#I’M LITERALLY ON THE CUSP OF A MELTDOWN | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

greytoiletpaper · 5 years ago

Text

Bathe Me in the Purest Water (I Don’t Feel Clean)

Yeah, so I wrote this like a couple months ago and i only just caught up with the manga and just... wow. I loved it, and I guess I just want this solidified here :). And yes, this fic was originally inspired by this comic, I love it so.

AO3 link

It is a shrieking wail bouncing off the walls of the Todoroki household at ungodly hours of the morning that has Touya bolting upright drenched in a cold sweat. Briefly, he wonders how fucked up it is that he thought he was hallucinating the sound. It is nothing like the cries of his siblings he has long since memorized. Yet, something about the sounds is so raw and so young, that refuting them as little Shouto’s cries is impossible.

Touya finds himself sprinting from his room, searching all over for the source of Shouto’s wails. The awful noise rings from every room and in his eardrums that he even considers whether the youngest Todoroki somehow developed a second quirk. Enji would have a field day with that. His mind is compartmentalizing, but joking is the only way he can stay sane when Shouto’s wailing turns into screaming. When he stumbles into the kitchen, he wishes that the joke was reality rather than the sight that greets him.

There is a kettle in the shaking hand of his mother while she mutters her husband’s name under her breath. Her eyes dart around every part of the room except the screaming face of her youngest son. A raw burn is on Shouto’s face, marred and angrily red as if a scalding liquid has run over it. There is evidence abound to figure out what happened, but that is yet to be Touya’s concern. For the rest of his life, no sound will ever haunt him as much as his baby brother’s screams turning into a weak gurgle.

He misses the way that Rei flinches when he moves closer, how his mother shrieks her husband’s name even though Enji only returns home from his mission tomorrow. Instead, all his attention is on the brother who looked up at Touya like he hung the stars curl up in a ball and shake. It is five seconds later when his other siblings rush into the room that Touya snaps out of his fugue. He gathers Shouto in his arms, whispering frantic platitudes in his ears and praying for the health of his baby brother.

Todoroki Touya is twelve when he has to bandage half of his five-year-old brother’s face. Their mother is sent to a mental health ward the next day, and their already-burning family peels more at the edges.

---

It is beautiful, the way that its form crinkles and curves at the edges. In all of his time with Cremation, he has never seen the azure flames seem so… gentle. Endeavour’s fire is like his rage, pure concentrated firepower that is only broken by small, consistent licks of flames at the edges. Touya’s flames are akin wildfire, they lash and lance and branch out in a chaotic collage that only he seems to be able to tell discern the individual licks of flame. Yet, in his hand, the flames seem so docile in their current shape, made of small bits of fire that skirt and weave themselves in a trance-inducing pattern.

Their shape is simple, but the forget-me-nots that his flames have formed are the product of the past three weeks of hard work and practise. Since Enji has stopped training Touya in favour of Shouto, he has had so much more time to focus on fine-tuning his quirk. His father taught him how to make his flames hotter and so much more destructive but here before his eyes is the proof that his fire can be used to make something instead.

He tries not to be guilty at the fact he gets to have this while his baby brother is beaten black and blue the floor below him.

Across him, his mother’s face lights up in her scarce, genuine smile that reminds him that even with all her cracking pieces, Rei Todoroki is still a mother that loves just as much as she is hurt. (She is so very hurt and there is nothing he can do to take it all away). It is thanks to her that he even learned controlling his quirk is possible.

It seems ironic, that he learned how to destroy with his flames from his pro hero father but is learning fine control from his civilian mother.

“That’s a beautiful flower Tou-chan,” He blushes at the nickname, but his mother is rarely happy, so he does not protest. “I hope one day all of you can do this with your quirks, it’s such beautiful artwork we can make with what we have been given.”

With her ice, his mother forms a beautiful, twinkling rindou flower and cups it in her hand. It is breathtaking to look at, seemingly ethereal with the frost emanating and little flecks of snow dancing in the lamplight. It is rare for Rei to use her quirk and every time, Touya is lost in the way that the ice seems to flow and skirt as if a small part of a blizzard appeared and made her craft. If he looks closer, the movement of his mother’s ice is familiar, shifting and undulating in ways so, so similar to how his fire is in his hand right now.

The quirk doctors said Touya inherited his mother’s constitution, everyone assumed it meant he was weak. He can apparently control his fire as if it were an ice quirk. Using Cremation for too long makes him feel like he is physically melting. In hindsight, he should have realised just how literal the quirk doctors were being.

---

He read in a textbook once that sometimes twins can swap their intended quirks in the womb. Fuyumi grabs the kettle from its undoubtedly searing bottom without even a wince, even though she has an ice quirk that freezes her arm at just a second’s usage. For the time being, it was the furthest thing from his mind. Shouto only barely breathing and all Touya wants is to hold someone so young and already so scarred in his arms and take all his tears for himself.

---

A week later, Enji puts Shouto back into training. Everyone protests this, but there is hardly anything they can say that can sway their father when he pulls his Endeavour face and disregards them in his own way of lovingly shoving his other children to the ground. Does Touya feel some satisfaction that the old man hesitated for a second before he lays his hand on Fuyumi? A little, but it fades as quickly as it came when there is still nothing stopping the prick from forcing their baby brother from being put back into what is no doubt extra hours to make up for “valuable training time gone to waste”.

Enji’s words, not his.

Frustration, anger and pain – so much pain – is what spurs Touya into action. He leaps onto Endeavour’s back, furiously trying to pry Shouto from the sick bastard’s hands and earns a knee to the gut for his efforts. Enji leaves him in the hallway and even though his other siblings are moving him to his room all he can think is how his baby brother looks so afraid as if he knows this time there will not be a mother to comfort any of them afterwards.

---

He wakes to the sound of Shouto’s tears slightly muffled in the central courtyard. The sun is only on the cusp of rising but sleep had eluded him for hours regardless. In the morning rays, his baby brother’s face is a mess of tears and aborted hiccups. A pang sounds in his chest, Shouto is so young (they all are) and he already has to learn how to make himself silent in fear of the flaming shadow that is their father. There is a small patch of ash by Shouto’s feet and soot on his face. Touya has a hunch as to what happened, but it never hurts to see his brother’s perspective.

“What’s wrong, Shou?” His question is met with silence, so he pushes on. “Did you burn yourself?”

Only an idiot would ignore how Shouto flinches at the question, so Touya crouches gently to make himself seem as non-threatening as possible. His baby brother does not relax, but a soft mumble just barely escapes him.

“It’s scary.”

“What’s scary?”

“His half.”

Touya frowns, just because Enji is why Shouto has fire, does not make it solely their father’s fire. Even then, no child should live in fear of their quirk. Although, looking down at the skin grafts on his wrists, Touya is in no place to judge his baby brother’s fear.

“Why do you think it’s scary?”

Another silence stretches out, and Touya can see his baby brother’s struggle to process the words. He almost changes the topic when the rest of Shouto’s confession spills out.

“It looks too much like his. I don’t want to burn myself too much and I still can’t control it. But dad keeps pushing me and- and I don’t want to-.”

Shouto looks like he is going to explode with tears, the wicks of flame and ice coming off him signal how close he is to a meltdown that would no doubt bring their father in screaming. Without thinking, he pulls his brother close, enveloping his tiny shoulders with his arms and making soothing motions on his back. While Shouto quietly sobs into his shoulder, Touya ruminates on how to comfort the boy with how to control his fire, which is the exact train of thought that makes him huff a laugh.

“Hey Shou, I’m going to try teach you something Mom taught me. You wanna see?” Looking at the soft, tentative smile Shouto gives him when Touya pulls away, he cannot help but be drawn by how much it reminds him of their mother’s. He holds out his hand palm up before his brother. “She taught me how to control the pieces so that it hurts a little less.”

The courtyard is thrown in shadows highlighted by the blue of Touya’s flames, and he can see just how enamoured Shouto’s face is in the azure light. He has the curls of his fire shift and form the forget-me-not that he has been practising making for so long.

“See Shou? Fire is not always that scary.”

Shouto only makes a small noise of assent, his eyes still entranced by the small dancing movements of his eldest brother’s fire. He reaches out, hesitantly, and tries to cup his hands around the flames.

“Can I learn how to make one?” The change in attitude throws off Touya for only a moment, but the shy, almost hopeful look in his brother’s eye would never have him say no even at gunpoint. He smiles.

“’Course Shou,” It is still a gamble trying to see if Shouto can use his fire this way, but Touya cups his brother’s hands anyway. “Try making a little fire first.”

The flame in Shouto’s hands starts off as little embers before igniting into a small flame just about the size of the boy’s fist.

“If you start off small and make all the pieces of your fire slow down even just a little, you can make things with them.”

Shouto frowns at the words, mulling them over in his head as the fearful parts of his face fade away into the focus he is exhibiting now. Slowly, the licks of flame seem to move in a blend of wild, yet seemingly calculated movements as they form into a stem. Shouto giggles even as it holds the form for all of five seconds before they give out. Touya laughs at the adorable pout that crosses Shouto’s face and holds his hand out for a high five.

“That was a great job, Shou!” It is. Touya took way longer to have that kind of focus and he held the stem for only half the time. He says as much. “Don’t worry that you can’t make the full flower right now. Mom and I can teach you. One day, your flames make a shape that means a lot to you and you only.”

As he ruffles Shouto’s hair and the boy gives him that look like he hung the very stars, Touya sees the shadow of his father crossing the walkway above them. Moment over, Touya picks his brother up and faces him away from Enji while staring the man down.

“You want something to eat?” Shouto makes a mumble that roughly translates to ‘cold soba’ and Touya laughs in spite of himself. “Come on buddy, I’ll take you to mom and fix some up for you.”

---

The water scalds his skin and his thoughts are a jumble of painmakeitstopmompleaseimsorry on half of his face. It is not just the water that hurts, but the knowledge that that can be reminded to him is how half of him has fire just like his father’s. As the searing pain finally starts to die down, little but important pieces of him (memories of nights huddled with a mother to see his fire as his own, his brother making those shapes with his hands) seem to leak out with his tears.

---

Touya dies in a fire starting from his seventh attempt to pull Shouto from training with Enji. Touya dies when his wildfire swarms him and his skin blisters and melts. Touya dies as the skin grafts are stapled on to his body and even without nerves in those places, he can still feel the flames as they enveloped him. Touya dies… and Dabi rises from his ashes.

19 notes · View notes

ambitionsource · 5 years ago

Text

S2 Rewatch - Maggie’s Take [ 207 ]

oh honey we’ve got a big storm coming...

Favorite scene

We’re getting to the point now in the season where all these questions become a million times harder to answer. All the scenes have an oomph to them. All the characters are at their richest. All the performances go off. So forgive me for cheating and giving multiple answers from here on out most likely. So in 207, three answers jump to mind. 1) The sequence where Farkle is having his true meltdown, before “Santa Fe.” From a writing standpoint, I remember I was really proud with how that scene turned out. It was a fun challenge, trying to capture that anxiety and panic and loss of reality. A fun fact that you may or may not know is that nearly all of the lines of dialogue said by the hallucinated characters are repetitions or variations on dialogue that has actually already been said in the show, meant to highlight how Farkle’s brain has taken these (usually offhand) comments and held onto them obsessively and in some cases even warped them into something more antagonistic than they were. Then there was the pattern of tying the sentiments together into one overarching monologue of sorts, repeating that thematic word over and over, “enough.” It was just so fun to write, and I’m really happy with how it came together. 2) The Dylan, Lucas, and Asher argument in the booth. Ooh, buddy. This was a true turning point, both for the narrative and for Asher and Dylan as characters. To me, that is the scene where they rise from supporting characters to mains, and in some ways it’s a long time coming. I love how it highlights the imperfections at play between that trio, and the way that Lucas and Asher know exactly how to get at one another, but nothing gets me more than Dylan’s “HEY” and stepping in between them. How Dylan snapping seems to be what pulls Lucas out of his anger, and how Dylan’s anger only lasts seconds before it shifts into like shock / concern... ugh I love him. I love them! Definitely a standout scene, even back when I first wrote it, but even more so now that Dylan and Asher have such larger roles in the third season. 3) The unintentional coming out scene between Riley and Charlie. The whole thing is just rich with tension, like I love the moment where Charlie is like you can’t tell anyone you can’t -- and she just interrupts him and it goes dead silent until she’s emphatically like I would never tell anyone... like chills, bro. Chills. And the relief that comes from Riley finally understanding why he’s been acting the way he has... so good. The follow up to this choice is the Zay and Charlie scene at the end where the freedom of someone knowing seems to allow him the strength to kiss Zay in their studio... I love them. I love it all. Whew.

