Strange Battle Cries

For the last month, I've been posting on a regular basis over on a new blog I started for just that purpose... called Primal Baker.

When Riot told me about the Primal Blueprint diet, I was skeptical. To the point where I trusted her research that she;d done and decided to take the 30 day primal challenge with absolutely no expectations other than having to give up a lot of my favorite foods for a month. Okay, maybe all.

However, in 30 days, my mind has been completely blown and I've started doing my own digging into the subject. I'm not hugely great on explaining other people's findings outside of essay format, so I'd like to refer you over to Mark's Daily Apple blog if you want more information.

Suffice to say, I've changed my mind, and the Primal Blueprint is fast becoming a way of life for me. Here's why.

I dropped 20 pounds in 30 days.
I'm feeling healthier than I have in months.
I'm eating better than I ever have in my life.
I look better than I have in years.
Muscle definition is on the way.

Not bad for a whimsical indulgence of my fiancee a month before our marriage, I'd say.

Nothing has convinced me more that our cats should have a raw food diet than when Luci deciced to go 'hunting' for the eggs on my lap, spilling them all over my kindle and then devouring them when I got up to clean them off.

how much I love learning new things. I just caught the latter half of a lecture on the research channel talking about the neuroscience of learning and memory, and not only was I able to follow it, but I was also able to build on some of my older knowledge.

.... I always forget how much I love this sort of thing.

Maybe I really should go back to school.

I feel vaguely compelled to explain my new tag line, "curator per nusquam custodio." It's latin (ish) and if there's anyone out there who is capable of giving me a more accurate translation of the idea, I'd welcome it. It's a rough translation of "the guardian with nothing to guard," which is a bit of self-image that I've had for a very long time. The accuracy waxes and wanes in direct correlation with my feelings of self-worth, as well as my introspective mood.

Meh, maybe I just need to actually, finally, find a career.

Riot and I recently got ourselves a pair of kittens! We named them Luci Blaze and Gilgamesh. I'm starting to believe that I'm allergic to them. When I wake up each morning and my head feels like it's been stuffed with cotton, unless I take some antihistamines before I go to sleep, I'm pretty sure it's a decent indication. At least I'm not violently allergic to them like I was to the one we nearly got from Elf earlier in the summer.

Oh, yeah, and Riot, whenever she refers to them, manages to add an extra syllable to the word "kittens." I've decided that this sounds a lot like 'kit-nins,' as in kitten-ninjas. Regardless of the accuracy of my hearing, it amuses me greatly.

I just found out that I officially passed IS!

Being someone who has devoted several years of his life to the study of the ways in which people communicate (with themselves, with each other, in groups, and through various media), I find that the way in which people introduce themselves has special meaning. Especially when starting something that intends to be the first interaction of many. This process bears particular interest when dealing with Internet communication, because there comes a point when self-disclosure of some kind must occur. In several ways, I have already begun. So far, from this post, a careful reader could have picked out that I'm male, that I study communication, and that I tend to ramble.

Now I'll begin in earnest.
Call me Kell. I'm a male, in my early 20's, currently romantically attached to a pleasant young woman who I will only name as T. I'm graduating from college in a few short weeks with a degree in Communication Studies. I'm beginning to write in this blog with the primary intention of having a way in which I can keep in contact with my friends and family as I get off my academic butt and become what I'm told is a "productive member of society," whatever that means.

I think that's enough for now, and therefore I'm done. In the future, should I remember to post, I'll no doubt fill these digital pages with random rants and simple updates on my life. In short, whatever I feel like.
Enjoy!

She's a fun one. Just hope she doesn't get bored with me.

From here on out, ever day, I will do something better than I've done it before. It doesn't have to be massive improvement. I doesn't have to be a huge change, it's just one thing that I did better. Last night I made a point of getting to sleep at a better time so I could get up early to work. Today I made a point of going to library and working for most of the day. True, I still got distracted at times, but I got more work done than I would have if I'd stayed in my room.
Tomorrow, who knows what I'll do better at?
But I KNOW that I'll do something better. Be it classwork, exercise, diet, courtesy, social interaction, waking up on time, or something else.
I WILL improve myself, in some way, every day, for as long as I can.

Imagine, if you will, a figure walking alone at night. He walks slowly, with a relaxed but purposeful gait. Your gaze starts at his feet, where he is wearing Adidas sambas that are somewhat beat-up and black socks beneath a slightly rumpled pair of khakis. Your sight continues upwards, where you see his hands, encased in black leather gloves, now hooked by the thumbs into the pants of his khakis, now swinging comfortably at his sides. Next you see a leather jacket with large pockets on the front, and scratched up elbows, that fits well to his broad shoulders. You can't tell, but you think he's of about average weight, maybe a tad chubby. Your gaze continues, noticing the high neck of a fleece vest tucked tight to his chin. The chin sports a rough brown/blonde goatee, his cheeks a little rough with absent-minded fuzz from the last time he forgot to shave. His mane of gold/brown hair is just starting to get shaggy at this point, and is poking out from underneath a black fedora. His back is straight, his head up, glancing around him. At this point, he pauses, and turns back towards you partially, looking over his shoulder. His face is solemn, thoughtful, with the barest hints of a smile at the corner of his mouth, but you imagine that while he often looks like this, it's not unaccustomed to a grin. He looks at you, and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, his hand reaching up to tug the brim of his hat down a bit in a respectful gesture as his eyes, now blue, now green, meet yours for an instant over his glasses that are somewhere between an oval and a rectangle. There is something in their depths that isn't quite a sparkle. His hand curls up so that only two fingers remain on the brim of his hat, and he turns away and keeps walking as he moves those fingers away from the brim with a flick of his wrist, extending his arm as he does it. The gesture looks habitual, and brings a hint of a smile to your face as keeps walking away. He never looks back, but continues walking forward until you turn away.