Don't You Like How These Posts Are About Nothing?

8:53 p.m.

Oh Kara, how unproductive you've been this week. But! I did paint a little this morning.

I did!

I'm fairly certain 4-5 hours of sleep a night is killing my desire to paint maniacally. One excrutiatingly night at a time.

In other news, it is halfway through July. The summer is busy, it is overwhelming, but things are going okay. MORE SUMMER GOAL UPDATES AND OTHER SUMMER CRAP:

--Despite this little lapse, I've been getting a lot of art done. I feel stressed about my art, but happy that I'm pushing myself to work. I'm producing a lot, and I'm seeing improvements.
--The Job Drama of 2006 has been settled, after a stressful day involving three job offers and my squeamish acceptance of the lowest paying one. So. I'm going to be full-time at the gallery soon, and after long deliberations and examinings of my gut instinct, I believe my gut instinct was correct. I feel satisfied and content about this decision. I feel good about the gallery.
--Last night I ran over half a mile and didn't get winded, which was impressive because of my ridiculous break from running. Monk jogged along on his leash. It was SO FUN.
--Still haven't had time to read.
--Still haven't had time to write.

I've also quietly been working on the acceptance of my body. (Dramatic music here. That's right, this blog is turning into a regular Lifetime special.) I think I'm making strides. Or perhaps tiny baby steps. But. The mornings of panic attacks over the contents of the closet and how it appears on my body are growing fewer and fewer. I've come across an interesting site where women photograph their bellies, and last night I took some photos of my own. And my hips.

I was sort of shocked to discover that, oh, look at that, it looks like a normal belly. And I was shocked to discover I like how my waist looks. And why does seeing this in the mirror make me miserable some days, but seeing it on a screen...it gives me no shudders, no panic? Perhaps I'm removed from it.












I don't know how long I'll leave this photo up. I feel sort of nerve-wracked about it, not that anyone reads this page. Sort of like I'm going to throw up. But also relieved, it's sort of a release.

Today I went jean shopping with Michele, and after trying on 90 jillion different pairs with no success (seriously, designers, I thought ultra-low cut was going out. I mean, I don't want jeans to go up to my bra straps, but...enough with the butt-crack display. Enough!), and I didn't freak out. I didn't think "oh crap I gotta not eat for the next three days" and I didn't beat myself up. I realized that the jeans we saw just weren't what I wanted. I laughed a lot with Michele and agreed we needed to head to Denver where there are more stores. And options.

After all, it's not that I need to lose a ton of weight. It's that the only two stores here are the Western wear store and the college-hoochie-it-up store. Come on!

I'm feeling quite a bit healthier, do you see? Do you see?

Healthier!

It seems as if there was something else I wanted to let my brain belch onto this page. Probably something about my concern over what's happening in the Middle East. Probably something else trivial about the dog, something funny about Justin using the phrase "I was born with two buttholes," possibly a rant about wanting a cigarette and a big fat thank you to Justin for keeping me from it.

I also might have worked something in about the street dance we were witness to last night, but you know what? I'm tired.

I give up,
black sheep

Happy puddly Monk after a two mile run/walk and an hour of fetch: