Broken Bella Donna

{May 21, 2017}   Ugh

The undulating beast in my brain is at it again, who knows what has inspired it tonight.

My life is a constant swoosh swoosh of things at present. I keep trying to reduce my responsibilities and stop filling my days with items to tick off, but as soon as I remove one I add two.

I know what I’m doing… I’m filling the space in my head which remains empty of all the things society says I SHOULD have at this point in my life. And I don’t have them. So instead I cram my life full to the brim so that I just don’t have time to think.

I am so massively over involved in yet another charity project at the present. This one I am in at a very grass roots level, and we’re doing good things. But it can be so exhausting, and so ongoing. And I’m putting my neck out to get my head chopped off again, only the person I’m working alongside takes things more personally than me, so instead of getting annoyed I find myself placating her instead…. a nice turn of events for me.

I have changed a lot, yet again, in the last year.

I am trying to get into mindfulness. Which is ironic given that I’m packing my days full at the moment. I am trying to practice just being… instead of constantly doing. I want to learn yoga, and practice mindfulness, and stop being… so me?

A major part of my life will be ending soon in all likelihood. A major part of my days, and to a lesser degree my identity will pass, and take with it a good portion of my income. On top of losing some small parts of my income, it’s about to become time I stopped wasting money and started working harder on earning it, and making sure I save it. I’m tighter than a fishes arsehole with money so that part wont be hard, but finding paid work around here is never easy.

My #1 boy is most definitely in his twilight now. It makes me sick to my stomach to think about it, so I wont.

Life is just… wash rinse repeat. I’m doing a lot of good but feel like I’m contributing nothing. In spite of this fact I don’t FEEL bad. I just feel tired.

On an interesting note I have a few people in my life at the present who want to be closer to me, as good friends, they want to involve me in things and ask my opinion and be my buddy. And I really like them but for some reason I’m putting up this massive wall. The more they want to be super chummy with me the less I want them to. It is pissing me off because I really like them… and they’re not being overly needy… but there’s just something there stopping me. I don’t know if I’m throwing up barriers because I’ve been hurt in the past by being too involved in someone who has thrown it in my face (PP anybody?) or I feel like they’re pressuring me to develop past my spazz attacks (which I need to do in my own time) or both or neither of these things.

I used to be able to be friends with people and now? I just… don’t care. There’s too much pressure. Don’t buy me presents and want to socialise and say you’ll come see me. I’m not your project. I’m not much of a person and you’ll just be let down so just let me be my weird self, enjoy me from the sidelines and don’t ask much of me.

The older I get the more I get like all those fringe dwelling people that everyone knows but very few people *know*.

And that suits me just fine.

{April 19, 2017}   Protected: Hmm

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{February 18, 2017}   Dreams.

The sheep do not want the dog around. He looks too much like the wolf. He reminds them that danger lurks out there, just beyond the relative safety of the fence. The wolf also hates the dog. He knows that it is the dog that stands between him and his prey. It is because of the dog that he is lean. The dog is the reason the wolf is forced to stalk the darkness. The dog knows these facts. Undeterred, he stands watch, ever ready to do battle. Despite that he is an unwelcome guest in the mists, the dog is ready, at a moment’s notice, to give his life in defense of the flock. It is simply who he is.

I had the strangest dream this morning.

In it, you told me you were getting a puppy, now that you were moving interstate.

But the way you said this was with deep simmering emotion, like it broke your heart to tell me.

And in that sentence it felt exactly like all of our conversations have felt, the deep and meaningful ones, the conversations held at 4am. The conversations that never should have been held.

The catch? None of those real life conversations were ever held face to face. And yet somehow my subconscious knows exactly what you look and sound like. Your mannerisms, your expression, your tone, your delivery. All the things I’ve never seen nor heard and yet I know them all.

From another time, perhaps.

All this triggered by you vaguebooking. Prick. You’re getting the result you wanted and I’ll never tell.

{January 26, 2017}  

Sometimes, quite out of the blue I am struck by the most intense longing to see you. Tonight, right now is one of those times.

Such a need. I want to see you… to just spend time. Watch you. Hear your voice. Touch you – not sexually but just to feel that human contact. Just to make that connection with you so that I know that you’re still there. That we’re still here. That regardless of everything that has happened, is happening and will happen that we are still us.

