The 100 days idea worked really well for getting me started in divesting all of my crap and actually doing a significant amount of said divesting. So, I thought, just this minute when beginning this little posting, hell, why not try that again, babycakes!
Today is Day 3, mostly since I had two great days previous to now.
I am hungry all the time. I know that this damned appetite of mine will settle down eventually, but if today had not been so busy that I could not fit in everything I wanted to do, well, I would have eaten stuff.
The day began with having an obligation to someone else, so no breakfast. There was a tiny break in between that and the next thing, so I did what I had to do and used the drive-through at the only restaurant available. There was a diner or coffee house or something right there, as well, but I did not have enough time to use either of them. A quarter pound hamburger and a huge diet cola, which I needed as much...if not more...than the sandwich.
I then did the second thing and moved on to buy the keyboard I need for one of the computers I use at the library, get new socks and, since I needed a flash drive I bought a Hello Kitty one. I have to say that between socks without holes and that cute, little Kitty and her matching ear buds, I was having a very nice time. Yes. I was.
On to the grocery store for cash for WW and as long as I was there, I decided to shop for groceries. Man, what a concept. Anyway, fruit was not on the shopping list, vegetables were, but the sales were too good to pass up. Strawberries, blackberries, avocado and tomatoes. A huge box of spring greens and a small container of crumbled bleu cheese. Salad dressing. Chicken thighs, artichokes and asparagus. Oh, dear, how did vegetables sneak in there? More plain yogurt to have with the fruit, some eggs for hard cooking, and a package of those frozen hamburger patties. I see people buying them all the time, so they must be good, plus they are easy to cook and because they are frozen patties to begin with, they will not rot in the refrigerator before I get around to cooking and eating them. I threw out a stunning and shameful amount of food-gone-bad today. Meat, cauliflower, eggs, cheese, salad greens. Just fucking shameful. I may not have bought the optimally healthy kinds of foods today, but I think that I did well enough to get by and it is my hope that none of it gets tossed because it is to smelly or oozy to eat.
The best part of shopping was that the drive-through burger gave me a little gastric upset and I had to spend more time in the grocery store restroom that anyone should have to spend. I am kind of glad that it happened. It is a nice reminder that that kind of food does not agree with my tummy. I think that I will keep almonds and walnuts in the car just in case that fierce kind of hunger strikes again and I am not at home to take proper care of it.
Then, my energy broke and I went straight home, skipping the pharmacy and the WW meeting. Fine. That sort of thing is going to keep happening, although I am hoping to not dump the meetings any more than necessary. If their process is going to work for me I have to go to the meetings.
As I was sitting in the car, waiting to feel well enough to drive home, the radio was on and there was a news item about weight loss programs. Jenny Craig was on the top of the good results of the study, and Weight Watchers was not. WW got points for their new plus-something-something, but low marks for the lack of supporting research or something like that. Whatever. JC requires that you buy their food, and their membership fee is a whopping $400.00 per year. Maybe that is why it works, it limits your choices and your ability to do other stuff. Exactly how does that help me learn to eat in what passes for my real world?
As a bonus for not making everything happen today, when I was off to do the first thing for someone, I had my arms full of stuff for the second obligation. In the process, I put a huge compartment box of beads on the roof of the car, along with a brand-new tube of jewelry adhesive. They were the project for the second thing. It was going to be cool. Making as many bracelets and/or necklaces as the students could make in the time we have together.
So, anyway, you have to know where this is going, I get to the school and, wonder of wonders, the huge box of beads is nowhere to be found. I look everywhere, in every bag. No beads. Then, I stand back and stare at the car, like it is going to start talking to me. And, then I see the space on the roof where the beads no longer reside because they fell off sometime during the early part of driving away from home this morning.
Wherever they are, they are not going to be part of anything I do. They were, still are, nice beads, really nice beads and whomever found the box is going to have big fun with them. Taking them to the school was part of divesting them. With any luck, most of them would have been gobbled up during the project. They are still gone, just by a different route.
We were still able to do something, because I had a small ton of ribbons in the car, leftovers from another project. We made braided key chains and bracelets. I made a thing to attach my purse/bag to the chair when I go to restaurants. Will not need it for the drive-through, but nice to have anyway.
I did not get what I needed from the pharmacy, nor was I able to go to a meeting or look for shoes in which I can walk with relative comfort. I did, however, eat fairly well.
