“Ides” sounds so ominous. But that’s neither here nor there.

2012/02/20

So we’re coming up on March now, and that only means one thing: lots of reminders of my failed marriage. As you (may or may not) remember, Katsu and I got married on St. Patrick’s Day 2007. So, this time of year, reminders are everywhere. Before the wedding my mom stocked the house floor-to-ceiling with Irish Blessings and green ribbon. All my aunts bought me four-leaf-clover kitchenware. Even my own shamrock tattoo, which I got before I even KNEW Katsumi, seems to taunt me now with a hint of derision.

And yet.

I met with a couple this past Saturday who is having an Irish-themed wedding on March 9, and I felt compelled to share my own tale of Gaelic matrimony. Of course, one can’t tell that story without the punchline: “and then we got divorced”. I should be horrified – THEY were probably horrified – but truly, it was the happiest day of my life. Certainly the best St. Patrick’s Day. So why shouldn’t I share? Why should I feel this pall over everything? It happened, it was awesome, and then, like most things, it was no longer. But the echoes, the ripples, have such a large pool.

I’m not ashamed to admit I was wrong.

2012/02/15

So just when I was about to give up on exercise, I lost five pounds! Or at least, that’s what my scale tells me, when it’s not telling me I’m fifteen pounds lighter than I know I am. But woah! Hey! This whole “moving around” thing really works!

The concept of losing weight, of course, got me thinking more about being eating disordered. I’d have thought it would be triggering, gaining all this weight, and then I thought that losing weight also might set me off-kilter. Thankfully, I’m not finding that to be the case. I don’t like the gym quite enough for it to become a negative behavior, and, since I’m burning off some calories working out, I don’t feel as compelled to use other bad habits to offset my long-standing love affair with food.

Not it was ever about food, really, it was about feelings – feelings I didn’t want to have. I ate to distract myself and the other was a release. I did it when I was angry sometimes, when I wasn’t sure what else to do, and then it just became a utilitarian function. A fact of life. A habit. This is what I feel like my shrinks don’t get: by the end, it was just something I did. It had no meaning! And maybe that’s why it has been (relatively) easy for me to give it up.

This is all very new to me, right, so let’s re-evaluate in a month or two, but I’m beginning to think that my little sister might have been on to something with this exercise thing. Her and a bajillion other people.

An Anniversary, of Sorts.

2012/02/14

So I’ve never been much for Valentine’s Day, although I’ve never had a horrible one. I just don’t really need another reason to spend money on people, and they probably don’t need to spend any money on me. Given my ambivalence, it’s a little ironic that my self-selected anniversary with Katsumi fell on 2/14/02. Four years later, we got engaged. Remember that? I do. Vividly.

It seems an ocean of time ago.

And I’m sitting here thinking about it, and it’s kind of blowing my mind. We didn’t have Jake, things hadn’t yet fallen apart, and everything looked pretty damn rosy. Who knew then the way our lives would take us? It’s kind of cruel, when you think about it, that innocence. And it’s all here – it’s documented. Most of it, anyway.

But whatever. Onward and upward. Tonight B! made me broccoli rabe, which he hates and I love, and I’m sipping some Malbec and promising myself I’ll go to bed early tonight. It’s certainly not where I thought I’d be on that night ten years ago when Katsu and I first knocked chopsticks at Betty’s, and definitely not where I thought I’d be the night we got engaged. But it’s not all a downer. I mean, after all, tonight I *did* get the broccoli rabe.

Unsent Tweets (geekery, etc)

2012/02/13

@FCPX: You are bizarre. I see certain arguments for you, I suppose, but if I can’t open a 6.0.6 XML I’m totally calling BS.

@Pinterest: Why don’t you let me message other users? And how many people are actually following me, anyway? Profile says 78, Boards say 125.

@AVIDMC5: I know you’re supposed to be better than this. Show me your power.

Free Advice: Pinterest edition

2012/02/08

I have this picture of how I used to look. I’m wearing cutoff jeans, a sports bra, and a bike helmet, and I’m fist-pounding the sky on a bridge over Storrow Drive. You can see each and every one of my ribs. It’s online somewhere I’m sure, but I’m too lazy to go find. Anyway, this look is probably not healthy. It’s probably what the tabloids like to call “scary skinny”. But I didn’t WORK for that body – I just purged myself into it. It actually got awkward – people would see me eating whatever I was eating and ask me how I did it, how did I stay so thin? “Bulimia” was always on the tip of my tongue as an answer (I’m nothing if not direct) but a polite smile and a nod would usually suffice.

These days, nobody’s asking me how I did it.

And so I’m going to the gym.