Missing you isn’t even something I feel anymore – it just is. It’s a permanent thing in my life now. I don’t notice anymore, not because it isn’t there but because it isn’t ever not there. I realise now that you’re not the first person that I feel this way about. You’re probably the second, and the first I haven’t seen for fifteen years now.

Missing you in my life is like a dull ache that you don’t even notice anymore, except for those brief interludes in life where it’s gone and you realise how much happier and better you feel. Which is great – for a short time – until the pain is back and your attention is once again bought to it, and you remember.

We will never know where this could’ve gone. We will never understand the extent of everything, because we can’t communicate with each other- not fully. I feel like we can’t, because if we tried to, and we did… everything would implode. There will always be those things left unsaid.

I said one of those things recently. I genuinely felt like you already knew. You genuinely expressed that you did not. I would love to know how this news has changed you, what you think, how you think. But I suspect I’ll never know.

Perhaps you’ll never talk to me again and then I’ll have an idea.

Six years. In those six years we’ve covered the whole gamut, haven’t we. We’ve met, we’ve been associates. We’ve gotten to know each other and flirted shamelessly, without concern – as friends. We both tumbled down the rabbit hole and collapsed down the bottom – first you, then I followed. Only one of us got up and dusted ourselves off, the other lay broken.

Tonight I feel a little heart sore, thinking about you. Missing what we had.

{January 12, 2017}   Protected: the usual PW

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{December 31, 2016}   New Years Eve

I normally haaaate new years. With a firey passion. It usually flares up my spazz attacks because I feel an enormous loss of control at this time of year – today is literally a marking point in the year that says YOU CANNOT AVOID THIS. LIFE IS MOVING FORWARD AND YOU HAVE NO CONTROL OVER THAT.

I also hate how it forces reflection over the year that has passed and really shoves into my face all the things that have not changed, all the things that never happened, and how much my life is in the same crappy rut that it started the year in.

For some reason this year I don’t feel that negativity. I don’t feel like I’ve got nothing to show for it, that my life has plateaued (god that’s a complicated word to spell) and that everything is in a free fall towards disastrous hell and there’s naught I can do about it.

And I have no idea why?

I’m trying not to think about it too much, lest I realise there’s no reason and provoke myself into feeling shitty. But honestly, today is just another day and tomorrow will be too.

So my 2016? Well I’ve managed to end it with both of the older, health-clouded ones in my life still here and both doing ok in spite of things. So that’s a big plus. My own health is good, and I feel like I’m really starting to extend myself now out of my comfort zone and taking small (but increasingly larger) steps away from spazz city and back into society.

I’ve been steadily forcing myself into broadening my horizons this year and wrestling some control back from… the control. I’ve been trying to make myself less fussy, less of a perfectionist. I’ve been learning the beauty in mistakes (but not flat out failure yet) and deliberately attempting things that I don’t already know to make myself both learn something new AND risk not doing well. This has primarily been in my studies, taking courses that I know I’ll find hard, that I know is a risk of failure. And it has really opened my eyes to new things and I’ve enjoyed it a lot. It’s definitely something I’m going to continue to do into 2017 and I honestly feel like that’s been a big part of my mental improvement.

I also realised this year that PP is gone from my life. I know I’ve said that before and struggled afterwards with the concept but this year… I don’t know. The last convo (which was what, eight months ago? I don’t even remember which says a lot. A quick scan backwards of this blog tells me yes, eight months ago) seemed more final and his behaviour and treatment of me in the lapse between now and then has just pissed me off for the final time. Honestly, I finally feel like I’ve moved on. Now I bitterly miss what we HAD not who he IS.

I had another crack at improving my health with exercise in 2016 and it’s been a bit of a fizzer. But I learned some new things and will use them next time – never quit. I’ll get there and be a fit person eventually but not today, ha ha!

Sadly no progress (almost literally) with MBP which seems to have somewhat massively gone on the back burner.

I’m not one for new years resolutions… but this year I have made one. I will use my diary. I used to be enormously anal about writing down dates and reminders for EVERYTHING and I was the most organised person in the southern hemisphere. As of tomorrow I am going to be that person again – I want to feel like I am on top of my life a bit more, instead of forgetting things, chasing my tail and being unsure. I don’t want sneaky due dates and birthdays creeping up on me, so I’m forced to try and catch up in double time. I want to have more free time and less shit-crap-ohmygod-gotta-do-that-yesterday moments.

