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Sweats vs style

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I used to have a style.

Yours truly, in 2005

Yours truly, in 2005

As soon as I got over my super goth days, I started to develop something that was truly different, truly me. My last three years at high school I may have hated, but damn I looked good. In a totally, non-egotistic way, I can say that I really killed it back then.

I guess it was a cross between headbanger — you know, with the parachute pants and shit — and punk. Then again, I don’t listen to punk, so that’s inaccurate. I dunno, it was different. It was me.

Mike's favorite picture of me, in 2006

Mike's favorite picture of me, in 2006

And somewhere along the line, I lost that sense of style. I mean, I’ve never been a fashionista or anything. I’m pretty much the opposite. I tend to slap things together, regardless of color, and walk out the door. I could care less. Everyone always compliments me, so it totally doesn’t matter whether I match; they all say I pull it off pretty well.

Not so much lately. I rarely wear anything other than sweats. Unless I’m at work, I’m sporting some form of sweats and a tee shirt.

How did this happen?

I really don’t know.

The Great Magenta Incident of 2007

The Great Magenta Incident of 2007

I guess I kind of stopped caring what I look like. I mean, I’m not in the dating scene. I’ve already found my soulmate.

I have gained some extra — try ten pounds! — weight, but I’ve been wearing sweats since way before then. My confidence is definitely down, as I can’t fit into my old jeans and stuff anymore (I had to give away my skinny jeans, dammit)! No matter how hard I try to pretend like it doesn’t bother me, it does.

I know I’m not the only one who misses her sense of style. Ever since reading Jess’s post about how much she misses the way she used to dress, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. “Yummy Mummy vs Scrubby Mummy” has played over and over in my head, and not because I’m anybody’s mom (I’m not, not yet).

Moi, 2008

Moi, 2008

Was that really only two years ago?

I know I shouldn’t let it get to me, but it does. Especially when I compare the above photo to what I look like most days now:

Sweats and bandanas, ooh la la!

Sweats and bandanas, ooh la la!

Now, please know, I don’t think I’m ugly. I do think I’m pretty, despite my all-too-common protests. I mean, I don’t think I’m horrible, anyway. But I know that I could feel so much better about myself.

It’s not even that I don’t like my clothes. I do like my clothes (but I would totally appreciate it if the pants would fit again, thanks). Part of the reason why I signed up for softball is so that I can lose some weight. The fact that my job description pretty much guarantees me spending hours and hours sitting in front of a computer so doesn’t help. (And dammit, as long as I can breathe tomorrow — stupid! sinus! infection! — I am so going for a run before I go to work with my aunt!)

I want to stop being Sweatpants Girl. I want to wear outfits when I go shopping or anywhere else in public. I do love my sweats, so I could never swear them off completely, but my goal for April is to find my style again (starting with some new stuff from Anonymous Venice). Otherwise, I might end up losing me.

Let's add another specialist to my doctor soup

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An inch of snow on even the most fragile tree branches

When I saw Pam — my PA-C — on Friday, my mission was to make sure that she looked into Crohn’s Disease. With all of the symptoms together, knowing that my aunt has Crohn’s, and knowing that my symptoms are cyclic as opposed to occurring all of the time, Pam decided to send me to a gastroenterologist. (Whom I forgot to call today and yesterday.) It also turns out, interestingly enough, that the doctor Pam referred me to is also my aunt’s gastroenterologist. My aunt said that he was the first doctor to say to her, “I don’t know what’s wrong, but your problem is real, and I’m going to figure it out,” sort of like how Pam is to me. My aunt also said that he was the one to diagnose her.

I’m probably getting my hopes up here, but maybe he will be the one to diagnose me — even if it isn’t Crohn’s.

Pam also bumped me up to 300mg of Seroquel XR. I’d been on 250. So far, I’m still not seeing any difference — at least, I don’t think so. I think it may be helping a little, but she said that if it were working, I would notice it. If I haven’t noticed a difference by Friday, I’m supposed to call her so she can bump me up again. Luckily, she’s been really cool and has given me tons of samples so that I don’t have to keep buying different prescriptions as she changes my dosage.

I have noticed that it makes me pretty fatigued. I think today wasn’t as bad as the previous weeks, and Pam said that it is supposed to ebb as my body gets used to it, but damn it sucks. I’m tired enough, you know? Between all of the hours I work, barely sleeping, whatever this autoimmune disease is, and now this med, I’m beat.

Still, I’ve been accomplishing a lot lately. Letters of Love now has a community for pen pals. It’s doing pretty well. I’d like to see more interaction between everyone, but it’s still early. Right now, my focus is building up a readership for the myLOL blog.

I’ve also been reading a lot. Right now I’m reading On the Road, and before that I read The Lovely Bones.

As soon as I finish the big client project I’ve been working on throughout the last few months, I’m going to give this place a makeover, finish my design for Freaking Bookworm, and do something about Letters of Love and myLOL so that they match (right now myLOL has a generic theme). Being a designer, I can’t stand not making them look unique. It’s time to make my digital homes look like home.

