I spent money today. And I regret nothing.

First, I decided I needed a new pair of sneakers. The ones I currently have (though they've been to Europe and back) give me blisters when I go hardcore walking. Got some Nike cross-trainers, which fit like a dream and I'm so excited to break those suckers in. Go me!

Secondly, I finally decided it was bra shopping time. Out with the (not so) old and in with the new! On to positive body image and loving who I am for me. No more playing games, no more "Well. I'm a B cup, but I look like a D!" 

No no no. None of that.

Today, I got a new bra. I actually got four. But I'm so in love with the one that's currently on my body that I may have to go exchange two of the four I bought. We shall see. 

Anywho. 

The bra I got? It's called the Ella, from American Eagle.

My size? 34 (drumroll please) . . . C.

How it happened, I have no idea. I put on a 34B (because I knew I was getting tired of my ta-tas sliding out from under the band) and decided that I must still be a B, well, because I've been losing weight, right? I even grabbed an A, just in case. Apparently not. 

I put on the B, thinking it was the A, and lo and behold - I had a serious case of what I like to call "muffin boob." You know how when you get "muffin top" your love-handles hang over your jeans? "Muffin boob" is when you buy the wrong size bra, and your ta-tas look like they're trying to escape from the constraints - and not in a good way either.

Mind. Blown.

I walked out into the little fitting area, and a sales associate just so happened to walk in. So she looked at me, asked me if I needed any help, and I just stared at her, second guessing myself, before meekly saying "I think I need a 34C . . ."

I tried that sucker on and just couldn't believe my eyes. I was in love with a bra. And not just any bra. A non-padded bra. Goodbye "adds 2 cup sizes" and hello "HOLY SHIT, WATCH THAT CORNER!"

No longer will I survive an 18 wheeler running me over, as I have previously joked with my friends about my other bras. 

I'm honestly over the moon. So damn happy. And my boobs look awesome, in all of their itty-bitty glory. I'd post a picture, but I'm not sure how I feel about that. Hahaha. 

Currently in love with life. That is all. <3

Tehehehe. I love what my body does sometimes.

LOOK AT THOSE SUCKERS!

I just needed to post this because I love how delicate my upper body is becoming. Just. Saying.

Also, you'd be proud of me. I've worked out for the past 6 of eight days.

That is all. :)

Skinny body means skinny people clothes.

. . . I'm kinda liking this concept.

I've always been one of those people who said "Well, I can't wear that, because it just wasn't made for my figure." You know, those cute oversized shirts that look amazing on small figures, but like they add 15 pounds on a heavier set girl? Or those super slinky dresses that make heavier set girls feel like they've been stuffed into a sausage skin?

With this whole "body acceptance" movement that's spreading like wildfire across the internet, many people would comment on how "you've always been able to wear those clothes, because you're beautiful no matter what!" Here's the thing though. I do love my body. Regardless of that though, there are still certain clothes that are designed to flatter different figures. So many times I've wanted to wear low-cut tops that were just designed for girls with bigger boobs. And back then, it made me really upset. I just couldn't understand why designers made clothes that only fit one kind of body style. But then I realized, I just wasn't looking at the right clothes for my body.

Realizing that clothes aren't made for you has nothing to do with body acceptance, I don't think at least. I digress.

So. I don't know if I've written about this already, but I bought a bikini a few weeks ago. Something I've never done before. It's always been "Well. Ew. Who the hell wants to look at me half naked?"

Hahaha. Yeah. Guess what? I like the way I look better in my undies than with clothes on. This summer? This hard working woman is going to get out and hit as many pool sides and beaches as she can in her little zebra/animal print bikini. I still have certain parts of my body that I know I want to work on, but hey. It's only early spring. This girl's got time.

I've also gone back to working out hardcore. I've started marking off on my white board calendar the days that I've worked out, and I'm hellbent on making most of march covered in little pink x's. I feel better, significantly, than I have in the past few weeks. Shit kinda hit the fan, spun around a bit, and splattered around my life. It wasn't good. The good news? I'm working on me now. I'm working on making myself a better person and trying to move forward from everything. It can only go up from here.

That being said, my attitude towards my body has significantly improved over the last week as well. Things are still shrinking, as noted by my tape measure, and though I know I still have a ways to go, I'm happy with where things are going.

My current mission? I have a dress. A beautiful, lace crochet dress from American Eagle that I bought a few weeks ago. When I put it on, I have a little tummy roll, but it's actually not too bad. I was planning on wearing it to the Student Art Show at the end of the month and have two options: I can a) wear a shaper to get rid of the little bump and just deal with it, or b) work my ass off to get rid of it.

