I'm Too Skinny? And Pregnant?

This morning I was told that I wasn't eating enough. That's only happened twice in my entire life.

The first time was my sophomore year of high school when I became obsessed with having abs. (Which I still think to this day is not physically possible with my body type unless I take some kind of alternate substance to help my muscles grow. Which would look weird and gross.) My father came home from work, looked at me rooting around in the fridge and said, "you need to eat more. You're too skinny."

At the time, I was running several miles a week, I had just had a huge growth spurt over the summer and was doing 1000 crunches a day. I repeat: 1000 crunches. Every. Single. Day.

I'd wake up and roll out of my bed onto the floor and do 200, plus another 300 before leaving for school after breakfast. When I got home from school, I'd do another 300 and 200 before bed. It hurt to laugh.

Yeah. There was seriously something wrong with me.

This time, it was from my Ob-GYN or Lady Doc as I shall now call her. I weighed in this morning at 132 pounds a around 12 weeks in my pregnancy. I was 135 pounds when I found out I was pregnant. I now have a tiny little belly bump which just looks like I ate a few giant bowls of pasta, but it's there! Oh, Husband and I are fondly calling the baby Bean from now until we find out the gender.

Lady Doc talked to me about the importance of nutrition and how I need to not be afraid of how fat I'm going to get. She told me how she can't remember what she looked like when "she was a whale" as she called it. Her mind completely blocked what she had looked like. She remembers being pregnant but not what it looked like.

It felt strange. I not choosing not to eat. Bean is still sometimes making me puke up everything. I've developed a brand spanking new lactose intolerance (which is normal) and had to figure out a whole new way to eat. I'm only NOW getting my appetite back.

But they way she talked to me, you'd think I'd been caught hiding food or bingeing. Lately, I walk around the apartment in tight shirts and yell for Husband to look at my belly. I definitely wouldn't say I'm worried about getting fat.

Although she told me I have to gain a full 30 pounds by the time I reach the end of my pregnancy. It's normally anywhere from 25-30 but because of my size and weight, she wants it to be the full 30 pounds. My cat is around 5 pounds. That's like draping 6 of him all over my body. Or more appropriately, stacking 6 of him on my stomach. That FREAKS ME OUT. 30 pounds?! That's a lot.

So needless to say, this whole pregnancy thing is all shiny and full of happiness at the joy of life. I'm practically glowing as I sit, having to pee in the laundromat but not wanted to use the nasty bathroom.

Also, I'm hungry. Again. Maybe Taco Bell on the way home? Mmmm.....

Isn't it glamorous?

Happy New Year, 18 days Late....

Well, even with the guilty hints from Twixter One, it has taken me a total of 18 days to update this brand new year, on top of the almost 6 months it has been since I've even updated at all.

Wow. That was an embarrassing revelation.

I had such high hopes of blogging all last year. It was supposed to be awesome! Twixter One and I had been working on getting our blog out there for the world to see then we just....stopped. Well, I stopped. Twixter One at least attempted, kind of. :)

Now is a new year, a time for new starts. I decided not to have any New Years Resolutions. I find I either never remember them or just feel guilty at the end of the year for not accomplishing them. The not accomplishing is usually followed by excuses to why it was an unrealistic goal in the first place. Excuse-Excuse-Whine-Whine-Whine.

Well I'm tired of whining. And I'm tired of my own excuses. So this year is a year about doing. Not goal setting and listing, it's a year of making it happen. Figuring out what the hell I actually LOVE in my life. Because I still don't truly know. I still feel like that floundering high school girl who can't decide what to major in because that determines what she'll be doing for the next 30 years of her life. How wrong was I? (Incredibly wrong, actually.)

So the real reason behind all this "doing" not pretending is my big news of 2011. I found out just before Christmas that Husband and I are expecting a little Twixter of our own. You read correctly. I'm preggo.

I do have to say how excited I am. This was not planned per say, but Husband and I were planning on kids within the next year or so anyhow. It was just a tidbit earlier than we had hoped. Nothing wrong with that. Everyone keeps telling me you are never truly ready to have kids. You just have to make it happen.

So yes, I do feel a sort of time crunch. Every time I get sick (which for me is night sickness, not morning sickness) I'm reminded of how much my body and life are going to be changing. Will forever be changed after this baby is born.