Time for my thankful list.

  • ongoing health of those around me and myself
  • a mild summer preventing bigger issues
  • a comfortable financial position
  • successfully getting through the holiday season without any spazz attacks or even the hint of one!
  • wrestling back control of my emotions
  • learning new skills and unearthing myself again
  • baking
  • fresh produce from the garden
  • becoming comfortable in my own skin
  • friends who build you up, not break you down
  • breathing.

{December 7, 2016}   Feeling strange

I’m feeling very… off tonight. Flat. Quiet. Mildly confused and a little bit needy.

I don’t know if it’s because tomorrow is court day for the murderous arsehole who took my friends life, tho I don’t think he’s doing anything other than pleading. I don’t know if it’s because last night I watched a tv show with a guy who reminded me significantly of PP. I don’t know if it’s because PP was then in my dream this morning – and not in a saucy way.

But I just am. Too much thinking about people in the past.

I’ve spent some time in the last month or so thinking about what we leave behind. I’ve learned some things about my friend that I did not know and at first they upset me, or made me mad… but they also made me realise that we are all in the same boat. None of us really know each other – there’s not one person in the world who knows everything about you. Not one person who knows everything of your past, everything in your present, and all the things you want in your future. You’re always going to learn a lot about people after they die… because those around them become more comfortable talking about them after they’re gone. Everyone wants to hold onto the memory for a little longer, so they tell stories to keep their loved ones alive. And sometimes some of what comes out will make you question if you really knew them at all. And sometimes stuff comes out that they’ve been deliberately hiding from you, for varying reasons.

(The song that PP told me reminds me of him just came on the tv. Coinkydink?)

It made me think… if I died tomorrow what would people learn about me that would surprise them? Some would be surprised to learn of my battle with spazz attacks. Some would be surprised that I collect childrens toys, or have been studying at uni, what I do for a living. But mostly they’d be surprised about the variety and depth of the relationships I have online… specifically with PP.

That is the main thing people would be surprised by.

{October 21, 2016}   Well then.

Hello you. I know you’re there, somewhere, I can feel you. I’m sitting here less then a week after your passing, and I’ve been so knocked around since then that I’m now ill. And yet I sit here with this warm, encompassing feeling, my scalp tingling, my eyes half closed and I feel… held. Nursed. Encompassed.

(Passing is such a quaint word to use when someone was murdered in cold blood, isn’t it?)

I miss you, altogether a lot more than I anticipated. I should’ve known I would when you moved out of town and I missed you then, even tho we didn’t catch up often apparently just knowing you were there was enough. And now you’re not there – you’re not anywhere. You’re gone.

And you take with you all the future memories to make, all the conversations, all of the text messages, all of the chances to get to know you better. You take with you all the potential and what ifs. You take with you all of the secrets and things people never got around to saying. It’s all gone, just like that.

My blood ran cold when I read the news. I knew it couldn’t have been anyone else. But why did it have to be you? Of all the people I’ve met in my life, very few were as gentle, as harmless as you. Everything you’ve worked for, everything you’ve done, all you’ve represented and protected was snuffed out in a second, and so violently. And so, so unnecessarily.

I can only pray to a God neither of us believe in that you didn’t know it was coming, and that it was mercifully quick.

I will remember you for your easy laugh and your irrepressible flirtatious nature.

I’ll remember your text message you sent me the night before you left.

I’ll remember the last time we were out in public together, and you told me I looked gorgeous and was giving you inappropriate thoughts (with all due respect to you I did look pretty good).You followed me around like a puppy all day and I’m pretty sure everyone there thought we were either dating, or that you were angling for a relationship. In hindsight, maybe you were. Or maybe it was just the legs.

I’ll remember down at the lake, when we would go for walks and discuss life and after I told you all about the most serious thing that had happened to me in my life, you offered to rub dirt on my coat so my mother would think we had been rolling around  on the ground. (In other words I’ll remember how much of a shit stirrer you were.)

I’ll remember every time we caught up over Summer, you’d always try and get me to stand in the shade because of my fair skin, you didn’t want to see me get burnt.

