp.com/invite/6TvVxRw" target="_blank">Gothy</a> server on Discord - and I cannot say enough good things about that community! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Caroline's zest for life and music is contagious, which is part of why this is nowhere near the first time someone's recommended her blog. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Some favorite posts:</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li><a href="http://carolinesometimes.blogspot.com/2018/12/the-resurrection-of-tamagotchis.html" target="_blank">The Resurrection of Tamagotchis</a></li>
<li><a href="http://carolinesometimes.blogspot.com/2018/11/norwegian-crash-course.html" target="_blank">Norwegian Crash Course!</a></li>
<li><a href="http://carolinesometimes.blogspot.com/2018/11/goth-vs-gothic.html" target="_blank">Goth Vs. Gothic</a></li>
</ul>
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5. <a href="http://spashionista.com/" target="_blank">Spashionista</a></div>
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Alicia is an iconic part of the Nashville style scene. She hasn't updated her blog for a while, which I find worrying - I hope she's doing OK. Bloggers come and go, so maybe she's just found a different pursuit. I hope she comes back, if that is something she wants to do. In the meantime, her posts go back to 2012, and she's an exceptional fashion blogger in her own right. She writes with an eye on fashion being fun for everyone regardless of mobility or ability - "<a href="http://spashionista.com/about/" target="_blank">Fashion is for every body.</a>" Her posts touch on personal style, acting for positive social change, life in Nashville, and the facts of living with Choreoathetotic Cerebal Palsy.</div>
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A favorite post: <a href="http://spashionista.com/index/2016/9/16/fashion-is-for-every-body-we-did-it" target="_blank">Fashion Is For Every Body: We Did It</a></div>
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<div>
<i>We did it. Krystle Ramos and I managed to bring together ten designers (including an adaptive clothing company), two vintage clothing boutiques, 20 models and a staff of over 30 wardrobe stylists, makeup artists, hair stylists, photographers, and volunteers. Together with abrasive Media we put on a five-runway fashion show with the help of a great DJ and the music and fashion influences of David Bowie. </i></div>
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<i>We proved to a sold out room and over a live stream to hundreds more that Fashion is for Every Body.</i></div>
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What are your favorite recent reads? Feel free to share!</div>
LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-26398303676146637902019-01-21T10:01:00.002-06:002019-01-21T10:10:30.145-06:00Pieces<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9eFmuMSiQoBO5s2k72NnaG8XbcirpcWACwRzJcAB6K7xKjkwIwaqO_Iftz0By0vapiSf-BvSlsMCGN1IYKj5pz43b7BgnWXuUdw56jFh65XJ5wvmYKisVCxYndd38J62RCxIlQLZeh3O2/s1600/IMG_20190111_152335579.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9eFmuMSiQoBO5s2k72NnaG8XbcirpcWACwRzJcAB6K7xKjkwIwaqO_Iftz0By0vapiSf-BvSlsMCGN1IYKj5pz43b7BgnWXuUdw56jFh65XJ5wvmYKisVCxYndd38J62RCxIlQLZeh3O2/s400/IMG_20190111_152335579.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I haven't taken any full outfit photos lately, so here are some pieces. <br />
Boots with leggings were in the uniform. This was Friday the 11th.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
Guess what! I'm mildly depressed -- <i>And I'm happy about it!</i><br />
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I wasn't happy about it when I couldn't figure out what the malaise was for the last couple of weeks that made it damn near impossible to write and keep up on my blog schedule. David was supportive - If you need a break, you need a break, he said. I'm me, though, so I saw it as an unacceptable setback. I asked my shrink what the hell was wrong with me - why am I tired all the time again, but not in a way that it seems like any sleep will help? Why does it feel like it's right in my bones and my soul?<br />
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"You're depressed," she said.<br />
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What? No, that's not what this is. I'm not struggling at work. I'm not missing any work. I'm not bursting into tears at random, sleeping an entire day, or drinking any whole bottles of wine by myself. I'm mostly functioning -- I'm just annoyed about it.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgteLqtw-AtOm0emSBUfz3kT8vbc-8_Oiit3j3PLRPAElRROZjmtBQ4-p56pll2COcFk3IiZ_QfDrGVZTUx_QlLeNoOeqS-sRGoa3KZJZT-Fub8n8iZX0BbfebtoDY6ZDbLFW1dX9RePgKK/s1600/IMG_20190117_091116494_BURST000_COVER_TOP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgteLqtw-AtOm0emSBUfz3kT8vbc-8_Oiit3j3PLRPAElRROZjmtBQ4-p56pll2COcFk3IiZ_QfDrGVZTUx_QlLeNoOeqS-sRGoa3KZJZT-Fub8n8iZX0BbfebtoDY6ZDbLFW1dX9RePgKK/s400/IMG_20190117_091116494_BURST000_COVER_TOP.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thursday the 17th. It's gotten ridiculously cold, so the fleece <br />
leggings I got on clearance at Walmart after Halloween were necessary.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
Wait. WOW. <i>I am depressed! </i>It's just that I hadn't had an episode in almost a year, and it's milder than I've dealt with in probably over a third of my life. It seems that mild depression is unrecognizable when you'd been living in severe-depression survival mode for over a decade.<br />
<br />
So, now I know. My struggles were not just environmental. I have damn near everything I've ever wanted in my life, and I'm positioned well to receive the rest by the time I'm 40. I'm still depressed right now. A year and a half ago, I had plenty to be depressed about. Now, there's nothing. My brain chemistry just flipped the bird at me randomly. This time, I might be able to fight back with just more therapy appointments and some vitamin D supplements. I'm also trying 5-HTP to see if that helps any. The void can stare at me all it wants, but I'm not falling back into its arms this time.<br />
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A terrible snowstorm was predicted for Saturday, so we planned an indoor day. There was French toast and sci-fi and cuddling. It mostly iced instead of snowing. Gross. I've stopped planning birthday parties after so many getting snowed out in the last 34 years.<br />
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Sunday, we picked up the engagement bling I've been so impatient for. Shelby at the Jared store on the north side of Indianapolis is a delight, and I'd recommend her to anyone.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQNnHHsf9RMnOX0jv6pUZC88GL_vDKI7jSc5DVHrv0zkzF57N_35Evji9DsRyW69q27iObIAArbTREkILWwQuCoWZD7AyNN8eBtZe5PRLLvoacIOeNYpNIwDAi0FA74g9VJrAoZz1d-Fyy/s1600/IMG_20190120_172251_833.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="897" data-original-width="897" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQNnHHsf9RMnOX0jv6pUZC88GL_vDKI7jSc5DVHrv0zkzF57N_35Evji9DsRyW69q27iObIAArbTREkILWwQuCoWZD7AyNN8eBtZe5PRLLvoacIOeNYpNIwDAi0FA74g9VJrAoZz1d-Fyy/s400/IMG_20190120_172251_833.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I friggin' love my ring so much! Worth the wait!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Y'all, it's so real right now.<br />
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I've got more writing to catch up on. Take care of yourselves, get enough vitamin D, and have a good week!LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-83787909517465626992019-01-19T13:31:00.000-06:002019-01-19T13:31:02.318-06:00This is 34, and we have a winner!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqwGuxKjXqyP-v8MWeVNHVv6Ueoi37Tm1j4f_rozJ-qaq9QxDhngeCRO0PrnMWEgq0PeP5cvH_OZnCMRQVgCFtz2fmhIdEGJAZkl4PVtAKpuiZkPdLORylEfYgcuATkt6DE39a_zAvuImn/s1600/cupcake.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="504" data-original-width="517" height="389" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqwGuxKjXqyP-v8MWeVNHVv6Ueoi37Tm1j4f_rozJ-qaq9QxDhngeCRO0PrnMWEgq0PeP5cvH_OZnCMRQVgCFtz2fmhIdEGJAZkl4PVtAKpuiZkPdLORylEfYgcuATkt6DE39a_zAvuImn/s400/cupcake.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Hey y'all! I made it to 34! My love gave me a cupcake and then fixed breakfast for me, him, and Bonus Kid. It's icy out, so we're having a delightfully lazy day in. I'm just watching bad sci-fi while working to schedule some posts for next week. Bonus Kid is playing games in his room, and David is making the kitchen smell amazing, because I asked for stew with plenty of potatoes for dinner.<br />
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That's not what you're looking for, is it. You wanna know <a href="https://granolabat.blogspot.com/2018/12/i-turn-34-in-month-help-me-throw-great.html" target="_blank">who got the goods in the birthday drawing</a>.<br />
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Congratulations, Jessica Love!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-0Gklsmnc4xVpxinistPcJHmTcQqWKwPMrWJ9UxvGxy23qlLpSpoCObBXKGiXcwujZ2fRFt4uoWa8B8zkvW3NDAZlHxRnms8BFE4MhEIC2-hjBlSztzeCeygTChUyoGfz5fIuNVUKxHrv/s1600/winner.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="153" data-original-width="354" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-0Gklsmnc4xVpxinistPcJHmTcQqWKwPMrWJ9UxvGxy23qlLpSpoCObBXKGiXcwujZ2fRFt4uoWa8B8zkvW3NDAZlHxRnms8BFE4MhEIC2-hjBlSztzeCeygTChUyoGfz5fIuNVUKxHrv/s320/winner.PNG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Jessica! You're getting the latest Dead Can Dance CD, Dionysis! Please send <a href="https://www.facebook.com/granolabatblog" target="_blank">the Facebook page</a> a message letting me know if you'd like this in the mail or email, and which address or email address to send it to. Thanks so much for liking the page on Facebook.</div>
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Thanks to everyone who participated in the very first drawing we've ever done! Please be on the lookout for future promotions. </div>
LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-24956480703728608102019-01-11T08:00:00.000-06:002019-01-11T08:00:13.545-06:00Sometimes a breakthrough looks like a breakdown, part 2: We accept the love we think we deserve.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>I started this series in 2017 on <a href="https://elsielearnstolive.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">a blog I don't even write anymore</a>, then brought it here in May of 2018, intending to finish the second and third parts. And there it sat. I couldn't figure out why I was so blocked on trying to write the next chapters.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>And then September happened. And then the New Year's proposal from David happened, and there was my answer: I couldn't write the story, because it hadn't concluded yet. It's time. This series will continue every other Friday until its conclusion.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<a href="https://granolabat.blogspot.com/2018/09/sometimes-breakthrough-looks-like.html" target="_blank">Click For Part One</a><br />
<br />
Pretty much all my life, I accepted a crappy excuse for love because I didn't <i>viscerally </i>know, within and without, that I deserved better and could do better. That was step 1. It took over 25 years.<br />
<br />
<b>You can say you know something, or believe something. But if it isn't written onto your heart, your heart will betray you in every test, every time.</b><br />
<br />
I was deeply traumatized by two events in quick succession: <a href="https://www.tristatehomepage.com/news/25th-anniversary-of-petersburg-tornado/149418322" target="_blank">The tornado of 1990</a> ripped apart the entire physical world that I knew. That same year, my parents split. Every aspect of the only physical and emotional world I'd ever known was destroyed before I hit first grade. Nothing was safe. Anything could be broken. I wasn't even six years old.<br />
<br />
Dad got with my stepmother and left my Mom in exactly the wrong order. His wandering had everything to do with where he was as a person at that time, and nothing to do with me or my brother doing anything wrong. The first man I ever loved didn't <i>really</i> abandon me. It's just that, decades later, I still have a fractured relationship with him, and a hard time forgiving the abandonment, the heartbreak, he <i>didn't mean</i> to make me feel.<br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>If it isn't written on your heart...</b></i><br />
<br />
