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Sunday, July 24, 2011

My Name is...and I'm Addicted to Food

I'm addicted to food.  It's true.

You want to know why?  Because it tastes good.

I know that may sound too simple.  And it is.  I have some emotional addiction, I emotionally eat, the food is filling a void in me, etc., etc., etc.

I just can't get over the fact that it tastes so fucking good.

I mean it's that good.

You know, you've eaten.  You've all had those moments, where nothing else in the world mattered except what what you were chewing and what was left on your plate.  Whether it be Thanksgiving dinner or cheesecake from the Cheesecake factory.  You love it just as much as I do.

But you probably have some element of control.  That's where I falter.  When I like something, I want to keep having it.  Hence the addiction to that 'high.'

So what am I going to do about it?

Well I'm gonna try Weight Watchers again...it has worked for me in the past.  I know, I know, another diet, another death....

What's gonna be different this time?  Well, I'll tell you this, I want to know what's missing inside me, what drives me to this insane behavior with food.  I mean I don't want to shrink it out but:  I have emotional scars, reasons from my past that I would be addicted to food.  But who doesn't have scars from the past, it's just a matter of how you heal your wounds or something.

I mean something inside me is not right, doesn't feel right and that's why I go to food.  But it's madness, it's a form of madness.

But so many of us have eating disorders of some kind.  I know I'm not alone.  In fact it's one o'clock in the morning and I want to eat again.  That is how bad it is.

I'm actually eating right now, as I write.  It's stressing me out, the eating itself and the thinking about the eating itself.  It's sick actually, that left-over shish-kabob can take away that feeling of being alone in the middle of the night or whatever....

But I feel sick afterwards, like now, I just feel stuffed but the emptiness is not gone, it's just like I stuffed it with garbage so it would shut up.

The thing is, I want to change.  And I know, I know, the only way to change is to just do it.  You know, like Nike, I just need to run.  I do you know, need to excersize.  But underneath the change of habits, it's like I need to respect my body.  Maybe even respect myself more.

So how is it going to be different this time?  This Monday, that's when I like to start my dieting resolutions, what will I do that's different than last Monday?

Maybe I'll like myself better.  Maybe I'll say to myself: fruit is the new cookie.  I bought salad stuff, maybe I'll actually make it.  Maybe I'll make it.

It's not like I don't know how to diet, it's just that when you fail at something over and over again, you lose some confidence about it.  I know I'm always gonna be addicted to food in some manner, but maybe I'm addicted to the wrong kind of food.

It's not like drinking or drugging, you can't stop eating cold turkey.  It's not fair.

I remember when I was in third grade my teacher asked us, "Was there a fairy that came down and whispered in your ear that life was gonna be fair?"

No.

nina

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Frugal is the New Cheap

So this is the thing...I have to budget myself 'cause I'm a graduate student and I have no money.  So now I can only spend about fifty dollars a week on food and toilet paper or whatever miscellaneous expensis that I have.  The fact that I can't spell expensis, should be a clue as to what my feelings about this issue are.

For the next couple years I won't be shopping unless my mother takes me shopping, she always pays.  But don't cry for me, America, I have more clothes than god, or the goddess perhaps.  I have so many clothes that I am currently filling three pretty large closets in two different houses.  My car currently is housing some of my clothes as well...don't ask...

I'm gonna do things like make soup and clip coupons and I'm not even gonna cry.  I mean, in the back of my head, I've always known that I was privileged.  But I didn't really understand that I am spoiled.  I expect to be spoiled, I want a man who will spoil me.  I want to spoil myself.

I also realize that fifty dollars a week is enough money, really.

The truth is, I also want to be a teacher which is sort of like saying I want to be part of the working class poor.  I mean really, but I would rather inspire children to write and change the world etc., instead of being able to drink that Starbucks iced coffee every morning.  Even though Starbucks has this special syrup they put in the iced coffee to make it like super delicious.

But never mind all that...let's be real.  I must join the real world now.  I have no idea how much money I will be able to make as a teacher, it ranges from like twenty thousand to like a hundred thousand.  I don't know if my writing will ever make me money, I like to think it will.

But let's be real.  I need to watch myself, pay attention, make my own pasta sauce even though I love Prego.

The thing is, no matter how poor I am, I don't think of myself as poor.  It may be because I have always lived a privileged lifestyle and I even went to an Ivy League School.

All my friends are richer than me, I should hang out with poorer people actually.

I think the reason I don't feel poor is because I chose this lifestyle.  I could have become a lawyer, a corporate lawyer for that matter.  I'm somewhat smart.  But I'm a writer, and we are not known to make millions right away, if ever.  I like being a starving artist in this way...not because I enjoy my own dramatic tragedy, which I by no means deny, but because I would rather do something that means something to me than have this vast collection of shoes that hurt my feet.

I want the shoes, don't get me wrong.  I just would rather go to work every day LOVING what I do.  I know I will love teaching, even though all my friends warn me about what a nightmare kids are these days.  It's true, but I WILL find a way to get through to them.  I will die trying.  I LOVE writing.  I wake up in the morning and I just want to get to the page sometimes.

Passion is not something you can buy.

I was worried for a moment that I would become "cheap," because of my new ordeal.  Then after my friend so eloquently put it, "Girl, you ain't eveh gonna be cheap."  I was touched.  I think being cheap does not reflect a financial status, but an emotional one.  Being cheap is a state of mind, it's about not thinking you have enough and not thinking that the universe has enough, not thinking that there is enough that you can still give.