I'm kinda more in favor of choice b honeslty. And for the next 10 days, I'll be home. Which means no homework, nothing that I don't want to do (though I do have to paint a bit, but I enjoy that way too much), and all of the free time in the world to work out.

Guys. I feel so close. I really do. Just. A few more things. Just a little bit further. I can do this. I am doing this. 2012 is going to be my year, and there's no way I'm going to let anyone or anything stand in my way. Not even myself.

Well. Life certainly is interesting.

I really do find it quite interesting (albeit frustrating) that life can go from simple to pandemonium in a matter of a few weeks.

Once upon a time, I got sick. Things were pretty bad to start, I wasn't working out as much as I wanted to, and often felt more like I was going to die afterwards than actually feel better, so I stopped. I still kept track of my calories though.

Then, the stress of the sickness and having missed classes started to get to me. I was suddenly behind, not just a little, but somehow, extraordinarily significantly. Not to mention that the student show was just around the corner and I had work I had to do to finish my pieces. Several times I had to call into work and my internship to say that I simply couldn't make it in. Either I was sick and exhausted from not getting enough sleep, or I was overworked and still had so much left to do.

It made me feel guilty for not going to class, for not going to work, for feeling like crap and not knowing how to get myself out of it. I started losing track of my diet. Sleepless nights required more energy (this past weekend, I kid you not, I got 7 ours of sleep from Saturday to Monday - three hours on Saturday, four on Sunday, and luckily six Monday night, but only because I slept through my alarm). More energy meant more snacking, more coffee, more caffeine. I started drinking soda again by the liters, just trying to help myself stay awake in any way possible.

Stress kept piling up, and next thing I know, my sanity is on the brink of total destruction. Now, I get stressed. Everyone does. Normally, I'd like to say that I can handle stress relatively well, when it's one or two things that's going on. Relatively. Often times I have to call my mother, she has to tell me to calm down and have a square of chocolate, go work out, or basically just do something else to force that stress away from me.

Overall, six things over the past few weeks have been snowballing together. I'm behind in these classes, I'm behind on that project at work, this didn't go the way I planned it to, my credit card bill is out the roof, and I have to borrow money from my parents.

I finally had a full blown panic attack and felt that the only way to get things sorted out was to call my doctor and discuss what has been going on. His response was simple: "You're burnt out. You're overloaded and" - this was his analogy - "it's as if you're trying to run the Boston marathon, starting at a sprint." He reaffirmed what I always knew, that I set unrealistic goals for myself and in the end, end up hurting more people, and myself, than I'm helping.

Now, unfortunately, I'm in the midst of a battle with my college, as I basically have to drop out of my internship, mid-semester to relieve some of the stress I've placed on my schedule (40 hours a week plus being a full time student). And yes, it is for medical reasons. My blood pressure has actually been increasing apparently since this started. It still falls in the "normal" range for healthy, but it's definitely something my mother, my doctor and I are concerned about. I do have another one lined up, but there's complications, and I'm honestly not sure if they've ever had a student do this. One of the factors that threw me into a tailspin was the fact that my coordinator essentially told me to deal, and that this stressful situation would actually be a good learning experience for me.

. . . I beg your pardon?

If I were in any other career that was negatively impacting my physical and mental health, I honestly wouldn't stay. My two weeks notice would be in, and I'd be figuring out what I needed to do to take care of myself. This, I feel, is something they should also be preparing us for, not just our experience at the internship, but our experiences should something go wrong. I could continue to rant, but knowing that it's inappropriate and at this stage, I can't really have anything biting me in the butt, I'm gonna keep my mouth shut.

Basically, this is what I've been up to for the past few weeks, since my last update. I've gone into full-blown survival mode, and unfortunately, my health has taken a serious nose-dive. My weight is still hovering at a consistent area, which is fine by me - at least I'm not gaining weight which I know stress often makes me do.

I'm hoping, that by removing myself from 16 hours of stress (yeah, that's how much time I was dedicating to an unpaid internship), that I'll be able to get myself caught up on projects relatively quickly, and finally be able to focus on getting back on the fit-train. I just need to take a moment to figure myself out, get things talked through with a bunch of people and get my life back on track first.

I love you all, and love the support you've been able to give me since the start of my journey. I especially love those of you who already know what's been going on, and have been there with me every step of the way. Thank you, for anchoring me to reality and not letting me drift of to my horrible places. I'm getting better, I promise. <3