Kyle Hepp

May 27, 2007

I AM bold, spontaneous, confident, whiny, a big baby, loving, funny.

I WANT to get a job that makes me happy and pays me well.

I WISH we had money to leave for a trip around the world tomorrow.

I MISS my brother like crazy.

I HEAR what people don’t say.

I WONDER if I am attractive.

I REGRET the crappy cake on my wedding day

I AM NOT a morning person.

I DANCE daily, nightly and every so rightly, all the time, for exercise, because I like the music that’s playing, because I’m happy, because I’m listening to the rhythm in my own head, I dance constantly and consistently bad.

I AM NOT ALWAYS a little ray of sunshine.

I MAKE WITH MY HANDS food to feed the stomach and the soul of my husband and myself.

I WRITE in this blog, I recently remembered how much I love it.

I CONFUSE being thin with being happy.

I NEED a winter wardrobe.

I SHOULD go to bed soon, its almost 4am.

I START exercise and diet plans often.

I FINISH stages of my life by packing up a suitcase and moving on.

2 Comments

May 25, 2007

Why is food so addictive? And why do some people have normal healthy relationships with food, while others (me) think about eating 24 hours a day, 7 days a week? Back in the day when I was overweight, I thought it was a fat person thing. I thought, when I’m skinny, I will be normal. Well, I’m kinda sorta skinny now but I’m still not normal.

Food is constantly on my mind. I have to plan out what I’m going to eat at least a day before because if I don’t I will overeat. I need to know what is going to be going into my mouth and when or impromptu eating will lead me to take in way more calories than I need to. For example, if S comes home and suggests we go out to eat, and we go to a restaurant, I inevitably pig out. Just a big huge oinkfest. Its something about not having been mentally prepared for the mind over matter battle. If I know we are going to go out to eat at least a day in advance, I start thinking about what I am going to order. I gear myself up to resist temptation, or I don’t eat anything else all day long so I can indulge.

That’s why I do fine on normal structured days. I am great at following a diet or good eating habits as long as there are no surprises. But, lo and behold, the second my mother in law comes a knockin’ with leftover cake, I ruin everything!

I just can’t find a happy medium.

That frustrates me because I really want to lose these last 8 measly pounds so I can say I’ve lost 50lbs since high school. I would also love to be happy with my body, but how many women really, truly are? I’ve pretty much given up self acceptance as a goal because if it didn’t happen when I was running 10 miles a day and had abs to die for, its not going to happen now that all my muscles have atrophied from lack of use and I’ve turned into a blob, not unlike Santa and his belly that shakes like a bowl full of jelly. And of course, I look back and think, “Wow, I was HOT!” Someday I will look back at pictures from the here and now and think the same thing. But right this instance, am I capable of liking how I look or feeling good about myself? Of course not. For most women, the world just doesn’t work that way. And if you are someone who can happily accept her shape, size and jiggle quota, consider yourself damn lucky!

I’m so happy that I have been able to lose most of my excess weight and that I have learned how to live a healthier lifestyle. I just wish it wasn’t so mentally exhausting.

Sorry for the boring entry about food and diet and fat, etc. But, its my blog and I’ll cry if I want to, cry if I want, cry if I want to

3 Comments

May 24, 2007

Too much of nothing is just as tough
I need to know the way to feel to keep me satisfied

*Spice Girls

Yes, I know, I just quoted a Spice Girls song. The worst part is that I knew the lyrics by heart, I didn’t even have to look them up. But, c’mon! Who didn’t love themselves a little Spice Girls magic back in their glory day? Don’t deny it Anyways, the quote is relevant for two reasons. 1. It perfectly describes how I’m feeling. 2. I hear the Spice Girls are planning a comeback.

My husband, S and I, have been struggling to find a balance. This has been a continuous problem in our relationship and marriage since day one. He is obsessed with online gaming. I think he has a real problem, of course, he denies it. I get really upset and frustrated because I just want to spend quality time with him and all he wants to do is play his game. If I tell him he’s playing too much he gets so defensive and goes off on me naming off a list of all the “quality time” he can think of that we’ve spent together in the last week. This really annoys me, mostly because even when we do spend time together, out of the time that he is home from work I get an hour with him and his game gets seven hours.

My problem is that I don’t know when I’m asking too much of him, and what’s fair. Sometimes I think I’m really justified. I think he shouldn’t be playing 8 hours a day even if he weren’t married to me. But other times I wonder if its just asking him to give up gaming. This is because he works and I don’t, so I feel like my vote doesn’t carry equal weight in the relationship. He says, when he comes home, he’s too tired to do anything else. I understand being that tired, I’ve worked more than my fair share of 14 hour days on my feet in my lifetime. But why is it that he has enough energy to sit down at the computer and play and never fall asleep but if I suggest that we play cards or that he just come sit in the kitchen with me while I cook, he’s too tired? That just does wonders for my self-esteem. I’m too boring to keep him awake!

I’m all down in the dumps today. Whine, whine, whine. No, I don’t want any cheese with my damn whine. I hate cheese.

3 Comments

May 22, 2007

Either there is a ghost haunting me in this house or I am going crazy. Over the past couple weeks I have been hearing odd noises late at night. And not your typical, old creaky house noises either. One day I was trying to get to sleep and I heard footsteps on the ceiling above our room. Even though I was terrified beyond belief, the next day I convinced myself that it must’ve been my imagination.

Then about a week after that Seba and I were both in bed and I heard a tapping noise on the window. I sat straight up (of course Seba didn’t move, he could sleep through a hurricane) and froze. About five minutes of me not moving passed, and I finally relaxed. I thought it may have been somebody just walking by (our window overlooks the street). But just as I let my guard down, I heard the noise again. This time it sounded like somebody’s hand was pushing on the glass as if they were trying to break the pane. It was a very distinct noise, not at all as if it were an accident. I definitely felt as though someone were trying to get in.

The day after that very late at night, around 4 in the morning when Seba was already sleeping and I was at the computer I heard the doorknob turning to our bedroom door. I called out “Si?” because I actually thought it was Seba’s mom coming over to visit us in the middle of the night for some reason. Nobody said responded. I thought, well that’s weird, it must be my imagination again because I’ve been so on edge. And then the doorknob creaked again as if it were turning and as if that weren’t bad enough, the windchime that we have hanging next to the door rang a little bit. I screamed out, “Seba!” and he jumped out of bed and looked outside the door but there was no one. Besides, if there would’ve been a physical presence near our room the floor creaks so loud there’s no one anyone can get near without warning us.

Today I went to the back room to put some laundry away, and next to the back room is a door that’s always kept locked because it leads to the upstairs which is uninhabited and completely detoriorated. If there are ghosts I would be my life that they are living upstairs because that place could definitely be haunted. It certainly looks as if it were straight out of a horror movie. Anyways, when I went back to put the laundry away, the door next to the room I was in suddenly began banging back and forth. I swear, it was like something out of Poltergeist, the movie. I dropped my laundry, sprinted back to the room and began bawling my eyes out. I was that scared.

I’m not a person who spooks easy, nor do I have an overactive imagination. I mean, its possible that I’ve become really on edge from all these strange happenings but I know what’s real and what’s not. These events are not all in my head. And I’m FREAKING OUT!

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May 21, 2007

Today walking down the street to go get Chinese food, I had a thought. Yes, I know, that in and of itself is amazing.

It just amazes me that a human being can adapt so well to any circumstance. I looked at the sidewalks that were, not just cracked, but filled with holes so deep I could step into one and die. Seriously. My neighborhood is filled with mechanics workshops and bus garages. The houses don’t look like what I think a house should look like. Each house shares a wall with its neighbor, there’s no space between, and there’s no yard, not back or front. There’s not a wall in this neighborhood that’s not completely covered in grafiti. The streets are dusty and dirty, there are piles of trash all over the place with stray dogs ripping the bags apart looking for something to eat. Each person we pass is short and dark skinned. Small foreign made cars whiz by, models and makes that I had never seen until I moved to Chile. Everything is different.

Even Chinese food doesn’t taste like Chinese food.

For a year’s time I wandered around this place with my eyes wide. I was constantly surprised and amazed at everything I saw. Even though I had lived in the country for more than 12 months everything still seemed exciting and interesting. The newness seemed to never wear off.

Now nothing can phase me. I don’t know what’s better or worse. Now I see things as they are. Instead of some exotic location, this is just another dirty city. I don’t think the dogs I see are cute anymore, I don’t feel bad that they eat trash. Instead I just wish that Chilean people would wise up and get them all neutered and spayed. But, no, they don’t believe in that. So they have a dog and cat infestation problem and its disgusting. Instead of thinking the graffiti is colorful and gives the city personality, I just wonder why people don’t respect their country more and stop destroying public property. I see things for what they are.

I can no longer ignore the problems. I am no longer a visitor passing through, so these are now my problems too. This is home.

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