Favorite performance

It’s getting hard... it’s getting tough to choose... like “Santa Fe” is up there because of the raw emotion of it and what it represents for Farkle and his arc. “Loser” is great too, mainly in concept, as we have Dasher acting as Lucas’s subconscious mind essentially and all of the cool choices in the production of the number. But I think I will have to go with “Waving Through A Window,” as that is such a standout performance in my opinion. It delivers emotionally, it has a cool flow and concept, there’s snow... whenever it comes on AMBITION shuffle I’m like oh yeah. Now we’re talking. And I love the visual of Isadora being stuck on the acting block / courtyard table, always inches from falling off the ledge but managing to avoid disaster. It’s just a really cool visual in my head. So that’s the top for me I think.

Favorite character (within context of the episode)

I literally can’t choose. I don’t know what to say. I think I’ll say maybe Charlie and Zay? Both in their storyline together as well as individuals. They’ve both got great solos (“Consideration” and “Exhale”), Charlie has his devolution emotionally and Zay finally (righteously) snaps at Angela. They find refuge, in Riley and Harper and of course each other. There are standout moments throughout the episode for their relationship -- holding hands at the top in the studio, Charlie hugging Zay in the hallway to comfort him and telling him it’s okay, the fraught moment of Charlie snapping at Zay about being at his locker which feels like a tiny unintentional step back, Charlie’s frazzled kiss on the cheek in public, the ending scene with another handhold and the softest kiss... ugh I love them. They were at a peak this episode, which makes sense considering what’s about to come...

Favorite line(s)

“You know what, you’ve got a lot to think about. Let me just get out of your hair. Best of luck with this next phase in your life, sir. Save a little social security for the rest of us provided climate change doesn’t kill us first!” --Lucas James Friar, to Eric

“I mean, but what am I going to do instead? Follow in the footsteps of my mom? I won’t survive veterinary school, Mister E. And you can only cure lung cancer once!” --Darby Winters

“Might be nice to help combat the impending danger of climate change and issues with renewable resources by studying environmental sciences or maybe aeronautical space engineering in pursuit of space materials that could be used as new energy sources. Ooh, or a rodeo clown!” --Dave Williams

“Actually, I’m near-sighted. But I wear contacts.” --Dylan Orlando, in response to Eric asking if his future plan is “short-sighted”

“I looked into “space cowboy,” but as it turns out you need a degree in aerospace engineering as well as a license to boy cows, and that seems like a lot of work. So then I thought, well, if I don’t have the capacity to work, what else is there in this capitalistic hell we call society? Sure, I could probably enter myself in human cage fights and scrap to death for spare change, but I think that would hurt after a while and to be honest, I think I’d feel a bit like a piece of meat if I took up that mantle. Who would I be fighting to impress? The bourgeoisie? Hard pass. But after some deep, probing soul-searching, I finally hit the one. Trophy husband. Now, I know what you’re thinking. To accomplish such a grand ambition, I’d have to get someone to like me. And that’s a pretty hefty task, believe me I know, but I’ve devised a work around. This is, as Dave would say, galaxy-brained thinking, Mister E. I’m going to put an ad on Craigslist.” --Lucas James Friar

“It’s easy to say you believe in someone. Showing up for them is a different story.” --Zay Babineaux

“We’re friends, Lucas. We care about you. Asher wasn’t lying about that. And when you decide you want to do something about this, we’ll be there. When you need us... we’re going to be there for you. No matter what.” --Dylan Orlando

“I don’t know if this will make you feel better or worse, but the truth is it all comes down to endurance. How long you can take it, how long you can stick it out until it ends up being your shot. The true test of who lives the dream is who hangs on… and who gives up.” --Harper Burgess

An underrated moment

There are so many it would be so hard for me to pick one if I thought about it too hard, so I’m gonna go with my gut. My favorite mini moment in the episode is during the end montage, when Dylan climbs in the window to comfort Asher. There’s a lot of small details I like about it that occur just within like 30 seconds -- Asher’s routine with crushing up his anxieties (a thing elaborated on in Cruel Summer), how commonplace it is for Dylan to climb in the window, and how he jumps into comfort mode and they both fall into that without any words at all. I just love it. And I can picture the way Dylan kisses his cheek and then his shoulder and then rests his head against him so perfectly... I adore them. They are angels.

First impression vs your reread impression

Obviously, even when I wrote this last year it felt major. Because it is. This is the turning point episode, literally and narratively. It’s smack in the middle, and from here I knew everything was going to be bigger and more, especially since we pulled the (metaphorical) trigger with Farkle. We knew that was a narrative risk, but we felt strongly about it, and we took every method we thought possible to set it up well, be cautious about it to y’all (with trigger warnings and hotlines, etc.), and then follow through on it in a way that balanced realism with care and attention. I think we managed to pull it off, but it was a great relief that you all reacted so well to it (in terms of the narrative, not like joyously LMAO) and trusted us to carry it forward. That kind of trust in a writer means a lot, and that’s what I’ll always remember when I think about this episode. Thankfully, we all survived it, and now here we are on the cusp of S3. Insane. And now onto 208... the storm is here...

#s2 reread #s3 countdown #rr: by maggie #rr: 207 #what an episode. what a time.

3 notes · View notes

spiritualgravity · 6 years ago

Text

My Keto Case Study

I can’t remember exactly when I first began to diet. The earliest recollection I have was my freshman year in college, obviously I gained the obligatory “Freshman 15.” A girlfriend of mine was a distributor for Herbal Life — the program included shakes as well as about one million herbal pills.

At some point, I hopped on the Weight Watcher train. My Mother is a “lifer” — meaning she met her goal weight, and for the rest of eternity, will be known as a Life Long member...even if she doesn’t maintain the goal weight. My entire childhood, even until today — on the cusp of turning 40 years old — she still toggles on and off diets regularly...gaining and losing the same 20-30 pounds. We are kindred spirits with a fondness for carbs, but she prefers salty and I prefer sweets.

Over the past five years, I tried WW again, another company with shakes and pills, Whole 30, and I even made up my own program which basically included not eating any processed foods.

Before I got pregnant, I was about 20 pounds overweight. Technically, I actually “should” have weighed 40 pounds less, according to BMI algorithms, but my body has always enjoyed extra padding. I don’t think my infastructure is meant to be stick thin. Going into a process where your body willingly puts on weight in order to grow a human, and you’re already carrying extra poundage, certainly isn’t ideal.

I dropped some weight after giving birth, because said human left my midsection. Then, I’d like to think, that breastfeeding knocked off a few more pounds. Many months later, I eventually got down to the weight I started with when I was pregnant — which was — 20 pounds overweight. Sigh.

