Journalling For a Clear Mind

I made an impulse purchase. I'm not proud of it. My Amazon Store card debt is becoming a problem... for another day. I got a new laptop. My MacBook that I've had for at least seven years was making obscene noises, overheating, and working at a snails pace.

Point. Click. Within three days I had a new HP Chromebook. Amazon you're creepy with your insanely fast delivery. Never change.

Who's ready to publish me? 

My shiny new gadget is supposed to make it easier for me to keep this baby updated. I don't have to rely on posting while I'm at work. I can tell you on a whim exactly what I'm feeling. Are you ready for this?! We're going to get to know each other on a deeper level. So get ready with your commenting.

I kid.

Tonight laying leisurely on my couch I do want to tell you about my journalling. For the last month it's become part of my nightly routine. I'm having a-ha moments. A-ha moments are crucial to personal growth. My penmanship is also looking a little more fanciful gliding on the page. 

so.much.thinking.

Having sweaty hands makes writing a bitch. Did you see one of my tips on that? Despite the aggravation that comes with smeared ink and soggy pages writing can be a very therapeutic processing tool. If writing gets you down maybe try typing? What are some methods you use?

Dating, career exploration, and general life motions have my thoughts swirling out of control making me anxious. My writing allows me to catch them as I can. Like butterflies in a net I can't get them all. Even if I'm only able to wrangle a few in I can still come to those a-ha moments. As I'm writing the clutter becomes organized and I can make sense of what is taking up space in my brain.

This next week presents a challenge for me. One that I have seen before. Out of paranoia I'm not going to tell you all the details. I'm putting a concerted amount of effort into this challenge. Something I would have never done before. My motto has been "what will be will be." That's great for protecting myself against failure. But what opportunities have I missed out because I was too afraid to try? No longer can I just let things happen. When energy is put in then of course what is meant to be will be. I can say I tried if it doesn't work out. If it does work out I will have the great satisfaction of knowing I didn't miss an opportunity just because I didn't work for it. The moment did not pass me by. 

It's easy to get over failure. With failure comes an end point. You can move on. Sometimes failure will present a starting point to learn something new. When you don't put in the effort you're left with "what could have been?" That is called regret. Regret can last a lifetime. For.ev.er. 

On this a-ha-I-gotta-put-effort-into-things realization kick I wrote a mock letter to Michael that I hope to rewrite and send later this month. The idea of sending a letter and the thoughts I want to convey have been buzzing in my head. I finally penned it down. My mind feels a bit more clear. Writing this letter is me getting over the fear of feeling like a fool. If Michael doesn't vibe with this letter I will be upset. I will feel like a fool for trying. I will get over that upset. I will not feel like a fool forever.  Not sending the letter will mean a lifetime of what could of been between us? Why chance that?

Taking matters into my own hands. I'll let you know how it works out.

What do you want to go after? What do you need clarity on?

bkr Water Bottle Review

My morning ritual at work involves tossing my bag on the floor, firing up my computer, and going to the break room to fill up my water bottle. 

Water is bland. Not very exciting. Just kind of there. Serving a vital function I still trudge through drinking water. I started sipping from straws which adds a dash of fun to my water imbibing experience.

Hey there old girl. I won't forget you.

Nalgene's 500 mL bottle in bright green has been my trusty water bottle for years. Anyone who has attended the Sundance Film Festival will have this exact bottle. I've been three times. I've got quite the collection. I give a nod when I see someone with the same bottle around town as if we're rooting for the same ball team. It's a great size and has served me well. Zero complaints.

Then I met the bkr water bottle. It makes drinking water a touch more delightful. It's stylish. It has a wonderful silicon shell that covers the well crafted glass bottle. I'm amazed by the spout. The water pours out and slinks down my throat. Even the bottle cap is crafted in a way that makes it fun to hold.

That spout.

That fun cap.

I'm really crushing hard on this water bottle.

It's ridiculous. I know.

At $30+ a pop it's a bit of a splurge. A girlfriend gave it to me as a gift. I just bought one on Amazon as a gift spreading the bkr love. 

I wanted to share it with you because of that silicon grip. After having ETS surgery holding a grip is very difficult. Things slip out of my hands often. My hands shake a bit more in fear of dropping things. 
For sweaty hands that also have a hard time keeping a grip or opening things the design serves you too. The silicon won't slide through your slipper finger tips. The texture against a wet hand is soothing. 

