I'm on holidays at the moment. Yay holidays!  Here is a blog post I prepared earlier:

Good morning, Readers!

A friend knew I was feeling down, and so he kindly took me out to the movies.  I requested Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle, because I wanted something light and silly.  Here is my review of the movie.

Okay, this movie is dumb.  But it's the great kind of dumb, the kind where you can turn off your thoughts and laugh at the silly moments, cheer at the awesome moments and just have a good time.

​Turn off your brain, though.  It's not needed here.

In truth, this movie followed in the vein of stupid humour that I usually detest.  Luckily, it doesn't sink quite so low as other 'comedies,' but this did resort to dick jokes and tired tropes of nerds vs. jocks and so forth.

It did have a few good character moments, when those stereotypes were challenged and characters that would normally be at odds with each other end up forming a strong bond.

The whole cast was strong, with Karen Gillan shining as both the kick-arse Ruby Roundhouse, who is, ultimately, still that insecure, nerdy brainiac at heart.  Gillan managed to find and embody both in the same avatar.  I loved her character.

Jack Black playing a male avatar of a female character missed the mark oh so slightly, coming off as everyone's favourite gay friend, rather than the woman he was supposed to be.  That said, he was hilarious in the role.

Dwayne Johnson and Kevin Hart were both hilarious as well, both of them playing people whose physical attributes are drastically altered.  The 'smoulder' gag was also hilarious.  I enjoyed that a lot.

A surprise to me was Nick Jonas, who, it turns out, is a pretty decent actor.  Of all the character shenanigans going on around him, he played the straight man brilliantly.  This is the first time I've seen him on screen, and I'm not disappointed.

There were some great moments that reference NPCs and their bizarre behaviour when experienced in real life, which made me giggle.

The villain of the piece was the most cliché thing about the movie, which was not all that disappointing, since it was precisely what I had been expecting.  It could have been better, and there were some wonderfully creepy moments with him, but they were few and far in between.  If I was hoping for a more brilliant movie, I'd have hated him as a character, but, well, I wasn't expecting much.

This movie as a whole is precisely what you would expect.  It's funny, has a lot of action, and enough heart to satisfy a casual viewer.  The story has some wonderful throwbacks to the original, including a mention of the late, great Robin William's character.

This movie isn't brilliant.  In fact, it's pretty dumb.

It is exactly what you'd expect when going to see it.  And sometimes, what you need is a dumb movie that is also fun.  Just be sure to turn your brain off while watching.  It is not required, and would be much more enjoyable without it.

I am on holidays at the moment. Yay! Holidays!  So here is a blog post I prepared ahead of time:

Good morning, Readers!

Chances are, I'm actually in bed, wishing for water and junk food.  It's the holidays.  I'm not actually here.  So, instead of a proper blog post, have some videos of me being dumb while gaming:

Playlist here.

Playlist here.

Playlist here.

Playlist here.

Hope your Christmas break was great.  I'll be back in real life on the 2nd of January.

​Ciao!

Hello beautiful people!  It's Christmas, and I'm celebrating with family right now.

I just wanted to extend my sincerest wishes for all of you to have a fabulous holiday, whichever one you celebrate, and that I see you soon, healthy and happy.

I'm thinking of you this holiday season, and I'm so grateful for each and every one of you.

Have a brilliant day.

Good morning, Readers!

Last night, I had a peak episode in a headache that have been nursing for the past couple of days.  I was in a tonne of pain, and it just wasn't good.  The source of the pain was easy to identify.  The muscles at the base of my skull were seizing, as they do when I'm very stressed.

It's Christmas.  I'm going to have to talk to people who are abusive.  I don't want to.  I'm preparing for war.  It has me stressed.

Aaaanyway.  The stress had my muscles seizing and a terrible headache resulted.  Then, the Amazing Flatmate lent me a thing.  It's a weird thing that stretches out the neck into the position it's supposed to be in... or something...  I'm not sure.

I can tell you that once you've used it, you can't just sit up.  That hurts like a mofo.  You just roll off the thing.  And then you lay there until your neck muscles can function again without screaming agony.  Then you get up.

That thing was miraculous.  After I could move again, the headache peak I was experiencing was gone.  My mood was much improved and I had the best sleep in a long time last night.

I'm using that strange magical torture device again.  It hurt.  Genuinely.  But the pay-off was soooooooooooo worth it.

Here's a question: what painful thing do you have/do that genuinely makes you feel so much better for having used/done it?

Good morning, Readers.

I'm feeling a lot better today.  Yesterday was really rough for me, but I took the time for some kitten cuddles, a lot of tea, and some calming music.  Plus, the Amazing Flatmate made some truffles for her family's Christmas, and there were some left over. Yum!

Plus, Galahad seemed to know that I was sad, so he was extra cuddly.  I took a photo and posted it on Facebook.  Shortly after that, he woke, crawled closer to me, and fell asleep with one paw on my chest.  He's a dumb cat.  Honestly.  He's not bright.  But he is lovely.  It didn't cure the sads, but it really did make me feel better.

Things being so normal at home also helped.  I fought, unsuccessfully I might add, tears the entire way home.  It took me a bit to step inside too.  I didn't want to walk through the door howling my distress.  So once I got home, I stood outside and cried for a bit.

Sounds pretty pathetic, really, when I write it out.  But honestly, you need to cry it out every so often.  Last night was just one of those nights.  Life lesson: Don't be ashamed of your tears.  Not only is it cathartic to bawl every so often, but it's actually useful.  Tears contain all kinds of excess hormones that your body needs to be rid of.  Cry.  It's healthy.

Once inside, things improved a lot.  The cats were there.  The Amazing Flatmate was fussing with Christmas gifts in the kitchen.  I had tea, and music and could rest in a place that felt familiar and safe.

It was exactly what the doctor ordered.

I'm much better today.

Thanks everyone for your messages of support.  I don't write about my mood to gather pity.  Mostly, it's because I live so much in my head, blogging about how I'm doing helps me get out of that space and create some distance between myself and my depression.  That helps me in dealing with it.  I also write about it because no one was talking about this stuff when I was going through the worst of it.  No one.  I felt so alone and isolated.  I don't want anyone else to feel like that.  So I write about it.

All the same, I really do appreciate you taking the time to send a positive message.  It was very sweet.  Thank you.

Now I'm off to make more tea.

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers.

Last night was the annual final workout and dinner for the small weights crew in the Wutan school.  We work out, then all go out to dinner.

It's genuinely a good time.  Our crew is great.  They're kind, funny, silly, and I am almost always laughing with them.

As usual, however, this last session left me feeling disappointed with myself.  Please excuse me while I wax lyrical about my various issues with myself.

I'm disappointed.

My strength is not where I feel it should be.  My weight is not what I think it should be.  My measurements make me sad.  All I could see while training were my terrible shortcomings.  This frustrates me on two levels, the first being the frustration felt at not being where I think I should, and the second at my frustration for feeling frustrated.

I mean, it should be enough that I'm trying.  Sure, I'm not as strong as the rest of the crew, but I'm working towards greater strength.  And who cares if I'm chubby?  I eat well.  I'm healthy, and quite fit (my resting heart rate is 54bpm, which is pretty good, if I do say so myself).

But these things nag at me.  Why, with all the work I do, am I still so chubby?  I see people around me eating more and working less, and they're slim.  I've seen people who don't work out at all, and they look fit as fuck.  I know, logically, they're not.  I get it.  But all the forced logical thinking in the world does absolutely nothing about making myself feel better about the way my body is.

Some of this is, I know logically, the result of living in such a fat-phobic world, surrounded all my life, particularly growing up, with horribly fat-phobic people.  Walking down the street, watching films and television, and being consistently shown images and stories where fat = bad, evil, ugly, or stupid and inept.  It really fucks you up, particularly if you have the genetic trait of YOUR ANCESTORS LIVED WHERE IT WAS COLD, HERE'S SOME FUCKING INSULATION YOU MISERABLE INGRATE.  Being utterly unable to shed the weight while eating like a normal person in a world where beauty requires you to have an unhealthily low body fat percentage fucks with you.  Growing up, I would look in the mirror and weep at what I saw there, hating what was reflected back at me.  Things have improved, but I sometimes, more that I'd like to admit, I fall back into that self-hate.  Never more than when I'm surrounded by a gym full of strong, fit people and I'm underperforming.  As usual.

I hate feeling like this, not just because it's a shitty way to feel, but because I know my body fat percentage is not an indication of my overall health.  I'm healthy.  Really healthy.  But all the logic in the world can't save me from a lifetime of the same message drilled into the psyche of every girl.

You don't deserve to feel beautiful if don't fit this narrow, impossible definition of beauty.

It's bullshit.  I know it's bullshit.  And yet, here I am, disappointed in my reflection and saddened by my measurements.

And I don't even want to be slender like a gazelle.  Fuck that idiotic ideal.  I want to be fit and strong.  Like a lioness.  I don't mind having muscles, however many people tell me that muscles on a woman is so very unattractive (and I've been told that a lot).  Fuck those people.  I think it's beautiful.  But I can't even seem to achieve that.

Don't mind me being morose.  I always get like this after the end of year weights session.  I'll recover, and stop feeling sorry for myself soon enough.  I'm just super frustrated today, and needed to articulate it.

A note to anyone who made it this far, you are beautiful.  You really are.  I know it's hard to believe it sometimes, especially when all media, it seems, and even people IRL, pretty much everyone and everything, is telling you you're not.

You are.

And you're not alone in your struggles.  I guarantee you that even those who appear to having the perfect everything are also struggling.

​Hugs.