I’ll remember sitting on my veranda and you trying to swat a fly that was hanging around me, and you put your hand on my leg to lean past me. And it was as clear as water that you weren’t even trying to get the damn fly, you flirty shit.

I’ll remember you having a tear when I showed you a photo of the kitten you rescued. Of you veering off mid conversation to look at lambs. Of how unashamed you were to tell me that you cried your head off when you had your dog put down. Of how much you loved animals.

I’ll remember our shared love of quirky old crap. And I’ll forever value the quirky old crap you gave me.

I’ll remember walking up to the water supply with you in the stinking heat, both of us about to fall over in exhaustion and neither willing to admit it because you didn’t want to look weak in front of me and I didn’t want to look weak in front of you.

I’ll remember how your blind and deaf dog couldn’t see nor hear anyone else in the damn world but if I walked past she barked at me, every single time. What did she know or think?

I’ll remember the first time you came up to our house, dressed up nicely and wearing aftershave and you blurted out “I didn’t know there would be so many chicks here!” when you found three of us at home. I’m not entirely sure what you were expecting, but it’s pretty clear you were keen to impress from the start.

I’ll remember how you were a gentle soul but willing to defend those important to you from anything and anyone.

I’ll remember how you told me my family were like family to you, how we were the only people you voluntarily saw around here. I always felt valued and important to you. I hope you felt valued and important to me too.

I’ll remember that without fail, I always felt like you accepted me, and everything about me. You never questioned things about me that others did, you never asked why I made the decisions that I made. You never judged a damn thing, you were happy to take me at face value, no questions asked. You were easy to be around and came with no pressure or expectations (other than the ones I put upon myself).

It’s easy to remember only the positives when someone dies, and to put on rose coloured glasses. So for the record I’ll also remember when I felt intimidated by your manliness, when you told me I was looking ‘sturdy’ these days, when you were politically incorrect, when you admitted to me you did stuff I didn’t agree with morally,  and when you took a joke too far.

I have a million more memories, most have escaped me at this moment but I hope they all float back one by one. You were unique, crazy, strange, very much a star shaped piece in a world designed to only fit beige circles. I knew you resented Christmas for its religious connotations but i found out today you’d been donating the money people would usually spend on presents to an orphanage. Since you were in your late teens. What sort of teen looks outside their own immediate circle to consider others like that? One that understands the bigger picture and isn’t afraid to step outside of the comfy little box built by society, that you’re told to stand in and behave.

There’s so many things like that, so many small aspects of your life that I’ll never know because you’ll never get to tell me. Because you’re gone.

You were stolen away from the world by a selfish, disgusting thing (I wouldn’t even call them a human, although to be called human would’ve been something you’d have considered an insult so it would be apt) who would be 10% of the person you were, but thought they had the right to take your life. Someone who proved beyond any doubt that the disdain you felt for most of society was correct. Someone who proved that your desire to just leave society and live off the land with as few connections as possible was the right one… your desire to sail away and be alone was strong and apparently appropriate. Because at least then you’d be alive. You finally got out to your block of land in the middle of nowhere with nothing but rates to pay to the council, you finally got away from this shitty little down which was still too big… for nothing. I wish you’d stayed here.

I’m still so… unsure of where I am. I know I’ve accepted you’re gone but it’s hard, because we caught up so erratically it’s easy for my brain to just assume that somewhere in the next few months I’ll see you again. Because that’s how we rolled. It still feels surreal and like it’s a strange story I read. I can talk about you now without it hurting but sometimes I still burst into tears. Those are the real moments that I think I’m truly understanding the gravity of the situation.

Next time I see something that reminds me of you, or I acquire another random piece of crap and I want to tell you about it… is when I think it’s going to really strike home. I don’t look forward to that day.

It’s going to be hard coming to terms that someone I knew I could rely on when the going got tough has gone. Someone I meant enough to that they would defend me. Someone I might’ve meant something to, whatever the level. Someone where there was a strange potential connection with… one that I knew would never eventuate, but it was nice to know it was there.

Vale, Mountain Man. We will meet again. I’m relying on it.

{August 27, 2016}   sigh.

Do you remember all of it? I do.