A little bit of honesty: When Husband and I found out I was pregnant, I freaked out. And not in a good way. All I saw was myself raising kids and doing nothing for the rest of my life. I mean, I have 6 college classes left to a degree. When am I going to take them? When are we going to want to set aside extra money for a crazy irresponsible projects (like moving across the country to start a production company) after we have kids? We actually have to be adults now.

Needless to say, I calmed down. A LOT. After the initial shock faded, I got excited. Who says my life has to end? It's a baby, not an anchor. My journey on this ocean of life doesn't need to marooned forever. I just picked up some extra crew.

My parents worked really hard to keep doing what they wanted to do with their lives, even after I was born. They started several business, and just kept living. I want that. I want to keep living. I'm still only 23 years old. (Oh yeah, my birthday was in November).

So there's that. Man, I forgot how awesome it feels to blog.

Hm. Maybe I can actually keep DOING it. What do you think Twixter One?

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year! And ... OOPS! Looks like Twixter Two and I have managed to let our little blog slip for quite some time now. But I promise you, there is good reason behind it. The last six-months have been a roller coaster, to say the least, with plenty of changes to talk about. I’ll let Twixter Two catch you up on her stories (hint-hint, clue-clue, guilt-guilt) but as for me I feel like so much has changed, to the point it seems like nothing has changed! But nonetheless - here are the highlights:

CH-CH- CH- CHANGES!
The biggest change in the past 6-months actually happened just a couple days ago. After over a year-and-a-half of living an hour (or two) away from each other, The Boyfriend has finally moved up North! Now, he’s just a 10-minute drive away, and I’m LOVING IT! After months of fighting graduation and unemployment, he finally landed a gig at one of the studios in town. It only took a couple weeks of that torturous 2-hour drive to convince him it was time to get a place up North.

I’m SO flippin’ excited to have him near me, although I have to admit, it’s going to take an adjustment. We have been in “relationship survival mode” for so long - planning out our dates weeks in advance, going days upon days without seeing each other - than now I’m not sure how to handle having a “full-time” boyfriend! Of course - it’s a great problem to have, and a great way to start 2011!

CH-CH-CH-CHANGING!
Speaking of moving: After over a year and a half at my current place, I’m pulling out the moving boxes once again. (or maybe just stealing what’s left of The Boyfriends). Over the last month its become very clear that it was time for The Actress and I to go our separate ways. (A story for another time, when distance allows me to laugh about it rather than scream.) Half of me is itching and excited to find a new place, but the other half is dreading the pack up and move dance. I can’t wait for the day when home is permanently home!

So, now it’s time for the roommate hunt, which is always frustrating, weird, and awkward. I find it funny that when dating someone you take months, even years, to decide that they are worthy enough to share your home with. But when hunting for a roommate you have a week - sometimes only days - to decide that they’re good enough to move in with - even if it’s just for a year or two. Needless to say, my roommate hunt so far has brought out it’s share of kooks, but there’s a few bright spots on the horizon that I hope will be a perfect fit.

CH-CH-CH-NOPE.
Strangely enough, the one thing that I THOUGHT would change over these past 6-months is still the same. I’d been on the job hunt over the summer months, when a “new” opportunity fell into my lap. After a good friend left our small company, her position was served to me on a sparkling silver platter. Goodbye Assistant-hood, hello - well, another job. I’d love to say that Production Coordinator was my dream job, but it brought with it quite a few obstacles to jump over (or run over) along the way. There are days that I absolutely love my job, and others that make me want to run crying back to Vegas. But, as my family continues to remind me, that’s business, so I’m sticking it out for at least a couple more months.

Of course, this all could change come February, when I’m expecting/ hoping/ praying for an acceptance letter to a industry program I applied for last November. This will be my 2nd year applying, and while I know not to get my hopes up (I have a 15/2000 chance of landing it) I can’t help but hope that this will be my year.

As I look back over 2010, I realize that it was a year of rest for me. 2010 taught me how to be satisfied with my life - to enjoy my job, my friends, and my city. However, sometimes I wonder if it crossed the line and not only taught me to be satisfied, but also to be comfortable living the same-old, same-old day after day. As I face a 2011 that I hope will be filled with changes, the comfortable part of Twixter One starts to get more and more anxious about what is to come. While I know that change is good, I have to remind me that in order to change, I have to lose control of that aspect of my life - something that I DEFINITELY don’t like to do. I’m smart enough to know that one day I’ll look back at this part of my life, and everything will once again make sense. Of course, I wouldn’t mind a little common sense here and now too.