I wasn't the most well-adjusted kid, but I mostly did OK.When I was in high school and starting to date, I was much prettier than I knew, and society's messages, that how desirable-looking you were was mostly what mattered, had sunk into their target.<br />
<br />
I fell in with some fundamentalist Christian friends, and the Church's messages of submission and sexual purity hit the target that had been groomed for them. I signed the pledge; I wore the purity ring. <a href="https://bust.com/sex/194437-the-purity-problem.html" target="_blank">I fared about as well as most girls who did</a>. <i>Sex was the most powerful power you had, but you'd better only share it within marriage. And you'd better cater enough in the household, be sexy enough, be available enough, to your man. If you wander, you're a loose, soiled Jezebel. If he wanders, you should have done better at keeping him. <b>Man is the representation of God in your household, woman is the church.</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>It's your fault if he leaves - And i</b></i><i><b>f he doesn't love you, who will?</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
Love never meant safety. Love never meant unconditional. I had to give enough, comply enough, to keep earning it.<br /><br />
There are many wolf-men in this world, waiting to feast on the wounded. Three of them found me.<br />
<br />
<i>The next part of this will probably be the most personal and difficult thing I've ever written. Series will continue January 25.</i>LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-51304686080204819912019-01-09T11:21:00.001-06:002019-01-09T11:26:30.742-06:00Huzzah, first milestone met! Someone's getting some free music!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_9ND7WQmh6vd84WJBe2sD9p73LZwcBu-Jta3SLbIgVgHc9IklRU7owRzgqK2Pan1sblFLrblbRe6PY1jhxJTPXD04660TKcOmsap_T2c3elKPsqcRf26eB33AIrB_tDeSPs-CbyaZJdao/s1600/happybatedit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="351" data-original-width="468" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_9ND7WQmh6vd84WJBe2sD9p73LZwcBu-Jta3SLbIgVgHc9IklRU7owRzgqK2Pan1sblFLrblbRe6PY1jhxJTPXD04660TKcOmsap_T2c3elKPsqcRf26eB33AIrB_tDeSPs-CbyaZJdao/s1600/happybatedit.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I said <a href="https://granolabat.blogspot.com/2018/12/i-turn-34-in-month-help-me-throw-great.html" target="_blank">I'm going to give away some Dead Can Dance</a> if we hit 100 likes on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/granolabatblog" target="_blank">the Facebook page</a>, and I meant it! Yesterday, we busted through that goal. And if we get to 200 in the next 10 days, I'll give away two copies! The drawing will be on my birthday, January 19.<br />
<br />
To stay first in line for updates on the blog -- Including future giveaways and special offerings! -- <a href="https://mailchi.mp/d979a04dce87/granolabatsignup" target="_blank">click here</a> to subscribe. Thanks for being here from the beginning as I work to build a fun and empowered community here!<br />
<br />
🖤🦇🖤<br />
LCLC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-78930301535181845472019-01-07T08:00:00.000-06:002019-01-09T11:51:58.518-06:00Daywalker Dressing: BunheadI seem to be making a habit of photographing my casual-Friday outfits. The increased leeway on a Friday is fun to play in - and it's different for me than for most of the office, since I rarely wear jeans, or even pants. Dresses are more comfortable to me.<br />
<br />
How do you increase the comfort-level on a casual Friday when you're already not wearing pants? You get to incorporate some graphic T's, or even a sweatshirt, if it's elevated. Playing with soft textures is a treat. And you don't care quite so much about your bun being perfect - especially when a cute silk scarf will distract or cover up a bump or stray hair.<br />
<br />
Depending on the workplace, some legwarmers may be welcome on a cold day. I've had a love-hate relationship with the things, but I just got <a href="https://amzn.to/2CS30ZP" target="_blank">the best pair</a>, and I cannot stop wearing them. They're so soft, and they stretch enough to go over my thick thighs, but they stay in place. They've held up very well to me wearing them almost constantly at home over the last couple of months, and they really do keep your legs warm for the chilly walk from your car, when tights alone won't do the job. Even if you can't get by with wearing them in your workplace, they're worth it for the extra warmth on the commute. Then, just toss them in your purse.<br />
<br />
I'm glad Friday was chill. It's necessary to ease back into the regular grind after a lot of travel, a series of parties, and way too much rich food. How have you adjusted back to the normal working schedule?<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_e9CTSs1mC4KiNhhKkzYx3MCAL6Gm00Rxfg6u9ytn4nOk-xsIKrc92q3rHDw-v7bbMAO4J7iCu-P7MGbFULCN4p2HbPMcVxN90tLE7p0r-tFGXpMpv4FLC3QYFsrIKBi8E0KumfjmGzxS/s1600/IMG_20190104_122645043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="821" data-original-width="462" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_e9CTSs1mC4KiNhhKkzYx3MCAL6Gm00Rxfg6u9ytn4nOk-xsIKrc92q3rHDw-v7bbMAO4J7iCu-P7MGbFULCN4p2HbPMcVxN90tLE7p0r-tFGXpMpv4FLC3QYFsrIKBi8E0KumfjmGzxS/s1600/IMG_20190104_122645043.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Legwarmers - <a href="https://amzn.to/2CS30ZP" target="_blank">Amazon</a>.<br />
Ballet flats - Earth Spirit. (<a href="https://amzn.to/2GVpqgP" target="_blank">similar</a>)<br />
Tights - <a href="https://amzn.to/2LSk6dc" target="_blank">Leg Avenue</a>.<br />
Velvet slipdress - thrifted. (<a href="https://amzn.to/2Fd7bBd" target="_blank">similar</a>)<br />
Sequine sweatshirt - H&M. (<a href="https://amzn.to/2H0lMT4" target="_blank">similar</a>)<br />
Silk scarf - thrifted. (<a href="https://amzn.to/2C4vPAK" target="_blank">similar</a>)<br />
Bat earrings (<a href="https://amzn.to/2scsWcP" target="_blank">similar</a>)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5N1lq092ovG35elw9KNsBoemUoaYEk-UqomQjE0WxIUeYeNSYhl10D2dxzL9E4k4sKuLkM2nzQgzrSupPFWqPOYQSOKZjCxiR2pevb8_QNctwvfdmWbbZ7ERgAz8rUxwSdc8k9EIQOfXM/s1600/IMG_20190104_122520049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="821" data-original-width="462" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5N1lq092ovG35elw9KNsBoemUoaYEk-UqomQjE0WxIUeYeNSYhl10D2dxzL9E4k4sKuLkM2nzQgzrSupPFWqPOYQSOKZjCxiR2pevb8_QNctwvfdmWbbZ7ERgAz8rUxwSdc8k9EIQOfXM/s1600/IMG_20190104_122520049.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I got the bat earrings from a local artist at <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/331045694122397/" target="_blank">Bones and Cones</a> - I feel so bad that I don't remember her name! Her work is so good! Please, if you recognize her work, let me know so I can give proper credit.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJTx570f_GGo83xgsPiJ6D6Cc2KEWuTafCntVJcjWdFvcGYCRsE2TYbIR1Ijpvfu3v4IrdVyIcbX_wOUY0Pufp4wVa4TCf5TBV0bG54UzD0J-E3hU4UK5VTgNNi5rVWS3M03aYwTcvaunu/s1600/IMG_20190104_122723505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="648" data-original-width="365" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJTx570f_GGo83xgsPiJ6D6Cc2KEWuTafCntVJcjWdFvcGYCRsE2TYbIR1Ijpvfu3v4IrdVyIcbX_wOUY0Pufp4wVa4TCf5TBV0bG54UzD0J-E3hU4UK5VTgNNi5rVWS3M03aYwTcvaunu/s1600/IMG_20190104_122723505.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxLCjZOgvLiMKqRboY85diAONBZY0hvLzfDU6bNtC7AN1_BnGJzpN1zEOgn8kYcLHrse49gGUdjuehSl6gkSWWeGuYlvrCbMQ5k1Ik5LDcNweklT5suvMi3UQqBPLGu07N-V_rHWGnWkip/s1600/IMG_20190104_122036156.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxLCjZOgvLiMKqRboY85diAONBZY0hvLzfDU6bNtC7AN1_BnGJzpN1zEOgn8kYcLHrse49gGUdjuehSl6gkSWWeGuYlvrCbMQ5k1Ik5LDcNweklT5suvMi3UQqBPLGu07N-V_rHWGnWkip/s400/IMG_20190104_122036156.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">a closer look at the textures playing nicely together.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCqJ6tL6-HYhPXlWBZNgSoFnpUBHVtrmyDVq9MZw-I0vhGqfplDEp1RvLowEaNqJrWaAbDTdAJ1QP-EfITeRdelEg6-Pltcupl3AdAtE9Uk3XetammM_fvd879J858uBPaEsR97GQUz6-r/s1600/IMG_20190104_122844938.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="607" data-original-width="365" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCqJ6tL6-HYhPXlWBZNgSoFnpUBHVtrmyDVq9MZw-I0vhGqfplDEp1RvLowEaNqJrWaAbDTdAJ1QP-EfITeRdelEg6-Pltcupl3AdAtE9Uk3XetammM_fvd879J858uBPaEsR97GQUz6-r/s1600/IMG_20190104_122844938.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was self conscious, because I'm not wearing a stitch of makeup other than eyebrow <br />
pencil. But any moment like this is an opportunity to push back against unrealistic <br />
beauty standards, so screw it. Let's do this.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b><i>SHOP THE LOOK: </i></b><br />
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</iframe><br />
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<br /></div>
Linkups:<br />
<!-- START SHOPPING MY CLOSET'S "Style Me Wednesday" LINK-UP BADGE -->
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<a href="http://www.shoppingmycloset.com/">
<img alt="Shopping My Closet" src="http://i.imgur.com/8SDfJVS.jpg" style="max-width: 100%;" title="Shopping My Closet" />
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<!-- END SHOPPING MY CLOSET'S "Style Me Wednesday" LINK-UP BADGE -->LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-23236398901681624112019-01-04T08:00:00.000-06:002019-01-04T08:00:02.016-06:00Friday light reads - what I'm reading today<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1qwJ7Rl8BTE8YR5ebYTlrBJyIJpSgVRSKxAPK92Xsv_H3V4Mrx_rZwsAUW_YPG7g9GMcU6jA6IHGcxLo8rfQN17u5W8XSR49rVne8QnOwq1OrT9aTLOlEdad2yV2oqWJFv7LNtC0vuble/s1600/IMG_20190102_203807.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="679" data-original-width="1600" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1qwJ7Rl8BTE8YR5ebYTlrBJyIJpSgVRSKxAPK92Xsv_H3V4Mrx_rZwsAUW_YPG7g9GMcU6jA6IHGcxLo8rfQN17u5W8XSR49rVne8QnOwq1OrT9aTLOlEdad2yV2oqWJFv7LNtC0vuble/s640/IMG_20190102_203807.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">“Anyway, if you stop tellin' people it's all sorted out after they're dead, they might try sorting it all out while they're alive.” ― Terry Pratchett, Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i><br /></i>
<i>This post contains affiliate links. If you click a link and make a purchase, I may receive compensation.</i><br />
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<div>
Getting back into a routine after a bunch of holidays and a surgery is so fun!</div>
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<div>
(Narrator voice: It was not fun at all.)</div>
<div>
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<div>
I do like to share reading lists - articles, posts from fellow bloggers, poems, and books. I unfortunately got out of the habit. Let's fix that.</div>
<div>
<br />
<ul>
<li>The Closet Feminist: <a href="http://www.theclosetfeminist.ca/best-of-self-help/" target="_blank">Best Of Self Help</a> </li>
</ul>
This is a little bit of a misnomer - most of the books listed are memoirs, but TCF has noted they help somethng in the inner self - and broken them down into sections depending on what ails you. Burned-out activist? There's books for that. Need to laugh? There's a book for that. Just feeling off and need comfort or encouragement? Yep. I haven't read very much on here - but I'm fixing to change that.<br /><ul>
<li>The Life On Purpose Movement: <a href="https://ericalayne.co/simple-decluttering-tip/" target="_blank">The Ridiculously Simple Decluttering Tip Too Many People Are Missing</a></li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
<i>Create an official place for donation items (or items that otherwise need re-homed), and make sure every member of your household knows where it is. It’s amazing how this easy tactic can make editing your belongings a regular part of your family’s routine.</i></div>
<div>
*glances at my bursting donation bag* Now to actually drop all this crap off.<br />
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<ul>
<li>WITCH Magazine: <a href="https://badwitch.es/when-shadow-season-stretches-into-the-new-year-stay-with-yourself-in-deep-love/" target="_blank">When The Shadow Season Stretches Into The New Year </a></li>
</ul>
<br />
<i>“End it right now, walk away, this is toxic” etc., etc.<br />And truth be told, yes, I was emotionally getting drained, it was showing physically in my body, and I had moved far away from my center. Certainly proving it was every bit toxic.</i></div>
<div>
<i><br />But, and yet, still, I held on. I was aware of my weakness that led me to stay on.</i></div>
