bridesmaids

My friend, HC soon to be HS came back to our hometown since she’s in between jobs for a couple of weeks.

So I spent the day with her, L, and V. And they’re both her bridesmaids but I’m not. Actually I don’t really want to write about it, it’s just a bag of mixed feelings, and I’m finally getting over it, so I don’t want to dwell.

 

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tahoe round 2

Last weekend, I went to Tahoe and went snowboarding again. This time, I went with a different group and brought my bf along.

night 1: we drove up and were stuck in Davis for literally an hour, while the whole drive took around 6 hours. Once we got to the airbnb, the first thing we did was take shots. A started making pasta for dinner for us, and we just ate, drank, and settled…(cause we settled in and played settlers of catan hahaha) the rest of the night. It was my first time playing actually, and it was alright. I passed out with Andrew before the second car of people arrived.

day 1: R? was making us breakfast, and we snowboarded. It was so fun, and I feel like I actually got a lot better this time around. Even though it took J, B and I almost 2 hours to make it down the blue diamond slope. I was starving and scarfed down some very overpriced yet unsurprisingly mediocre chicken tenders and fries, before heading up again.

The second time, I went up with my bf. I feel like I’m getting a lot better, but omg the bunny slope was actually the hardest part!! The slope was basically flat, and there were SO many people. I just kept falling and stopping and having to unstrap and reposition myself over and over. I swear, that took another 2 hours!

night 2: dirty charades and truth or dare. enough said.

scars

ugh. I can’t stop! WHY?! I started fixating on all these dark marks (hyperpigmentation?) from pimples that were slowly healing on their own since I haven’t been picking. But instead of being patient, I decided to “help out.”

I noticed that the dark spots were slightly raised, as if something was inside preventing the pimples from fully healing. So instinctively, I tried to get it out. The spots or whatever gunk I squeezed out would have probably eventually dried up and fallen off on their own, but I swear, I’m like convinced that squeezing it out speeds up the healing process. EVEN THOUGH I KNOW IT DOESN’T!  I REALLY SHOULD KNOW BETTER!!

So I pinched and squeezed and scratched and dug and clawed at my skin until that white-ish sesame seed looking thing (you all know what I’m talking about, don’t pretend) finally oozed out, leaving my poor tender face bloody and bruised.

I think this picking session partially stemmed from boredom, so maybe I should write more consistently. Keep my mind and fingers busy. And have a healthier diet.

…But also in the middle, I definitely could have walked away, but my boyfriend smoked, so I felt entitled to continue. I know, excuses…

okay well, time to slap some manuka honey on the damage, tell myself its not the end of the world, light a candle, turn on my Christmas lights, and try not sulk like usual 🙂

evacuate

I’ve gone two days without picking at my skin…knocks on wood! I think this blog is helping because I want to be honest, but at the same time, I don’t want whoever is reading to judge.

I mean, it’s only day 2. But here’s to positive thinking and good vibes!

What happened today: After a wonderful V-day yesterday, I drove home last night and had to bart into work this morning. Honestly, I was dreading it, but it really wasn’t bad at all.

Work was alright – had my 1×1 with S and he literally just watched me work to try to automate/make my process more efficient; had my 1×1 with E and he said he’d slow down the sales emails as I switch to customer support; interviewed a girl for the SDR position…

Then, I guess there was a crane on top of the building right across from us with a 2 ton cement slab that was on the verge of slipping, so we were evacuated from the office. Really random, right? There was a helicopter too, and apparently they flew in a crane specialist from Seattle. The whole street was blocked off, and the police wouldn’t let anyone in.

http://www.nbcbayarea.com/news/local/Evacuation-Orders-San-Francisco-413887593.html?_osource=SocialFlowTwt_BAYBrand

It’s actually a pretty serious, especially since there’s a storm is a-brewin’. But honestly, the whole thing was more amusing than anything to me. I got to walked home with my new co-worker, C. She lives like a street away from me, and I really like her! 🙂

After getting home, instead of working, I spent a good amount of time hunting for the Lilly Pulitzer x Starbucks S’well water bottles, calling probably like 10 SF Starbucks locations. Yeah, they all probably thought I was crazy since no one knew what the hell I was talking about. Figures, SF hipsters and techies won’t care.

So I decided to try calling a Starbucks in Roseville and trying my luck there. THEY KNEW WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT! I knew the white suburb was the way to go! Well, good for Starbucks and Lilly for doing their market research before the launch lol. I called Andrew immediately and he said he’ll go right after work!

Anyway, I’m going to head home now. This was really nice – I’m really happy and content with my day.

anxiety

Since I’m torn between a diary and a blog, maybe I’ll do both and dedicate my blog to fighting my anxiety.

I have anxiety, and I turn to picking at my face to calm me down. According to the CAPS therapist at my college, it’s a coping mechanism. Squeezing out a blackhead is a release that gives me instant satisfaction and a sense of control.

But my question is, does my bad habit stem from anxiety, or does it cause my anxiety? Because I fixate on the tiniest, non-existent imperfections and leave my poor skin inflamed, bruised, and covered with gaping open wounds. I take a step back to survey the damage, and the waves of helplessness and guilt crash. In my frenzy of frustration and restlessness, I desperately squeeze at the next microscopic bump, grasping to gain control again.

Soon I’ve completely destroyed my face. When I finally come to my senses, I’m left feeling way more guilty and hopeless than before the picking sesh. According to my Googling, I guess this condition is called Dermatillomania, and it’s a form of self-harm, like cutting.

What happened today: I was bored and overwhelmed, mindlessly answering endless emails and support tickets. In the morning, I washed my face with charcoal, which supposedly draws out impurities like dirt, oil, and blackheads. Unfortunately, it also sticks to and dramatically emphasizes the gunk in my skin.

I do specifically remember successfully squeezing out this HUGE oil plug that’s been causing a bump in my skin. Of course, now the whole area is bruised and there’s an open wound that’ll probably scar, but it did provide that instant reward and temporary satisfaction the therapist talked about.

I’m feeling even more anxious and helpless than I was before I began picking. I need to remember that picking does NOT help heal my skin heal. In fact, my skin would have eventually pushed it out anyway. In the meantime, I’ve put some healing manuka honey on the open wounds.

diary or blog

I’m torn between writing in a diary or having a blog. It’s definitely too redundant to have both, and I don’t want some in between e-journal on word either.

BLOG
pros: accountability, can quickly type, can easily include pictures
cons: public

DIARY
pros: privacy, hand-written vintage look
cons: no accountability, takes forever to write

I’m literally 50-50. What do you think?

my main bitches

It’s 2:04 on a Friday night, but I’m coming back from chilling at D’s house with my main bitches (r,a,t,d,j,j …like will I even remember who these are?!) and we just played pool, codename, and hung out. There was this one girl I literally haven’t seen since high school! I almost forgot her name…oops.

I loved it though, these chill, comfortable hangouts with solid company are my favorite. I love who I am with this group of people – I feel so myself. Like I don’t have to constantly be hyperaware of what I say/do. I feel so content right now.

I spent some time in Tahoe with this group too and that was just a blur of laughter. I taught them how to play cheers governor, and then everything after that was just lots of laughter, rage cage, and friendship.

I’m so exhausted – but I don’t know if I want to just pass out, read my book, shop online, or watch netflix.

Either way, my heart is filled with love and joy.