I remember stroking your thigh with the backs of my fingers when I was patting the little one. I remember you placing your hand on my back when I leaned across you to look at your camera that last night. I remember the way your arm felt so perfect around my shoulders on the night that both started it all and yet was the start of the end. How it felt like it had always been there, like we were just waiting time until it found its way back, returning home. I remember how you cupped my hands in yours to warm them around your mug. How you looked at me that time I showed you the bend in my nose. How we stared into each others eyes that dawn on the driveway, and we both knew we were on the cusp of something dangerous, exciting, beautiful and forbidden but so right, so perfect, so real.

I remember every touch, every conversation, every feeling. I remember you. I remember us. No matter how long ago, no matter how much we don’t speak, no matter the distance you put between us with your words, with my behaviour, with your callousness, with this pretence. It’s there. It’s always there. It will always be there. I did not imagine it, you cannot pretend. It’s easy for you to pretend but your actions give you away.

I miss you. I miss us. Occasionally, like tonight these feelings of loss rear up and annihilate me. They tear my soul to shreds. I am left incapable of defiance; I am vulnerable to attack. My guards are not down, they are gone. Dead. Dried up and discarded in the bitter cold wind that blows through my life without you in it. It feels worthless and like nothing, less valuable than soil. My soul is soil, infertile and barren. I will not feel this way in the morning and I know that the brief crying jag I just had will make me feel better. But tonight I will think about your touch, your thoughts, you feelings, your vulnerability, how you let me in to that damaged, shy, lovely part of you. How you let me see you. How we let each other pick over the decay that is our souls, the rot that is our roots, how we allowed ourselves to open up so entirely that the relationship became so… co-dependent. Damaged, incompatible with life. Like nothing so beautiful in its raw ugliness could ever be sustained for long. And you keep roaming back into my life to fuck me up once a year or so, when the feelings within you get too much to bear and you can’t take it one second longer, you can’t bear not to talk to me and spill the scourge that is your true feelings. And then you leave, and leave me to sort through the rubble that is both your emotions and mine whilst you casually go back. Casually. Casualty. You the former, me the latter. And I kneel, sorting through the rubble, stirring the mess and sifting through to identify what I can keep and what needs to be discarded. What I can bring myself to throw away. And then I throw myself away. To the wind. And the winds blow and gently, slowly pour the pieces back together and I build myself again, sometimes from the ground up, sometimes from the top down, always meeting in the middle last. Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly.

I do wish you weren’t so good at acting like I’m worth nothing.

That is what a former friend once wrote in a Christmas card to me. I was entirely unsure at the time if that was a good or a bad thing, and I’m still not sure.

My life continues to take strange turns. Esp regarding my ‘love life’ for lack of better words. Why this is, I’m unsure… in the past I’ve bought on a lot of that complication myself by going out and seeking interest from men, mistaking their interest in me as some sort of justification, some sort of proof that I really am someone worth something. As a more mature version of myself now I understand better that this isn’t true – the number of men that find me attractive, the number of friends I get cards from on my birthday, the number of people who ‘approve’ of me… doesn’t really mean much. I no longer count likes. I try not to attention seek. Sometimes I fail and sometimes I still judge my worth on this frivolous shit but… not often nowadays.

Today I understand that the number of men that find me attractive isn’t relevant – it’s nice to know that I’m cute or whatever but it doesn’t change anything. The number of likes I get on photos is fun but I don’t post photos for others. There’s only a very small number of people in my life that I care enough about to worry about their opinion, and well… that’s fairly well documented on here, isn’t it?


Have not spoken to PP since that night, not really. I thought he was on for a talk the other night, apparently had some time to himself but chose to watch a b grade movie instead of talk to me. Which indicates to me that at this point of time, our friendship is irrelevant to him – he has purged himself, he has reminded himself that I am still here and he has been sated. He has had his fill and off he goes.

And yet I put up with that shit.

In the last few weeks it has come to light that my very handsy ex, the one who has repeatedly pursued me before and all throughout his marriage has separated from his wife. Amicably. The ex that was always touching me, telling me he just ‘wanted to feel a real woman’, messaging me, telling me his wife ‘didn’t need to know’ and trying to engage me in a relationship… is now free to do it all without the shackles of a wife to hold him back. I’m wary and watching with interest – this can only do bad things to my spazz attacks. He dropped in to tell us personally, as a family as we are family friends. He was almost nervous about it, jumped out of his car and left it running so he could make a quick get away but ended up staying for a coffee and a chat. I don’t know what to make of that. Did he think he’d get quizzed, or that the reception would be bad? I don’t know.