Check it out.

A Breezy Renaissance Faire

Huzzah! Cool weather and turkey legs make for a happy HH lady at The Renaissance Pleasure Faire. 

Each spring Irwindale hosts a renaissance faire that is an absolute blast. Assuming you know how to let loose and get into the spirit. I do not don any faire garb. The renaissance costume has very loose interpretations by faire goers. You'll see a mix of the Avengers mixing with Star Wars, Doctor Who inspired get ups, I spotted a woman in bright sixties polyester florals, steam punk interpretations, and so on. Essentially, anything goes. Let your inner personality that challenges social norms fly.

Just because I didn't dress up per say doesn't mean I didn't think about my outfit carefully. 

This is the face of excitement.

Picking my outfit

1. Checked the weather. A simple act that I am learning to make part of my daily routine. I scored big time with partly sunny day with a high of 75. Last year was a scorcher in the high 80s.
2. Shorts were a must. I knew I didn't want to wear pants. My legs needed to see some sun even if just partially. Loose jean shorts wouldn't show any unexpected sweat and could get dirty. Renn Faire is a dusty dirty place. Which leads me to...
3. Tennis shoes also a must. I rocked a pair of vans I've had since college that are saved for occasions such as these. Closed toed shoes are the life of a sweaty foot sufferer. Even if you have dry toes I don't recommend flopping about in sandals. Your toes are going to get real nasty in the dirt. The previous year I wore a cute pair of flats that I ruined with the oh so comfortable mix of sweat and dirt. 
4. Lastly, I was exceptionally pleased with my choice of a long tank top and loose airy sweater. The sweater is a very light material that breaths. Oh how it breathes beautifully. Yet when it got a little too breezy in the late afternoon I felt it's warmth. Straight up black magic sweater. My tank underneath wicked away the body sweat.

I'm stoked this is becoming an annual tradition with my friends. A joyous event chugging cider, throwing ninja stars, shouting for joy to see "The Queen", having a chat with a witch, pretending to like turkey legs, falling in love with a knight during a jousting show and eating breaded sausage. 

Support your local renaissance faire.

Happiness Is Personal

Another one bites the dust. I say that partially in jest, partially in frustration. The latest fella I was dating called things off last week. My heart is torn because I know it's for the better but I grew quite fond of him. I approached dating him differently than I had with any other guy. I had fun. I didn't put high stakes on things.

I've been watching a lot of Bob's Burgers lately. 

He hasn't processed his last breakup. A year or so relationship. They lived together for part of that time. Knowing this, I moved very cautiously. Red flags went a blazing when he added me on Instagram and there were very recent photos of them together. One was even captioned, "Best girlfriend ever." I approached it calmly, and asked for him to give me a bit of context. But before I texted him I had a good ten minutes of freaking out and emergency trip to the bathroom because my insides went haywire. He is not aware of said freak out. Social media has a way of throwing wrenches in perception. I recommend avoiding all adding/friending until once you're comfortable together.

After I heard his side of the breakup it was clear the relationship's end was a long time coming. I mean the woman moved out. That's not the most convenient thing to do. I pried a bit to see if he had some time to heal. To be sad. To wallow a bit. To realize he's still a whole without her. It seemed like he had moved on. He even took down the photo that threw me for a loop. I felt good but still weary. 

When he sent the initial text to say he needed to stop seeing me it didn't come as a surprise. Regardless, it is a bummer. That said, my level of respect for him has gone through the roof. His ability to admit he feels broken, and doesn't want to drag me through his road to recovery makes me warm inside. I want to shower him with love because he has done the right thing. Unfortunately, the right thing for me to do is to give him space. My ego smiled when he said I was something special. 

We had a very open and honest conversation over the phone a few hours after the initial text. It was strange because I didn't start sweating during the call like I normally do when on the phone. I care for him and I was able to share with him how I've worked through depression. Human to human I understood where he was coming from. As we spoke it was clear we have a real connection. Unlike Hansel who wasn't ready to love nor receive love, this man is very loving. He is a breath of fresh air. Except, despite how hard he tried, he couldn't open up to receive my affection.

