Today was Martin Luther King Jr Day. So the kid had a day off school, and it was my regular day off work. So we got to have a nice lazy day at home.
I managed to make myself a breakfast that my Lose It app said was only at grams of fat. And it was good!
And after I dragged myself away from TT I worked on the third drawing challenge some more. Took ages but I’m finally happy with the dragon. But the coloring part is giving me an aneurysm.
I was looking for free Procreate brushes that would help with dragon scales. But all the ones that lol like they’d work are paid. And I know I won’t use them again, so I don’t want to spend the money.
But he’s almost done so I’ve got that going for me. Which is nice.
I’ve been a bad at dieting the last few days. Went out to eat with my sister and her kids for my nephews birthday and I didn’t try to do well. I’ve also forgotten been too lazy to meal prep the last few days. I also had Dino nuggets and fries for dinner. I feel bad, like I disappointed someone. When I’ve got no one rooting for me, really.
I really just want to give up and drink me a Pepsi and eat me a couple pizza rolls.
But I’m also saving money by packing my lunch. So. I guess I’ll stick with it. Just like I’m sticking with this blogging thing.
Hopefully Cora tomorrow.
Also it’s raining so I’m expecting to get dropped on the head in my sleep
Today was Martin Luther King Jr Day. So the kid had a day off school, and it was my regular day off work. So we got to have a nice lazy day at home.
I managed to make myself a breakfast that my Lose It app said was only at grams of fat. And it was good!
And after I dragged myself away from TT I worked on the third drawing challenge some more. Took ages but I’m finally happy with the dragon. But the coloring part is giving me an aneurysm.
I was looking for free Procreate brushes that would help with dragon scales. But all the ones that lol like they’d work are paid. And I know I won’t use them again, so I don’t want to spend the money.
But he’s almost done so I’ve got that going for me. Which is nice.
I’ve been a bad at dieting the last few days. Went out to eat with my sister and her kids for my nephews birthday and I didn’t try to do well. I’ve also forgotten been too lazy to meal prep the last few days. I also had Dino nuggets and fries for dinner. I feel bad, like I disappointed someone. When I’ve got no one rooting for me, really.
I really just want to give up and drink me a Pepsi and eat me a couple pizza rolls.
But I’m also saving money by packing my lunch. So. I guess I’ll stick with it. Just like I’m sticking with this blogging thing.
Hopefully Cora tomorrow.
Also it’s raining so I’m expecting to get dropped on the head in my sleep
I’ve officially been on the Spite Diet for 17 days. Weigh-in (according to my home scale) is tomorrow. While I’d lost 6 pounds at last weigh in, I know that it’s important to weight loss to exercise.
So I decided I was going to go to the gym.
But, see, there’s a problem. I don’t like doing new things, by myself. That’s why it took me nearly a decade to pump my own gas (which was also done out of spite). Doing new things by myself gives me anxiety.
I don’t know if it’s the fear of failure, or anti-social tendencies, or what, but the idea of it was daunting.
Even at 7am, when I knew it would be hours before I would be going, I thought about it all day. This anxiety is probably the reason why I don’t ask for help a lot.
Anyway, I finally convinced myself to go by telling myself I would make a TikTok video (yes, you read that right) about the process. Going, getting out, going in, on thr treadmill, and then in the vehicle being all proud of myself.
But eventually the time came for me to clock out and change. I’d brought my gym clothes to work to change in the breakroom rest room. That’s at I didn’t have to do it at the gym.
I changed, no one mentioned my clothes, and walked to the truck. I messaged mg husband that I was going and he said, “Work up a good sweat.”
You see, once I got over the initial walking in bit, I knew that I could get on the treadmill and do what I’d came for.
But alas, it was not to be. Upon arrival I sat in my truck for a minute. I said to myself, hey, you’re an adult. You don’t need someone to hold your hand. You pump your own gas you can go into the gym.
I see there aren’t many people there, I get out, walk to the door, and ITS LOCKED. My first thought was, okay, after hours, it’s okay, three years ago you paid for a key fob to get in after hours. I run back in and… it doesn’t work. I try it over and over. It makes the beeping noises but no dice.
