I just watched this doc about weed growers in Nor-Cal. I don't know why I torture myself by watching something that just reminds me of my dream. My whole life I've been trying to get to California, and every damn time I get there, something fucked up happens that sends me back to Bellevue. There is no place on earth as beautiful as the Northern California mountains. Those sun-dried rolling hills, the twisting, dense forest. I've never slept better in my life than I did when I lived in a tent off Bell Springs. It was so dark and peaceful, zillions of stars in the sky, only the sounds of the mountains themselves. I miss it so much. I pray for the day when I can buy my Nor-Cal land. Acres of property in the mountains, my yurt, my wind turbine, an organic garden, a well. My dogs and chickens, all that privacy! I realize I have a bit of a social phobia. I always think I want to hang out with people, and get really excited when someone asks me to do something, but the closer to the time when we're supposed to hang out gets, the more I start to think I really don't want to do it after all. What I want more than lots of friends or being invited out to do things I don't want to do, is just to have my acreage, my dream home, my dogs, and HAM. I don't need many people, or things. I would need a car with four-wheel drive to get to and from my home, and I'd love to have a gym. But that's the one major luxury item that I desire. I don't need a home theater or an olympic size pool, I don't need leather furniture (in fact I would NEVER own leather furniture) or whatever kinds of things rich people require. I don't need a huge TV or a tennis court, or even a hot tub (although I would like a hot tub). What I really want is to be peaceful and happy in the mountains with my little family, possibly growing weed, writing, sewing, growing my own food and raising chickens for eggs (not meat). The simple life. And a home gym. And not a lame "all-in-one" machine, but an actual gym, with mirrors, cardio machines, benches, free weights, a big mat, and various other workout apparati. Maybe a sound system and a TV mounted on the wall. That's my one luxury desire - not that big of a deal. But if I couldn't have that, I'd at least like to live close enough to a gym that it isn't an hour drive to get there. It took an hour to ge anywhere from Bell Springs. But it was way out in Laytonville, and Laytonville is already such a small town that even when you finally get to town, gas is about 500 thousand dollars a gallon and everything in the grocery store is inflated by 50%. There's one restaurant/ bar, a deli, a post office, a couple motels, a grocery store, a gas station, and a coffee shop with (surprisingly) wireless internet access. I'd rather live in the Ukiah mountains because Ukiah has more going on than Laytonville and Willits is so hick it might as well be Texas. But since my ex-fiance, ALL, is from there, it's really not a safe place to live. That's so unfortunate because I truly fell in love with Mendocino County and never wanted to leave. It's so beautiful there, and there's no traffic. I never had to wait in line at the post office and I never got stuck in rush hour. Granted, it takes about an hour to get anywhere in Mendo (if you're not just going to the grocery store down the street), but it's so majestic and filled with nature that I don't care how long it takes to get somewhere - the drive is like meditation. Not like rush hour, where sitting in my car makes me want to murder the person in front of me. Taking a long time to get somewhere due to distance is fine, it's taking a long time to get somewhere because of congestion that gets my skin boiling. But the fact is, that won't be a reality for several years. It's my dream, and I can't let it die. I will get there someday. Until then I have to learn to grow food and raise chickens, sew my own clothes, ferment my own Kombucha, use public utilities to run my appliances, and keep the hippie dream alive.

I did hot yoga last night for the first time in almost a year. It was good to get back and sweat off about three pounds of my bodyweight. But there's something yoga instructors always like to remind you of while you're balancing on one foot and giving yourself a good ol'fashioned reacharound. They always say things like, "Don't compare yourself to anyone else in class. This is your yoga practice. It doesn't matter if the person in front of you can stretch a little further. This is about you doing your best practice." I don't know if they sayt that because as humans, we're just competitive by nature and we're always looking at others to see how we measure up, or if it's because they can see me eyeing the hot chick who's bent in half with her right leg behind her head and still has no belly fat hanging over the top of her ass-bearing yoga shorts. I can't help but compare myself to these girls. Any time I enter a hot yoga class, I immediately scan the room for the hot girls and then spend the rest of the class eyeing them from my upward dog. I also wonder, how do they stay looking so beautiful in 115 degree heat while moving through a series of warrior poses? I see myself in the mirror and my face is beet red and dripping with sweat. Then I see these girls and it looks like they're in full makeup with only a slight sheen. Is it those eyelash extensions? Permanent makeup? I guess hot girls are juse hot at all times. They probably look like that first thing in the morning, too. I feel like I look like a completely different person without makeup on. It's not too terrible when it's just everyday, but in a hot yoga class I do not look pretty. And I always feel like HAM must be comparing me to these girls as well. of course, I have no proof of that, and he's never given me reason to think that he would do that, but I still feel like he must be thinking, "I wish that girl was my girlfriend instead of BG." Or at least, "I'd like to do that girl." I know that it isn't all about looks. He likes me for other reasons, too (although I'm not sure what they are) but I still feel insecure whenever there's a girl around who's obviously hotter than me. Because when he met me, I was almost physically perfect. My body was on fire back then. I was the perfect weight and my stomach was rock hard, I was super tan, and I'd always get my nails done with black french tips - his favorite. He's said before that he thinks girls should always wear makeup and get their nails done. Well, it's just not possible for me to always wear makeup or afford to get my nails done every two weeks. And what I do these days is already a complete 180 from what I used to do. I mean, shit, I never wore makeup or a bra, or shoes for that matter. I had dreadlocks and didn't shave. I never would've even thought of tanning or getting my nails done. This whole Bellevue Girl thing is rather new to me and it's not always easy for me to stay on top of it. Sometimes I wish I could just go back to the dreadlocks and bare feet and just say "fuck it" to all the superficial bullshit. But I'm too insecure for that now. besides, HAM met me when I was almost perfect and I just assume that's what he expects from me, so I'm constantly trying to get back there. It's hard, though. With all these health problems I've had over the last year, I've gained and lost the same 10 lbs several times and right now I'm somewhere in between. I know he's come to love me over the last year and a few months that we've been together, so it's not all about my appearance anymore like I'm sure it was at the beginning. I just want to be perfect for him. Why? I want him to keep loving me. Once he said he had concerns that I might end up looking like my mom one day. It really hurt my feelings for two reasons: 1) Because I love my mom and I don't want to hear anyone say bad things about her and 2) Because my mom and I are two different people who lead different lifestyles. I work out five days a week and put a great deal of effort into my health and appearance. My mom has always been more focused on art than on exercise. There's just no way to compare the two of us or to be able to look at her for a prediction of what I'll look like when I'm older. He later apologized and took back what he said, and I believe he meant that, but it's still in the back of my mind. Anyway, I am supposed to somehow come to accept who I am and that I will never be perfect but that I'm pretty good, not fat, etc. I am not there yet by any means, but at least I am aware that I need to get to a place of acceptance in order to be happy and one way to do that is to stop comparing myself to hot girls in hot yoga and just focus on my best practice. In hot yoga and in life.