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<i>And it is important to identify this- the weaknesses that make us stay stuck in old, damaging patterns.</i></div>
<div>
<i><br />But there was also something else.</i><br />
<ul>
<li>The Spooky Vegan: <a href="http://www.thespookyvegan.com/2019/01/my-top-10-horror-movies-of-2018.html" target="_blank">My Top 10 Horror Movies of 2018 </a></li>
</ul>
<br />
<ul>
<li>Wardrobe Oxygen: <a href="https://www.wardrobeoxygen.com/2019/01/personal-style-getting-older.html" target="_blank">Honing Your Personal Style As You Age</a></li>
</ul>
I feel like Sophistique Noir was an absolute gem and wellspring of wisdom for taking ourselves from Hot Topic tweener to fresh, mature, and professional without sacrificing any of our essence. Alas, she isn't blogging anymore. I haven't found any such good resource in her absence - but Allison at Wardrobe Oxygen has been one of my blogger role models for years, and these tips can be adapted for those of us whose go-to neutrals are black more black. Swapping out some of the cheap fishnet layering shirts for diaphanous silk, for example.<br />
<br />
Books I'm reading this month:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li><a href="https://amzn.to/2SAIGlc" target="_blank">Neverwhere</a> - Neil Gaiman</li>
<li><a href="https://amzn.to/2RpM6dm" target="_blank">Goddesses In Older Women</a> - Jean Shinoda Bolen</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
On the list for 2019:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li><a href="https://amzn.to/2Vs1ogI" target="_blank">Good Omens</a> - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett (I simply must re-read this. It's been a while.)</li>
<li><a href="https://amzn.to/2C2Rlps" target="_blank">Year Of Yes</a> - Shonda Rimes</li>
<li><a href="https://amzn.to/2BWYXKo" target="_blank">The Book of the Cailleach: Stories of the Wise Woman Healer</a> - Gearóid Ó Crualaoich</li>
<li><a href="https://amzn.to/2R557CD" target="_blank">Meeting Faith: The Forest Journals of a Black Buddhist Nun</a> - Faith Adiele (another re-read. This was one of my favorites from my college days.)</li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
And I'm sure this list will grow considerably.<br />
<br />
What are you reading today?<br />
<br /></div>
LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-611160826994924472019-01-02T12:17:00.001-06:002019-01-09T11:52:16.543-06:00New year, big news! <i>(content note: flashing image - don't proceed if you have a seizure disorder that may be triggered.)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>This post contains affiliate links. If you click a link and make a purchase, I may receive compensation.</i><br />
<br />
What a great beginning to the year it's all ready been! Dears, I have news that probably surprises absolutely nobody: We got engaged during New Years! Not quite so cliche' as during Christmas, and who'd care anyway?<br />
<br />
The ring is picked, but is expected to take a month to order in - so I'm going to be counting the days 'til I can show that beauty off! I don't really care about the ring, though - I care about the man. He surprised me with the absolutely sweetest card:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJu8U8Si5LR-VKWkRBn2e8wpWDvXOPpmMgxmnV1SSocBz1Q7UVVQpLxf66KxksX65g0JY2yxiFsfGjrASYXP0lH6jpuI9CJphDxlUBepVDHaJOYGRq_WvkSORGWL7nrOJWp9bNUNrWcBf/s1600/IMG_20181231_225825893.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJu8U8Si5LR-VKWkRBn2e8wpWDvXOPpmMgxmnV1SSocBz1Q7UVVQpLxf66KxksX65g0JY2yxiFsfGjrASYXP0lH6jpuI9CJphDxlUBepVDHaJOYGRq_WvkSORGWL7nrOJWp9bNUNrWcBf/s640/IMG_20181231_225825893.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BRB, crying forever.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div>
He hates to write, y'all. He dislikes it about as much as I enjoy it. But he knows it's something important to me and a means of communication that deeply speaks to me, so that's how he chose to propose. And I think he did a great job. Needless to say, my <a href="https://evernote.com/" target="_blank">Evernote</a> and my <a href="https://www.pinterest.com/Granolabat/wedding-stuff/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a> runneth over with wedding ideas! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzR3gjHr9UXZA8_RFbFAGidT90HnrL2sDx6D7NMVn4VULEIi2XCJVrwkboSVTWLBczjzfqzAnRLyjtaxrkafxTcli7u5YVwtbBRmh_JP9Vzk6F4AA8ZRx2Fb2OYYbCJ76E00nC4c8K1qsu/s1600/Screenshot_20190101-092152-2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1081" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzR3gjHr9UXZA8_RFbFAGidT90HnrL2sDx6D7NMVn4VULEIi2XCJVrwkboSVTWLBczjzfqzAnRLyjtaxrkafxTcli7u5YVwtbBRmh_JP9Vzk6F4AA8ZRx2Fb2OYYbCJ76E00nC4c8K1qsu/s400/Screenshot_20190101-092152-2.png" width="265" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1FVtlZ7nUKFTl-BGcd8LW6AplNTIIp5UXZzvuJq0irc6uHl2bpe896ept7VRB9IvqdWTmy7df12jOTM8fXETDxtJaQQjfVcYVzzeco6Hw7Q9YZVQPlEVazn_PBtHc5bdsTmc4ZAPhIXIS/s1600/IMG_20181231_232942639.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1140" data-original-width="1600" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1FVtlZ7nUKFTl-BGcd8LW6AplNTIIp5UXZzvuJq0irc6uHl2bpe896ept7VRB9IvqdWTmy7df12jOTM8fXETDxtJaQQjfVcYVzzeco6Hw7Q9YZVQPlEVazn_PBtHc5bdsTmc4ZAPhIXIS/s320/IMG_20181231_232942639.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2op2DyEUCnLrt6k-ppMeZYIVT0r9GYFNx0lJ8OvuxAA3njbhFuSQSp-B3BTzvwETJ3rHD-jAojyT6WXz-BpASWEZ8TQGI8usk4Iv_AWz7EXMFPJZLei5GEw769hACkcvboBRwl5MB1iMB/s1600/IMG_20181231_231612_562.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1371" data-original-width="1371" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2op2DyEUCnLrt6k-ppMeZYIVT0r9GYFNx0lJ8OvuxAA3njbhFuSQSp-B3BTzvwETJ3rHD-jAojyT6WXz-BpASWEZ8TQGI8usk4Iv_AWz7EXMFPJZLei5GEw769hACkcvboBRwl5MB1iMB/s640/IMG_20181231_231612_562.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I wasn't thinking about getting outfit photos, obviously, because we were In The Moment - but I did at least get a mirror-selfie with a bathroom friend (truly, there's no friendlier place than the women's bathroom in a bar! And doesn't that smile of hers light up the whole room?)<br />
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Glitter ears - I don't remember actually! (<a href="https://amzn.to/2s5dWNJ" target="_blank">similar</a>)</div>
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Sweater - thrifted (<a href="https://amzn.to/2RvLjY8" target="_blank">similar</a>)</div>
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T-shirt dress I knotted at the waist to wear as a top - thrifted (<a href="https://amzn.to/2ArVXpb" target="_blank">similar</a>)</div>
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Sequined hotpants - Party City (<a href="https://amzn.to/2AobmGX" target="_blank">similar</a>)</div>
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Sheer black tights - <a href="https://amzn.to/2Rtqe0H" target="_blank">Sheer Energy</a></div>
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Fishnet pattern garter-style tights - <a href="https://amzn.to/2R5OPsS" target="_blank">Amazon</a></div>
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Not pictured - <a href="https://amzn.to/2CKb5zI" target="_blank">these booties</a>, which are a-freaking-mazing and inexpensive.</div>
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Earrings - gifted from my stepmom (<a href="https://amzn.to/2AqXAmW" target="_blank">similar</a>)</div>
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Pentagram pendant with chakra stones - local artisan (<a href="https://amzn.to/2Vx6jx8" target="_blank">similar</a>)</div>
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Earth element triangle necklace - Earthbound Trading Company (<a href="https://amzn.to/2VpgeVp" target="_blank">similar</a>)</div>
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Black heart ring - gifted (<a href="https://amzn.to/2RxV6gI" target="_blank">similar</a>)</div>
Big bling ring - Marshall's (<a href="https://amzn.to/2RrOhgh" target="_blank">similar</a>)<br />
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Stretchy spike bracelet - I don't remember (<a href="https://amzn.to/2RpZtKG" target="_blank">similar</a>)</div>
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Magnetic wrap bracelet - local vendor at a festival (<a href="https://amzn.to/2LOqD8s" target="_blank">similar</a>)</div>
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McQueen knock-off clutch - TJ Maxx (<a href="https://amzn.to/2VpYbhV" target="_blank">similar</a>)</div>
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BUT ENOUGH ABOUT CLOTHES OH MY GOD YOU GUYS, I'M GETTING MARRIED TO MY BEST FRIEND!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOk9VmY8dqPraL5TKiHQ9N1sBVGQeKwA1zPAC-ceD5QoPItN_yfIO7modznC4tQS7vl7-mcg1npPWV3zURETThysYZp8CM1JmVYx4TjMKnRx4U3i43OKLj4MdS97kg4hE6aNqLT1ch11EY/s1600/20190101_121838-ANIMATION.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOk9VmY8dqPraL5TKiHQ9N1sBVGQeKwA1zPAC-ceD5QoPItN_yfIO7modznC4tQS7vl7-mcg1npPWV3zURETThysYZp8CM1JmVYx4TjMKnRx4U3i43OKLj4MdS97kg4hE6aNqLT1ch11EY/s640/20190101_121838-ANIMATION.gif" /></a><br />
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Link Ups: </div>
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<a href="http://www.pastriespumpsandpi.com/2019/01/whos-wearing-wednesdays-193.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="207" data-original-width="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqXjhJnYiKtVUnVUhHbs-EW8rr-7obQ8zAG3AttH3tTJz1nXsxx_rSajzIbz0c74B_w77g_7gDIqxQpA2GnIhCHteQhX9zlGC7ffMICGq3-QeQP189Z3EDu9yX6aTjBqdnh25grNIIG87H/s1600/Linky+party+button+200+x+200.png" /></a></div>
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<img alt="Shopping My Closet" src="http://i.imgur.com/8SDfJVS.jpg" style="max-width: 100%;" title="Shopping My Closet" />
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LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-24680083182881756912018-12-31T08:30:00.000-06:002018-12-31T11:00:15.080-06:00Looking Forward - A gratitude list, and powerful I AM statements for 2019<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
I look back on this year with so much happiness and gratitude. It's been a year of being brave enough for new beginnings, the starts of <i>real healing</i>, laughing 'til I can't breathe, and setting up the way for success and adventure in coming years.<br />
<br />
Every day, I wake up next to the love of my life and get ready to go work with people I like, at a job that lets me use some creativity in updating the company social media and website, and sets my resume up for advancement. My muse has slowly been returning, and it feels so good to create again, both on and off the clock. I'm able to dream big, and plan for 2019 projects that I can't wait to share with you!<br />
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There's restlessness, growing pains, and a lot of traumas and negative mindset-habits to keep outgrowing. Plenty remains to put into tonight's ceremony of symbolically burning away what doesn't serve me. Even that, though, I will frame in gratitude.<br />
<br />
<b>I'm grateful for:</b><br />
<ol>
<li><b>all the friends I've made in these years of life. I fondly wish them goodness in 2019.</b></li>
<li><b>the car that gets me to and from work each day. It's old, it wasn't the color I wanted, and every day it seems like something new breaks. But it does everything I need it to, and it is enough.</b></li>
<li><b>my man who endlessly lets me know he cares for me in so many ways, and who challenges me to be a better person every day.</b></li>
<li><b>my tenacity and ambition never failing me, in all the past dark days and all the future hopeful ones.</b></li>
<li><b>everyone who picked me back up, with kindness, never judgment, in moments I was truly a basket case in the past. There are so many past and present friends whose kindness I try to pay forward - Jessica, Alicia, Jenny, Caroline, Andre, Amanda, Andrea, Gretchen, Duane, Laura, Dustin, more than I can even name here. <i><a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Philippians+1%3A3&version=KJV" target="_blank">Philippians 1:3</a></i> to you all.</b></li>
<li><b>my loving family, without whom I would have been lost long ago.</b></li>
<li><b>the incredible abundance of good-ass music and art in this world.</b></li>
<li><b>the great number of places and wonders on my ever-growing list I want to travel to and adventure in with David during our years together.</b></li>