A sense of hope comes over me dreaming of the day that he might call, text, or email to say he's ready. The door isn't closed but I do feel foolish holding that door open. We agreed I wouldn't wait for him but I can't say I'll be jumping into anything soon. I need a break from dating. If someone crosses my path I'll trust my judgement to know if it's right. God knows I've learned enough lessons in dating in the past few years. With each lesson I better be closer to the right partner. I have to trust that I am or I will go crazy. 

I'm not in pieces. On Friday night after a few drinks and a fun night with friends I cried on the drive home. Bourbon has a way of bringing out pain. I also made a killer playlist on Spotify that I'm still impressed with sober. Luckily those are the only tears I've shed.  I'm in a place where I'm capable of letting someone in. I've matured in the way I approach dating, and I'm comfortable with who I am. In a relationship or not I am a bad ass independent human being. He's not right now. There's no reason to be in tears. But how many more lessons do I have to learn? My patience level is waning. Then I read an article like this one that reminds me I have many years ahead. 

I read Maria's beautiful post that touches on being alone and embracing independence. Maria is a fellow sweater, she's one of us. I encourage you to read her work. Maria's words remind me it's a personal journey to happiness. You can't force anyone to get there. It has to be on their own accord. I've done that, and hopefully Michael can get there too.   

In good news, I'll get back to more sweaty related posts soon. A wonderful sweat free Renn Faire trip is worth sharing, and the very sweaty lunch I had when I learned my boss was putting in her two weeks.

Let's be in touch.

Living With Women

How are things with you?

What are you up to? 

Did anything crazy happen to you during the eclipse this week?

Things with me are going. Just going. Fighting to stay engaged in my current surroundings. Embracing my wonderful surroundings.

Did I tell you I live with three other girls? It's a god damn sorority house and we're all in our late 20's. Except it's actually nothing like a sorority because we all have jobs and are pretty emotionally stable and none of us use a flat iron. One of the gals is here temporarily before she begins grad school. In June we'll be back to just the three of us. 

Fresh flowers and real talk at the dining table.

Growing up as an only child I dreamed of siblings to share with. I also love being alone as a result of being the doted on daughter-- it took some adjusting living with this many ladies.

The greatest thing though has been our pow wows in the evening. We never know when they will happen. In the evenings when we all just happen to be at home at the same time we unleash our days. The sharing, commiserating, belly laughs, eye rolls, and compassion that is exchanged during these hangouts is spectacular. It's very reminiscent of my senior year in college when I lived with two of my best friends. I wish I could package up these moments and save them for later. I know this is a very unique experience that will leave us once we move on to the next phases of life-- grad school, marriage, new cities, etc.

Living with three strong independent women has really helped me stay on track with my confidence. Best part is these girls were relative strangers (I worked with one a year prior) when I moved in. They do not fit into my friend mold. We generally don't hang out outside of the confines of our casa except for celebrations and exercise. That means I'm exposed to different ways of thinking and new experiences. It's done wonders for the way I view things and I seek them out with some decision making. 

Mostly I appreciate their passion to succeed in life, particularly their careers. I've observed I get paralyzed when thinking of how I will execute my aspirations. They're going for it. Sure they too hit road blocks, which are discussed at length, but they're trying. I'm sort of standing on the edge of the pool staring at the water waiting for the right moment to jump. Or I jump right in without seeing how deep the water is. I'm learning from them.

I am cherishing this chapter of life. 

What are you cherishing? 

I Don't Like Feet

"I don't like feet," is a lie I've become committed to. It's the excuse I give to wearing closed toe shoes and socks year-round, declining pedicures, and avoiding all foot touching from massages to playful tickling. 

My sock game. Wild.

Why do people like to touch feet?!

New fella I'm seeing went to grab my feet on our date this weekend. I had socks on but they were most definitely sweaty. I didn't know if the sweat had permeated through the cotton. It seemed a little early to reveal my sweaty feet. I didn't drop the HH bomb. 

I was kicking myself for not opening the sliding door adjacent to his couch. There was a cool breeze that night. Instead we cuddled up on his leather couch. I most definitely began to sweat because how can you not sweat on leather? I steadily became more uncomfortable as the night went on. I could not keep my cool-- all senses of the word.

Why do people like leather couches?!

When he grabbed at my feet I flinched and pulled away immediately. "I don't like feet," I said it a few times like a nervous tick. My confidence was plummeting. He laughed and asked if I had scary feet. Well, honestly, in my humble opinion I do. I did not admit that though, because they don't look scary they just have some fucked up qualities. He laughed saying that he was now afraid to see my feet. I laughed back but really I just wanted to run to his fridge and cool off and die a little inside. 

Luckily I did ask to open the sliding door later in the night. I was immediately freezing due to the sweat all over my body. It was a better alternative though and kept my sweating at bay. He didn't once comment on my dampness. Could he feel it? Were his hands clammy enough he didn't feel the sweat?

I've told you to "Speak up. It's OK." Shame on me for not heeding my own advice. Sliding door open, please!

I Went On Stage

It's Friday. I'm feeling alive. So excited to go to yoga and do absolutely nothing tonight. It took three weeks to purge Hansel feelings. I'm enjoying my alone time again. Tomorrow I have a promising fourth date with a new fella. Swagger on.

I owe thanks to the Upright Citizens Brigade for resurrecting my dating life. UCB is a comedy haven in Los Angeles. Starving artists and famous comedians alike can be found here. Amy Poehler, the bad ass chick on Parks and Rec, yea she's one of the founders.

UCB New York

Once a month UCB hosts the OKCupid Show. Two "dating experts" put a dude through the ringer to sharpen his first date skills. That means they mock him in front of a live audience while he goes on three dates. It's awesome! 

Yours truly was picked as date number three. Luckily, my hilarious and wonderful friend Lena joined the fun as date number two. BUDDY SYSTEM. If you plan on attending be relieved to know that dates are arranged prior to the show. Do not go into a sweat wondering if you will be picked to go on stage. 

Last fall the show contacted me but timing was bad and things just got exclusive with Hansel. I said thanks but can't do it. Soon after Hansel and I broke up I contacted them as one of my first rebounds. Let's get on this! I didn't hear anything back from them. I assumed they already found the ladies they needed. I was old news. 

Remember how I said the universe has been speaking to me? This was another example. After the breakup I stopped going to yoga because I was afraid of feeling all the feels that comes with therapeutic exercise. When I finally went back to my studio the instructor was hitting all the right notes. That's an entire post on its own. I left class feeling elated, and the thought, "I need to do something that scares" filled my head and heart. Yes, my heart too! I checked my phone seconds later to see a message from the OKCupid show. They wanted me to join the show. Universe, whoa, you're tripping me out.

Go on a date in front of an audience that happen to be good looking Angelenos. Yea that definitely scares me. The universe delivered yet again when I arrived backstage and there was a plethora of booze to numb my nerves. Two shots of Jameson, please!

That's me!

The show was an absolute fucking blast. It's one of those things you have to see for yourself. Hilarity ensued, a naked man crashed my date, I flicked a gummy bear to the audience, and I didn't miss a beat. My ego was bouncing off the walls. The laughs I got from the audience, and the attention after the show was like taking a hit of crystal meth. Not that I would know what that's like but I've been binge watching Breaking Bad.

Oh, and I encountered Judd Apatow after the show. I wandered back to the green room after my date quite tipsy. Judd is just chillin there. I make some shocked remark. He nodded. In my fantasy world I imagine my reaction was the same as Lena Dunham's when they first met. 

Two thumbs up for the show. It was just what I needed to reset my swagger. Here's to totally killing it on my date tomorrow.

Miss Coco Peru: A Role Model

The universe has been speaking to me. Take a moment to stop laughing at me and see if you can join me on this wave for a moment. Just a moment. Oh come on. Come oooooon. You might just like it.

The voices of the universe seem to be fading. I want to remember these moments that have happened in the last weeks to remind myself of where I'm going and that the possibilities ahead are tangible.

I met Miss Coco Peru. And by meet, I mean I waited for her eagerly after a show I paid to see. What do you mean you don't know who Miss Coco Peru is?!

Coco Goes to KMart is what started it for me.

Coco Peru is a fabulous human being who happens to be a drag queen. She inspires us to be who we are. As simple as it sounds it's one of the most important messages we can preach to one another. And my goodness does Miss Coco Peru have a voice to preach it. My friend and I got tickets to see her show "She's Got Balls." We loved every song, story, and fabulous sequin Coco shined on to her audience of giggly Angelenos. 

I've just recently been introduced to Coco's work (see above). Little did I know she's an icon in the world of drag and gay alphabet soup. That red wig came to life in the 90s when I was still rocking bike shorts on the playground. I'm a little late on the bandwagon. But my goodness, she's a god damn rock star. 