{Postpartum Photos}

In June, eight and a half months after giving birth, I stopped breastfeeding, and hadn’t worked out...not even broken a sweat...since right before giving birth. My entire pregnancy, all 41 weeks, I worked out religiously at CrossFit, and then never looked back once becoming a Mommy. This isn’t because I didn’t want to do overhead squats and crazy WODs, but because my baby didn’t sleep. I was essentially a zombie for her first year of life, while juggling and navigating postpartum depression.

Over the summer, while visiting my parents’ home, a friend from childhood came over to see my daughter and catch up. To my surprise, she dropped dozens and dozens of pounds. Our figures are very similar, we could even pass for sisters from below the neck. I was impressed by her success, and curious how she did it. Meanwhile, my Mother sat in the background at the kitchen table, overhearing our entire conversation, and decided she wanted in on the “Ketogenic” program, known as Keto.

Just like my Mom, I have historically lost weight for an event. Weddings were my go-to weight loss event, particularly when I was a bridesmaid (12 times no less). This particular time around, my Mom wanted to lose weight for a cruise she was going on in September; she went on the ship 15 pounds lighter but then subsequently didn’t stick to Keto.

For the next few weeks, after my initial talk with the successful Keto friend, I cannonballed headfirst into Google research. I consumed videos, read articles, watched more videos, and then read some more articles. After my sister’s wedding in early August, during the 13 hour drive back from New York, I spent some more time reading, and reading, and reading. It probably didn’t hurt that I also became privy to photos of me from the wedding — not only did I immediately realize I sadly no longer needed to wear nursing bras with zero support (Dear God, why didn’t anyone tell me?!?), but I did in fact need to get healthier. My body and face looked inflamed, and I was tired of not being able to wear my pre-pregnancy jeans.

I asked countless follow-up questions to my successful Keto friend, and also to another gal who lost a massive amount of weight following the Keto program (under a doctor’s supervision). I decided I was in.

My personality, at a microscopic level, is all in or nothing at all; I do not know what half-assing means. Some people call this discipline, I call it not wasting my time.

So on August 13th, I officially weighed in and measured my Mommy curves to begin the journey on a ketogenic diet. I’ve had curves since I hit puberty. I embrace them, and love that my strong legs resemble tree trunks. An hour glass figure isn’t the worst card to be dealt. So when I say curves, I just mean the extra thickkkkk curves that came with pregnancy.

I wasn’t strict as far as counting macros, I simply counted (in my head) the number of net carbs I was consuming. That’s how my friend did it, so I figured I’d follow her lead. As it turned out, I personally needed to count my macros (ratio of protein / fat / carbs) in order to follow Keto correctly. I began using a free and easy app called Carb Manager for about two months until I got the hang of things and haven’t used it since because now I know what’s what.

Some people call Keto a diet, I’d like to think it’s my new lifestyle. I have absolutely no idea how long I’ll follow this lifestyle. I’m not naive enough to say for my lifetime, but it definitely isn’t going to be a shortlived stint.

This process has been incredibly humbling at a visceral level. For starters, I am embarrassed to admit how incredibly ignorant I used to be when it came to judging things I knew nothing about. One of my best friends, who is fighting a chronic heart condition, first brought up the word “Keto” over the phone last year. I immediately snubbed the idea, exacerbated, I said, “it’s just like Atkins” (which was meant to be a negative connotation), and shut down the thought of her doing this diet. For the record, it’s not like Atkins (that program touts high protein, whereas Keto is moderate protein — this is signficant because too much protein can be turned into glucose/sugar).

“The biggest form of ignorance is rejecting something you know nothing about.” - Wayne Dyer

The Ketogenic gurus are also hyper focused on not eating fake sugar, particularly lots of phony faux sweetners that are labeled “Keto” on the package, but are absolutely not Keto-approved because they will still spike your blood sugar levels as if you’re actually eating sugar.

{Source: Epilepsy Foundation}

The name ketogenic means that it produces ketones in the body. (keto = ketone; genic = producing) Ketones are formed when the body uses fat for its source of energy.

Usually the body uses carbohydrates (such as sugar, bread, pasta) for its fuel. Because the ketogenic diet is very low in carbohydrates, fats become the primary fuel instead. The body can work very well on ketones (and fats).

Ketones are not dangerous. They can be detected in the urine, blood, and breath. Ketones are one of the more likely mechanisms of action of the diet, with higher ketone levels often leading to improved seizure control. However, there are many other theories for why the diet will work.

Secondly, for as long as my temporal lobes can recall, I have been adamantly against fasting…and, I’m not exactly sure why. Again, just another position I claimed with literally zero education or facts. My husband, for years and years, suggested I workout while fasting. I swore to him that I would fall flat on my face if I ever tried such an absurd strategy.

Since I have been a devout low calorie follower, I’ve been chronically hungry. I was brainwashed to believe, with most of America, to have Fatphobia. I drank skim milk, which has a lot of sugar. I ate low fat packaged snacks, which were packed full of sugar. I ate mini meals all day long, 6 times a day. In other words, I was spiking my insulin all day long. My purse was always, without fail, full of munchies. Protein bars, crackers, apples, and a myriad of other nibbles. I would not, could not, leave my house without emergency food within arm’s reach. God forbid I got hungry and immediately turned hangry. Come to think of it, I was basically a 5′4″ child who was, at any given time, on the verge of a meltdown from being ravenousness. I didn’t quite realize it, but I was starving myself, and yet ironically, still overweight.

When I started Keto, my motivation was weight loss. But, what’s fascinating, is learning that weight loss is actually a side effect. The Ketogenic diet was originally designed for people who suffered from epilepsy and helped control their seizures. Ketogenic eating has been known to decrease inflammation in the body, eliminate diseases such as diabetes or heart conditions, sleep issues, GI troubles, and the resolution list goes on and on.

What I’ve learned is that our bodies have 2 primary sources of fuel — glucose (sugar / carbs), and fat. When you eliminate or greatly reduce glucose / sugar / carbs, your body will eventually start to burn fat for fuel. Luckily, I have a tremendous amount of excess fat that’s been waiting for an intevention.

There is an enormous amount of misinformation ‘out there’ about eating Keto, and I am the first to admit I was super skeptical before I did my homework.