I was kind of all whatever about having to actually EXERCISE my way into a body that didn’t make me want to self-immolate, until I saw this image on Pinterest. “YOU EARN YOUR BODY”, it says, in boldface white-on-black, and underneath are a series of resolutions ending with the vow: “I will earn my body”. And this? This totally threw me.

I realized, suddenly, that this body has always been a “thing” to me, something Other, and whatever it looked like was not good enough. Whatever it FELT like was not good enough. In fact, whatever it felt like was usually pretty bad. But now, now that I’ve kind of made this commitment to work myself back, I wonder if maybe, finally, I’ll feel at home in this body. I wonder if one day I’ll have a body I’m proud to earn.

Carpe Diem?

2012/02/07

From this article, which trumpets the value of morning time.

Savor Something.Whether you like a big breakfast omelet or prefer toast and tea, eating food you enjoy can’t help but affect your mood for the better. Stock up on the ingredients you need to create your favorite breakfast, so they’re always in your cupboard first thing to lift your mood. But more important, take a few minutes to really experience and savor breakfast, even if it’s just a glass of juice. Allowing yourself to be absorbed in something you enjoy is a wonderful way to begin the day.

And I just had to think: would drinking wine count? I enjoy that QUITE a bit.

To Market To Market

2012/01/31

So I’ve been thinking a lot about marketing lately. As most of you likely know, I’ve got this little video production company on the side, but what most of you might NOT know is that I also take pictures! Great pictures! Lots of them! While you ponder that, let me ask you this:

If you were in the market for boudoir photography, how would you go about finding it?

It’s a market I want to get into, and I have some really amazing work samples, but I can’t see it being anything but shady just tossing this stuff up online. Like, I just went to upload some so I could link off that last sentence, but I got worried and chickened out at the last minute. I know there’s people out there that read, and I know that at least SOME of you are ladies, so! Ladies! Riddle me this! How would YOU want to be presented with boudoir photography?

I don’t think I’m totally comfortable with Ketamine.

2012/01/30

I’m on Twitter a lot for work, and, though it’s work and not play, I often find links to interesting content that’s not entirely suitable for an RT. As an example (and per the above):

Ketamine for depression? I don’t remember who I found this from, but it’s kind of blowing my mind. My time on the jam band scene let me witness firsthand what Ketamine can do, and I don’t think it was lifting anyone’s depression. The people I’ve seen on K look more like drunken zombies than free spirits, but hey. Maybe it’s all in the dose.

The next one is from @prajjwalpanday, who lives in not-too-faraway Worcester, and today sent out this link about Devil’s Lake, ND. Devil’s Lake is a tiny town in the middle of NOWHERE, and I spent a lot of time there shooting for the last film I worked on. Like, HOW TOTALLY RANDOM IS THAT. I’ve never heard Devil’s Lake talked about, even in (relatively) nearby Fargo, much less in Scientific American! It was a very Woah moment in my head, let me tell you.

And finally, @mashable taught me how to see who un-friends me on Facebook. So be on the lookout, dudes, because I’ve got my eyes open.

***Edited to add:

Want to follow *me* on the big TW? @erinire, of course, and also @ecaproductions.

And then I saw it:

2012/01/29

ECA_9089

ECA_9092

 

ECA_9103

 

ECA_9109

ECA_9111

 

Rural Pennsylvania, 8am on Sunday, and I’m shooting an actual nuclear power plant. Nuts! See more on Tumblr.

it’s kind of miraculous that I’m even alive.

2012/01/24

I’m not really an app junkie, not that you’d know it from looking at my iPhone. I have apps for everything: sending a FedEx, making a Skype call, simulating the sound of an audience laughing, and buying expensive video equipment. But, I mean, the only apps that I actually USE are Facebook, Twitter, and Zynga Poker. I keep the rest around “for fun” – aka “for when I’m bored”.

Predictably, the other day, I was bored. I was also bored of my apps. So I decided to install a NEW app, one to help me on my way back to skinny jeans. It’s called “Lose It!” (exclamation mark intended) and it’s essentially a digital version of the little calorie notebook I kept in high school except ten times more awesome. It knows the nutrient stats for eating three and a half swedish fish, for example, and how many calories are in one ounce of Triscuits. This is beneficial in two ways: 1) fuels my odd penchant for metrics /and/ 2) accommodates my strange eating habits.

However, I’m beginning to see the dark side of “Lose It!” as well. It’s one thing to be like, oh yeah, OK, today I ate a hamburger, some nachos, a stick of celery and three glasses of red wine, but it’s quite another to see it all there totaled up for you – HAMBURGER (FAST FOOD) NACHOS (FAST FOOD) RED WINE 18oz – and be like, that’s what fueled my body today. Well, sweet.

If America runs on Dunkin’, I must run on saturated fat. Or alcohol fumes. One or the other.

 


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