<li><b>the DIY ethos that's always run through the threads of goth/post-punk/etc fashion. The current arc of consumerism we're gripped by has somewhat obcured that, but I'm grateful that as history unwinds, it is cyclical and we can get back to these roots any time we choose. </b></li>
<li><b>every inspired project spinning in my head for the future. DIY fashion adventures, months' worth of blog post ideas just waiting for their birth, business ideas, and more.</b></li>
</ol>
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And finally, I've mentioned my <a href="https://granolabat.blogspot.com/2018/07/friday-lights-affirmations-that-helped.html" target="_blank">belief in the power of affirmations</a> here before. An especially potent mental-reprogramming tool is the I AM form of affirmation. </div>
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<br /></div>
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I want to be very careful in defining the power of the I AM affirmation - as many "positivity-gurus" are not. I strongly believe that everything that follows an "I am" statement is something your mind takes in and if you're not careful, you'll convince yourself of some pretty untrue and damaging things. Repetition can take a toll, or it can bring a clearer-eyed vision of your inner good and capability. Even something as simple as changing "I'm such an idiot for making that dumb mistake" into "I am soooo batting a thousand today" can make a world of difference. (Yes, even a sarcastic positive statement is still technically a positive statement! You gotta start somewhere!)</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 17.4307px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><i><a href="https://www.successconsciousness.com/positive-affirmations.html" target="_blank">Your words and thoughts program the mind in the same way that commands and scripts program a computer. - Remez Sasson</a></i></b></blockquote>
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I do not think that, simply by saying or thinking something less-than-upbeat, even repeatedly, means that you're inviting more of like into your life from Great Powers within the universe - the corollary being that you've brought the bad on yourself if it happens. The Law of Attraction is just not something I put too much stock in, <i>in that certain way</i> that folks tend to take it. Changing your program if you have a pattern of negative thoughts, though, can change your mindset to help you see opportunities you might not have, for example. You might become brave enough to overcome self-doubt and apply for that dream job, or register for the certification class you'll need to get it some day. I AM statements legitimately change lives from within.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Five I AM statements I'm making for myself as we hit 2019 running:</b></div>
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<ol>
<li><b>I AM kind to my body. I love on it with sustainable exercise practices and appropriately portioned foods, that make it feel good and run well.</b></li>
<li><b>I AM brave enough to launch and follow through on projects that improve my life.</b></li>
<li><b>I AM joyfully and diligently on top of scheduling my agenda of goals, tasks, and social events.</b></li>
<li><b>I AM taking useful, positive action right now.</b></li>
<li><b>I AM asking the right people the right questions for help when I need it.</b></li>
</ol>
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<br />
What are you thankful for from 2018 now that it's behind us? What are you affirming for yourself in the new year?<br />
<br />
<i>A reminder - there's only two weeks left to enter my birthday drawing! Celebrate with me and win <b>free</b> music! <a href="https://granolabat.blogspot.com/2018/12/i-turn-34-in-month-help-me-throw-great.html" target="_blank">Full details here.</a></i></div>
LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-60300501303453578962018-12-28T10:31:00.000-06:002018-12-31T08:27:47.617-06:00Daywalker Dressing: Casual Friday Redneck-Witch-Librarian<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjesKNeDW5wLS9OqlhdKgyWdQA1-bp3HoLF0VnsykxyOItRBLI2URrczV4S-F_ZfK72QVNS_-sAIRmsQYD52ekSVqX9G02R7nILxPxz8gbzc_uQoE6xbkkVY91mrUHtLFzKeYs_z7EhuM2/s1600/IMG_20181228_081630889_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="518" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjesKNeDW5wLS9OqlhdKgyWdQA1-bp3HoLF0VnsykxyOItRBLI2URrczV4S-F_ZfK72QVNS_-sAIRmsQYD52ekSVqX9G02R7nILxPxz8gbzc_uQoE6xbkkVY91mrUHtLFzKeYs_z7EhuM2/s640/IMG_20181228_081630889_2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Well, my roots have been twining around me again. All these complex identities within. Attitudes seem to have gotten more tolerant in recent years, but stereotypically, goths and rednecks have not played well together. Country music is anathema - except for Johnny Cash, who gets a pass into basically every subculture that's taken off in the U.S.<br />
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But that's part of who I am, just as much as riding high on strobe lights in a wave of Siouxsie, Bauhaus, The Sisters of Mercy, and so on. My ancestors moseyed from Virginia through Kentucky, finally settling down in Indiana. My grandparents put "orl" in the car and "warsh" their clothes. I could probably still saddle up a horse, and although I did fight it when I was in college, I still feel damn comfy in a pair of ridin' boots and a flannel shirt.<br />
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The success of bands like <a href="http://www.odeath.net/" target="_blank">O'Death</a>, <a href="https://murderbydeath.com/" target="_blank">Murder By Death</a>, the <a href="http://www.pineboxboys.com/" target="_blank">Pine Box Boys</a>, <a href="http://stonejackjones.com/" target="_blank">Stone Jack Jones</a>, a fair amount of <a href="https://www.lindiortega.com/" target="_blank">Lindi Ortega</a>'s music, <a href="https://www.thosepoorbastards.com/" target="_blank">Those Poor Bastards</a>, and the lingering popularity of the <a href="http://www.johnnycash.com/" target="_blank">Man In Black</a> would indicate that, while not true-goth in any sense, there's a place around here for the darkness winding through Appalachia, the South, and the Old West. The ghostly winds, gnarled trees, old cemeteries, and the soul-whispers of mountain conjure-women can grip your hand and lead you forth, if you let them.<br />
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Then there's shit like <a href="https://www.phoenixnewtimes.com/music/goth-brooks-watch-the-debut-music-video-from-this-very-real-mash-up-band-8308537" target="_blank">Goth Brooks</a>. I don't even know what to say about them.<br />
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Anyway, if I belong with one foot in each coffin, then so be it.<br />
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I work in a place that's somewhat, mercifully, "creative-friendly." My coworkers still cover any tattoos, and I don't take very many liberties since I'm the first face anyone sees when they walk in. In spite of toning down quite a bit during work-hours, I'm still definitely known as the office goth. I did bust out the boots and flannel today. To fight the nip in the air, my trusty argyle sweater that always makes me feel library-chic.<br />
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<i>This post contains affiliate links. If you click a link and make a purchase, I may receive compensation.</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib70tctChaKEGKxzK2RCNfXL7T8c0q3DUKSHsQQheXkk4Ul4e1YiQunidJPtz6o-yWolTNLWSaX_er9t1LSM35-rFtCPAyqkcQWjVLG7G4z0jvWENcRiHPcmQ23sys8ge6XCIqWeV8GTTa/s1600/IMG_20181228_081701900_BURST001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib70tctChaKEGKxzK2RCNfXL7T8c0q3DUKSHsQQheXkk4Ul4e1YiQunidJPtz6o-yWolTNLWSaX_er9t1LSM35-rFtCPAyqkcQWjVLG7G4z0jvWENcRiHPcmQ23sys8ge6XCIqWeV8GTTa/s640/IMG_20181228_081701900_BURST001.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All items are second hand except for the belt and T-shirt.<br />
T-shirt: United States of Indiana Halloween collection. (<a href="https://amzn.to/2BMRxsQ" target="_blank">similar</a>)<br />
Belt: Betsey Johnson (<a href="https://amzn.to/2So7ehd" target="_blank">similar</a>); Argyle sweater (<a href="https://amzn.to/2VfRfDW" target="_blank">similar</a>); Flannel button-up (<a href="https://amzn.to/2Svol0V" target="_blank">similar</a>)<br />
black skinny jeans (<a href="https://amzn.to/2CCRelX" target="_blank">similar</a>); black Western boots (<a href="https://amzn.to/2CCRLUZ" target="_blank">similar</a>)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ_ncj7ddr1owH026JP8gtxlnXZipLp3bS9tYN3Mn-T-5SxTRwHRVrHpN3iycwrR1wRQiM8oinLrEirCpmjh-KT8zf6S3pHpIhsSVil_7deGJNvQW6MEfp4quzhUXrWJLyCPxD9o_WNrPc/s1600/IMG_20181228_102159_956.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1194" data-original-width="1194" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ_ncj7ddr1owH026JP8gtxlnXZipLp3bS9tYN3Mn-T-5SxTRwHRVrHpN3iycwrR1wRQiM8oinLrEirCpmjh-KT8zf6S3pHpIhsSVil_7deGJNvQW6MEfp4quzhUXrWJLyCPxD9o_WNrPc/s400/IMG_20181228_102159_956.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I tend toward pink, mauve, and coral lip colors while at work, and <a href="https://amzn.to/2BNgvbs" target="_blank">Milani Baked blush in Dolce Pink</a> is THE go-to blush for me. <a href="https://amzn.to/2SoQVRr" target="_blank">Flower Beauty lip butter in Rose Petal</a>; hematite bracelet (<a href="https://amzn.to/2Sph8PH" target="_blank">similar</a>) crystal ball stud earrings - gifted (<a href="https://amzn.to/2BKqY7J" target="_blank">similar</a>); raven necklace - local artist (<a href="https://amzn.to/2SuDKi0" target="_blank">similar</a>); glasses - America's Best (<a href="https://amzn.to/2So981j" target="_blank">similar</a>)</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM1DOjeB87BMADKiJJlRx0Ktj43CTDQGi4PWtiWYXSCxRCyu9aBhLsCFNPqDHSVfUvIPcu0piURdjgE-vWiMsuYD-XkHiN6SerlmbiPe-s9RtUWG80jH-lFXu6PZ_LC99oAJztRzyPGg8l/s1600/IMG_20181228_081302390.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM1DOjeB87BMADKiJJlRx0Ktj43CTDQGi4PWtiWYXSCxRCyu9aBhLsCFNPqDHSVfUvIPcu0piURdjgE-vWiMsuYD-XkHiN6SerlmbiPe-s9RtUWG80jH-lFXu6PZ_LC99oAJztRzyPGg8l/s1600/IMG_20181228_081302390.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
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ETA: Welcome, fellow Visible Monday participants! Enjoy your time here. Shout-out to <a href="http://notdeadyetstyle.com/sweet-and-demure-visible-monday" target="_blank">Patti @ Not Dead Yet</a> for another great link-up party. It feels good to be back!LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-44295410317868523952018-12-26T09:20:00.000-06:002018-12-26T09:20:07.733-06:00My top 9 of 2018Y'all, the more I look at my Top 9 for 2018, the more you make me laugh. Check these out with me:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7TwFVwUCAUf07kamlXRIcCJPTpCefks6UbkbyJtNSRu5c_LQfSie88f_0KbDXeV89tLl08ieF2S3SHlTBB901MRwJS2HkthCyD3vJ5s7ksuRVUF4CjMLks8JOpayLvYpmjkLmrSR4senp/s1600/story_0.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1084" data-original-width="1092" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7TwFVwUCAUf07kamlXRIcCJPTpCefks6UbkbyJtNSRu5c_LQfSie88f_0KbDXeV89tLl08ieF2S3SHlTBB901MRwJS2HkthCyD3vJ5s7ksuRVUF4CjMLks8JOpayLvYpmjkLmrSR4senp/s400/story_0.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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Here's what you liked in 2018: </div>
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<ol>
<li>A cupcake menu (in fairness, it's a good list - and I'm always here for dunking on Mike Pence.)</li>
<li>My "I Voted" sticker - hell yes, I'm happy about this one!</li>
<li>Cute couple photo at <a href="https://www.facebook.com/DarknessUnderground/" target="_blank">The Darkness Underground's</a> first Halloween party. I love this one always and forever.</li>
<li>A 90's-era decorative statue that looks suspiciously like a phallus that can swim.</li>
<li>A vanity shot of a hair style that took A Lot Of Time, You Guys.</li>
<li>Sphynx with her titties out</li>
<li>the Stargate in downtown Indianapolis</li>
<li>pretty eye makeup applied poorly</li>
<li>Starburst</li>
</ol>
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To recap, we like sarcastic confections, 90's sci-fi references, selfies, dickfish, and titties. Good job, everyone! What a 2018 it was!</div>
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<a href="https://topnine.co/" target="_blank">If you want to see your own top 9, you can do so here</a>.</div>
LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-22803198393257983782018-12-24T19:36:00.000-06:002018-12-24T19:36:30.736-06:00'Twas the night before Christmas, the hair metal bangin', and cocoa with boozy and mint notes a-slangin'<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBgca1gG8UQni600PjktwbJ2NXglUdIjuzwJRKWoaL6sf8AmnZk7RckcE1WgjBQVJfU2A6z2E7W1-uXk-8eW9xxzMHy71b8CrYhOvnzbxRl-f_7NzBrzWF9MlZKZpqnQCtRFoi8zOtjU8c/s1600/legwarmersandtea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBgca1gG8UQni600PjktwbJ2NXglUdIjuzwJRKWoaL6sf8AmnZk7RckcE1WgjBQVJfU2A6z2E7W1-uXk-8eW9xxzMHy71b8CrYhOvnzbxRl-f_7NzBrzWF9MlZKZpqnQCtRFoi8zOtjU8c/s400/legwarmersandtea.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is not festive chocolate booze-ahol.<br />
This is yerba mate, because I took this pic at 9 am. The cocoa is for after I post this.</td></tr>
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Amazingly, the December holiday season is much more festive when you're not roiled by very recent trauma - who knew?<br />
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Last week, we made thoughtful, relaxing gifts for the people on our list. On Friday, we hit the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/1776637285797222/" target="_blank">Naughty or Nice Bar Crawl</a> thrown by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/DarknessUnderground/" target="_blank">The Darkness Underground</a>. J.L.'s full-fur Krampus costume got us all of the attention, and even some free drinks.<br />
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David and I went considerably more half-assed in attire, because we were tired and we had family things early the next day. My red sweater, black velvet slip dress, fishnets, and black glitter bat-wing headband pulled together into a passable succubus costume, and I thought David's coat made him look a little like a Cenobite. Much fun was had. I definitely hope this becomes an annual event. Now with two successful events under their belt and more plans in progress, The Darkness Underground is one collective to keep following.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFGT5InCnTbp7p3YAbG0nDeo63JilizBRrx7vrtaKjJLscogwMkQrkngrTECgVb7LzKN8yoGIlFAvM2nKI1ZW_8HhTdd691QB-9YQbItMyFgN1YMhHWMPC355DoN8v-OfkZn3I98ANA3yj/s1600/krampus3.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="575" data-original-width="953" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFGT5InCnTbp7p3YAbG0nDeo63JilizBRrx7vrtaKjJLscogwMkQrkngrTECgVb7LzKN8yoGIlFAvM2nKI1ZW_8HhTdd691QB-9YQbItMyFgN1YMhHWMPC355DoN8v-OfkZn3I98ANA3yj/s640/krampus3.PNG" width="640" /></a></div>
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I also made a fun punk, hair metal, EDM, and new wave tinged Christmas playlist to keep on shuffle:<br />
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<iframe allow="encrypted-media" allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="380" src="https://open.spotify.com/embed/user/1211386337/playlist/7kTvEeA2GkZQGvP4RXKkBb" width="300"></iframe><br />
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We've also been watching some of the best, and worst, Christmas movies. Last night (after we drove around looking at Christmas lights when we were kids) we watched Krampus. Today was Santa Claus Conquers The Martians. A girl could get used to this whole concept of actually relaxing on Christmas eve. Tomorrow we do Christmas in Chicago with David's family, and then it's back to the work grind.<br />
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I'm just so very, very thankful. The ability to relax and enjoy Christmas with relatively little lingering PTSD after last year is the only present I'd possibly need, and I got to have it.LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-75482439915400576702018-12-21T08:00:00.000-06:002018-12-26T12:29:39.403-06:00Christmas weekend is upon us! Here are 7 Christmas shows you can agree on with your normie relatives.<i>(Contains affiliate links. I may receive compensation if you click on a link and then make a purchase.)</i><br />
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All of us creepy folks know the struggle:<br />
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You're gonna impale someone on an icicle if you have to watch A Christmas Story one more time. Your family might throw you off the roof if you even suggest The Nightmare Before Christmas or Edward Scissorhands DVD again. What's a family to do? Well, hopefully nobody dies.<br />
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Here are some old classics and new favorites that pretty much everyone can agree on. You're welcome:<br />
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1. Holiday episodes of Nailed It on Netflix - The baking show where all the contestants are intentionally set up to fail, everyone is in on the joke, and if you're not careful, you'll pee yourself laughing. This show has put out 3 seasons in one year. Every one is precious, but they've outdone themselves with their Holiday season. From host Nicole Byer's brash humor and ace fashion and wig game, to co-host Jacques' oh-so-charming French manner, this show is a win-win even when every recipe flops. And I dare you to not smile at contestant Gavin's cat song in episode 1.<br />
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2. <a href="https://amzn.to/2ClIqkE">National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation</a> - it's a classic for a reason. "When Santa squeezes his fat white ass down that chimney tonight, he's gonna find the jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse!" Watch the dysfunction and feel better about your own life choices.<br />
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3. <a href="https://amzn.to/2UUohJx">Die Hard</a> - Don't blow up Christmas. Let Bruce Willis do it for you.<br />
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4. <a href="https://amzn.to/2BsOFBb">Joyeux Noel </a>- Full disclosure: this is my all-time favorite Christmas movie, because I am a thief of joy. It's achingly beautiful, and you can't fight if everyone in the room is sobbing too hard to talk.<br />
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5. <a href="https://amzn.to/2EE4j0X">Gremlins</a> - Oh, the cheese. Goodness gracious. Who doesn't love 80's animatronic carnage? And all these years later, Gizmo is still the damn cutest.<br />
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6. A Very Murray Christmas on Netflix - It's Bill Freaking Murray. If anyone squawks over Bill Murray, put 'em out in the snow - you don't need that kind of negativity in your life.<br />
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7. <a href="https://amzn.to/2SaVJcY">Any or all 3 of the Toy Story movies</a> - Because duh. They're some of the most perfect films ever made.<br />
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And here are a couple flicks in case you got very, very lucky and your family can tolerate a little weirdness. Snuggle up and let your freak flag fly:<br />
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<a href="https://amzn.to/2S7oozG">Krampus</a> - It feels like freakin' every one of those "Hey, it's THAT guy!" actors is in this movie. They play it very straight, but there's no way they weren't self-aware of how hilarious this movie was going to be. From the precious German grandma, to a death match with evil gingerbread men, to Krampus the Christmas Demon in all his direct-to-video quality CG glory, this film is a damn delight to watch.<br />
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<a href="https://amzn.to/2S9sFT4">Toys</a> - The perfection of the soundtrack. Robin Williams. Joan Cusack. The surreal set design. The whole wacked-out, but disturbingly plausible, plot line. There's no getting around the fact this movie is freaking weird - and why would anyone WANT to get around it?<br />
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What's your favorite Christmas-friendly movie? Add on in the comments!<br />
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<br />
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<script src="//z-na.amazon-adsystem.com/widgets/onejs?MarketPlace=US"></script>LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-49561273843555773952018-12-20T08:30:00.000-06:002018-12-20T08:30:05.153-06:00The money merry-go-round before surgery (Also - I finally went to Nocturna!)<i>(Contains affiliate links. I may receive compensation if you make a purchase through a link in this post.)</i><br />
<br />
I'm at 2 weeks and 6 days after <a href="http://granolabat.blogspot.com/2018/12/a-mini-post-im-not-going-to-talk-about.html">the big surgery</a>.<br />
<br />
My aversion to pregnancy and birth has actually gotten so bad that, last weekend, when we walked past the baby clothing section at Meijer and I got a whiff of powdery baby smell, my body rebelled. I quietly retched a couple of times and had to get the hell out of there. Clearly, getting the ol' tubes tied was the right decision. I wonder how long before that particular anxiety finally starts to die.<br />
<br />
Y'all, surgery fucking sucks, just for the record. I only just got back to the gym on Monday, and I'm feeling particularly round and soft. I'm finally back to the point where I can do heavy cleaning activities like running a vacuum, and the chicka-bow-ow action (y'know, the reason I needed the surgery in the first place) is quite tentative at this time. I'm limited in clothing options because there is STILL a little bit of swelling, and the nerve endings in my lower abdomen hate me if I wear jeans that fit. Leggings are OK now. Pantyhose are iffy.<br />
<br />
I did manage to find clothes for goth clubbing Saturday, though! We went to <a href="http://metrochicago.com/event/nocturna-4/">Nocturna</a>. It was lovely. Scary Lady Sarah is always fantastic. The lady knows how to weave a fantasy world with her musical selections. And my God, Metro is a perfectly aesthetic venue for a goth club night. And everyone was so damn gorgeous.<br />
<br />
I especially enjoyed chatting it up with some babygoths age 18 to 22. We have THREE generations of goths now. My cockles are warmed by this.<br />
<br />
Here's your fashion tax - don't judge too hard, OK? I'm still not at 100%.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikH53xqkgKj_HHWqm5Y1hLqqfMV2P9XgjgY4dj0wyAOpn9QhLKiqIhKVZhP3d8awKdQQ9O15SLX2UecqmzqFx9SjKcoLLw5eq_2LAHynAV6wTnSygevUc0LtCgqks7mZhMKu8fhBaJ_bK7/s1600/BeFunky-collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="743" data-original-width="1600" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikH53xqkgKj_HHWqm5Y1hLqqfMV2P9XgjgY4dj0wyAOpn9QhLKiqIhKVZhP3d8awKdQQ9O15SLX2UecqmzqFx9SjKcoLLw5eq_2LAHynAV6wTnSygevUc0LtCgqks7mZhMKu8fhBaJ_bK7/s640/BeFunky-collage.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>(Yes, that's a cat sticker on David's forehead LOL)</i><br />
<br />
Eyeball hair bows: Meijer (<a href="https://amzn.to/2S3eU8E">similar</a>)<br />
T-shirt: United State of Indiana Halloween collection (<a href="https://amzn.to/2Cjomzc">similar</a>)<br />
Skirt: Ragstock (<a href="https://amzn.to/2UNW2fs">similar</a>)<br />
Tights: Walmart Halloween clearance. (<a href="https://amzn.to/2UUaCCf">similar</a>)<br />
Boots: Wish (<a href="https://amzn.to/2BqwlJ7">similar</a>)<br />
Glasses: America's Best (<a href="https://amzn.to/2GpCkDS">similar</a>)<br />
Faux fur backpack - Target (<a href="https://amzn.to/2S9hg5I">similar</a>)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
I'll talk more about the surgery day itself and recovery in a future post. For now, it's time to bitch about insurance runaround.<br />
<br />
Two months before the big day, I checked my insurance website and called to verify coverage. I printed out the coverage summary, wrote notes on it about my talk with the insurance rep, all that good stuff. "Birth control - Covered At 100%. Permanent birth control covered in full."<br />
<br />
<i>Narrator voice: This was not how things would go.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Dr. Young was booked a month out for consults. We had our nice little consult, she told me to call when I wanted to schedule, and I went on my merry way. I didn't know what my paid-time-off situation was, so I needed to figure that out. Turns out, I had several days left to burn for 2018. Fantastic! Scheduled for November 29. I'd get the surgery, take a long weekend, and go back to work December 1.<br />
<br />
And then I got a bill for $25 for the consult. No problem, I used to work in insurance - just get the procedure and call for them to re-run the claim. Make sure they were billing with the right CPT and ICD-10 codes.<br />
<br />