Keto can get a bad rap for eating unlimited bacon, cheese, and bacon cheeseburgers. The other night, while out to eat with a group of ladies, for an appetizer I had a wedge salad (which includes veggiesc and crumbled blue cheese), and for dinner I had broccoli, asparagus, and a delicious steak. I put a little bit of real butter on my veggies. Also, the table enjoyed an array of desserts and not only did I not partake in the sugar fix, I didn’t even want any / I didn’t feel like I was missing out. In my past carb-laden life, I plunged my spoon into the dish first, and shoveled the brownie and ice cream into my pie hole as fast as I possibly could. There are varying versions of keto, that range from “dirty” to “clean.” When you eat dirty Keto, that’s what has given the program an unhealthy shadiness reputation on the streets. I fall in line closer to the cleaner side of keto, but have my dirty moments, and always eat organic, nitrate-free, etc. whenever possible. Oh and for the record, I usually drink one glass of red wine with my dinners. I may have lost weight, but I haven’t lost my damn mind. I draw the line at giving up my vino, that’s non-negotiable, and more importantly — I’ve been able to stay in ketosis. And yes I eat a small serving of fruit from time to time, berries are the best option and happen to be my favorite.

Because every one is different, literally and metaphorically, results vary. My personal journey was that I shrunk in size, but the scale didn’t have impressive numbers to show for my effort.

Come October, on the same day that my daughter turned one year old, I joined a gym. By that time, I had two months of Keto under my belt. Since I was a CrossFit junkie for 3 years pre-baby, I had to check my ego at the fitness facility’s door and slowly take it one day at a time. Besides picking up a baby thousands of times, I really hadn’t moved a muscle in 365 days. My body went through an enormous metamorphosis after making a little person, and I knew in my bones that I truly had to ease my way back into a safe grove. I sat down with a registered nurse at the gym and she did a body mass analysis using a machine that can calculate your composition make-up.

This is where my self-fulfilling prophecy manifested, in the form of a personal case study. During college, I sucked at all things math, but ironically I was a wanna-be wizard at statistics. I got a B+ and until this day, I live for stats. With this documented analysis, I was stoked to have a baseline for my Keto journey that was more than just a generic number on a scale. Sure, I have baggage with the God foresaken scale, but now I truly know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the scale does not tell the whole story.

Next up, I went to my Primary Care Physician’s office and had blood work drawn, along with a physical exam. I would also use these clinical insights as a foundation for improving my health, as well as proving that this way of eating is in fact healthy and not destroying my heart or other organs, or jacking up my cholesterol.

Come January, I started to dabble in “I.T.” — intermittent fasting.

Now, when I say I’ve done my research, I mean an absurd amount of research. For almost a decade, my profession has been based in the medical field, so I’ve become a wee bit snobby when it comes to peer reviewed, scientific-based information. Blogs and anecdotal banter do not hold a candle in my book; I want facts, documentation, and proof. I want real stories from real people. I want lab work and the truth.

From mid-October through today, I’ve worked out on average about 4 times a week for one hour at a time. I joined a gym that has a daycare and now the sun shines a little brighter. My mini me gets to socialize with little people, and I get to lift weights (which doesn’t entail lifting a little person). I no longer listen to music while working out and I’ve become unapologetically obsessed with Podcasts. I realize I’m way, way behind the digital audio fad, but nonetheless I can’t get enough of them. Despite my husband’s dismay at potentially drowning my iPhone, I even listen to Youtube videos and Podcasts in the shower for goodness sake. Oprah, Tony Robbins and their leadership development peers make regular appearances, but for the most part, I’m quite literally up to my ears in Keto-related content.

Maybe this is because I’m a real life sponge and adore the process of learning. Maybe it’s because I’ve been trained through my professional line of work that it takes listening/reading/hearing the SAME information at least 5x before you even retain a fraction of it. Who knows.

With that said, I’ve been convinced through dozens and dozens and dozens of 'classroom’ hours that intermittent fasting is a phenomenal practice for our bodies. And, if my own mad scientist research wasn’t enough, then when my friend who is currently battling breast cancer was told by her global team of physicians to do I.T. because it helps shrink those asshole cancer cells, certainly proved the point that removing sugar from our systems is a miracle worker.

I.T. comes in different forms because there are a variety of disciplines, but the most popular one is 16:8 / you don’t eat for a 16 hour window and you do eat for an 8 hour window. Within that 16 hour window, you’re sleeping for hopefully 7-8 hours of them, which basically means you don’t eat breakfast and you start your first meal with lunch. And, here’s the fun part — when you get the majority of your fuel from healthy fats, you aren’t even hungry, so fasting is actually not a big deal. Just like the rest of my journey, I worked up to this goal. I started with 12 hours, then 13, and so on.

I tried a longer fast, about 60 hours, in January. This was supposed to be some type of reset for my body. I felt like my weight loss was stalling, despite no cheats and working out. The first day was extremely difficult for me, I wanted to quit throughout the afternoon. The second day was a complete 180 degree turn — I wasn’t hungry and felt totally fine. But, I wanted to eat anyway. This experience really helped me stare my relationship with food face-to-face. I quieted my mind and asked why did I want to eat, I wasn’t even hungry. I realized that it’s the habit of eating I was used to, even if I wasn’t hungry.

Several people I know have loved ones who had gastric bypass surgery. It broke my heart to hear that there is no counseling after the fact — sure it’s available, but they weren’t utilizing it, nor was it required. And, they were back to their original style of eating and unhealthy types of food that qualified them for this surgery to begin with.

Food can be used as a drug, just like other stereotypical vices including gambling and shopping. I know that no matter what “diet” or lifestyle change I become a VIP member to, it’s just a Band-Aid until I fix the root of the issue — using food to fill me up. I also realize that history has a way of repeating itself and I’ve walked in my Mother’s shoes, witnessing her on some type of diet my entire life.

I am approaching the 8 month mark as a Ketogenic crony, and here is where things currently stand:

I’ve lost 21 pounds.

I’ve lost 14 inches between my hips, waist, thighs and chest.

I’ve lost 2-3 pant sizes — even fitting in to my “goal pants” (which I have never been able to zip up, including when I bought them years ago).

I weigh less than I did at my wedding four years ago.

I mentally and physically feel amazing and am rarely hungry. I repeat, I am not hungry. Eating fat is satiating...what a freaking concept (girl hits empty carb head against brick wall).

In all of my days walking this earth, no one has ever once told me that I was tiny. Last week, two people on the same evening said, “You’re tiny.” Granted, I am not tiny. In fact, I’m technically still overweight on the BMI algorithm, and according to...what I like to refer to as my Momma Kangaroo belly pouch... but that leads me to my next point.