This post is admittedly a little late. I saw this show about two weeks ago... maybe three? I really needed a pick me up. The universe delivered. I got Coco to brighten my outlook and really have a great fucking weekend. Her energy was just what I needed. 

Us sweaty folk often don't feel comfortable in our own skin. Coco gets that, but she reminds us to go after what we want. Shine on and damn those who just don't understand. Look around the room for your friends-- we got you. 

"There is a big beautiful world out there and we are waiting for you with open and loving arms..." 

Coco Peru

Sure Coco's message is meant to empower the gay community, but I think the message transcends to all audiences looking for a kick of hope. I'm pretty sure she'd agree... especially if it means more YouTube views. 

This Is Where I'm At

My brain is mush. On the upside I'm feeling stable today. The up and down swings of my moods the last few weeks have been alarming and very frustrating. I like to know I'm in control and I have not been. So many times I wanted to write and blog but couldn't focus.

My battle this past week is that I'm tired of being sane, taking the high road, and carrying myself with class. I want to go bat shit crazy on someone. Specifically I want to go crazy on Hansel (the dude I broke up with earlier this month). 

At the end of the day I have some Grade A, incredible friends who remind me that acting a fool will get me nowhere. If you don't have at least one friend that will reign you in find one immediately. At the end of the day I do not want this man. At the end of the day we broke up for a reason. Sending a crazy email about my assumptions that he is already seeing someone else will not move me in a positive direction. Instead I decided to deactivate my Facebook so I can't see what he's up to and make up story lines on his dating life. 

The energy it takes to hold your head high after rejection is hard. To keep my mind occupied I've gone out most nights of the week. I've met some new people that remind me that LA is full of interesting walks of life. I've treated myself to delicious overpriced foods. Fried brussels sprouts with goat cheese... oh my god I felt so alive eating those decadent sprouts. I've spent time getting closer to friends. With the help of fancy cocktails we've opened up about past experiences in love and life in general bringing our group closer.

Nights last week were the hardest. I spent my days running from my emotions that when it was time to rest my head and heart I just sort of broke down. Yet, despite suppressing my emotions I had severe jaw pain. My anxiety and sadness manifested through physical pain. I clenched my jaw and pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. 

Tomorrow I'm looking forward to resuming my yoga routine. After treating myself to a massage, manicure, and a stroll through my neighborhood on Friday I realized I could focus on me again. It was refreshing. Before I met Hansel I was really happy with myself, and it's good to know I can return to that.

Can you relate to any of this? Have moments of wanting to go absolutely crazy?

Go Ahead, Use Your Hands: A Review of The Boiling Crab

Busy. Busy. Busy. Do not slow down. Do not stop to think about life and decisions made. Nope. Nope. Nope.

This weekend was jam packed with activities to block my mind from coming close to thinking about the breakup. One fabulous activity I'm dying to share with you was eating at The Boiling Crab.

Yes, an eating activity. That's what I want to share most. Not the challenging hike I went on that took us on an unconventional trail. Not the amazing cocktail concoctions my friend came up with (elderflower liquor makes everything better by the way). 

Look at how much fun we're having!

The main menu draw at The Boiling Crab is ordering and raveging shellfish by the pound and you have a choice of seasonings. We went for "the whole shebang" which means they load it up with all the flavorings. Then choose your spice level. Mild please! 

The best part of eating at The Boiling Crab is you get to use your hands! I immediately thought of you my sweaty palm people. 

Out comes a plastic bag with your meal. That liquid is most definitely butter. Dive right in with your hands. Sweaty hands be damn. Hands that don't stop sweating is for once of no concern. Let your hands have some fun. Live it up having no restriction to interact with your food and share with your friends. 

I've never shelled sea creatures before. The staff was really helpful demonstrating. So pleased with our meal. Cooked and seasoned to perfection. The sausage, corn, and potatoes were also phenomenal. The cajun fries didn't wow me. I don't recommend the ranch dressing unless you're a fan of the bottle kind.

When visiting the Koreatown location keep in mind that the hour on weekends is about two hours. TWO hours. Good news is one of my favorite bars HMS Bounty is around the corner. With $7.50 premium cocktails (cheap by LA standards) we had a good time passing the time. Our bellies were primed and ready for a seafood adventure. 

Have a place like this in your town? Share in the comments. 

Eyebrow Threading: What You Should Know

My boss bullied me into getting my eyebrows threaded for the first time. She thought it would be a good pick-me-up after the breakup. I'll admit my brows are a little unruly. But in my defense thick eyebrows are in! I didn't want to lose my long hard work of more than a year ignoring eyebrow maintenance.

Threading? Come again? A nice lady (perhaps man) takes a piece of sewing thread and yanks out your eyebrow hairs. It's like waxing but with thread.

In my fantasy world, my thick eyebrows would resemble Emma Watson's.
Photo via FanPop

Did I enjoy it?
No not really. It hurt! but I did laugh along with my boss at the absurdity of what was happening. So, ok, maybe I enjoyed it a little.

What should you prepare for?
Nothing really. But a heads up for my hand sweaters, you will need your hands to hold your eyelids taught. Holding the skin taught for the person threading your eyebrows helps ensure they grab the hair. You won't need to hold the entire time but for parts of it. You can ask for a tissue while you hold your eyelids taught. Keep in mind the whole process takes about 10 minutes so if you're uncomfortable it'll be over with quickly.

It's not horrible but there is discomfort. Again, it's over in 10 minutes. Buck up and get those clean brows. 

Am I pleased with the results? Would I do it again?
Yes, the results are great. I miss my fuller brows but my face looks cleaner and my eyes bigger. I can't deny the swagger boost it gave me. I am fairly certain I will do this again despite it being uncomfortable. This particular shop was only $8 plus tip; making it a small investment.

Excuse the filter on my photo. Fluorescent lighting in the office is flattering to NO ONE.

On more thing...
No chemicals are used in the process, just a string. I didn't have any breakouts afterwards like I do with waxing. Irritation went down after a few hours. 

There are a myriad of videos on YouTube showing the process. Threading be crazy!

Hansel and I Broke Up

Hansel and I broke up. It's because I mentioned him on this blog and I told him about my hyperhidrosis that our relationship was cursed.

Just kidding. I don't believe that all. 

I need to put into words what happened. Help me clear my head. You're getting to know me through this blog, I might as well share this too. I haven't mentioned this but I'm really grateful to you all. I'm especially jazzed by the great responses on Tumblr. Hugs and thanks to you.

I won't get into the details of how he broke up with me, but I saw it coming. Compared to my last breakup this was extremely cordial. The idea that we would breakup always lingered in the back of my mind but I always chalked that up to my insecurity.

He told me he knew I was more invested than he was. That he became less invested than in the beginning. OUCH. Immediately I take his lack of investment to mean I did something to turn him off. To push him away. Maybe I did but I will never know. I'm coping with not putting the blame on myself because I shouldn't. My head knows that but my ego is still coping.

I asked what the turn was for him. He claims that he is used to being alone (I was his first relationship at 26) and that he wants to focus solely on his career in comedy. OK I guess I can respect that. He's a typical comedian... in that he's broken. He didn't lead me on to believe that the relationship could go any further. He also knew, because I'm straight forward, that he couldn't give me what I wanted-- a serious relationship. 

With getting to know him I came to realize he has a lot of work to do before he becomes secure with himself. I just thought I could come along for the ride. We have fun together and seem to have similar views of the world. Not to mention we had a solid mutual attraction to one another. As simple as that sounds it's hard to come by. At the end of the day though if you're not happy with who you are and secure with what you're doing in your life that will have some strain on your personal relationships. I was too optimistic that he could meet me at the serious relationship level down the road. 

My roommate made a simple point that I hadn't thought of. He wasn't ready to receive love. I could see him rolling his eyes to that statement. It makes sense though. If you prefer to be alone, work solely on your craft, then no matter how great the other person is you aren't in a place to accept their love.

After four months of dating I never felt comfortable calling him my boyfriend. That speaks volumes. It also sucks that in such a short time span you can become so close and attached to someone. The jokes! The snuggles! The playful fun! I'll remember it fondly but also miss how comfortable we got.
Everything makes sense logically. I can accept what he is saying. Then my heart chimes in thumping wildly with a sense of loss and my ego is broken. If only I was one thing or another this wouldn't have happened. Yesterday I would cry and impromptu moments when this thought would sweep through my brain. 