Happy New Year All!

Family Vacation

When I was really little, summer vacations were never a big deal in my family. I remember summers where all my friends would leave to go on road trips to Yosemite or the Beach, and always wondered why my family was stuck at home.

The truth is, my dad is not a big fan of crowds. It’s like pulling teeth to get him to play tourist - and to travel during the busiest time of the year is an absolute no go. Instead, we’d take our summer vacations in October - every October 31st to be exact. (Nevada Day for those who are unaware, when Nevada school children get the day off for Halloween to celebrate Nevada becoming a state). Most of the time this meant a trip to Disneyland, where my mother would dress all of the kids in horrific tye dye Micky Mouse sweatshirts and tote us around the park. (I’m pretty sure our family photo is still up for the world to see in the photo shop. yikes!) On the years that we didn’t go to Disneyland, we’d join in with a few other families and rent a houseboat for a week at Lake Mead, leaving me with many memories of a half a dozen kids sleeping under the stars on the roof of the houseboat.

My family eventually caught on to the nature of summer vacations once I was in high school. That’s when we discovered the Lake of the Ozarks. Lake of the Ozarks is a 23-hour drive from Las Vegas, and of course with MY dad that meant we’d be driving. My dad’s version of cross country road trips involves only stopping when the car says so. You have exactly the amount of time it takes to fill up the gas tank on my dad’s F250 to grab food, use the facilities, and do as many jumping jacks as possible before it’s time to hit the road for another 300 miles. As soon as I had my first job I began saving for plane tickets to the Ozarks, and I haven’t looked back since.

By the time we reached the Ozarks my family was ready for a week straight of vacation. It was the perfect vacation - our lake house tucked away at the shore - a 20 minute drive to the closest convenience store, an hours drive from the closest Walmart. It was the perfect vacation - a REAL vacation - with no plans, nothing to see, nothing to do. We went skiing, suntanned, grabbed lunch on the lake - and once we were old enough a couple of beers too. It is the idealistic vacation, and one that I relied on to refresh and replenish my soul.

As I type this, my family is currently enduring the endless road trip back to Nevada. The Baby is begging to watch another episode of Hannah Montana on the laptop, and The Teenager is complaining that she can’t get cell signal in no-wheres-ville. My mom is suggesting they stop at the cute little antique store on the side of the road, and my Dad is staring at the road sending mean thoughts to my brother for flying home early. My brother is already back early in Vegas - thinking up the best excuse to explain why he stole the Land Sharks that were being brought back for me.

Meanwhile, I’m sitting in my office, staring at a picture of the lake house on my computer screen, and pretending the sound of my air filter is really water lapping up on the lake shore.

No, my family didn’t disown me when I decided to move to LA. I was still welcome to come on our family vacation, and spent months studying the ticket prices on Allegiant hoping to grab a stellar sale. However, responsibility soon weaseled it’s way in. My vacation days were few, and as the trip came closer I was holding out for a very important phone call that I just couldn’t miss.

The time came for my family to leave, and I stayed in LA. Work was slow - I had nothing to do. and the phone call never came. Suddenly staying in LA sounded like the worst idea ever.

I wanted to call my Mom to pout and complain, thinking maybe I could trick her into suggesting that she’d pay for my plane ticket. I wanted to call my Dad and remind him that 22 is still REALLY young to be living completely independent in one of the biggest cities on earth, and doesn’t he want to see his little girl again? I wanted to throw a hissy fit, to have Mom and Dad rescue me from the boredom and frustration that is living an adult life - let me escape to the Ozarks where there is no such things as worries.

Instead a grew up, threw on my business flats, and went to work. Being an adult isn’t always so fun.

Staycation

When I first started at my current job, there was one thing that I was particularly excited about: VACATION DAYS. The idea that once I worked long enough the company would PAY me to take a day off and travel to exotic locations was the cherry on top.

Of course, I didn't consider the fact that being paid for vacation days didn't necessarily mean I could afford to travel to these exotic locales. So instead my vacation days have sat unused - or even worse, used for doctors appointments.