One week ago I had my follow-up appointment with both the gym’s registered nurse as well as my PCP. I had both original tests re-run in order to determine, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was 100% healthy. Obviously being able to stowaway my maternity jeans, and have my leggings become baggy speaks for itself, but I wanted to know what was really going on behind the zippers and elastic bands.

At the PCP appointment, my provider couldn’t stop gloating about how much weight I had dropped since our last visit. The next day, an email came through with results from the blood work as a 3-page report. At the very end it says, and I quote, “Your lipid panel results are acceptable. Continue your Keto diet, it is not detrimental to your cholesterol.”

My body composition test results were also impressive.

BMI —from 30.2 (obese) to 27.9 (overweight)

Body Fat %: 37.2 to 35.2

Blood pressure — from 130/80 to 110/78

And what really made me jump for joy, was finding out the breakdown of my “dry lean mass” and “body fast mass.” The nutritionist, who was a skinny mini, said to me, “Your skeletal muscle mass is nearly above average. I’ve spent my whole life doing massive amounts of cardio, which is why I’m so skinny, but I should have been doing much more weightlifting and less cardio. Keep doing what you’re doing.” In other words, the stupid scale not moving exponentially and “only” losing about 20 pounds is a bunch of bologne. I legitimately have put on muscle, praise the Lord almighty.

So there you have it folks. This is one way of getting healthy. I’m sure it’s not for everyone, but it’s definitely for me. I do not feel deprived, whatsoever. The food I eat is absolutely delicious, I’m satisifed after eating, and there are thousands of Keto-friendly recipes to make the process a breeze — including yummy alternative carb staples such as breads.

I’ll sign off with a few insider tips and resources.

Drink a lot of water. People — listen to me — do this anyway. But especially if you’re doing Keto. I drink 3 liters of water a day. My goal is to drink 1 by noon, 1 by 5pm, and the rest before bed.

You’ll lose water weight and with that, electrolytes will flush out, which is why you want to replace them. Otherwise, you’ll get what’s called the “Keto Flu.” Don’t do that. Up your electrolytes (potassium, magnesium and sodium), ideally through whole foods but also in supplements (vitamins and/or electrolyte drinks). By eating Ketogenic-friendly foods, your body won’t get as much of this as it normally would and balanced electrolytes make you feel awesome.

Don’t be scared of veggies just because they have carbs. Veggies are good for you, really really good for you and have tons of fiber. They’re not all created equal of course, but enjoy your greens every single day.

I don’t recommend starting out with Keto-style desserts / sweets or Keto breads. You can work those into your meals later on, once you’ve gotten fat adapted (Google what that means), but they should be considered a treat and not a staple in your everyday regimen.

Check out these links for Dr. Fung —all things Intermittent Fasting — and Dr. Berg for all things Keto and nutrition.

You don’t have to do this in order to follow Keto, but I have enjoyed drinking exogenous ketones for the last few months. I drink it as my “pre workout” drink or while I’m working out. It gives me lots of energy and all the benefits of ketones. I have a customer referral code if anyone would like it.

This may be the first time, in all of my diet dabbling years, that I’ve ever truly faced why I treated food like medication. It’s also the first time I’ve ever tried to lose weight and it wasn’t for an event.

I’m turning 40 years old this summer and we may consider giving my daughter a sibling, if that’s what the good Lord wills. My ‘event’ milestones with a dress size to fit into has been replaced with the lifelong milestone of being a Mother. I want to be a confident woman who my daughter looks up to and admires my health from the inside — out. I want her to know that food is for nutrition, not for stuffing feelings down. I want her to know that the scale doesn’t define her worth. I want her to know that muscles and strength is sexy. I want her to know that she’s perfect exactly the way she is.

#keto #weight loss #before and after #healthy #fitness #low carb #BMI #case study #live happy #mental health #physical health #crossfit #crossfit pregnancy

3 notes · View notes

yahoosodapop · 7 years ago

Text

Friendship and growth

I might get totally hate for this but it always makes me uncomfortable whenever people use ‘friends’ as a justification for everything Rey has done. Like friendship is the end all, be all. Like the new trilogy has to end with a giant party in space with your best buds.

I don’t like drawing from my own life, and answer that #friendshipgoals isn’t equal to #lifegoals. I’m old. I’m in my 30′s and married with children. So my perspective about friendship has changed immensely over the years. Yes, I still have real life friends but my sense of belonging is different from my twenties as I do now in my thirties and in the years to come.

Let me share how I see growth in Star Wars within the context of Reylo.

The Force Awakens (VII)

Having re watched the movie a couple of days ago you notice how different Rey and Kylo Ren are in TFA compared to TLJ.

Rey shines with childlike innocence. She is looking for a sense of belonging - waiting for her family to return to her and at the same time growing to make friends. She is roped in an intergalactic conflict with the promise of adventure and seeing her heroes.

Kylo Ren is a petulant child with the highlight of TFA being some of his temper tantrums. He has the confidence of a young brat who is always trying to please the oldest ‘friend’ in his mind - Snoak. While Kylo is a child, intent on burying the weaker part of himself - he has working knowledge of the Force. Kylo kills his father in order to please the voice in his head - so the voice will stay with him.

When they meet, Kylo recognizes an equal in Rey. She doesn’t see that because her knowledge of the Force is limited and she is confused and completely out of her element.

Kylo reaches out to Rey, a feeble attempt to expand his circle, but in the end Rey chooses her friends over him. She picked a newly discovered kinship over a connection she does not understand.

The Last Jedi (VIII)

It has been said that TLJ is similar to the period of adolescence.

Kylo’s failure in TFA leads to some changes in his life. The voice in his head is displeased and Kylo is beginning to doubt and stand up to it.

Rey is tasked to bring back Luke, the hero of the rebellion against the empire. Meeting Luke is like reality slapping her in the face. It is as they say, “Never meet your heroes”.

But the most unexpected thing happens to these two. The Force bonds them together and forces them in instances that they cannot escape wherein there is no option but to talk and listen to each other.

The change in Rey is seen in a physical aspect. She drops the buns that she fashions since childhood and defies Luke (her hero/father figure) to try to bring back Ben/Kylo. She transfers her aspirations for a classical hero from Luke to Ben.

Ben forces her to confront the truth that she has embellished: that she was abandoned and her family is not coming back. She finally accepts the truth because she has already found a sense of belonging with her new family, her friends.

And Rey, wants Ben to be part of the Resistance. To be part of her family of friends.