I am disappointed. Almost on the verge of tears.
Also a little angry. Angry because I’d had to psych myself up and got nothing but anticlimactic failure.
Eventually I decide, instead of pouting and going home, what felt like empty handed, I am going to go to a local walking trail in town and walk.
My dudes it was 36 degrees.
But I did it.
I walked one lap, about a half mile. It felt good but my nose was cold for two hours after. If it were warmer I would have walked more.
I would have spent an hour in the treadmill though.
I am going to go back, I’m going to go at regular hours, and I’m going to see about getting a replacement key fob. Because Sundays are gonna be the best days for me to go by myself. And I will go by myself.
Still, I’m a little proud of me for walking up to that door alone. And walking the track alone.
Reminded me I’m a terrible daughter by saying he’s learned not to expect phone calls from his kids.
He talked for almost half an hour.
I was yawning like crazy.
Didn’t want to miss a daily post.
Promised to call home tomorrow then remembered I had plans 🤦♀️. But I’ll still try to call him somehow. I don’t think he’s doing well, and that hurts me. Even more so because I’m bad at being a daughter.
Call your parents, if you have them. If not, call a friend. They need you even if they don’t need you.
I am not starving myself. I am not depriving myself. I eat three meals a day. I get plenty of calories and protein and all that good stuff.
I’m hungry because I want nothing more than to gorge myself on junk food. I want Taco Bell. I want a cheesy Gordita crunch and a Crunchwrap supreme with a large Pepsi. I want ice cream. I want a ten piece chicken nugget and a Big Mac. I want sweet tea.
I want cake. I want a fudge round. I want Pepsi.
I want cool ranch Doritos and Fritos with chili and cheese. I want gravy and biscuits with bacon and scrambled eggs. I want cinnamon rolls.
I want to get out my bed and go into the living room and chug vanilla almond milk straight from the carton at 10:30 at night.
I feel like it’s important to acknowledge the things that you want, whether your going to do that thing or not. So this is me acknowledging that I missing the delicious unhealthy borderline disgusting food I ate before the Spite Diet began.
No, I never ate myself into stupidity. I ate until I was satisfied. And I didn’t eat constantly. In fact, I eat the same number of times a day that I did before I just eat better. And with limits. Like serving sizes.
I think I can safely say I was not nor have I ever been addicted to food. I feel like the fact that I maintained the same weight off and on for a decade days that.
But you know something I miss that didn’t think I would ever miss? PIZZA. It’s only been two weeks and I miss pizza daggumit. A coworker brought a fresh hot and ready little Caesar’s pizza in for lunch. I stared at it. My Turkey burger was good but not want I was craving!
I’ve done really well so far. So I’m gonna keep going. And I’m going to try really hard. Like I have been doing. Even if I forgot to meal prep for tomorrow.
But I am having Taco Bell for dinner. The power bowl isn’t terrible.
I recently started a drawing challenge for myself. The first one came from whatever the first thing to pop up on a random generator was. I asked my niece to choose the second and then the third.
The third is the absolute hardest one so far. A dragon.
Now, she choose the dragon for me on this video:
Like, December 26th?
It’s at the end. You don’t have to watch. Anyway…
Of the three options I knew she’d choose the dragon, somehow. Mostly because I knew it would be the hardest one. Fun fact, I once painted my husband, back when he was still my boyfriend, a dragon for our first Christmas.
He has since informed me that it’s actually a “wyvern” not a “real dragon”. Which, by the way, rude. I’d never drawn one before, let alone painted it. So it kinda made me feel bad. But he doesn’t read my posts so doesn’t matter what I say here.
So, with this most recent dragonian adventure, I did what any sanenormal me person would do. Put it off for two weeks. Every single time I messaged or FaceTimed my sister, the niece asked, “have you started on the dragon yet?”
My answer was always no, and she’d always ask why not. I’d give various reasons but honestly?
FEAR. OF. FAILURE.
My reasons for everything.
But tonight, I decided that it would be a better waste of my time than scrolling through TikTok endlessly, to start on this dragon. And so I did. Like, four times.
