…and cabbage, and bullshit


Besides making you have have atomic gas the next day, just eating cabbage for dinner is a great little meal that depending on what you use to boil it with happens to be primal and vegan! Unfortunately, I only had the margarine, so the “inferior” oils won for that round, but I bet it would be good with coconut or olive oil. The only issue is that it doesn’t really stick with you through the evening, so adding a protein such as boiled eggs (Yes, I actually feel sorry for my coworkers today… girl you nastay!)  Also, some grapefruit as a dessert beats the heck out of the post-dinner gas station cupcakes/zingers that I was starting to make an unhealthy habit of consuming.

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Been a bit bad when it comes to early morning food, too. Because I feel a bit calorically taken hostage by the Starbuck’s Double Shot Energy drinks at 200 calories a can, I tend to not eat much of anything during the rest of the day. This of course, makes me super hungry at night, and then likely to binge on something really gross and not at all fitspiring.

Speaking of working out, I have my trackpants on, just because I don’t know what professionalism is, and I want to go to the gym straight after work, at least I opted for the t-shirt and sports’ bra in the purse, so I maintain some workplace appropriateness. Anywho, was dancing last night, and for whatever reason, I had one of my favorite EDM albums on,  and yet still my moves were not really that great. I guess because the dream is dying for me of ever being on stage in a dance capacity again. Hell, it was probably dead 2 years ago, but I had some dream of doing it again. I would like to DJ again, if I actually knew how to (college radio doesn’t count), but I don’t know how to beatmatch, and it seems silly to take lessons with 18 year olds. Even if I will never perform again, never say never Justin Beiber, it shouldn’t stop me from enjoying the movement of dance, but somehow my histrionic tendencies know that I will never get the attention I so desperately crave. I am 31. I should really get over that shit. I think I just need a bigger space to hoop in. I think I can enjoy that and maybe one day, I will get to be as good as Neon Emu, a local hoopdancing star. She really is awesome. I have to give her props for her energy and integration of tricks into dancing:

I need to find a practice space big enough, as I can do some of those tricks, but the isolation stuff with the horizontal plane is something I have never been good at. Excuses, excuses. The nagging insecurity of everything being too late for me, or being a copycat, or being embarrassing to myself, just ultimately leads to most of my depression. Wish there was a pill to take that made you fearless. Hey girl, try not to have such a bad day today. I know it is all cloudy and raining, but things could be so much worse. Let’s not get too out of hand, here.

Just in case you don’t get the title reference, here you go:

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