Kylo’s growth comes from him finally striking down Snoak, the voice in his head since he was an infant. This is the moment, Ben is free to be himself. To be who he wants. There is no one else telling him what to do.

This is it. They are both at the cusp of adulthood. Both free to choose for themselves.

But both of them are not completely able to take the jump to the uncertainly that comes with adulthood.

Rey, once again, chooses her friends and the Resistance.

Ben chooses what is familiar, the First Order. His version of growth stems from the idea that it is time for him to lead and create something new using the First Order.

They do not choose the most uncertain path. They do not choose each other.

IX (?)

Neither Rey or Ben can be said to have matured enough to be an adult.

Rey grabbing the light saber from Ben, the moment he didn’t turn her way, is in many ways a sign of her own immaturity. She can talk to him but she didn’t. You can bring out the ‘her friend’s are about to die’ argument but that kind of action is reminiscent to Luke pulling out the saber in a moment of weakness.

Ben’s complete meltdown, when faced with Luke, is a very visual display of his immaturity. He is so consumed by his anger that he cannot ‘see’ that was literally in front of him.

Their choices at the end of TLJ that they want to stay within the comfort of the familiar: the Resistance and the First Order.

And this is where it will be fuzzy and I will probably end up getting hate...

I am not expecting the movie to be deep or even venture out to the idea of a lasting galactic peace and politics. I don’t expect the movie to actually go and expound on the idea that war that has been raging on for more than half a century is fueled by ‘greed’ rather than the absolute concept of good and evil.

George Lucas presented that in Ep I: The Phantom Menace and people hated the whole idea of the ‘trade federation’. Again Rian Johnson presented it in VIII and people thought Canto Bight is a meaningless side story. And I’m not sure how gutsy JJ Abrams can be with this...

So for simplicity’s sake, I won’t delve into the idea of Rey and Ben actually working out the political machinations of the galaxy and come to some unsettling truths.

Adulthood comes with uncomfortable realizations. And alongside it, it comes a willing departure with what is familiar: your affiliations and your friends.

And adulthood is often marked by a choice. And brace yourself...one of the biggest adult choices you will make is to make a choice for marriage // starting a family // a commitment to be together.

When you get married one of the first things that is said to leave your ‘father and mother’. But that also means leaving your friends and whatever is familiar to you and putting someone else first.

An actual marriage isn’t like a popularized TV sitcom (i.e. FRIENDS, How I Met Your Mother, The Big Ban Theory) - or at least not ALL marriages are like that where you can actually hang out with your friends daily/weekly/monthly. Existing friendships are strengthened by marriage not because you see your friends everyday - but rather the absolute assurance that you remain friends despite not seeing each other as often as you had before.

BAE (before anyone else) is the definition of marriage. Before parents/family. Before friends. Before organizations/groups. Before work/career. Even before your own children.

That is what I hope for in the end for Reylo.

I don’t need to see a wedding or whatever. I just want them to finally choose each other in the end. To essentially run away together and leave everything else behind.

Yes, run away like those in sappy love songs.

Because essentially, that’s a component of marriage - running away together to start something new. There is a degree of selective isolation wherein you have to work as a team.

Some people might hate this idea...because it appears that Rey will be losing her agency by being with Ben. She gives up her friends and her status to be with an unstable man with no certain guarantees a future. It is scary and it sounds like Rey is losing whatever form of empowerment she has gained. What has Ben to offer Rey when he certainly has lots of issues? Will Rey lower herself to be with someone as troubled as Ben?

I already see outrage that Rey picked someone unworthy of her. Or how come Rey, can’t just stand alone and we wonderful and fantastic by herself without any attachments. The toxic relationship narrative will be drawn up once more and how it’s set’s a bad example to women everywhere.

I do not want to demean empowerment but I feel that empowerment isn’t defined solely by being an individual unit capable of doing anything but also as a team, learning to compromise to move forward. And working as a team, takes a lot of strength and sacrifice. Commitment is not for weak at heart.

But the only thing that can make it work, is if Ben does something similar.

Sure they can realize the good/bad, light/dark, correct/wrong, just/unjust but at the center of it all is a choice to do so together.

The very core of adulthood (and to a very large extent, love or marriage) is CHOICE despite uncertainly and a COMMITMENT to face the uncertainty together.

#reylo #savebensolo #star wars meta #kinda meta.#i wrote this quickly in response to seeing so much emphasis put on buddies

64 notes · View notes

killer-killjoy · 8 years ago

Text

anyway now i’ve freaked myself out hella good bc i started birth control like two weeks ago (the day after my dads meltdown) so i was also really stressed but like i’ve felt kind of odd lately? like some days i feel really weak and like i can feel the blood pumping through my legs and arms and i just feel really shaky even after i’ve eaten food. also the dr told me to watch my sodium intake coz my blood pressure was on the cusp lmao. anyway now i’m fucking stressing myself out because i can’t tell if it’s bc of the birth control or if it’s just stress (bc last time i was evicted i was so stressed that my body kind of just shut down and i freaked and i went to the hospital) so now i’m freaked. i also learned my mom had a hereditary condition that caused her blood to clot easily, and my dad said he was meaning to get my sister and i tested but never ended up getting to it.

so now i’m freaking bc in like “what if i have a clot oh my god” and like i don’t know why i feel this way but i literally hate it bc i can’t lay down and feel good bc it’s like i feel my body pulsing… and it makes me so so uncomfortable like i hate it

like right now as i type my legs feel gross and kinda weak and i hate it

#mydiary #like am i dying

1 note · View note

prouxvaire · 7 years ago

Text

The Good, The Hard, and The Half-Finished Window Seat

Okay, listen, to be fair, it’s a mostly finished window seat.

And at this exact moment in time–the moment where I’m on a roll building assorted cabinetry, and my mom and I are having a blast working between our two houses on the weekends, and there hasn’t been a farm crisis in the last couple of weeks, and I’ve actually got the time and energy to sit down and write this post–things are good. Really good. I’m living the dream (as long as we all understand “the dream” is covered in sawdust and still doesn’t shower or do the dishes quite as much as is socially acceptable.)

But let me also tell you that while things in this moment are good, it’s only because I have been living right on the cusp of “what the actual fuck” for the last several months, unsure if I’m going to tip right over the edge into crazy-squirrel-lady-who-has-given-up-on-doing-anything-she-loves-ever-again or, you know, manage to claw my way out of that hole until things feel right in my life again.

(I’m not joking about the Crazy Squirrel Lady part. They invaded the house and started hiding walnuts in my laundry.)

