People called her a Changeling, and she didn’t argue with
them. But they were wrong. She was Blessed. She woke up to flower crowns left
in her room, little gifts here and there. She didn’t wear protections and she
ignored all the warnings from her fellow pupils.
After her third roommate in two months the university had
decided maybe it would be best for Arriane to be on her own. It was just less stressful
for everyone if she decided to continue to tempt fate.
What they didn’t know or understand was that she had grown
up in Meadow. A village you would find on no maps. A faery village inhabited by
humans. Humans who lived alongside the fae with no fear or backlash. It was a
peaceful kind of life. The humans were free to do as they wish, and the faeries
didn’t treat them like pets, animals, prisoners. People weren’t stolen away for
entertainment. They were hired and treat as they should be. It was incredibly
civilised and nothing like the system that Elsewhere had formed, but Arriane
was still fearless of the fae. They knew she was favoured by others and she was
In Meadow humans joined the faeries in celebrations, dancing
(sometimes naked) through the night. Drinking Faerie wine and eating fae foods
with no repercussions. And the fae, the cunning and cruel creatures of
Elsewhere nightmares, celebrated the human holidays with them. They
particularly loved Christmas, dressing up as Elves and entertaining the younger
It was their wish that Arriane attend Elsewhere, of course
it was her choice and she was free to attend any university she saw fit. But
why would she? Elsewhere was perfect for her.
So she wore the flower crowns they left, and when she
visited Meadow during the holidays she brought gifts back for the Elsewhere
fae. Little crafted trinkets and uncommon faerie foods and drink. Little bits
here and there. Little acts of kindness. She didn’t wear protection. Didn’t carry iron, or salt or anything that would hurt the Faeries. And they didn’t take her.
She wasn’t a Changeling. She was just Blessed. The other
students just didn’t understand.
I decided to update my Mayor’s outfit, all ready for the snowy storm tomorrow! I found lots of lovely duffle coats designs, and lots of nice jumpers with scarfs.. but none that had both, so I made my own and I love how it turned out! ( ﾉ^ω^)ﾉﾟ It matches really cutely with the blue pompom hat too c’:
I wanted to put up the QR code for it so other people to be able to wear it too! I’ve never put up a design of my own before so it’s kinda exciting!
More colours can be found HERE by the way! (｡･ω･｡)
I wish you would write a fic where Katniss and Peeta are both single parents
Ahhh this took me forever, but I’m plodding my way through the prompts I’ve received, slowly but surely :) So this is a strange little bit of fluff.
In the small town where Peeta Mellark grew up, he was used to seeing the same people everywhere he turned. It was expected, really, that you’d bump into at least five neighbours, or teachers, or coworkers every trip to the grocery store. That’s how small towns worked.
But this wasn’t his small town. And in the bustling metropolis of just under a million people where he’d moved a year after the divorce, he’d been pretty much anonymous.
As I’m sitting in a coffee shop right now, somewhere downtown Detroit, with a coffee to my right, a salad on its way to me, and a sweaty CrossFit session behind me this morning, let me share my candid thoughts with you.
Weight loss is hard. I actually forgot that little fact a few weeks back when I called my sister to declare I had re-signed up for My Firtness Pal; it had been two days and I saw my weight drop, and I remember thinking this will be easy.
It is not.
I had been in Detroit for just over a month, and with the exception of mentally thinking about trying to lose weight, I had put no actual conscious effort into doing so. It was the usual: just wishing and hoping and obsessing, but not actually changing any of my habits. Sure, I had signed up for CrossFit, but to say I was “half-assing” it would have been over stating it.
The mental toll of watching my weight increase was exhausting. I had told myself when I arrived in this new city I’d have a fresh start to my weight loss voyage, but a month had passed and that wasn’t the case. Then at some ungodly hour one morning, I wrote a very honest letter to myself; there’s something about writing that sets things in stone for me. I can tell myself something 302 times, but if I don’t commit those thoughts to written words, I’m almost guaranteed to forget them the next morning. I won’t go into the details of the letter, but I woke up the next morning ready to officially commit to something I so desperately wanted.
That was just over a month ago, and I have been amazed at how that letter somehow switched a light on from within.
Since then I have been to CrossFit four or times each week. It’s been humbling getting back into it. A 35lb bar is all I can handle right now. I’m the slowest by far in all the workouts, and the majority of the movements I have to modify.