I don't give money to nobody right now, I'm just learning how to live on less myself.  But there are those who live on MUCH LESS.  I gotta remember that.  I've got to remember that no matter how much I have, I can give to them instead of wasting my money.

So don't ever call me cheap, just know that I am frugal because the universe wants us all to share, and I've definitely had my share.

nina

Saturday, July 2, 2011

You...the Readers

Something monumental happened in my tiny blog world yesterday... a phenomenal site named, Blogher featured my blog post about gay marriage on their website's Life section   I got almost 900 hits and counting, that means that almost 900  people read my work.  I'm so excited I want to jump up and down.  


So I would like to take a moment to contemplate my readers, since I'm still fascinated that I have any.  From the statistics that blogger shows me, I have consistent readers from facebook, which are people I know, which is really awesome because my friends are supporting my work.


Secondly, I have posted my blog on this incredible website called blogher.com from which I actually get a huge chunk of my readers.  And then, to my amazement, there are people from like twenty different countries, like Iran and the Ukraine that  have somehow gravitated to this blog.  So if you are reading this blog from abroad, I am especially thankful that you would take the time to read this...I mean I should say I'm just as thankful for those of you in the United States....I'm just very thankful.


So I'm gonna try and broaden my horizons and get more readers.  The most important thing is that I'm saying something you want to hear.


One of the fun things to look at on blogger is the various search words people have used to end up on my site.  One of them was:


"new hot pockets "annoying waitress" commercial. is it on tv?"

I think we should take a moment to think about that....OK, then there was, 'Thirtysomething sexy' or try this
one, "Am looking for myself, have tried yoga."  I'm particularly proud of this one since I'm looking for myself
and I have tried yoga. 

Anyways, I dream of keeping the attention of all who stumble upon here...yet I know that some will be lost, I 
can't like reach everyone.  


So what I'm I gonna do to lure more readers in?  Be profound perhaps, and witty but most of all just be myself.  I'm just here to exchange ideas, to find questions as opposed to answers, to find what feels right to me, to you.  


It can be weird sometimes, as a writer, to reveal so much about yourself.  You sometimes feel naked.  But that comes with the territory.  If I can be naked with a lover I can be naked with you.  Sometimes its even easier to be emotionally naked than physically naked.    


It's almost funny to me that you would follow the thoughts of a slightly neurotic, day-dreaming fool like myself.  I mean I have so many flaws, I eat too much, I take too many pills, I procrastinate and I'm not very good with money.


But I try to be sensitive to the world around me, I try to listen to people, and I try to make myself a better person.  I think it's important that we all have this goal to just be better, no matter how good we are.  


This is blog is a journal about how I come to real self-realization.  I hope you dig it as much as I dig writing it.


nina



Friday, July 1, 2011

Women: Is India Dangerous?

Apparently there has been a recent poll of the most dangerous countries for women and India was one of them. Mostly it was because of human trafficking and female infanticide.

What the hell is going on?

In my mind India is one of the greatest countries around.  I may be biased, I am Indian after all, but I was born in the USA.  The reasons I think India is so awesome is because it's a country where people are down to earth and spiritual and real.  Where people have a different sense of a work ethic and they value life differently than we do, maybe more than we do.

Having said all that, this new statistic saddens me...

I thought India was a progressive country.  I thought we were getting somewhere.  India is in the same category as Afghanistan?  I don't mean any disrespect to Afghanistan, but I can't believe that my country is plagued with these disgusting problems.   I was born in America, but some of my head still lives in India.  I might be an American, but I'm also Indian.  I identify with this country, I identify with these people.  How can they let this continue?

I don't really understand how Indian government works, but from this I can gather that women's and human rights is not at the top of their priority list.

Forty percent of the prostitutes in India are children.  That's almost half.  I'm so disgusted I don't know what to do except rant.  Rant and rave.

I don't care anymore that India is soooo fucking advanced that it has a nuclear bomb and more IT graduates than it knows what to do with.  I mean, in this area, the area of women's rights, India sucks.

I hate to say it, in public, because all around India doesn't really suck.  It's like the most beautiful country in the world.  So how is it that this land can mix beauty and blasphemy altogether?

I know, most of you saw Slum Dog Millionaire, and maybe you gathered that all Indians come from a very difficult past filled with dirt, and basically shit.  The truth is that India is full of culture, spirituality, delicious food and I could go on for days trying to prove that we are not just a human trafficking factory.  My parents grew up their and lived very nice lives.

But the truth is, in terms of the way women and children are treated, India has a long way to go.  I'm sad to say this.  It's really sad.  I mean I guess I was mad at first, but now I'm just sad.

I know I'm not the only one that is outraged, that this country that educated the women in my family, my mother is a doctor for godsakes, could forsake it's women so easily.  There is such a huge lifestyle difference between the educated and the poor and the middle class and the poor, it's outrageous actually.

My parents were shocked when they saw Slum Dog Millionaire, they couldn't believe that anyone would show India in such a dark, well a dark light.

There is a lot of darkness in India, the prostitution, the child abuse, but there is also a light that I cannot explain.  As a woman, a lot of spiritual ideals in India claim that women have a higher spiritual capacity then men.  This may or may not be true, but I like that I come from a place that considers this.  I like that India is a country where there are female gods that are revered.

Sometimes I think India is a lot like me, I take step forward then I take two steps back.  I forgive myself for this stupid way of walking.  I am trying to forgive India for not being the homeland that I dream it to be.  But if India is anything like me, it's striving to be better.

nina