weird again

Made it home without incident. Went straight to bed. Got out of bed briefly for awesome dinner, which despite me feeling kinda oogy, was super-tasty and went down well. (Z made jerk chicken and beans-n-rice with green peppers. Also he cleaned the kitchen. WIN!)
Went straight back to bed. Slept a further 12 hours.
Awoke at 6 in time to take a shower then go back to bed for another hour.
Finally crawled out of bed and drove to work.
I feel like someone inflated a balloon in my head and left it there. It doesn't... exactly... hurt... except sometimes it does...
Took two ibuprofin, my old standby, at 9, and am having trouble with the eye-focusing, and not really doing too well at temperature-regulation... but the head just feels very large and hollow. So. Getting stuff done in case I can't make it past noon. I wish they'd let me turn the lights out in here, but it's dim and cloudy today so that's not going to go over well.
Phooey.

I'm upset that I didn't skate. I was very pouty yesterday during my commute home, by myself, because I don't want to be weak and useless and wussy like this. I really, really, really want to be able to make it through a fucking week. My schedule's not *that* demanding. I have time for at least 7 hours of sleep most nights. That used to not be a problem. And what pisses me off is that, of course, it's the things I want to do, rather than the things I have to do and wish I didn't, that I have to let slide. So I'm really disgruntled about not making practice last night, but I'm feeling pretty grody today, so my backup plan of going to open skate tonight is unlikely to, you know, happen.

Thbbbbppptt.

Maybe next week I will not be whiny.

Attn: Saucies

It looks like one of your members has linked you all to my blog again and has stated that I'm whining about the reffing in the last game and saying terrible things. I'm just guessing that's what's been said. Please prove me wrong, you're welcome to.

So I will here state, to save time, because I really am in need of a restful weekend OFF at last:

• I never said that the reffing was the only thing that led to the outcome that occurred. You guys totally outplayed us, and yeah, it was an awesome game. I never said otherwise.
  
• I do, however, feel that there were issues with the reffing, and am worried that if they do not improve, actual safety issues will only worsen. I sincerely believe that the skaters have really stepped up their game but for one reason or another (and there were many reasons), the refs were not able to do the same.
  
• That is not to say I do not respect the refs: I do, and their job is nearly impossible. Telling people who point out, however, that they still have shortcomings, that they don't support the refs, is bullshit.
  
• I'm really not interested in causing drama. Nor am I interested in debating the ways in which I suck. I am also not at all interested in defending points of view I never claimed to have.
  
• I really, really wish whichever of you consistently links my posts to the Saucies' Yahoo! group would at least leave a comment so I knew the onslaught was coming. I say a lot of things, some of which, when removed from context, are fairly cumbersome to re-engage with in order to defend. A little time to reread what I wrote and prepare myself would probably help.
  

But the "drama"? Most of the "drama" that had me so wound up and terrified this week is that last year, when I tried to engage in a reasonable conversation about things I saw that bothered me, I got slapped down for things I never said, and when I finally managed to convince the people slapping me down that that wasn't what I'd said at all, and they made up with me, that's not what got remembered: People don't remember that I owned up and resolved the drama last year. All they remember is that there was drama.

So I've learned that it doesn't really matter: the point is, I said something someone doesn't like, and no matter whether I manage to convince that person that my viewpoint was reasonable, I will always have said something someone didn't like, which apparently invalidates me as a person.

So, I just had my first migraine ever yesterday because I've been so stressed. Suffice to say, I'm really not interested in debate. I didn't actually say anything any of you could legitimately object to.

So please go start drama somewhere else, because I actually already finished with it, and you're too late. If I were interested in drama, I'd be blogging about... well, I'm not. So fuck that. There, you got me to self-censor. Are you happy?

No, of course not, because the very nature of the problem dictates that no one is ever happy.
Spare me the drama.

back to real blogging

Sorry. So, back to my other obession, of late, besides the goddamn roller skating: Being fat.
(I could combine the two, and share the latest Super Confidential email thread going down on the Knockouts' Super Secret Private Messageboard. Why don't I do that, just to be illustrative? This is what we are discussing, in secret.
M: Hey, some of you were asking where I got that fishnet shirt I was wearing under my jersey last night. It's on We Love Colors dot com.
H: Hey neat! They have fishnet gloves too! And... fishnet dresses. Uh... I think I'll spare you all that.
M: I think I'd look like a trapped manatee in a fishnet dress.
S: Dude, I would look like a friggin' deli ham in a fishnet dress.
M: .... I know what I want for Easter!
Those of you who don't know S, the image of her in a fishnet dress is just about good enough to eat. But anyway. That's our current super-secret discussion. I know, we are completely underhanded and devilish bastards.)

Anyway.
I read this today, from JunkFoodScience: The Results of the Largest-Ever Study on Healthy Eating: It doesn't fucking matter what you eat. Most diseases that kill you are caused by smoking, inadequate health care, or genetics. Mostly genetics.
Seriously. It doesn't fucking matter how much you weigh, either.
(In fact, there are also studies that point out that obesity actually decreases your risks of dying of... well, almost everything.)

So tonight Z and I grated cheese onto the Shepherd's Pie he made for dinner, in celebration of It Doesn't Fucking Matter What You Eat Day, which we decided we'd celebrate today.
He also, over beer, complained about all the people that throughout his life have mocked him for being too skinny and have harassed him to eat more. We drank to that, and happily proclaimed that it didn't fucking matter. We're free.

Although I am obligated to point out that on more than one front, I'm doing better than him; as a female, I'm almost guaranteed a longer life, and as an obese person, I have a lower risk of death from everything than he does as an underweight person.

For the record, Z has a BMI of approximately 17, while I have a BMI of about 30. So there. We are both going to die.
Eventually.