This past weekend I finally took the plunge and took an elaborate, exciting and thrilling 4-day vacation - to Los Angeles. That's right - I took a vacation at home. Before you roll your eyes at the term "staycation" however, let me explain. I turned my vacation response on. My cell phone off. My computer stayed at my desk. Heck - I didn't even get on Facebook!

The Best flew down from Nor Cal, The Fashionista drove up from Orange County and we had a full fledged girls weekend. This WAS the kind of weekend we had dreamed about in college. We drank Bitch Wine and ate Tarts until 2 am, laid out on the beach all day, and ate at this hole-in-the-wall Hollywood spot called Miceli's where our waiter was an actor who sang "Falling in Love with You" to us gals.

On Saturday we spent bucket loads of money as we shopped literally until we dropped, and then attempted to make fruity girly drinks from sorbet and rum picked up spontaneously from Trader Joes. Sunday was a hike through Griffith Park’s “Old Zoo” and a fireworks show in the park, before we all crashed on Monday morning.

It was the perfect weekend, something that I badly needed to rejuvenate my soul and brighten my outlook on life. I think my roommate, The Actress, said it best when she mentioned that she'd never heard me laugh like that in the year we've been living together!

There is nothing that can replace good, quality time with girlfriends who intimately love and know you. There's no embarrassment, no explaining needed - just girls who know you and accept you for all your quirky qualities.

It’s been a year since I’ve moved to LA, and slowly I’ve found my way around this city and made quite a few friends in the process. But no matter how exciting the city, after a while the hum drum of life gets you down and you need something special to pick you up.

That’s where I learned the benefit of having your best friends live miles apart. There is no room to take friendships for granted, there’s no assuming that they’ll always be around for drinks or a movie. They don’t become a part of the hum drum of life.

Instead, they’re the special, amazing, miraculous thing that picks you up and brightens your outlook on life again. That turns your old hum drum of a city into an exciting staycation worth more than any Caribbean cruise. Suddenly, the distance doesn’t seem half that bad.

The Epitome of My Nerdiness: Vidcon 2010

Oh. *shuffles awkwardly* It's, uh, been a while. No, things have been fine. Been busy. *looks down* You? Oh that's nice.

So as per usual, I haven't been here in a while. Over a month in fact. Whoops. But here I am now and I have some fun happening this week and I'd like to blog about it.

First, on July 11 is my 1 year anniversary. How crazy is that? It feels like just yesterday I was writing things like this. It's been such a strange journey. I realized just yesterday that I've been in Las Vegas for 7 months. I honestly thought it had only been less than 6. I thought that film school was still not that long ago. It really was that long ago. Time is moving by so fast and I don't know what to do about it.

But for our Anniversary, Husband and I are going down to Southern California to go to Disneyland!!! I haven't been in a very long time and I can't wait to go watch World of Color and visit all my favorite rides. Bonus is we also get in free since we know someone who works there still and will sign us in. Thus making it even more awesome.

But here's the craziest news. There is the conference in Los Angeles called Vidcon. And I'm going. Now many of you are asking, "Well, Twixter Two, what is Vidcon?" I'm so glad you asked.

I'll let the Vidcon2010.com site tell you in its own words: Vid-Con is a three-day conference bringing together the brightest lights in the billion-views-a-day community known as the online video industry. Join us at the first ever gathering of the most influential and popular independent video makers online and the communities that have made them a force in the world.

So pretty much one of the nerdiest things I've ever done. But here's the crazy story of how I ended up with probably 2 of the last 25 tickets available.

Husband and I were going to the midnight premiere of Eclipse (which was awesome by the way. Other update to come for that) where we realized it would be a great place to promote BITE. So we printed out little papers and walked the line selling BITE to random people waiting. I cannot begin to describe how difficult it is to explain to people that YouTube is used for more that just the dramatic chipmunk and Charlie Bit Me videos. There are people making careers out of it and I want to be one of those people.

After walking the line and the getting into the theater, we had about an hour to just wait. So Husband brought up Vidcon. He had randomly researched it while he was at work and wanted to talk about maybe going to promote BITE. Now here's the weird part: That day, I had received a random commission check from the job I hated for the EXACT amount of 2 tickets to Vidcon. The same day Husband randomly looked at Vidcon was the day I got my check. So we decided to just go. We were already going to be in California, we'd just have to extend the trip 2 days. Seemed worth it to us. So we got home from Eclipse around 3:30 AM, bought tickets, and the next morning it was sold out. Crazy, right? I know!