At one point I even got so fed up with erasing I closed one Procreate canvas and opened a whole new one. I’ve drawn and redrawn so many parts of this dragon that there are probably twelve different breeds of dragon floating unfinished in the digital eraser dust of the universe.
I used to imagine that the things you erased lived on in another form in the eraser dust you swept off your paper carelessly. There’s a universe somewhere where all those mistakes exist.
The dragon himself is currently living tailless on the canvas. You see, I got every bit (of the initial sketch) done but the tail, because I thought, “That’s gonna be the easiest part.”
But no. The part of his body, where his torso ends and tail begins looked wrong. I stared at it so long my brain only saw deformities. So, I created a new layer, hid the part I needed to edit, and drew a new tail to see if I liked it better.
The husband agreed that it did, and I erased the original and added the new. But then that bit still needed reworking.
So I erased that too.
Because even though the only person who needs to really see the dragon is a ten year old who probably only cares about choosing the next challenge subject, and that’s the only opinion that matters, I’m still being particular about it.
Therein lies the problem. It’ll never be perfect because I’m not an artist. I’m a doodler. I have been a doodler for decades. I’m not painter, nor do I sketch or any of that stuff. I doodle. I draw silly pictures of borderline depressed stick aliens named Steve in the borders of my college notebook papers.
And yet I tell myself I can do better because it’s not good enough.
But, despite that, despite the fact I’d love to keep working on it well into the midnight hours, only because the unfinished of it is eating away at my soul even as I type this, I am leaving it. I’m not leaving forever, it will not go unfinished, nay nay. Tomorrow probably, I will work some more. Hopefully I’ll finish it then.
But then there’s the silly video too.
The lesson of the day: do not seek perfection. Perfection is a silly thing, a nonexistent entity. A thing worshiped by many, claimed by a few, and attained by none. It’s nothing to praise or long for. The only things that are perfect are a child’s laughter, a well formed flower, and the way leaves tend to spread out in a canopy of trees. And rainbows. I think rainbows are pretty perfect.
It was cold, luckily not as cold has it could be in January. The crew had been told to suit up and make the rounds around the lake to check for any weather-related issues. It had been raining a lot lately, and that could cause issues with roads. Despite Black Pine Lake being a state park, there were people who lived along the shoreline in fancy lake houses and cabin hideaways. Too much rainfall could make for dangerous conditions, especially considering the possibility of ice.
“Man, why we gotta be out before dark in twenty degrees?” Pete groaned as he threw sturdy canvas bags of supplies in the back of the truck.
“It’s because old Karen says so,” Dean said, nudging Ben a bit roughly in the back. “Right, nephew?” he teased.
Ben rolled his eyes and threw another bag in the back of the truck. “Don’t call her that,” he told them. You know that’s not her name. And I don’t want it getting back to her.” He could care less what they called her behind his back.
Carolyn Glass was his aunt, that was true. And she had gotten him the job working at the lake. She ran the park for the state. And despite the fact that they weren’t super close, mostly because she could be, well, complicated, he wanted to keep his job. Not a lot of people wanted to hire a nobody kid from nowhere.
“Ah, are you Auntie’s favorite?” Dean teased again.
“Not even slightly.” Ben said slamming the tailgate of the truck closed. “But I like a paycheck and don’t want to lose it.” He turned around to them. “I don’t care what you guys think.”
“Alright, lazy sods!” A grumbling old man with a shaggy beard hobbled into the garage from the office. Johnson was the Maintenace manager. He’d been working for the park for a half a century. “Quit your flirtin’ and get in the truck. We don’t just work for the state park system we work for hoity toity rich folks with lake houses and poor people who refuse to be bought out of their prime real estate!” He choked out a laugh with a little bit of smoker’s cough and gestured to the cab of the truck.
They all began to climb in, Johnson in the driver’s seat, as usual. When Dean tried to climb in the front, he waved him out. “Nope,” he said to Dean. “It’s Benny’s got shotgun.” Dean looked back at Johnson like he was personally offended. “Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
Ben climbed in and shut the door, looking at Johnson. He just nodded at Ben with a twinkle in his eye, laughing without smiling. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”
“Get over it, kid.” He started the engine and yelled out, “Seatbelts boys!” And before belts were buckled, he peeled out of the garage with a squealing of tires that echoed inside the garage.