Here’s the thing. My life is not now, nor will it ever be, a study in balance. I’m a creature of extremes. Of periods of time when I’m in the grips of a big project or a physical challenge and feel like I have the energy and vision and drive to take on the world… and times when I don’t. When I feel the absence of that energy so acutely that even though I know that it’s just a recovery period, and that I will find myself engaged and energized in my own life again at some point in the future, there’s a part of me that says (very loudly and incessantly), “Welp, that’s it. I guess I’m never going to do anything good again, and everything feels off in my life, and I’m just going to be exhausted forever. Awesome.”

I’m compelled to say that out loud, because what I really want to do is skip over all the things that have sucked lately and just talk about is how awesome it feels to be building all kinds of shit right now. But, even though I haven’t been in the right space to update this site as frequently as I used to, telling an authentic story is still the most important thing to me.

And life is (almost surprisingly) good right now, but only because I’m on the other side of some shit that has been really hard.

First, because I burned through a ton of energy this summer making a pretty big career change and spending a lot more time away from the farm that I’m used to.

And because I spent a solid 8 months training for a solo 50 mile hike in Iceland…

(I crushed it–finishing in 2.5 days instead of the 4-5 I planned for– but also very quickly felt the post-adventure blues. It’s a real thing.)

And then because the very worst thing happened… I lost Bubs.

I mean, I did not misplace him, obviously. I lost him to cancer (which, I know, sounds very melodramatic for a cat. After being otherwise healthy and acting normal he stopped eating one week, and then I found out his intestines were riddled with tumors and he didn’t make it out of the surgery to try to remove them.)

I get that cats are not humans, and for most people cats are not even dogs, but this cat in particular has been my companion for the last 12 years. He was literally the inspector for the very first big project I completed on my first house (the first badass pergola)…

And has been with me through every house, every relationship, every project…

And every blog post since…

I understand all of the intellectual things about how he had a great life, and we got to spend 12 years just hanging out together…

But it still fucking sucks, and I miss his cat face every day.

(Although I did find a desiccated bat on the middle of the living room rug two weeks after he died and was like HOW ARE YOU STILL DOING THIS TO ME WITH THE BATS, BUBS?! I do not miss waking up to dead bats in the bed, but I do miss my cat.)

So, that was hard.

Not only is it tough not to have him around, but within a couple of weeks, the squirrels moved out of the attic and started hiding walnuts around my house. (The one I found under the covers of my bed was the last straw.)

Also, the mice started hiding Bubs old cat food in my shoes.

That’s not… I’m not making that up. It happened a handful of times before I realized some creature was doing this to me on purpose.

I mean, I knew Bubs was good at catching shit, but I had no idea how much work he was doing on a daily basis to keep the house free of rodents.

So, just to recap: New job, big adventure, post-adventure blues, dead cat, rodent invasion, and also this has been a tough year for a lot of my friends in a lot of different ways, so just add all of that into the general mix of hard shit and, oh, I’m sorry, did you come here to read about a window seat?

Yeah, so, I managed to come out on the other side of that mess of feelings, a little worse for wear, but with my sanity mostly intact. And then I built a window seat.

As one does.

I had my HVAC guys come and move the baseboard heat for me because it required a bit of finagling. Then I bought a piece of 10′ plywood, made a napkin drawing, and went to town.

It looks civilized from the outside, but the inside is just a mess of blocking.

Originally I was going to make the storage in this thing drawers (see drunk napkin sketch above) but then I realized that after I accounted for the baseboard heat, the drawers would only be 5″ deep. So I went for the next best thing…

Flip top! (A couple of stainless steel piano hinges did the trick.)

I only expect to access this storage space once or twice a year (it currently contains my window AC unit and a bunch of canning jars.)

And just to provide context for the size of this beast…

It’s over 9′ long. Like everything else in this house, weirdly oversized, but we’re just going with it.

I finished the top of the bench with iron-on veneer on the cut ends…

Legitimately the only use this iron ever gets. Also, if you ever have qualms about iron-on veneer, I also used this exact stuff on the tables I built for the office at my last job. Those tables have been in the common area of that office (used by 50 people or so daily for the last 3+ years) and the veneer held up beautifully.

Back to the project at-hand though…

The last step was to trim out the front so that it looks a bit more in line with my cabinets.

Trim is always the critical factor in taking a project from “what the hell are you doing?” to “Huh. That looks pretty damn good.”

Also, you can’t beat the view…

It needs to be painted, obviously, and I’m in the process of ordering a custom cushion, and then if you need to find me after that, I’ll just be laying in this window seat for the next eternity.

BUT THAT’S NOT ALL.

Did I or did I not say I was on a roll with the cabinet-building?

After three years of staring at the ass-end of these cabinets, I finally got my act together and finished them.

This whole project was a study in creative problem solving and using what I had on-hand.

First, I wasn’t entirely sure how I wanted to handle the trim on these, but I knew I wanted to replicate the look of the cabinets because the big blank panel that used to be there (before I added a 3rd cabinet) kind of drove me nuts.

Because I custom-built that end cabinet with a wrap-around toe-kick, I had to get creative with the trim (which also meant replacing some of the facing on that cabinet because I didn’t think far enough in advance 2 years ago, apparently.)

And then, of course, once I figured out how I wanted to do the trim, I found out that none of my local lumber suppliers sell 3/8″ thick trim boards in any kind of usable length and width. Turns out, however, that I have a bunch of 3/8″ thick tongue and groove pine planks from an unfinished project upstairs, and if you rip the tongue and the groove off?

Perfect trim boards.

But then there was the question about how I should hold the the pieces of trim in place while the glue dried in the spots that had no usable clamping or nailing surfaces.

No problem.

Also, funny story, that is not paint in my hair. That’s legit all the gray hair the last four months seven years life has given me that I stopped coloring for a minute because I was too busy not having a meltdown to care about.

Good news, I did not have a meltdown. My hair is very gray. And the back-side of my kitchen cabinets look like this.

I am considering that the bottom trim board really needs to be a bit beefier, and weighing that against my desire to screw around with this anymore when I’ve got a couple more drawers, and secret cabinets, and at least seven sheets of plywood’s worth of built-ins I’m hoping to get done soon.

I’m telling you, it was a long, hard end to summer but I’ve got a wave of energy when it comes to building cabinets right now, and I’m going to ride it as long as I can.

from https://ift.tt/2EEiMcT

0 notes

thomasrush851 · 7 years ago