But this niggling doubt remained in the back of my head. Having worked in insurance claims at one point, I have seen way too many patients <i>think</i> they were covered in a certain way, only to find that their claim was denied or didn't pay out how they thought it would, or the anesthesiologist was out of network. Tens of thousands of dollars in some cases. I saw lives ruined, and I was sometimes powerless to help. I was determined that this would not happen to me.<br />
<br />
Then, I couldn't find my paper with my notes on it. No big deal, I'll print it off again and call insurance again. Except now, the "Permanent birth control covered in full" was nowhere to be found in the coverage summary. My deductible is $500 and my out-of-pocket max is $3,000. That's a big jump from covered in full. I was not pleased. <i>They were not going to screw me, damn it.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I called my insurance to get a quote again. The rep quoted me my deductible and co-insurance. I asked her why it was different this time. She said that yes, birth control is covered in full <i>if done in-office</i>. Doing the procedure in an ambulatory surgical center would be subject to the surgical benefits, not contraceptive.<br />
<br />
I asked her what scrupulous doctor would do a laparoscopic salpingectomy, under full anesthesia, in-office. Because the answer is none, zero. Then, the lightbulb went off in my head.<br />
<br />
Essure was done in-office. But <a href="https://www.webmd.com/sex/birth-control/news/20180720/bayer-to-halt-sale-of-essure-birth-control-implant">it's off the market now, because a lot of women were having bad complications</a> - the blockage of the Fallopian tube failed, or they suffered chronic pain, and so on. It wasn't my first choice anyway, because it takes 3 months to take effect, whereas if they just take your tubes right out, obviously that's going to fix the problem pretty damn quick. That difference in cost, though. That would have been a motivator. Especially when I was poor as fuck, but lucky enough to have insurance.<br />
<br />
I wasn't going to just not go through with the sterilization, but um, what the shit, people? Bayer announced they were taking this stuff off the market in July. I checked my benefits and scheduled my appointments back in October. The coverage on the website was most definitely not updated until several months after Essure would have been available. Nice due diligence there, Blue Cross/Blue Shield! Good job!<br />
<br />
On the upside, everything processed fine. Dr. Young's office charged me about $350. Without insurance, the surgical facility charges alone would have been almost $11,000. (Jesus fucking Christ and God bless insurance.) With insurance... Not much higher than a second-trimester abortion, and definitely cheaper than a baby.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEJahHIdmiPij2lWNd_ZjABc2HNyFHmPE8CVUYEpeiZRJS_QZXxcBhBcIyJvIsNuOI2Sw9C3rIgyBhotq7kv_Th1Cr1mxs6B-YDD32AQZPxBU_YBBEI8QEc5tJFExXrM9caYiE9jNbkqsp/s1600/Capture.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="230" data-original-width="596" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEJahHIdmiPij2lWNd_ZjABc2HNyFHmPE8CVUYEpeiZRJS_QZXxcBhBcIyJvIsNuOI2Sw9C3rIgyBhotq7kv_Th1Cr1mxs6B-YDD32AQZPxBU_YBBEI8QEc5tJFExXrM9caYiE9jNbkqsp/s1600/Capture.PNG" /></a></div>
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Not to mention my increased quality of mental health in these recent weeks. I have so much relief. I will take the cost with all that good.LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-43232429250673721782018-12-19T08:00:00.000-06:002019-01-04T16:19:09.873-06:00I turn 34 in a month! Help me throw a great Batty Birthday Giveaway!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWt4OYLGKXyZKQQsvfXW7rn9Vq7kB0DKAlOSxXTpjTsA1hm-Th0Ht44MI0BZby0sBVLhDUlGzr6MFO6CRiHxpUS8ecBFkUPxBEy03NlcoKQQ7ajFlAKI9f92X_2Cxk6tS1MrvjiupSuwea/s1600/dionysus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="462" data-original-width="522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWt4OYLGKXyZKQQsvfXW7rn9Vq7kB0DKAlOSxXTpjTsA1hm-Th0Ht44MI0BZby0sBVLhDUlGzr6MFO6CRiHxpUS8ecBFkUPxBEy03NlcoKQQ7ajFlAKI9f92X_2Cxk6tS1MrvjiupSuwea/s1600/dionysus.jpg" /></a></div>
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Hey! My birthday is exactly one month away! 33 has blown some of my wildest hopes out of the water, and I expect 34 to be even better. And I want you to be a part of it.<br />
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<i style="text-align: center;">(This post contains an affiliate link. I may receive compensation if you click on a link in this post and then make a purchase.)</i><br />
<br />
They say giving is better than receiving, and I want to give away a present. For my birthday, I hope to give away at least one copy of <a href="https://www.popmatters.com/dead-can-dance-dionysus-2618164746.html?rebelltitem=1#rebelltitem1">Dead Can Dance's latest album, Dionysus!</a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://amzn.to/2QZKqag">Dead Can Dance</a> was one of my gateways siren-sounds that lured me into the goth community (Although, looking back, I sure was psyched whenever Depeche Mode's Enjoy The Silence or Love and Rockets' So Alive came on the radio while on the bus ride to elementary school - which was probably a sign.) I've been absolutely <a href="https://media1.tenor.com/images/a3d806a73e72a4383cc64c9b9dd4e1c6/tenor.gif?itemid=4552210">in lesbians</a> with Lisa Gerrard's voice for about half my life now. <a href="https://amzn.to/2QZKqag">This is a really triumphant return for the band.</a><br />
<br />
Anyway, here are the rules!<br />
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1) <a href="https://www.facebook.com/granolabatblog">Like the Granola Bat Blog Facebook page.</a><br />
2) Share the Granola Bat Facebook page for an extra entry.<br />
<br />
And that's it! Oh, and you get a third extra entry if someone posts a comment, here or on the Facebook page, that they hit Like because you referred them.<br />
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If we get the page to over 100 likes by January 19, I'll draw one lucky person to send the Dead Can Dance album. If we get over 200, I'm sending it to <i>two</i> people!<br />
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Sound good? Good! Let's make this an awesome birthday by letting me send you the thing!LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-13629777293012158742018-12-14T11:02:00.000-06:002018-12-14T12:27:54.686-06:00ARGH! (or, how I made peace with socks and sandals - sort of.)<i>A pre-note: Once upon a time, I blogged about street style and fashion. That blog is defunct now. I don't remember exactly what the last straw was that turned me off -- something about "the 14 winter coats you NEED to buy right now or you're a frumpy nobody." So I walked away. Overt fashion-awareness and I took a several years-long break. </i><i>Fashion and style, for me, have always been about art and self expression. Runway shows are exciting, but couture-draped snobs issuing edicts about what's in or out make me want to go into a full Exorcist projectile-vomiting fit. So! As of right now, I will be blogging about personal style again from time to time. Let's keep it fun.</i><br />
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“Oh my God, you look like a middle-aged dad!” <o:p></o:p><br />
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“Well…I am, so OK then,” David replied.<o:p></o:p><br />
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David’s no-bullshit, rock solid sense of self-assuredness is
incredibly sexy <i>MOST</i> of the time. But his go-to footwear is white tube socks with black KEEN sandals. “They’re comfortable!” and he just… leaves it at
that. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt0TJ-N7ydHiUCcF_fa0-Ht3GYTFpsJs_19l-KXn9eDNqBmcpCl6JWT9E4ZBe5movUSZEjEqWjBaF-AO9wDK2B8NnChGeaGtZ69r0dq_4eS2iDBB4h-bOnsVB28m61mW_gHqwv6rr9PDe5/s1600/black+men%2527s+Keen+sandals.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="580" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt0TJ-N7ydHiUCcF_fa0-Ht3GYTFpsJs_19l-KXn9eDNqBmcpCl6JWT9E4ZBe5movUSZEjEqWjBaF-AO9wDK2B8NnChGeaGtZ69r0dq_4eS2iDBB4h-bOnsVB28m61mW_gHqwv6rr9PDe5/s320/black+men%2527s+Keen+sandals.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This. With white Jockey socks. Baby Jesus have mercy!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Y’all. The headache this combination freaking gives me! I
have generally been the form-above-function type my whole life. My favorite
playtime activity as a child was pretty princess dress-up, and I honestly never
outgrew it. I would even beg my mom sometimes, in the winter, not to make me wear
my coat because it didn’t “go” with my outfit that day. And don’t get me started on the
emotional pain of not being able to wear outrageous platform heels anymore
after I broke my foot 3 years ago. I can <i>not </i>even begin to understand the concept of wearing something fuck-ugly just because it feels like a cloud on your feet.<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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I do my best to accept him where he is, so I try to keep the
embarrassed whining to a minimum. Sometimes, he’ll “compromise” by choosing
black socks instead of white ones.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZcvpb94bxNFjuVdYSjFIOa_0WWFx8OJI4g9AbUzFj9qyeX31skoa6fFqiwI2QD-qeW6vlFHmfHQQYuMcgDQkPj9BsiDPRxru4HY8wY1YDYu1wY9qWdIOUOwBP7bYksf0lmcMKlSR5ZDlS/s1600/Jesus-facepalm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="440" data-original-width="550" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZcvpb94bxNFjuVdYSjFIOa_0WWFx8OJI4g9AbUzFj9qyeX31skoa6fFqiwI2QD-qeW6vlFHmfHQQYuMcgDQkPj9BsiDPRxru4HY8wY1YDYu1wY9qWdIOUOwBP7bYksf0lmcMKlSR5ZDlS/s400/Jesus-facepalm.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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And then I saw <a href="https://www.gq.com/story/socks-with-sandals-is-cool-now">this enabling bullshit from GQ</a>.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfHf54DUjihwMu7tD-AT-vbl26ysqobYnSnRNhJ0giXmdPSe4ljT8Id0qulG6X82OCfkXuICdu-rEBiTT3Mmbf-f357w0MUf2HYA6qYZaFZCevu_4bP8RwCa4yJcA6187pZxxe9ldECjQi/s1600/Capture.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="916" data-original-width="1112" height="524" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfHf54DUjihwMu7tD-AT-vbl26ysqobYnSnRNhJ0giXmdPSe4ljT8Id0qulG6X82OCfkXuICdu-rEBiTT3Mmbf-f357w0MUf2HYA6qYZaFZCevu_4bP8RwCa4yJcA6187pZxxe9ldECjQi/s640/Capture.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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I wondered if showing him the article would
reverse-psychology the man into stepping up his shoe game, (Oh no, my look is
fashion now – better do something else) but no such luck. <o:p></o:p></div>
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FINE. I love the man, so if he goes down, I'll go with him. If we’re going to do this, I will have my ground
rules, though. I will make my peace and find some “but they’re so comfy!” looks
that don’t offend me. Here we go.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJabujpG7DK_lXzAmuVoUfAEiJ6KyyC6j7rFeMV6MnpOCbFTAXxguf7HSapoPQLvoel1CcGm9m4cOoR0u2_iFTogupGA209yshCQZJFzs5H5JCWM-SZX-wGCMEXZn9mSpulcMJ2qxg4OE6/s1600/socksno1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="705" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJabujpG7DK_lXzAmuVoUfAEiJ6KyyC6j7rFeMV6MnpOCbFTAXxguf7HSapoPQLvoel1CcGm9m4cOoR0u2_iFTogupGA209yshCQZJFzs5H5JCWM-SZX-wGCMEXZn9mSpulcMJ2qxg4OE6/s320/socksno1.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
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*otherworldly screeching* NO NO NO NO NO. </center>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV754Yd2bJnx3wTd26VSluIOJlmr8o6I9WmWGTv5oYB4W0bwIRxqH8Ic4L6EzA0T6F5iVUnQk45FKpWDH4YbfTFkHbSZZQnsPE64Pph8TIHyYfRMILaRqrtlycsNmJC5k1egJLHgPqX4W5/s1600/socksyes1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="256" data-original-width="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV754Yd2bJnx3wTd26VSluIOJlmr8o6I9WmWGTv5oYB4W0bwIRxqH8Ic4L6EzA0T6F5iVUnQk45FKpWDH4YbfTFkHbSZZQnsPE64Pph8TIHyYfRMILaRqrtlycsNmJC5k1egJLHgPqX4W5/s1600/socksyes1.jpg" /></a></div>
<center>
This one’s... cute, actually. The pairing has a theme that’s blingy, but not obnoxious. A studded heel
or platform with a sock in an understated shade, with some Lurex to compliment the shiny studs. I could rock this.</center>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJtSCz1a-6ecFowKhpmuIeRQopsKlOPlgnLFYhCVWpDuaeltYoP4sAyQx8JgkB4tvEGJO8y9slygMTTtz-nefJtdEY4XE4caHWBMi9DCPgs79R0T_Lxz8zN8g92In0tTgp9X_tYmnpB1Et/s1600/sockyes2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="620" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJtSCz1a-6ecFowKhpmuIeRQopsKlOPlgnLFYhCVWpDuaeltYoP4sAyQx8JgkB4tvEGJO8y9slygMTTtz-nefJtdEY4XE4caHWBMi9DCPgs79R0T_Lxz8zN8g92In0tTgp9X_tYmnpB1Et/s320/sockyes2.jpg" width="291" /></a></div>