The quick exist was just for show, Johnson took the curves and twists of the narrow two-lane road that encircled the lake slow and steady. Ripping out of the garage was to keep them on their toes, he once told them. The roads themselves were too dangerous to traverse without caution. And considering it was January and temperatures were often freezing or below, the risk to one’s life was too great.
While Ben hadn’t lived in Black Pine for long, he had heard tales of people having accidents at the lake. Twisting roads, drunk drivers, wild animals. It didn’t have to be cold. There are also the missing people. Once, almost twenty years ago, a teenager went missing during a party. She was presumed dead, but they never found a body. Bem remembered imaging swimming in the lake one summer and kicking up a skeleton. Honestly, he’d probably need a change of trousers and therapy after that. But it’s not like he’d tell present company anything like that.
The plan this morning was to travel the main road around the lake, search for any issues that may have occurred during the recent heavy rainfall, and clear if needed. There were a handful of rental cabins owned by the lake. The roads leading to those would be cleared completely, right up to the doorsteps if needed. The properties owned by the rich people, well, the lake personnel were only responsible for maintenance of the first fifteen feet of those drives. It wasn’t often this time of year that they’d be staying in their fancy houses. But the less fortunate souls who owned lakeside property, well, Johnson’s gruff exterior was like the candy coating on a piece of candy. He had a soft spot for the long-term residents. Mostly because he was one.
At each lane off the main road, they’d pull over to the opposite side of the road, park the truck, and grab some flashlights. Their high-powered lights were strong enough to see twenty to thirty feet in front of them, making it easy to sweep the area for any issues. Most of the roads were high enough and situated well enough to prevent high water from washing them out, and root systems from old growth trees all over the park held the ground firm like rebar in concrete. In most cases.
All of the roads, to private property and rentals alike, that they’d inspected thus far seemed fine. But when they hopped back in the truck they all assumed they would head directly to the opposite side of the lake and check there. However, Johnson stopped at the restricted area.
The restricted area of Black Pine Lake was an old access road that had been closed off a few decades before. There used to be an old mansion up there, right on the side of Black Pine Mountain, or so the stories said. Apparently, or at least what the rumors Ben had heard around the garage said, some kids went up there one summer. It had rained for weeks, and it had finally stopped so the lake was busy with people. These kids got bored with the overcrowding at the beach and went exploring. There was a series of mudslides and one or two didn’t make it out alive. State officials cut off access to the area to authorized employees only. Johnson was authorized.
“There ain’t nobody up there,” Dean grumbled from the back seat. He still sounded a little pouty to Ben.
“I don’t care if Grizzly Adams was holding a shot gun up to my chin,” Johnson said, glaring at Dean in the rearview mirror. “We’re checking it. I don’t make the rules, I abide by them.” He turned fully around to look him in the eye. “Now grab your light and get out of the truck or you’ll walk back to the garage.”
He’d said it with such an even tone that Ben was so impressed he had to get out of the truck to keep from laughing. They were parked on the side of the road opposite the restricted area. This side of the road was looking toward the lake, with trees partially obscuring the view. Ben could see the sun was beginning to rise, and the changing colors of the sky were beginning to reflect on the lake’s surface. This was one of the many reasons why he liked his job.
The area they were headed to was normally blocked off by a heavy chain fastened to large fence posts on either side of the narrow ten-foot-wide road. A metal sign was meant to hang from the chain reading “Restricted Area, Authorized Personnel Only.” There were, in fact, additional signs in either direction warning that it was a slide area and to use extreme caution in inclement weather. But when they reached the mouth of the road, the chain and sign were gone.
Johnson walked toward the fence post on the right side of the road and inspected it. “Looks like the eye hook the chain was attached to was ripped right out of the post.” he touched the pole where it had been, where a gaping hole was left, splinters sticking out around it. Ben stood next to him and searched the ground. Further in, he saw it.