I would like very much to have him back as a friend – we weren’t really able to maintain much of a friendship during his marriage due to his wifes dislike of me, which is understandable and I never held that against her, given how he behaved. Once she realised that it was one sided and that I didn’t encourage nor allow it, she warmed to me a bit but we’ve never exactly been friends. I quite like him as a friend, he’s a great guy. Funny, very charming, sweet and he cares for me quite a lot. But I don’t feel like he can just be friends without carrying on, in hopes of getting me back. I’m not so vain as to think that he wants me that badly – I think he just wants to get laid. And as he tries harder I’m going to act colder and he’ll end up frustrated and he’ll walk. I can foresee it happening.

The bit that has sat as strange in my head? I can’t stop thinking about him. Literally nothing has changed really, his single-ness affects nothing considering that A) I don’t want a relationship with him and B) he was hitting on me even when he WAS married… but for some reason he’s back in my head, pottering around. I keep thinking about him, remembering stuff, wondering. I assume it’s because I’m thinking about how this news may start up old stuff, may stir things up again now that he could (if he wanted to, which he probably doesn’t) have a go again… but as I said. He was carrying on whilst married. So what gives, brain? Why are  you thinking about him again?



One more anyway.

I don’t think I’ve blogged about the third guy. He is new to this blog but not to me. I don’t even know how long I’ve known him, only that it’s been somewhere around 13 years (tho he says 15, it literally can’t be because I haven’t lived here for 15 years yet). He’s never hid the fact he fancies me a bit but it’s always been in good fun, just the odd comment here and there, stirring up my mum mostly. I’ve always had the feeling that he’d like to go there but only a shag, nothing more intense, just no strings attached action. In fact in the entire time I’ve known him we literally catch up like once or twice a year, just if we stumble across each other, and just chat for a bit and move on. The running joke has always been ‘see you next year’.

Until the last couple of years. Recently he’d started popping up under strange guises, small excuses. I was seeing a lot more of him. His behaviour had changed slightly and he was making more comments. He seemed to need to engage with people more – he’s always been a very solitary person, almost intimidated by the idea of peopling. Then he saw me in a dress and the comments. So many comments. I don’t even remember them now in spite of the fact it was only a few months ago, but suffice to say he was tickled pink at the fact he’d seen me in a dress and declared that I looked ‘gorgeous’ and that I was ‘giving him ideas’. He is very forthcoming with the compliments, always has been.

Then he ended up with my mobile number and at first it was “I think about you all the time, have done for years” in reply to me thanking him for thinking of me when he offered me something he had… And today he moved out of town and sent a very touching message to me. He said “Thank you for being a wonderful fantasy in my life for 15 years? I feel I’m in decline now and you are still so youthful and beautiful. I love your sense of humour and views. Every twist and turn in our lives sets a different course and I do wonder how things could have been?”

Like… what? How do you even reply to that? Why oh why send a message like that when you’re leaving the area? He’s about 11 years my senior and has obviously had more feelings than I gave him credit for. I replied something about it being very full on for a Friday night and that I didn’t know how to reply, but that I was sure we’d catch up again and thanked him for being a fellow square peg in a round hole. He messaged me again today to tell me he was ‘home’ in his new place and that it had been a long day.

The worst part is… had we met earlier than what we did, perhaps things could have been different? Maybe he’s right. We’re very different but very similar in ways – one of the ways we’re very similar is that we’re both rigid and inflexible. And damn weird. We both need someone to counteract the weird I think. Also, I think I miss sharing a town with him, which is strange given how erratically we caught up. But it feels odd to know that he isn’t here anymore.

Well. That sums up all the strangeness that is my head at present… not really thinking much about the man who I last gave my heart to but thinking a lot about two men who have treated me a lot nicer than he does.

I think I’m overdue a list!

  • progressing thru my studies for the year, and feeling confident about my foray into higher studies
  • the fact that at the moment, no one is doing horribly in the health department
  • the potential of developing another small but enjoyable career path
  • the ongoing success of my march to better health by making small changes
  • the good side affect of my better health march – I’ve lost a few kg and most of my cellulite (what little I had)
  • small progress on MBP – it’s still progress!


et cetera