Maybe the Seroquel is working. I feel a lot more positive. Then again, my mood is like a roller coaster; I never know when it is going to change and how long it is going to remain the same.

I guess we’ll see what things look like on Friday.

Days like this I want to remember always

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The day in photos, because everyone else has done it

Mike convinced me to come to the park with him to do a little hiking, drink a lot of Gatorade, and to get my ass whooped at Scrabble. (I am so addicted now. To Scrabble, I mean. Not getting my ass beat.)

We took the main trail to the "rapids clearing," as I call it

We took the main trail to the rapids clearing, as I call it

The view is totally breathtaking; these BlackBerry pics don't do it justice

The view is totally breathtaking; these BlackBerry pics don't do it justice

He didn't even know I took this shot. Wonder if it'll make him comment for once? (Yes, he reads every post here, guys!)

He didn't even know I took this shot. Wonder if it'll make him comment for once? (Yes, he reads every post here, guys!)

Part of the bridge over the stream and more of the rapids clearing. This is where my friend John took all those awesome MySpace photos of me.
I've had these so long I don't even remember how long I've had them. Probably since I was like 14 or something. I apparently take good care of my stuff!

I've had these so long I don't even remember how long I've had them. Probably since I was like 14 or something. I apparently take good care of my stuff!

The obligatory Facebook/MySpace/pickyourpoison couple shot.

The obligatory Facebook/MySpace/pickyourpoison couple shot.

It is so good to be young and in love... and so cute how he has to break his neck to kiss me. We're both going to be very friendly with the chiropractor if we get married.

It is so good to be young and in love... and so cute how he has to break his neck to kiss me. We're both going to be very friendly with the chiropractor if we get married.

Oh yeah, and he cut his hair and shaved! Shocked, aren't ya?

Oh yeah, and he cut his hair and shaved! Shocked, aren't ya?

We brought the travel Scrabble along and played in one of the park's pavilions. He's thinking very, very hard here.

We brought the travel Scrabble along and played in one of the park's pavilions. He's thinking very, very hard here.

This is my Scrabble hand of DOOM! Be afraid. Very, very afraid!

This is my Scrabble hand of DOOM! Be afraid. Very, very afraid!

Praying to Scrabble Dictionary god for a word he can use to continue to clobber me with his witty wordsmithing.

Praying to Scrabble Dictionary god for a word he can use to continue to clobber me with his witty wordsmithing.

If only he could spell the word AGAIN, the bragging would be so much more shame inducing.

I have more pics from today, but Lil Tony is in them and I’m not sure if his and Mike’s mom Tracy would mind if I posted them here. All in all, it was a fun day.

NIN Lights in the Sky

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The NIN show last night was amazing. I know I say that about every concert I go to, but this one truly tops them all. There’s no way to even describe how incredible it is to see NIN live. I don’t think I could ever explain, in words, what it’s like. You would have to see them for yourself. We got lucky, too; apparently tonight’s show in Worcester, MA is canceled because Trent is having throat problems.

The opening act was an obviously college band called Deerhunter. They weren’t bad, but they weren’t good either. The lead singer had a strong voice with some range, but you couldn’t really hear him over the noise of the guitars. They pretty much sounded like a garage band, minus the energy. They didn’t have much of it. After every song, the lead singer said “thank you very much”. I did feel bad for them when he announced their last song and said NIN was up next, because the whole crowd went nuts. After every other song a few people clapped and cheered, but not as many as when he said “this is our last song”.

When NIN came on, though, you could feel the energy building. On tour with Trent Reznor were Alessandro Cortini, Josh Freese, Justin Meldal and Robin Finck. I’ve never seen NIN live before but I thought the band he put together for this tour was pretty kickass. Mike said they are the best, so I’ll back him up. (:

I took some photos and video before a security guy came over and made me stop. You can see official photos on NIN Flickr page. (Some of my favorite parts of the show were the desert, the red backlights, the red and white buttons (which one of the band members came over and pressed) and the ghosts. I really loved the rain part of it, but I can’t find any photos on their stream and couldn’t take my own. The screens were set up to make it look like it was pouring on the stage, and one screen was like the glass of a window. Then someone wiped away the “steam” on the window and you could see the band through a little looking-glass. It was fucking awesome.

I do have one regret about the night: Close to the end of the show, Trent told everyone they would be hanging out at Denny’s down the street if anyone wanted to come hang out. Since Mohegan Sun is huge and a time-warp, we had no idea where Denny’s is. It so would have rocked to hang out and eat breakfast with someone I admire so much.

That hand at the end was the security guard. He totally ruined “Closer,” dammit.

NIN Lights in the Sky

NIN Lights in the Sky

NIN Lights in the Sky

You can view the rest of the photos I took here, in the NIN Lights in the Sky album I made.

And just in case you wanted to hear the rest of “Closer”: