New Year’s Resolutions Suck – Let’s Do Something New Instead

In the past weeks I’ve read a lot about the psychology of things. Yeah, let’s just say that. Or I could do myself a favor and make this whole post a lot more interesting by saying “the psychology of willpower, self-control and other self-helpyish stuff”.
So one thing I learned is that dopamine is an asshole hormone that makes you want stuff and makes you keep doing something even if it doesn’t even feel good. (Checking Facebook, anyone?) Of course, dopamine has its good uses – without it people turn sluggish, hopeless and depressed, unable to imagine anything giving joy.
But enough of science – what does this have to do with New Year’s resolutions?
In the past years I’ve been a pretty adamant resolution-supporter. Worshipper. Prayer. Whatever, I’ve said a lot of resolutions, they have yet to come true. Hell, I don’t even remember the one from last year, but I’m sure it filled my January with bright hope and a heavy crash.
It’s called the False Hope Syndrome.  It’s basically you being sick of something about yourself and wanting control over your life again, so you set a goal, and hey, while we’re doing it, let’s set a really high one. “Someone climbed Mount Everest? Fuck that. I’ll climb to the moon – no, Mars! What? There’s no feasible way of doing that? Well, stop underestimating me, ‘cause I’ll be the first person to climb in air!” – That’s you when you make resolutions. And I gotta hand it to you, way to be ambitious, but air’s not that great for, you know, having a lower density than solid matter.
What happens when you overshoot like this? You give yourself a quick boost of dopamine and a sense of self-control, and like the mice in this dopamine experiment that’s all we really want. Right? Except those mice ran themselves to death on electric shock for a lust of dopamine, and it didn’t even release any happy-hormones, like serotonin.

Bringing me back to New Year’s Resolutions. Continue reading

The Loneliest Planet

A lonely planet dances in its trail around the sun, its only companion a gray moon dragging along beside it. The other planets have many moons accompanying them – the little orbs seem to flood around them. Well, apart from those two planets, Mercury and Venus, but they’ve got enough in themselves and the sunrays.
“If only I were Jupiter,” the lonely planet thinks, “with a mass and gravitation larger than all the combined planets, and still so beautiful and light, consisting only of swirling gasses and winds. Or if I cannot be a Jupiter, let me be one of its moons.”
While the little planet dreamt of the other planets and tried to move ever closer to them, always failing due to a relentless pull towards their bright middle, it never noticed the life on its surface. It admired Jupiters gasses, Mercury’s extreme temperatures, Saturns elegant rings, Neptune’s density and Uranus’ cool core, while it completely overlooked those weird creatures of connected carbon strings with attached hydrogens that started waddling around on top of it. It did not see the oceans or tectonic plates, the atmosphere or the varying climates.
The lonely planet saw nothing and felt vacuum creep into it, leaving a touch of emptiness. Even the moon could not make it feel better and the planet started to suffer the pressure of the world. In a gush of moodswing it erupted into volcanoes to hide behind a black cloud and freeze its emotions into solid matter.
When the cloud slid aside and allowed the planet to see the sun’s light there was nothing but ice. It looked almost like Neptune and Uranus, but the little planet didn’t dare call on them. It knew its secrets, knew what they would think, knew that beneath all the ice were floods of oxygen bound to hydrogen in liquid phase. Oh, liquid phase!
The lonely planet could never go far enough down, could never touch the absolute zero, and felt too hot to bear the whole of the world.
Some days the lonely planet only wished that the sun would hurry up and explode already. When all the planets united in a black hole, their unique properties destroyed, there’d be nothing keeping them apart anymore.
Maybe then the lonely planet would fit in.

The Trade of Punishment

”Why is this such a big deal?” Billy’s arms crossed over his green rain jacket and the material screeched with every movement. “It was a game and he wanted to play.”
The woman across the table had her hair in a high knot and there were glasses on her pointy nose. With her lips pursed she looked like she’d release a tongue, snatch him like a fly and eat him.
“Are you sure Geoffry wanted to play a game like that?”
Billy wiped his nose with a hand and dried it in his rain jacket. Screech. “He always wants to play with us. That’s all he ever says. ‘Can I play with you, can I play with you, I’m a really good pirate’. But you can’t be a pirate if you’re in a wheelchair!”
Again, the pursed lips.
Billy’s hands banged against the table. “He wanted to play! We gave him what he wanted – how would we know he’d fall through? It didn’t before.” Continue reading

The Lost Hostess

My girlfriend has the best breasts. They’re firm, yet yielding, and no matter how much I try I can’t hold all of one in a hand.
She comes to my apartment pretty often and she walks around in her underpants, no top, and her breasts bounce a little when she gets excited or reaches for something. If she was in a zoo I’d go to that zoo and I’d sit on a bench and stare at her through the glass forever.
I love her body – and she’s nice, too. She does all these weird little things, like, I work on Sundays, so on Mondays she calls me up and tells me whether the show I missed the day before was good or not so I won’t get disappointed. She’ll watch those shows, even if she’s not psyched on them herself, just to know what’s up with me.
And she’s a tough one with a ball – my balls, too, haha! But no, what I mean is, she plays volleyball and she’s crazy at it, her team adores her, but she says it’s all about teamwork, that’s what she always says, and then she grins and her freckles remind me of something innocent.
She’s sexy, too. Her ideas are far-reaching, from getting freaky with kitchen utensils to playing around with hot and cold, and I’m so in. If she was a pool I’d wanna step back a bit so I could have a good sprint before I jumped into her, as far out into the water as I could get, and just sink to the bottom.
But sometimes she wants something her body and I don’t want. I don’t know if she knows, but her breasts certainly don’t want to go see the art museum today, they fall perfectly into my hands, and her ass is so big and bad and I grab it but can’t hold all of it, which is so great.
Her body and I want something different than she and sometimes I wish she’d let herself go and let her body be here, all encompassing. Continue reading

A Breakup Letter To Peanutbutter

Dear Peanutbutter

This isn’t working anymore. I discovered you on a night of adventure, when trying something new seemed appropriate. I thought you’d be sticky and weird but you weren’t. You were yummy and creamy and perfect on my carrots.
And for a time it was all good.
When I felt the need for a little sugar I went to you and filled myself with your goodness.
When I was hungry for more you ended my cravings.
It was all good because you belonged to the organic section and you were 99% pure with only a little salt for spice. Oh, it was good, and with 22% protein you were all the beef I needed.

But you make me lazy. I’ve stopped caring about other food and I’m not a good friend at all. Eventually, if we continue this way, I’ll gain weight from your one-sided nourishment. Too much of one macronutrient isn’t good for anyone, and your love is fat, fat, fat …machandel-peanut-butter

Oh, peanutbutter … Staying away from you will be horrid. Already two days apart has me running to your shelf and gorging on you like there was no tomorrow. I want all the peanutbutter!
And I can’t, I just can’t, do with merely a few bites of you. I must devour you or have nothing, so in the end I choose the latter. I cannot be a monogamous eater. I won’t.

Goodbye, peanutbutter.
I’ll be back Monday.

A Guide To IBS – My Internet and Experimental Research Through 4 Years

Who am I?
My story’s not important. I’ve lived with IBS since late 2011 and after months of pain and no help from the medicinal world I took the future into my own hands. My sporadic research has led me to knowledge every person with IBS ought to know. This quick run-through should help anyone, new or old to the topic, on their quest to health. I am NOT a health professional. The idea here is to give you all the information 1,5 – 3 years of research on the internet will give you.

You have IBS – here’s the menu
I won’t lie. If you have IBS you’re in for a horrible treat. The menu looks like this:
Confusion about what’s happening. No examinations or tests show anything and your doctors can’t help. (Obviously you’ve been tested for Colitis, Chron’s, ulcers, kidney stones, allergies, cancer, liver problems etc.)
Hopelessness because you don’t know what to do.
Hope when you DO find something to do.
Disbelief and provocation from people around you because you don’t eat like them (if you do, stop immediately)
Pain, physical and mental, because life sucks and then you –

The basics of IBS – The four reasons you might have it.
On a brighter note: to fix something you must understand it. There are probably one or more of four reasons why you have IBS.
1: Food sensitivities.
Many people won’t test positive on any allergies but are still sensitive to certain foods. They may be capable of eating a bit of it but not in the amounts (or mixes) that they’re served. For these people, cutting out the bad foods helps tremendously. (We’ll get to this later)
2: Stress/anxiety/depression induced IBS
It’s the eternal question of the chicken and the egg. Do you have depression because you’re in chronic pain, or is the pain created by your depression? No doubt it goes both ways, but it’s a lie that most people who have IBS have it for stress or anxiety reasons. Most people GET depressed once they’ve lived with IBS for a few years. However, a great deal of people do have anxiety-related IBS, so it’s worth looking into.
3: Damaged gut lining
I mentioned stomach ulcers. Ulcers are basically damaged surface of the gut or intestines and when you eat, some molecules get absorbed into the bloodstream through these damaged surfaces. This causes your immune system to react and attack – causing an allergic reaction.
4: Damaged gut bacteria
There are more bacterial cells on and in the human body than there are human cells. Your gut biome is endlessly important for your well-being and if you’ve had antibiotics even once you may have damaged them for good. You may have killed enough good bacteria that they can’t make a comeback and as a result the bad bacteria take over, causing all kinds of havoc.