Very late breakfast: drive-through burger and a large diet cola.
Late lunch a chicken thigh, two ears of corn, a cup of blackberries.
Late dinner was a huge salad, four cups of loosely shaken into the bowl greens, a medium tomato (which tasted divine), half a small avocado, two or three tablespoons crumbled bleu cheese, splash of oil dressing.
Lots of water all day.
Tomorrow is going to be more difficult. I usually reward myself with dinner out, Asian, for a very busy and stressful workday. I order mostly vegetables, a little shrimp and a bunch of sushi. No sauces. Maybe a soft roll and some rice, but not always. Almost always fresh fruit for dessert when I actually order dessert. Lots of lovely tea.
Man, that choice, whether to go home for a late dinner or go out for a late dinner is slightly less than 24 hours in the future and I am already conflicted about what I am going to do. I suck. In my defense, my day is from shortly after 8 a.m. until after 7 p.m., a long, long day, with only a lunch break. By the time I leave there, the prospect of a nice, mostly healthy dinner is one that is not easy to entertain.
I give up. Going to bed, to try to find that darn library book that I have to keep renewing because I cannot find the darn thing, take a quick shower, read a bit and hope that I make the right dinner choice tomorrow.
Gosh, only 97 more days of this. Thud.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
Seconds on that responsibility, please
Day two of accountability.
Needed a nap again today. Just a short one, but, gosh, this tired babe needs to be less tired. It might be time for another sleep study or some damn thing. Whatever it needs to be, it is certain to need a chunk of money. At this rate, the only travel I will be able to afford is back and forth to the medics.
Two corn dogs (the frozen kind) for breakfast.
Microwave popcorn for lunch.
Three half-strength mugs of instant, sugar-free hot cocoa throughout the afternoon.
A WW frozen meal for dinner. Followed by a cup of plain yogurt with a cup of frozen raspberries (no sugar), and another mug of the aforementioned hot cocoa. The yogurt/fruit mix was surprisingly satisfying. I might consider that as an entire dinner, along with some soothing tea.
Lots of water during the day. Sure am missing soft drinks, though.
I think that I need to transition to hot, decaffeinated tea, instead of the cocoa mix. I also need to get some fresh vegetables and more whole grains into the mix. However, I am trying to use up the food that is already here before buying more. I have whole wheat pasta, canned beans and tomatoes, canned pumpkin and boxes of stock. More microwave popcorn. More hot cocoa mix. Plenty of tea. Three apples, mostly because I did not eat an apple on Sunday.
I think that those corn dogs are going to tempt me more than I want. Why did I buy them and the other frozen meals? Yeah, I remember. It is because I am often too tired and in pain from all my body problems, which are not weight related, to actually cook fresh food and it, the fresh foods, eventually get tossed in the compost or trash. What a shameful waste.
There must be an easier way to do this. I was in enough pain today to keep me from going anywhere, much less the WW meeting. I have to go out to mentor tomorrow and will try to stop in afterward.
And, this pain stuff. I can no longer take some of the over-the-counter analgesics. That leaves the prescription meds. I cannot even begin to consider all of that right now.
I know that thing about how we either try or we just do. Well, just doing does not always work when you cannot walk long or far enough to actually do something. Some days the best I can do is to try. Is there not a way to make that work?
So, tomorrow:
Buy some damn vegetables. Then, eat them.
Find a meeting time and actually go.
First go to the bank and get some damn cash or open a damn checking account to keep the meeting people happy. When they are happy, all of us are happy.
As long as I am out, I should stop at the mall and try to find some walking shoes to help minimize the foot pain.
I will be less cranky and more everything that I want to be when I am healthier. I can do this.
Oh, and I took a single Benadryl tablet before bed last night and did not wake up choking on mucus.
Not...one...single...time!!! Wow, a plan, albeit short-term, to make one thing better.
Needed a nap again today. Just a short one, but, gosh, this tired babe needs to be less tired. It might be time for another sleep study or some damn thing. Whatever it needs to be, it is certain to need a chunk of money. At this rate, the only travel I will be able to afford is back and forth to the medics.
Two corn dogs (the frozen kind) for breakfast.
Microwave popcorn for lunch.
Three half-strength mugs of instant, sugar-free hot cocoa throughout the afternoon.