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This one’s okay too. I tend to shy from prints in socks,
because it can get very busy, very quickly. A sock and sandal that are not too matchy-matchy, but in the same color family, so it looks intentional – not
like you got dressed in the dark.</center>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqyJHLuhyphenhyphenNpHEFz8d145Wh07e_tuXM9iC9otUMHuZBJgo0rY1gtSPgUjhWUnQHY_PJ2prLI2KmfnBxL0jrxMPjiu0WyZf5uP2kZGRvgetnxyWAAJNGvKDcwerkyZT0s-rdEFAqjnxw5_J0/s1600/BeFunky+Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="1600" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqyJHLuhyphenhyphenNpHEFz8d145Wh07e_tuXM9iC9otUMHuZBJgo0rY1gtSPgUjhWUnQHY_PJ2prLI2KmfnBxL0jrxMPjiu0WyZf5uP2kZGRvgetnxyWAAJNGvKDcwerkyZT0s-rdEFAqjnxw5_J0/s640/BeFunky+Collage.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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This, I can get behind. I can see a risk of making the leg
line look shorter, but I love a good fishnet, and it gets a little
damn warm to have a full fishnet stocking in the summer. It can be done with a comfortable low heel, platform, or flat. It's versatile, it fits my aesthetic, and
it doesn’t feel too try-hard.<br />
<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjinHGkO9uXgNLroypAMXv5J9oipBHZncbyzAe2UCpJ4qQizaJtXD9RxK0me4bmKLv9nKCpeHN548o6O8eW8Y6L7YvtXtvU3C0AgQcAPDFUA6jG4U2qtEKBzoUkpIQzwNLFY12SDZWCyEIg/s1600/athleticsocksandal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="376" data-original-width="564" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjinHGkO9uXgNLroypAMXv5J9oipBHZncbyzAe2UCpJ4qQizaJtXD9RxK0me4bmKLv9nKCpeHN548o6O8eW8Y6L7YvtXtvU3C0AgQcAPDFUA6jG4U2qtEKBzoUkpIQzwNLFY12SDZWCyEIg/s320/athleticsocksandal.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<center>
This looks like something everyone (including me) was
wearing in the mid 90's. Not my favorite, but I like that it’s
gender-neutral (Bust out the CK One, y'all!) Everyone can do this. Depending on the rest of
your outfit, it can work. Contrast with something a little more classic and
dressed-up, or pair with well-proportioned athleisure/<a href="http://aesthetic.wikia.com/wiki/Health_Goth">Health Goth</a> looks.</center>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCi5aV40CvFWkbvdoon7VdssmKJYw9L1Ly44q4TOq7e3VgCL4dD1TukBxAzOLxn1MezDUgRXuHG8ZxMOL14JjkNH34eMvnpeECmb4nkfg6fB8-m3_9MSIV96HWq1kAocm9JRpQBBYUFqJ0/s1600/00-lede-shoobies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCi5aV40CvFWkbvdoon7VdssmKJYw9L1Ly44q4TOq7e3VgCL4dD1TukBxAzOLxn1MezDUgRXuHG8ZxMOL14JjkNH34eMvnpeECmb4nkfg6fB8-m3_9MSIV96HWq1kAocm9JRpQBBYUFqJ0/s320/00-lede-shoobies.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<center>
I generally don’t wear pastels except in my wigs, but this
is darling.</center>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
Okay, I concede. Socks with sandals aren’t just for sloppy
suburban dads anymore. I’ve picked up some Lurex socks and chunky-heeled sandals with thick straps, for my inaugural run - look for them in a future post!<br />
<br />
Like the rest of my wardrobe, selections have to be
versatile for a range of combinations. The Lurex socks will also go with
several other shoes I already had, including some Betsey Johnson flat
sandals with a leopard accent bow.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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And as for my aversion to prints, well… I must say, I dream of pairing these with my black faux-Birkenstock slides.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyTat1sad59k0K7gnef7xX2J7CsqoEqxnAr7CQuIv34z0I3Y6Lnv_4ACbbFR_FCAyQRWRJLZ-HUxhICLcWqUi1thOIR_xrcUZHsUHSEHe7FZ92lQChqDUTS9xe6U8YjmgiSF-Ula1p87WM/s1600/wishlist1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="564" data-original-width="425" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyTat1sad59k0K7gnef7xX2J7CsqoEqxnAr7CQuIv34z0I3Y6Lnv_4ACbbFR_FCAyQRWRJLZ-HUxhICLcWqUi1thOIR_xrcUZHsUHSEHe7FZ92lQChqDUTS9xe6U8YjmgiSF-Ula1p87WM/s320/wishlist1.JPG" width="241" /></a></div>
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What do you think of the fact this former absolute no-no is
now becoming a bit of a fashion staple? Yay, or yikes?<o:p></o:p></div>
LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-77432341315824943732018-12-11T12:43:00.001-06:002018-12-11T16:55:02.632-06:00You can always trust someone to keep being who they are.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit64WeV3GUDnC9hIyr8Myqw9eB-tAxxE3fhKtStID9BWVRSWT9EBGnOsWLpOwIpr267p5aUPL0zQvtreA-ESTQd8WNAwOWjPAAITXxusIZ0kgl4_19v1nPitdjASVzExroCKZqPWpGsKI1/s1600/donmiguelquote1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit64WeV3GUDnC9hIyr8Myqw9eB-tAxxE3fhKtStID9BWVRSWT9EBGnOsWLpOwIpr267p5aUPL0zQvtreA-ESTQd8WNAwOWjPAAITXxusIZ0kgl4_19v1nPitdjASVzExroCKZqPWpGsKI1/s320/donmiguelquote1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The ones you love the most are worth every fight and every tear.<br />
<br />
I'm not sure if I mentioned that I'm back in therapy or not, but I am. I need to make sure I get my head on straight enough to really make a stab at having a good life, now that I finally have solid ground under me and a great partner. And I have every intention of staying with him until one of us dies. (If it's him first, I'll be so pissed that I'll bring him back just to kill him again, because how DARE he make me ever live a day without him!)<br />
<br />
We have fairly infrequent, incredibly frustrating fights. One of them is exactly why I was a weepy mess in therapy yesterday. <i>I feel like I really am a crazy person</i> because it's just so ridiculous. But there's a line where giving too much unasked-for help just makes me feel like you think I'm incompetent. And he crossed that line three or four times over the weekend. Enough that I started counting, which I try to never do.<br />
<br />
Love isn't about keeping score.<br />
<br />
God, he's ridiculously sweet, but sometimes it <i>is</i> ridiculous. He fixes dinner literally every night. We have a sit-down, at the table, dinner every night like the damn Cleavers (but frequently with wine.) It's a warm, fuzzy filling to a hole I didn't even know was in my heart.<br />
<br />
Sometimes I really miss doing for myself, though, so when Friday night was a build-your-own stir fry, I was happy. I was so hyped for this. <i>I was ready!</i> (I was also nervous about accidentally spilling anything that would trigger compulsive cleaning.)<br />
<br />
He cut up all the vegetables and meat, he prepared noodles, but his son and I actually got to cook our plates for ourselves. Well, the son did - with some little supervisions and hints, because he's barely 14. When it was my turn, I put the meats and seasonings into the pan - and then David started turning the meats for me. If you wouldn't or didn't for your teenage child, why would you for me, a grown-ass adult with 20 more years of life experience? Someone who is supposed to be your partner, not your child?<br />
<br />
I told you it was fucking ridiculous. I'm being ridiculous. I actually laughed when my therapist repeated what I said to her, because it's off the wall that something this small would make me cry.<br />
<br />
And he really does think he's being helpful when he wipes up the crumbs before I'm even halfway done eating my sandwich, or tells me some more-efficient way of starting my car or whatever.<br />
<br />
I don't know how to help him understand that sometimes it feels like he's cleaning <i>at me. </i>And I don't know what the line is before I'm demanding someone else to manage my emotional responses, which is in no way appropriate. He doesn't want to have to ask permission before any time he helps me with something. (I also don't know how much walking on eggshells to not trigger his obsessive-compulsive tendencies is me managing his emotions.)<br />
<br />
His world is one of much order and aversion to spills, crumbs, or any inefficiencies. He times his drives down to the minute and took a while to understand why my drives take longer. (In a word, anxiety. I'm cautious to a fault, and I find that collecting myself before shifting into Drive, slowing my roll, and remembering to breathe is really useful, even if it makes the trip five minutes longer. Driving is one situation in which trying to maximize efficiency would just make me hyperventilate.)<br />
<br />
Every drawer, cabinet, and section of the dishwasher has a regimented pattern of organization - I won't even take anything but the cinnamon out of the spice cabinet, because that's the only thing I feel like I can move correctly, without upsetting his order. But these compulsions are a part of who he is. My therapist told me she'd like to see me work on seeing it differently - he isn't angry <i>with me</i> or cleaning<i> at me</i>. He isn't angry at all. He is having a reaction to a situation that feels wrong to him, that he has a compulsive need to fix <i>rightthissecond</i>.<br />
<br />
I need to be... not comfortable, but comfortable-enough with letting him be who he is.<br />
<br />
But he also needs to do this for me. I was a slob for decades. I was raised by more than one hoarder. I've had to un-learn a lot of unhealthy things, and I've honestly done a hell of a job so far! But a lot of things, which come to him as naturally as breathing, don't come for me without a lot of thought and effort. I have chronic fatigue problems, and on my best days, I'm pretty ditzy. I might have trouble remembering what size spoon goes where in the dishwasher, even after he's reminded me 10 times in the past. Maybe - a helpful start would be, instead of just reaching in and helping, or being afraid to give any help without asking permission - would be just to offer.<br />
<br />
Even on the days my "I love you" before going to work is shot through with dirty looks because he's corrected me unasked-for, my arms go the whole day feeling empty because he's not in them. I drink in his presence like water in a desert. My hands cry for his. There will never be enough time with him. This is home.<br />
<br />
I'm not sure what the answers are. I just know I belong here.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvh5dIwlWSr69UyqawQZX6ZXltuZ1vWTPNuXODVfbVcFFR7YJgZ_UPr5mw4WLWmZ7vkWOpVmVveYCcXhs-Ym7oimh6Pe4Q3SBPwnZ2RH0NLTpAU8V03ZCmrOgg7ZMmbp-TtcaGQjchR1wF/s1600/donmiguelquote2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="564" data-original-width="720" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvh5dIwlWSr69UyqawQZX6ZXltuZ1vWTPNuXODVfbVcFFR7YJgZ_UPr5mw4WLWmZ7vkWOpVmVveYCcXhs-Ym7oimh6Pe4Q3SBPwnZ2RH0NLTpAU8V03ZCmrOgg7ZMmbp-TtcaGQjchR1wF/s320/donmiguelquote2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quotes are from the Facebook page for <br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/thesevensectetstohealthyhappyrelationships/">The Seven Secrets To Healthy, Happy Relationships </a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/thesevensectetstohealthyhappyrelationships/">by Heatherash Amara and Don Miguel Ruiz Jr.</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-39404058180738691232018-12-07T16:14:00.001-06:002018-12-26T12:27:16.210-06:00(A Mini Post) I'm not going to talk about getting rid of my Fallopian tubes today.^ That is a thing that happened. I'm a sleepy, vain bitch, though, so we're going to admire this amazing crap I found a while ago instead. I'll post about the glories of my first surgery soon! (the short version: fucking OW.)<br />
<br />
<i>This post contains affiliate links. I may receive compensation if you click on a link then make a purchase.</i><br />
<br />
Meanwhile, <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BrAleCcnhYs1rofdAAbLvOlhfi1y7PWO3otghs0/">LOOK AT THIS</a>.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQC8ZmQNT_55QYkvxFzlOnZPBJUR78ub4WFQBfKHtthV3GR9VFM7mDOzPlPfM1PACYVLzTqkrcW-qzX3gIBLi28hdLb5CAT5AFHz_GbvLIzAxypY-MxECb6sk5dR6mG4gSKKsxz5aRkce6/s1600/output.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1182" data-original-width="1182" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQC8ZmQNT_55QYkvxFzlOnZPBJUR78ub4WFQBfKHtthV3GR9VFM7mDOzPlPfM1PACYVLzTqkrcW-qzX3gIBLi28hdLb5CAT5AFHz_GbvLIzAxypY-MxECb6sk5dR6mG4gSKKsxz5aRkce6/s400/output.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I took this photo 5 minutes ago. The manicure is A WEEK OLD.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Because I love you and want you to feel pretty if you're so inclined, here are the details:<br />