Then there is the sting of knowing that he meditated on this and knew on Saturday he would break up with me. My intuition is scary at times. I woke up that morning with the first thought in my head, "This isn't working." But I talked myself down thinking the things that needed work on were just that, things to work on, nothing to breakup over. It's eating at me to know when exactly he came to this decision to break up. Again, I'll never know. My ego hurts with that one and I have to learn to let that go. 

Let. It. Go.

The permanence is hitting me. The likelihood of seeing him again is slim. If you work or go to school with a former lover, may you be blessed with a thousand levels of patience. He asked if we could remain in contact. I told him that I couldn't imagine he would ever reach out but he was welcome to. I made very clear if he wanted us to become friends the ball is in his court to reach out. I don't really know if I want to be friends. I mostly want to talk to him about where his head is at, act more like a therapist. I'm fascinated by how he processes things.

I just checked up on a blog I used to read religiously. The writer is happily planning her wedding so I was skimming her posts begrudgingly, but then I came across a post that gave me a positive thought. The silver lining of this breakup is I will have relief from comparing my relationship with other couples. Something I know I shouldn't do but couldn't help myself from. Shut that noise OFF.

My friends keep offering wine and ice cream to help drown my woes. As if calories can help. I have been resisting. Must take advantage of this loss of appetite while I can! Friends, don't starve yourself but hey, if you happen to not want to eat that bag of chips that's not so bad. Is it? I sure as shit don't want him to run into me ten pounds heavier and in sweat pants. My god, the horror. The breakup diet is giving my face a certain glow.

Rejection blows.

I'm on Tinder as a distraction. Anyone use this absurd app? I'm so overwhelmed by how shallow it is but so satisfied with the instant gratification when someone likes you back. 

My Big Secret Revealed

I did it. I finally did it. I told manfriend that I have hyperhidrosis. I'm hesitant to write this post since I also told him about the blog. If he's curious and does some basic web research he'll find me here. If you're reading this manfriend, hello, welcome to the blog. Don't worry, I will never use your real name. 

For sake of the blog being reader friendly I'll refer to manfriend as Hansel. 

Twice now I've thought about telling him about HH. For whatever reason it didn't feel quite right. Saturday night a combination of feeling secure in where we are in our relationship and wanting to open up to him made for the right HH bomb dropping conditions. There we were laying in bed having a nice time chatting. I was comfortable in his arms staring up to the ceiling when I said, "So I have something to share. I have hyperhidrosis. That's why I sweat so much." I went on to add that I've had ETS surgery and provided a quick summary of side effects I still suffer from.

This is how you should always picture us.
Moderately famous and good looking.

His response was not what I was expecting. He joked calling me a monster and told me to leave in his playful way. I was in no way offended by this but it wasn't the response I expected nor wanted. He was ready to move on to the next topic.

Wait wait wait just a hot strudel minute there my handsome Hansel. I'm not ready to move on to the next topic. I just told you my most crippling secret. LETS TALK ABOUT THIS. Instead of saying that I turned to my side and became very internal. My mind was running and I couldn't vocalize what I was feeling. A wave of emotion took over to the point where if I looked at him I was afraid I would start to cry.

He asked if I wanted to be left alone so that I could sleep. Hansel sincerely thought I was ready for slumber not that I was riding an emotional roller coaster. I mustered up some confidence to say that I was feeling shy and frankly weird after telling him. 

Then in a tender but very frank way he said, "Nothing has changed. You've told me before that you get sweaty. You're a sweaty girl. So now I know there is a name for it."

There you have it. Nothing has changed. The reveal that I was so ashamed of was simply a sharing moment. As it should be. 

Until of course summer rolls around and I don't want him to touch me because I'm most likely damp through my clothes. Ah! One step at a time though.

How have you told someone about HH? How did they react? 

My Boss Calls Me Snowflake

How do you deal with hyperhidrosis? There is no quick cure despite what Twitter spammers might claim. For every solution there seems to be a side effect. I had surgery but I still sweat uncontrollably. I can't control or manage my sweat as easy as I'd like, but I can take ownership and responsibility in making my environment comfortable.

My boss started calling me Snowflake. The main reason being I'm constantly seeking shade when we're out and about. 