I am fortunate that a lot of the movements and my techniques from doing CrossFit in Melbourne were like riding a bike. And my new Coach here is exceptional. This CrossFit focusses on quality over quantity (often the area where CrossFit gets a lot of criticism) and I am definitely thankful for that (I never really found a CrossFit I liked in Toronto because I thought all the coaches didn’t focus on technique).
If you follow along on my Snapchat you’ll already know this, but I’ve even been getting my ass up for the 6am or 7am CrossFit sessions. Last week I made it to FIVE early morning sessions and got a glimpse into life as if I was a morning person. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it got sooooo much easier each day, and I had significantly better days when I did exercise in the morning.
I live in perpetual muscle pain these days, but it’s a good happy pain; one I missed.
As we all know, you can’t out exercise a bad diet, and thus on that fateful letter-writing night, I decided to focus on calorie counting. Calories in, must be less than calories out. I set my goal to “1 pound a week loss” which landed me at 1,800 calories a day. Also making this the most generous number of calories I’ve ever aimed to hit. (In my younger stupider days I’d always aim for 1200/1300 a day).
I bought a little kitchen scale and hit the ground running. I measured and tracked everything. E.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. From the oil on my roasted veggies in the evenings, to milk in my coffee, everything was added to the My Fitness Pal app. I quickly got into the routine of it too, I became more conscious of labels in stores, and more aware of how quickly calories can add up.
One thing I didn’t expect from calorie counting, but am absolutely over the moon about, is how it released me from mentally beating myself up throughout the day. I learned from counting calories that I wasn’t eating that badly before, but mentally I thought I was.
If I ate a Turkey Tom Jimmy John’s sandwich (for Canadian friends, it’s like Subway but more delicious) for lunch (because it was free at the Lunch n’ Learn at work, let’s say) I would be so angry at myself the rest of the day, and think I completely (pardon my french) fucked up my diet that day, which in turn would lead to negative thoughts and not caring about dinner that evening, or worse, trying to hardly eat anything for dinner.
From counting calories I saw that having that Jimmy John’s sandwich for 520 calories was a lot, true, however also completely manageable and normal and I could still easily end my day without going over my allowed calorie intake. A huge amount of mental stress has been lifted from counting calories, and I saw very blatantly how negative I had been previously to myself for no reason at all.
I counted the tomatoes and broccoli and cauliflower and onions and asparagus too, and quickly saw how my current weight is where it’s at in large part because of healthy food. Portions! Portions! Portions! And my portions of healthy food were huge. With the oil on my roasted veggies (carrots / sprouts / asparagus / onions / etc) and half a sweet potato sprinkled with some feta cheese and a breast of chicken on the side, my dinner could and would get to around 600 calories. Yikes. And this makes sense. As I don’t eat McDonalds or candy or go through tubs of ice-cream. I am over weight because of portions. HEALTHY portions.
This post is not a post about my success.
Over the past four weeks my weight has been up and down and up and down and overall I have stayed the same. It’s incredibly frustrating. I am trying really hard. I also have a smart scale which shows no Fat % loss, which busts the muscle weighs more than fat theory.
My jeans, however, are fitting looser, but I also feel like they need a wash… I tried on a dress yesterday which didn’t fit before Christmas, and said dress? Still does not fit. I believe I only went over my calorie intake once, and yet here I sit, seeing no results.
I made a Snapchat story a few days back on how frustrated I am, and a few of you kind people wrote back:
Don’t count calories, look at macros You’re now in your 30s. This is life. Eat the majority of calories in the morning Eat more. Are you adding calories for CrossFit? Do the Whole 30; it works You have to wait longer. At least six weeks 8 hours of sleep, more water.
Looking at the above list there is certainly room for improvement. I don’t pay attention to macros, I do eat the majority of my calories in the evening (although I really think a calorie is a calorie to your body, no matter when you eat it), I do not add my CrossFit calories to MFP (It would be about 600 extra calories a day! Which I think is nutty), and I could definitely drink more water. I also side-eye Whole 30, as I don’t want a “diet,” but more of a lifestyle change; truthfully, I’m also nervous of binging on a “diet.”
I am working at being better at all of the above. Except, of course, I can’t reduce my age. I remember people telling me it would get harder, but like with everything else (skin and cancer and terrible things) it won’t happen to me. I think it has.
But I am not going to give up, because regardless of the number between my toes each morning, working out and eating better has helped my mental state a lot. I am more confident, putting effort into dressing better each morning, and not beating myself up any more.
So yes. There that all is. I’m keeping my fingers and toes crossed there’ll be some scale or fat percentage loss movement. Stay tuned!