Two-Headed Blog

With my first year of grad school now safely behind me, I was pleased to discover that I lacked even a shred of fear going into the start of the semester this week. As Dwight and I ate dinner (Hideaway pizza) Monday night before my first class, I marveled over how relaxed and happy I was. I remembered exactly one year earlier, when I’d spent the entire day leading up to that first class feeling like I was two seconds away from projectile vomiting. I remembered walking into class that night, and thinking that it wasn’t too late to turn around, walk out and forget it all. I remembered envying the people in my class who all seemed to know each other, while I sat in the back, alone, self-conscious, and utterly terrified.

This year is a drastically different experience. I know several of my classmates from prior classes. Having rocked a 4.0 all last year, I know that I can handle the work. Hell, I’m not even terribly freaked out about the “in-class participation” and public speaking-type stuff anymore.

Most of all, I’m just thrilled to have a full schedule again. Organizational Behavior on Monday nights. Nonprofit-Public Sector Relations Tuesday nights. Yoga on Wednesday nights. I love looking at my calendar and watching it steadily fill up with stuff to do. It means less time in my head, which after last week, is a great relief. I already feel happier and more peaceful.

The only problem is that after reading Atlas Shrugged (I have about 30 pages left to finish – the end of the Taggart tunnel is finally in sight), it feels kind of strange to be studying in school the very things that book was kind of against. There’s a little bit of the ol’ cognitive dissonance going on right about now.

This past Saturday night, Dwight and I finally caught Rainbow around the Sun at the OKCMOA. Rainbow is the Fellowship Students film that we’ve had ample opportunity to see this year (and missed every chance).

My respect for the Fellowship Students’ music has increased tenfold. Rainbow is entertaining as hell, and worth a viewing for the music alone. I also have to give it the award for Best Use of George Lang in a Feature Film.

Most of all, I really appreciated seeing the Oklahoma City I know (and am growing to love) represented on screen. As Dwight puts it:

…the filmmakers used the city (Oklahoma City) in a way that was recognizable to me. It’s the city I know. Is that Sidecar? I think that may be Saturn Grill. Is that the bathroom at The Conservatory?

As much as I love seeing my city on the big screen, I hate the way it’s been portrayed in the few locally set and produced films I’ve seen (I’m thinking of the abysmally awful Sam and Janet, in particular). It often seems that, in a desperate bid to prove that OKC is just as cool as New York, Los Angeles or Chicago, the filmmaker shows little more of the city than a few strategically chosen skyline shots. It’s as if they take one square block of downtown OKC (the one with the tallest buildings) and then try to make it appear as if the entire city is like that.

Look! We have big buildings! We’re a crazy-cool urban metropolis!

Then you have the shots of characters wandering around those skyscraper-lined downtown streets late at night, before returning home to what is a generic, personality-less version of a trendy loft. This isn’t to say that OKC doesn’t have trendy lofts and a handful of modestly high-rise buildings, but I don’t know many hipsters who hang out in Couch Park on a Saturday night.

And that’s why Rainbow was so refreshing. It showed OKC as I see it – not the shiniest or most glamorous city, but one with a few hidden gems and a personality of its own.

Speaking of hidden gems – after the movie, we had an incredible dinner at Trattoria Il Centro. I’ll never understand why this place isn’t packed to the brim every time we go. It’s really not that much more than you’d pay at Olive Garden, and the food is infinitely, indescribably better. Plus, as Trattoria is situated just a couple blocks’ walk away from the OKCMOA, it makes for a great dinner/lunch spot before or after a film.

Trattoria’s main draw for us has always been their arugula pizza. But since we’re now able to successfully replicate this pizza at home, I moved on to something new and different – the Chicken Crespelle ($14.95). The menu describes it as, “spinach, wild mushrooms & pulled chicken in a chickpea crepe baked with garlic cream & fontina cheese.”

I chose well.

It was like a cross between fondue and chicken casserole. Cheesy. Rich. Mushroomy. Total comfort food. Unfortunately, it was so rich that I was unable to make it through even half of my portion, but Dwight was happy to help a sista out.

I can’t wait to have this again when it’s like, a really cold December night or something. It would be perfect.

Two-Headed Blog has really been rockin’ the self-hatred this week.

Apologies to readers for the self-indulgent whininess you’ve found here the last few days, but the greatest benefit I receive from blogging is the opportunity to write down all the crap that’s been hurting my head, work through it and move on.

I don’t know what’s been going on with me this week. I’ve become stupid and irrational, obsessing over things like my perceived ugliness and unhealthiness. I’ve felt like even my best efforts at working out and eating right aren’t good enough, and never will be.

As a result, I’ve completely gone off the deep end, regressing into something of an eating disorder mentality. I was mad at myself when I ate a cookie the other day. Yesterday, Dwight attempted to give me a small piece of delicious smoked cheddar, and I made him eat it, instead. I’m obsessing over food, not allowing myself to eat when I’m hungry, and as a result, I find myself constantly hungry, which only makes my general mood that much worse. And I can’t seem to exercise enough. Last night, in addition to having already walked 20 or 30 minutes at work, I ran extra fast on the treadmill, in an attempt to –yes – hurt myself.

The fact that I’m doing this is what makes me hate myself most of all. These behaviors represent everything I never, ever want to be. This kind of obsessive, self-punishing mentality is far unhealthier than anything I possibly could’ve eaten this week.

This morning, I think I feel myself coming out of it a little bit. I’m hopefully returning to a more balanced state of mind. I enjoyed a pleasant, invigorating, yet non-punishing walk this morning, and am looking forward to some takeout from Van’s tonight. And no treadmill until tomorrow.

This is why I refuse to “diet.” Ever. No matter what. If I still occasionally lapse into this sick behavior even when I’m purposely making an effort not to obsess over food and exercise – you can imagine what I’m like when I’m on some sort of restrictive, prescribed “plan.”

It ain’t pretty.

This awful week has simply confirmed what I already knew – diets are self-defeating and simply stupid. Food is not, and never should be, the enemy.

Thank Jeebus school starts on Monday. I’ll be too busy to be so horribly self-indulgent, and I’ll have more important things (like public-non-profit partnerships) to worry about.

You know those yellow “Safe Place” signs you sometimes see posted outside libraries or convenience stores? I’d like to stick one of those signs on the Shapely Prose blog.

I can’t help but wonder – if only I’d visited this site earlier in the week, could all of my obsessive self-hatred been avoided? Strangely enough, I even found a recent post about finding a fat-friendly gym that might’ve made me feel so much better if only I’d read it Tuesday or Wednesday, when I was scared of my impending yoga class.

I take so much comfort in reading the words of women (and a few men) like myself. These people get it. They see the paradox in berating fat people for not exercising, but then judging them when they dare to leave the house and exercise in public. They see the stupidity of dieting and of hating yourself. And as many of them have far larger balls than I, they’re happy and willing to call bullshit on all of it.

So, tomorrow is supposedly the big day when Obama finally announces his running mate. Who do you think it’s going to be? Who should it be?

If you’re reading this after the decision has been announced, what do you think of Obama’s choice?