“There it is,” Ben said, walking up to what he saw in the mud. It had been run over, by something with big tires, as you could see the tracks. He swiped at it with the toe of his boot, revealing the bent and muddied sign.
“I ain’t going up there,” Dean said. As if he’d even made it to the fence posts yet.
“It’s not like were going hiking,” Pete said.
“I don’t care, somebody is up there and they’re up to no good.”
Ben ignored all of this and kept walking, flashlight in hand. He followed the tire tracks that seemed to only go in and none came out. He tried not to walk on them, as if he would disturb some sacred land. As he advanced, he heard less grumbling from the rest of the group.
He stopped in his tracks when he saw something.
“If you’re not going to do anything besides grumble, get back in the truck!” Johnson shouted. A few minutes later, he and Pete approached Ben. “What in God’s name?” Johnson exclaimed.
Ben walked forward, still cautious, and reached a gloved hand out. He wiped mud away from the cold metal surface. Beneath the mud, and gleaming in the beam of three flashlights, was a silver frog sticker under a ram’s head emblem.
“Where’ve I seen that before?” Pete asked himself outloud.
“I don’t know if you’ve seen it,” Ben said, turning around to face the men. “But you’ve probably heard about it.”
“Holy Hell,” Mumbled Johnson. “We’ve gotta go, boys, we gotta go now.” He turned and started limping his old legs back the way they’d come.
“Why boss?” Pete panted as he pulled his large body after Ben and Johnson.
“That’s that missing Wilkins lady’s truck, Pete!” Ben said. “We gotta call the police!”
They got back to the truck and Johnson pulled rank. “Dean, you stay here and keep an eye on that road.”
“What?! Why?! Why me?!” Dean grumbled.
“‘Cause you didn’t want to go in the first place, and it’s in emergency.” He climbed in the truck and slammed his door. “That and I’ll fire you if you don’t. I’ve been itching for a good reason.”
It took the men quite some time to reach the garage once more, took a few minutes to get the call to go through on the old phone line. But eventually they got through to the Black Pine Sheriff’s Office. Within the hour the restricted area was less restricted and crawling with people with badges. Johnson would liken it to the slide that caused the area to be roped off from the public so many years ago. Luckily, you might say, the ambulance that was brough in would not be needed this time. There was no body, alive or dead, to be found.
I didn’t realize how long I’ve been on my self-imposed diet plan. And honestly I’d weighed myself a few days ago, and I didn’t like it. Mostly because it said I’d gained ten pounds. And I knew better.
I ended up asking my husband to look at the number on the scale. I use an analog scale, the one with the hand that moves. I stopped using digital scales because I never got an accurate measurement twice in a row.
When you move around it changes, so between leaning over to see past my gut, and trying to fit my big feet on the thing perfectly, I was getting highly inaccurate numbers. So when the hubs came and looked I lost six pounds.
I will freely admit I was a little emotional. I didn’t expect any change, least of all a loss! But here we are, six pounds down.
So here’s what I’ve been doing, if you wanna know.
Cut down on pop (soda if your weird): Pepsi is my addiction. But I went a full week without one. Had one one day, skipped it the next, then caved and had another. But I’m gonna try harder this time. *eye roll*
Portion Control: my normal intake is multiple servings of whatever food we’re having. But I’ve stuck to serving sizes and single helpings. My mother in law likes to cook. She grew up in a time when a full plate was healthy food. But a half a pound of baked ham, two cups of corn, and two rolls isn’t healthy that’s over eating.
Counting calories and limiting carbs: I love carbs. Carbs are my favorite meal. If I go to prison my last meal is gonna be pasta and bread and potatoes. But I know too much isn’t good for me. And there are more calories in foods than you think.
Protein Shakes: the things are expensive, and I guess they’re supposed to help you feel full longer? I don’t really notice a difference for me, but I’m trying to up my healthy protein intake.
Meal prep: when you’re at work and hungry, you’ll get whatever sounds good. And I work at a retail store than has a decent sized non-refrigerated food section. And everything sounds good. If I meal prep my reasonably healthy food at home, I have lunch ready for the next day. I also save money.