How do you start?
The following is a bunch of basic stuff you’ll hear if you hang around the internet for long enough. These are the first things they’ll recommend you and as a result you get tired of hearing them. That’s why I made this list! If anything’s missing on it, I hope you, dear reader who is more informed than me, will write it in the comments :) Now everyone can link to this list and we can be like “good, done, we all know this now? Let’s move on to bigger and better things.” Continue reading

Carcrash Crushes With Its Mundanity

Considering the personal nature of the blog, and the nature of the somewhat less-important-in-the-larger-scale-of-things topics I usually discuss (which, obviously, I find perilously important for life), it makes sense to write about the recent carcrash I experienced.
Which angle should I take on? The adrenaline kicking my perception of life into another frame? The fright of setting a foot outside my door and the general pile of arguments against ever doing so? The relieved, almost religious, realization that everything is all right?

It matters little. The whole affair passes quickly and the most interesting thing about it was that right after hearing the crash, and being pushed forward and then pulled back by the seatbelt, my first thought was: “Now dad has another thing to worry about. How should I break this to him?”
My next thought was whether anything had happened to my back and if I’d be able to compete in the pole championship next week.
Such trivial thoughts, but they put life and the accident in a neat frame, the frame called “narrow, personal perspective”. It’s what a writer calls Point Of View. And so we can give it different names and argue about the meaning of a perfectly meaningless incident.

To quote Austen: “The whole thing will pass – no doubt faster than it should.”


(By the way, nobody was hurt)

An open letter to the Princess trapped by a Dragon – by Prince Charming

The letter you wrote me was sweet as cherry, and so was the mark of your lips, which particularly startled my heart. I’ll cherish it, always.
I hope one day to see your real lips, but that day will not be after I slay the dragon that has imprisoned you – because I will do no such thing. Continue reading

Non-Extraordinary and Going Strong

My friend, O: My parents help me too much. Sometimes my sister and I have to be like “stop it, dad, let us take care of ourselves.” We have to grow up, you know?
Me: I get it.
O: And then I just think … wow, I’m lucky to have such parents. They’ll catch me if I fall.
Me: yeah, we’re very lucky. Do you ever think about that? We’re upper middleclass without traumas, non-divorced parents – irony underscored by the fact that I’m saying non-divorced and not still-together parents – white women
O: in the best time to be a woman!
Me: Exactly! We’re white, straight women from upper middleclass and ee have all this technology, all these possibilities. Our part of the world isn’t involved in any crazy wars, we’re both getting educations we really like and we’ll probably live pretty solid lives throughout.
O: Yup. We’re so ordinary.
Me: *Laughter* I know a few people who would disagree.
O: *Frown* Yes. And they’d be correct. In fact, we’re not ordinary at all. As I said, we’re lucky. Privileged is the word.
Short silence.
Me: You’d think I’d be bored at this prospect, but to be honest I’m just sort of looking forward to it.

Transformations – Short Story

We saved our little world and of course that was great. People who would have been cold in their grave, or too torn apart for just one grave, went about their lives, complaining over late hours, incompetent staff and cold dinners.
We did a lot of good, the seven of us, but it felt wrong. Every day was a rosebush in my heart, each victim saved a beautiful flower and each word from my comrades a thorn. Inside my heart.
Thud, thud.
Pierce, pierce.
The worst kind of thing was like when a hishi spirit came towards me and I knew that now, now was when I’d die.
Jeremy got in the way. To his white bear-form I could almost be grateful.
After battle Tessa let us transform back to our human forms and he came over to tease. “Gotten slow, huh? Look out or you might become a burden. Oi, Tessa. Did you give her any power?”
Tessa glanced from him to me with her big, dark eyes. She nodded. Tessa was the quiet leader. So quiet anyone, really, could take her position without being called out on it.
“Next time,” Jeremy added, “maybe you should do that combo with Sadie.”
Sadie snorted. I glared at him. He knew full well that Sadie and I failed whatever we set both our minds to. Such was the fates of the underdogs, both struggling for second last.
“Myra,” Tessa said before Jeremy could continue, “take a few days off.”
I nodded.
In the end, Tessa IS the leader. She holds our power, she distributes, and she withdrew mine. She left me with a minimum, enough for an emergency. She ought to have left me more. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it with this but said nothing and went home. Continue reading