A WW frozen meal for dinner. Followed by a cup of plain yogurt with a cup of frozen raspberries (no sugar), and another mug of the aforementioned hot cocoa. The yogurt/fruit mix was surprisingly satisfying. I might consider that as an entire dinner, along with some soothing tea.
Lots of water during the day. Sure am missing soft drinks, though.
I think that I need to transition to hot, decaffeinated tea, instead of the cocoa mix. I also need to get some fresh vegetables and more whole grains into the mix. However, I am trying to use up the food that is already here before buying more. I have whole wheat pasta, canned beans and tomatoes, canned pumpkin and boxes of stock. More microwave popcorn. More hot cocoa mix. Plenty of tea. Three apples, mostly because I did not eat an apple on Sunday.
I think that those corn dogs are going to tempt me more than I want. Why did I buy them and the other frozen meals? Yeah, I remember. It is because I am often too tired and in pain from all my body problems, which are not weight related, to actually cook fresh food and it, the fresh foods, eventually get tossed in the compost or trash. What a shameful waste.
There must be an easier way to do this. I was in enough pain today to keep me from going anywhere, much less the WW meeting. I have to go out to mentor tomorrow and will try to stop in afterward.
And, this pain stuff. I can no longer take some of the over-the-counter analgesics. That leaves the prescription meds. I cannot even begin to consider all of that right now.
I know that thing about how we either try or we just do. Well, just doing does not always work when you cannot walk long or far enough to actually do something. Some days the best I can do is to try. Is there not a way to make that work?
So, tomorrow:
Buy some damn vegetables. Then, eat them.
Find a meeting time and actually go.
First go to the bank and get some damn cash or open a damn checking account to keep the meeting people happy. When they are happy, all of us are happy.
As long as I am out, I should stop at the mall and try to find some walking shoes to help minimize the foot pain.
I will be less cranky and more everything that I want to be when I am healthier. I can do this.
Oh, and I took a single Benadryl tablet before bed last night and did not wake up choking on mucus.
Not...one...single...time!!! Wow, a plan, albeit short-term, to make one thing better.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Simple eating
Is there such a thing?
Still trying to eat well, but, gosh, it is so difficult. It is not like there is any real junk food or fun food in the house, but that is all that I want, desire, crave, crave, crave. As a result, I am overeating what is here. Not by much, but more than you need to eat is simply more than you should be eating, big-picture-wise.
Maybe if I keep a record it will help me to take responsibility for being such a, well, something, but not what I was going to write because I am also trying to stop calling myself names, you know, like the really disgusting ones I usually use. So, no name-calling, just the facts.
Let me see.
A four-inch square of leftover chicken and rice casserole.
6 individual pieces of the sugar-free chocolates that R gave me for Easter. That was lunch.
A whole bunch of those smiley-faced frozen potato things. Half is in the refrigerator, but I left them out for a while to cool, forgot about them, and might just toss them in the interest of not getting sick from them.
Lots of water. Then more water and then some more. Lots.
An apple, Ambrosia I think, that I will have before I go to bed.
I am hungry and am not sure that the apple is such a good idea because I still have that tummy trouble, the one where the remains of what you eat leaves your body sooner than is comfortable.
I tried to go, finally, and join Weight Watchers last Tuesday. It took me a couple of weeks to fool around and shake the numbers so that I could squeeze the fees into my budget.
So, anyway, I check the schedule, pick a time when they are having a meeting and haul myself over there. The introductory offer that waived the enrollment fee was over and the weekly prices have gone up. Not by much, but it was more than the cash I had with me, which was really all the cash I had. Have, until this month's social security check arrives in my bank account. There is nothing to do besides cancel or scale back my summer travel plans so that I can do this. Getting healthier is more important than escaping from here for a while.
It/they are the least expensive weight loss thing around here and I really need something to help me with this. I read a whole bunch of diet, weight loss, healthy eating books over the past month, and they all have something decent to share, but I have tried to do this by myself for the past several years and it is just not working. So, the whole group thing is still to be tried.