Lots of water: duh. Most people don’t drink enough water, and it can be hard working it into your daily life. I carry a large link 80oz jug to work, and challenge myself to drink as much as I can by the end of the day.
Intermittent fasting: I try to only eat during a certain twelve hour window. It’s really not that hard. I usually have my last meal of the day eaten before 7:30pm. My fast usually starts at 8pm, and goes until 8am. But when I’m working I don’t usually get to eat until 8:30-9:00am. It works because I don’t start getting really hungry until about then anyway.
The Lose It App: I’ve managed to log my meals for twelve days. That’s the longest I’ve managed to keep up with it. and the app tracks how many calories and carbs, how much fiber, and protein I intake. As well as how many calories I burn thanks to my phone and Apple Watch. I can track my water intake as well. I can also create a recipe in the app with measurements, tell it how many servings, and it’ll calculate the macronutrients and such. I will definitely renew the app in March.
Goals
The initial point of this whole thing was to see how much I can lose my March 29th (78 days). No actual goal was in mind while starting this mission.
But now I’ve set a checkpoint. I want to get down to 300 pounds. I’ve not given myself a timeline, Low expectations make for minimal disappointment if a failure occurs. For me, anything lost is a win. Maintaining that loss would be even better. So if I weigh myself again in seven days, and I’m still 310, that’s ok.
I am going to try and overcome my social anxiety and go to the gym. I need to add too my calorie deficit in order to lose more. But, I a scurt.
“In the early morning hours of January 15, maintenance employees of Black Pine Lake Park, during a routine check, discovered what appeared to be the rear end of a truck protruding from mud on an old unused maintenance road.
The truck was located in an area along the lake shore that has been restricted to “personnel only” access for several years due to the possibility of mudslides.
Maintenance employees who discovered the vehicle contacted authorities roughly fifteen minutes after discovery, as that area of the lake is not conducive to cellular service. When authorities arrived, the maintenance workers led them to the scene.
Upon arrival to the scene, officers observed the truck did appear to have been there for several days, possibly longer. They carefully removed mud covering the license plate and confirmed the vehicle was one 2012 Dodge Ram registered to Cora Wilkins.
Additional resources and third parties with expertise in the field were brought in. Based on their findings, the vehicle was first buried in one mudslide. A second mudslide occurred at a later date and covered the truck once more.
Once this was determined crew began meticulously removing mud to expose the interior of the vehicle. This revealed several clues.
The first slide is estimated to have occurred around January third or fourth. Weather reports show that heavy rain beginning midday January third had continued four days afterward. Continuous rain and thawing top soil led to perfect conditions for a mudslide. The truck was partially buried initially during that period.
At that time the person or persons who had driven the vehicle had exited it. Both driver’s and front passenger doors were open. Inside the vehicle was a number of items identified as belonging to Cora Wilkins. These included keys, both her personal and work cellphones and a large pink water bottle it’s said she carried with her to work.
The recovered personal cellphone also had an attached wallet which still contained Mrs Wilkins’ drivers license and debit card.
It is important to note that no evidence of injuries or distress were discovered, nor were there any remains. Cora Wilkins therefore is still considered a missing person.
It is theorized that at some point after the first mudslide, Cora Wilkins and a possible second individual exited the vehicle leaving behind personal belongings and the doors open. The second slide occurred hours or days later.
Tracks or footprints from any one individual have not been found. Mud from the slide has obscured anything that might have been left near the vehicle and there was no muddy trail leading away from the truck on the pavement of the main road.
We are still operating and investigating this as a missing persons case, as there is still no evidence to the contrary. It is important to note that we are one day shy of two weeks into the investigation. The trail of clues we are following in order to find answers in the case grow colder by the day.
We’d like to ask the public once again for any information you maybe have that might set us in the right direction or lead us to Mrs Wilkins. The both the Black Pines Police Department non-emergency line and the anonymous tip line are twenty-four hour lines and will be open at all times.
In the meantime, keep the family of Mrs Wilkins in your thoughts and please respect their privacy at this difficult time. This is a small community, and we should treat each other as such.
Crash Landing 