<br />
<b>Color:</b> Mamba by Wet N Wild. (<a href="https://amzn.to/2RfCQbM" target="_blank">similar</a>)<br />
<b>Glitter:</b> City Sparkle by Pop-arazzi. (<a href="https://amzn.to/2CzZBPu" target="_blank">similar</a>)<br />
<b>Base/top coat: </b><a href="https://amzn.to/2BFLE0L" target="_blank">Nail Aid 3-in-1 Gel Base + Top + Hardener</a><br />
<br />
<br />
I just freaking adore this stuff. I got it about a week ago for like $3 while I was killing time in Ross. It makes Seche Vite look like a damn slacker. And the manicure itself? Totally looks like goldstone.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4GOuI3tRqFYE8h0G_1KG609mjh3uRstb69PfTuU1mayTqMxy36f5ufjDAKHre_iZ5fmgHuzkXVyllFFxtL5xB9ZBglGkx-shUK3ize34TzCnlUSoxNBQTkWr7w1bCi46qffRK5TplGTAr/s1600/220px-Goldfluss_%2528Aventuringlas%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="192" data-original-width="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4GOuI3tRqFYE8h0G_1KG609mjh3uRstb69PfTuU1mayTqMxy36f5ufjDAKHre_iZ5fmgHuzkXVyllFFxtL5xB9ZBglGkx-shUK3ize34TzCnlUSoxNBQTkWr7w1bCi46qffRK5TplGTAr/s1600/220px-Goldfluss_%2528Aventuringlas%2529.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Toldja.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Exactly a week ago, I was feeling like hell, because I'd let some doctor poke holes in my abdomen the day before. <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BrAleCcnhYs1rofdAAbLvOlhfi1y7PWO3otghs0/">So this manicure was my self-care moment.</a><br />
<br />
Flash-forward to today, the first day since November 29 that I haven't been in enough pain to necessitate hugging a heating pad constantly. I ran out of spoons before lunch time. The 3 cups of iced tea that brought me back up from that abyss are wearing off. I haven't bought or made a single Christmas present yet, and there are less than 20 days left. And I haven't blogged in 3 weeks. What's the exact opposite of the #winning hashtag? Sometimes you just gotta say whatever, rest up, and set the alarm to do better tomorrow.<br />
<br />
<br />
<iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="//ws-na.amazon-adsystem.com/widgets/q?ServiceVersion=20070822&OneJS=1&Operation=GetAdHtml&MarketPlace=US&source=ss&ref=as_ss_li_til&ad_type=product_link&tracking_id=granolabat-20&marketplace=amazon&region=US&placement=B0089BAYTO&asins=B0089BAYTO&linkId=32fe6cd910d14374f2dde79dad9eab74&show_border=true&link_opens_in_new_window=true" style="height: 240px; width: 120px;"></iframe><iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="//ws-na.amazon-adsystem.com/widgets/q?ServiceVersion=20070822&OneJS=1&Operation=GetAdHtml&MarketPlace=US&source=ss&ref=as_ss_li_til&ad_type=product_link&tracking_id=granolabat-20&marketplace=amazon&region=US&placement=B0089BAZF2&asins=B0089BAZF2&linkId=644cda89a1fdf99d00683b9b987ee84a&show_border=true&link_opens_in_new_window=true" style="height: 240px; width: 120px;"></iframe><iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="//ws-na.amazon-adsystem.com/widgets/q?ServiceVersion=20070822&OneJS=1&Operation=GetAdHtml&MarketPlace=US&source=ss&ref=as_ss_li_til&ad_type=product_link&tracking_id=granolabat-20&marketplace=amazon&region=US&placement=B06Y41Y5LS&asins=B06Y41Y5LS&linkId=ae8b74b6896e03b88d0b31092f0a669c&show_border=true&link_opens_in_new_window=true" style="height: 240px; text-align: right; width: 120px;"></iframe><iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="//ws-na.amazon-adsystem.com/widgets/q?ServiceVersion=20070822&OneJS=1&Operation=GetAdHtml&MarketPlace=US&source=ss&ref=as_ss_li_til&ad_type=product_link&tracking_id=granolabat-20&marketplace=amazon&region=US&placement=B00IVO9KKS&asins=B00IVO9KKS&linkId=f9b141f90d6812a5519615675d6e323e&show_border=true&link_opens_in_new_window=true" style="height: 240px; text-align: right; width: 120px;"></iframe>LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2106120453369918263.post-35542044280575441212018-11-17T15:54:00.002-06:002018-11-17T15:58:48.402-06:00It physically hurts to be mentally ill. Here's how I'm dealing (or not, some days.)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvOIToNV9iOBh6712fuNG-Ajrdwl64RxQzKQ4QFtKptvdksbgkhJl8xdkikEgwF6J4ZjcdQ_4ok5URCJWkkq42AbiWnAy3acv-76cYI4ZKsuI6oQAIOOxEemixM9iTl4PPAFnFnwUebhgH/s1600/depression_by_anndeef-d5idil5.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1317" data-original-width="1600" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvOIToNV9iOBh6712fuNG-Ajrdwl64RxQzKQ4QFtKptvdksbgkhJl8xdkikEgwF6J4ZjcdQ_4ok5URCJWkkq42AbiWnAy3acv-76cYI4ZKsuI6oQAIOOxEemixM9iTl4PPAFnFnwUebhgH/s400/depression_by_anndeef-d5idil5.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.deviantart.com/anndeef/art/Depression-333194585">"Depression" by AnnDeeF</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
(Content note: If you have struggled with child-loss or difficulty conceiving when you want to, this is probably not a good post for you to read. Particularly if you don't want to read about someone "throwing away" something you dearly want. It's not everyone's path. I'm sincerely, terribly sorry for your troubles, and I hope you find peace. Do not read this if someone being childfree-by-choice is something it hurts to read about.)<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Narrator voice: Her energy levels did not stay at a good level.</i><br />
<br />
It's been a while. I'm sorry. I've been maintaining, working some things around, re-organizing, and getting necessary care.<br />
<br />
Very importantly, I'm getting my tubes tied on November 29 - less than two weeks! I've known since I was twelve years old that I don't want to have any children of my own. For a long time, I didn't even like children - not even when I <i>was</i> a child. (Tweener. Whatever.) I was an annoying child when I was younger, and I'm well aware that "I hope your children turn out just like you!" is the most potent backhanded blessing-curse a mother can utter. Also, I haven't even had the finances or energy to feed and care for myself well for most of my adult life, and I can't keep a plant alive -- what would I do with a larval human?<br />
<br />
I very much resent the fact that, in American culture, I'll be more recognized as fully-human when my body no longer is perceived as belonging to a hypothetical future-person, rather than to me. There are still those patriarchal asshats who will perceive my body as belonging to my future spouse rather than to me, but that's not something I can fix. This is much easier. My body will, for the first time ever, feel like it's truly as much my own as it ever will. My mental health is already improved by this, and these Fallopian tubes aren't even vacating the building for another 12 days.<br />
<br />
For what it's worth, I adore David's son, and soon as there's one less thing weighing on my mental health, I hope I can quasi-stepmom better.<br />
<br />
I had a good string of what I thought were good mental-health days, in the last month but after my first therapy appointment since March, it's abundantly clear that these were just days I was better at repressing that shit because, in the workplace, it's frowned upon to visibly not have all of your shit together a thousand percent of the time. In this time, my energy levels... Well, they maintained pretty well. However, it's also busy season at work, and between doing a kick-ass job for our clients and potential clients, and then working out my body at the gym, I didn't have much left for frivolities like reading and blogging. Y'know, those things I actually like the most. Forget about karaoke -- I haven't done that since August.<br />
<br />
Self care has come in the form of snuggling with David to watch Babylon Five every night, carving out whatever time I can every other day or so to meditate, getting mostly-adequate sleep, actually remembering my skincare routine, and organizing my side of the closet. And the bathroom. Damn, my bathroom-organization game is boss as hell.<br />
<br />
To accomplish all this, I took an extended weekend with my paid-time off. I slept for almost the entire first day. The second day, I went to town on everything I'd been meaning to do since I moved here. I scrubbed. I vacuumed. I dusted. I pulled out winter clothes and put summer clothes into storage. I weeded out things for donation. I completely organized my wardrobe, right down to impeccably folding underwear and bras. I cleaned my makeup caddy and jewelry box with Clorox wipes, and painstakingly organized every little bit of their contents. I took my favorite, out-of-commission boots for repair, and bought the supplies to do my neglected mending.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitJS2p2Qt5z2dVRTK0hNbR_Nb3r58nQ3CxJLe-yY01QnLI7M7Q4-JrphHDJlMGkB1MmTy6tJKXXtoEQAIsYjBgJmDTkMQ8IwNe16c12Zpq71zYR8RMZbNQXjx5XwLkj7r922yipasiyFT1/s1600/closet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1458" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitJS2p2Qt5z2dVRTK0hNbR_Nb3r58nQ3CxJLe-yY01QnLI7M7Q4-JrphHDJlMGkB1MmTy6tJKXXtoEQAIsYjBgJmDTkMQ8IwNe16c12Zpq71zYR8RMZbNQXjx5XwLkj7r922yipasiyFT1/s400/closet.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I look much more put-together now that I can just thoughtlessly grab a few things.<br />
Being somewhat goth has its advantages - everything already matches. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
On the third day, I slept for half the day to recover from overdoing it on day 2. Complete with Advil and the heating pad.<br />
<br />
Then, I was in pretty good shape until the end of my first day back at work. Aging combined with the constant low-level muscle tension that's just part of #anxietylife -- basically, ow. Even on the best days, there's always pain. Now that I'm back in treatment, I notice it. It's gotten worse to a point that I wonder if I have undiagnosed arthritis.<br />
<br />
About a week ago, I burst into tears at bedtime because, on that particular day, my ankles, knees, fingers, wrists, elbows, and shoulders all hurt to a point the Advil couldn't take the edge off, so naturally, my anxiety-brain took it to "something is terribly wrong, what if you're dying?" For the first time in about a third of my life, dying actually would suck. Stuff has finally gotten good, and I want to be here for it. Thanks, anxiety-brain. You're a jerk.<br />
<br />
Anyway, if any of this is relatable, here are five dealing-with-it tips that work for me (I'm not a doctor -- don't treat this like gospel or sue me if anything hurts or doesn't make you feel instantly like Superman):<br />
<ol><br />
<li>Over-the-counter pain meds are your life now. Deal with it, and be careful with the damn dosages. You need your liver for a while. Also, heat treatment is awesome. Buy a heating pad if you don't have one. (If you're a cis female, you already have one.)</li>
<li>Magnesium and potassium are both great for muscle tension. I don't recommend taking magnesium if you have to be alert for things, though. In my experience, it relaxes the mind, not just the body. </li>
<li>Yoga makes it hurt worse for one to four days, but then you start to actually feel better. There are a lot of good YouTube videos - go for the ones that have "gentle" or "bedtime" in the title, at first. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pCb648IsqSA">Rodney Yee has a great five-minute morning sequence</a> that I swear by. </li>
<li>Try and meditate for at least five to ten minutes a day. It feels hokey, but it works, dammit.</li>
<li>If you find yourself blessed with a good-energy day where things hurt less, whip up and execute a quick plan to get your surroundings more organized. Think of what you wish was quicker or easier when you're tired, cranky, sick, or hurting. Then, arrange your stuff accordingly. Hang up your clothes by color and item-type. Pants with pants, shirts with shirts, etc. If breakfast is hard, portion out cereal into Gladware bowls in advance or <a href="https://livesimply.me/2014/07/29/diy-freezer-smoothie-packs-recipes/">DIY some easy smoothie packs </a>you can just toss in a <a href="https://www.amazon.com/personal-size-blenders/b?ie=UTF8&node=3117947011">personal-size blender cup</a> with the milk or juice of your choice. </li>
</ol>
<div>
Trust yourself to know what will work best for you, then make it happen while you still feel good enough to do it. Future-you will thank present-you. <a href="https://www.hopetocope.com/depression-the-mystery-of-motivation/">Take it one day at a time.</a></div>
LC Bathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09867980070785280566noreply@blogger.com0