So we're now headed to Vidcon to attempt to promote and network and have an awesome time. I can't describe how excited I am to be there. I've been wanting to attend Vidcon since its inception and now I really get to be there.

So more update posts to come this weekend! Vidcon is Friday and Saturday. Disneyland is Sunday. Fun with Friends and figuring out how I'm finishing school Monday and Tuesday. I'm going to be so tired when we get back.

Miss you all (Especially you, Twixter One.)

--Twixter Two

The Bad Blog

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged, and though there’s a reason, I’ve been holding back from blogging about it.

In fact, I’ve been undecided since we started this blog about whether or not I’d blog about the subject at all. For one, this is a blog about growing up and while this certainly defines my version of “growing up”, it deviates so far away from everyone else’s version of “growing up” that I can’t argue it into the margin of error. And for two, it’s something that I usually avoid talking about. In fact, it’s something that actually took me a year to be comfortable telling anyone about at all - let alone announcing it to the world wide web.

But unfortunately at this stage in my life its becoming so overwhelming that its keeping me from blogging - both physically keeping me from being able to sit down at my laptop, and mentally keeping me from having anything to blog about.

I have fibromyalgia. The name probably sounds familiar, meaning that you’ve seen the commercial on at 2 o’clock in the afternoon where a silver haired old lady talks about her aches and pains and then supposes that the upcoming drug (and all the surgeon’s general warnings with very fine print) help her to live a normal life.

Well, I’m 22 years old and I feel like I’m doing about as well as a 78 year old lady. at least for now my hair is still brown.

Fibromyalgia wreaks havoc on your body. It makes you joints hurt, your muscles hurt, all the way down to your knuckles and your fingertips. There is never a day where my pain level is below a 4 or 5 - and those are the days I consider “good days.” My body is in a constant nerve war, leaving me continually exhausted physically and often cloudy and unfocused mentally.

I say this and it all makes sense to me, however I know that most people who read this will simply pass it off as “yea, I have days like that too” or think of me as a whinny hypochondriac who can’t handle being a little under the weather.

Well, I’m going on 3-years of being “under the weather” - a turbulent up and down, where I never know how I’m going to wake up the next morning. I’m tired of waking up each day and doing a mental check - legs good, knees bad, lower back is fine but my throat muscles are so stiff I can barely breathe. The last couple of months have been even worse as the doctor is trying to adjust my medication, leaving me in near tears every morning when it’s time to crawl out of bed.

It’s hard to explain, and even harder to explain how others should deal with the info. I don’t want to be treated differently, to have others tip toe around me or think that every time I sniffle it’s because of the fibro. (It’s not.) and yet, I need people to know and understand that I’m not a lazy or an unreliable friend when I constantly have to shift or back out of things.

I wish I was a normal twenty something, and most of the time I try to pretend that it’s so. I think I do a pretty good job of it. I push myself to go to parties and say yes to movie invitations, even when I know that it will be a mental game of “I think I can” to get myself through. Most days, it’s an accomplishment to make it through a 9-hour day at work, and when the clock hits 5:30 a sense of relief overcomes me that I haven’t fallen apart yet.

I don’t want to be like this. I’m not the introvert who wants to stay her room all day and follow friends on facebook who are out having marvelous adventures. I want to be out there, doing fun, crazy and insane things that you’re supposed to do in your twenties. But sometimes I feel like it’s going to take my entire twenties to fight through this miserable disease, and that by the time I come out on the other side I’ll find myself in adulthood having to “grow up” - when “growing up” is the only thing I’ve been doing the last year and a half that I’ve been on this regimen.

I wish this post wasn’t so disheartening or so sad, or that I had some cheery “so what do you think” to add to the end of it, but the fact is - life just kind of sucks right now. I feel like I’ve hit a rut - and this disease is only helping to turn the rut into a deep endless pit that I’ll never get out of. This week I’m making another trek over to the doctor to figure out what is going on, though that never seems to be the final answer. So, for now, excuse the spotty posting - if I ever get back to feeling close to normal again, I promise you more blogs will resume.