Snowflake originated when my boss decided she wanted to pick up a HoneyBaked Ham the day before Thanksgiving this last November. I tagged along for the journey. For my American readers, have you tried to get a Honey Baked Ham before Thanksgiving or Christmas? It's pure madness. It's as if we are required to have succulent ham for the holidays. I suppose we are, but my goodness.

HoneyBaked Ham, where you can work on your sun tan.

So there we were standing in a long line. Of course the sun was beaming bright. I think I recall it being around 75. That damn sun was piercing the line with its deathly rays. I felt droplets of sweat forming. The feeling is a familiar one. It's a feeling that I know if it continues will lead to a sweat-stain-embarrassing-disaster.

To my boss I said, "I'm sweating. This sun. I don't know if I can take it."

My boss, "Here stay in the shade. Stay as long as you can." The shade was a small sliver of cool created by a pillar. The shade lasted only moments.

Then my boss suggested, "Go in the liquor store. Go cool off Snowflake. I don't want you to melt."
And that's when Snowflake was born. I'm never ashamed to request the seat in the shade, or request some ice water. "Snowflake, are you melting?," is a comforting phrase.

My coworkers have no clue I suffer from a specific condition called hyperhidrosis, but they know I sweat and that I "melt". They know I get uncomfortable. They're also awesome for accommodating to my sweaty needs.

If you own it, you might just get an awesome nickname out of it.

xoxo,
Snowflake

Manduka eKO Yoga Mat Review for Sweaty Feet

When I was a kid and it was time for Christmas wish lists I was notorious for detailed instructions. I provided envelopes to each family member that included clippings from newspaper ads. Working in marketing now I see that I was an advertisers dream come true. I was damn fortunate to have such an obliging family. 

Now it's not so cute or funny to provide such lists. Also, I need practical things. Like a $100 yoga mat from Manduka. 

I know. It's outrageous.

It was the only item on my list though... OK and my expensive Vitamin C daily moisturizer by Murad (it's amazing). I urged my family that if they felt inclined to provide anything else it must be either practical (toilet paper) or cash (no Starbucks gift cards). I would like to trade the rolling pin I got for some Windex. Oh well. You can't have it all.

After years of yoga and four mats that merely get the job done I have graduated to a mat that will hopefully last me a lifetime.

The Details
eKO Mat 71"
Color: "Swoon 2-tone" no longer available online.
The color is bright and I adore it. 

Let's take a moment.

Can you sweat on it?
Yes. A thousand times yes.

Will I slip on it?
Not nearly as much as a regular mat you might pick up at Target. I would still recommend bringing a towel to class.

I normally always use a towel on my mat. The other day in hot yoga with sweat pouring, my feet little rivers of sweat, I pulled the towel back and put my foot directly to the mat. I did not slip or slide at all. Warrior II, no problem. Crescent lunge, I got this.

It was an awesome experience to feel the mat during standing poses. The tactile sensation of my yoga mat gripping to my moves was so satisfying. eKO and I had a moment. 

Doing a down dog was another issue though. My hands no longer sweat but my hands still get damp from my arms and the condensation in the room. I began to slide a little bit to the point where I had to pull the towel forward.

At the end of the day you still need a towel. But, you can pull the towel back and have the exhilarating feeling of not slipping during certain poses. 

Crescent lunge and this lady is not slipping!
By the redness of my feet you know they were sweaty little dogs.

Things you should know:
1) It smells. I opened the packaging and it smelled like manure. Yes, that means it smelled like shit. The rubber is just potent. I urge Manduka to give their mats a good wash before putting them on the market. I've aired the mat out for a few weeks now and it still reeks. It's a little distracting during savasana.

2) It's heavy. I'm fine with that but don't plan on traveling with this mat.

Should I buy this mat?
If you are a seasoned yogi and looking to treat yourself then absolutely you should buy this mat. If you are just getting into yoga and you want to see if it's for you then I don't recommend. Also, if you're a yogi on-the-go you might want to consider one of their lighter mats.

What other products can help my yoga experience?
Did I mention that I am not being paid to write this? Because I'm not. I'm a Manduka fan gal. 
If you have some money to throw around, I also love Manduka's towels. They're similar to towels you can take camping or a thin ShamWow. If you don't want to splurge find a low ply towel. Not your fancy fluffy towels. You want something you can easily move on. A beach towel is your best bet. I personally also hate a towel that is too soft, the texture on my sweaty feet makes me squirm.