Tomorrow will find me at the bank, opening a checking account so that I can take advantage of the lower weekly price for the WW meetings. I am slightly miffed that they make you go through all of this nonsense just to get the lowest fees, although I really do understand that they do want to discourage their members from bringing cash that they then have to handle and eventually bank. I will get over that, especially if their program helps me. Although, if that perky Janet is there tomorrow, I will restrain myself from giving her a gentle shake, but with all of the tummy troubles I cannot promise not to barf. Really, she could get on your last nerve. I think that I should begin practicing a nice, relatively sincere smile right now. They say that if you smile, even when you do not feel like smiling, that using those particular muscles can induce a feeling that approximates being happy. Or happier. I believe that, but I am not happy about it.
Maybe I would not be so cranky if I felt better. I have not been able to shake this upper respiratory thing that I caught in January. Seriously, five months is long enough. I am guessing that each of those rounds of antibiotics has not been supportive of settling my stomach. Who knows. At least the infection seems to be under control. I feel slightly worse from being around the smokers on Friday. I am still coughing and my voice is raspy. I slept most of yesterday, all of last night and will be going off to read a bit before sleeping some more.
I just need enough time to rest and be well, or at least feel better. I swear, between the head and chest and throat stuff, the vision crap and my lack of energy, it would be so nice to run away somewhere for a week. Yeah, at least a week, with no responsibilities or opportunities to disappoint anyone. I mean, strangers do not give a crap about how you perform as a person and if, for some reason, they felt some distress at how miserable a human being you are, well, you cannot get all invested in that because they are strangers and you will be leaving them behind soon enough.
Work, however, is going better than ever and I am so grateful for having that part of my life. It is nice, even though it is in contrast to how lonely the rest of my life is. I am not complaining about any of that, truly. I know how fortunate I am to have the resources that I have. I see how lucky I am every day at work. I see it in the market and when I am driving, all the people who would give just about anything to have the life that I have. I am an ungrateful bitch to want more. Maybe it is because I am feverish and cranky and feeling like crap all of the time that just wears me down.
On the bright side, maybe I will be humiliated at Weight Watchers tomorrow and that will put all the rest of my life back into perspective. Yeah, that's the ticket! Something to look forward to.
Still trying to eat well, but, gosh, it is so difficult. It is not like there is any real junk food or fun food in the house, but that is all that I want, desire, crave, crave, crave. As a result, I am overeating what is here. Not by much, but more than you need to eat is simply more than you should be eating, big-picture-wise.
Maybe if I keep a record it will help me to take responsibility for being such a, well, something, but not what I was going to write because I am also trying to stop calling myself names, you know, like the really disgusting ones I usually use. So, no name-calling, just the facts.
Let me see.
A four-inch square of leftover chicken and rice casserole.
6 individual pieces of the sugar-free chocolates that R gave me for Easter. That was lunch.
A whole bunch of those smiley-faced frozen potato things. Half is in the refrigerator, but I left them out for a while to cool, forgot about them, and might just toss them in the interest of not getting sick from them.
Lots of water. Then more water and then some more. Lots.
An apple, Ambrosia I think, that I will have before I go to bed.
I am hungry and am not sure that the apple is such a good idea because I still have that tummy trouble, the one where the remains of what you eat leaves your body sooner than is comfortable.
I tried to go, finally, and join Weight Watchers last Tuesday. It took me a couple of weeks to fool around and shake the numbers so that I could squeeze the fees into my budget.
So, anyway, I check the schedule, pick a time when they are having a meeting and haul myself over there. The introductory offer that waived the enrollment fee was over and the weekly prices have gone up. Not by much, but it was more than the cash I had with me, which was really all the cash I had. Have, until this month's social security check arrives in my bank account. There is nothing to do besides cancel or scale back my summer travel plans so that I can do this. Getting healthier is more important than escaping from here for a while.
It/they are the least expensive weight loss thing around here and I really need something to help me with this. I read a whole bunch of diet, weight loss, healthy eating books over the past month, and they all have something decent to share, but I have tried to do this by myself for the past several years and it is just not working. So, the whole group thing is still to be tried.
Tomorrow will find me at the bank, opening a checking account so that I can take advantage of the lower weekly price for the WW meetings. I am slightly miffed that they make you go through all of this nonsense just to get the lowest fees, although I really do understand that they do want to discourage their members from bringing cash that they then have to handle and eventually bank. I will get over that, especially if their program helps me. Although, if that perky Janet is there tomorrow, I will restrain myself from giving her a gentle shake, but with all of the tummy troubles I cannot promise not to barf. Really, she could get on your last nerve. I think that I should begin practicing a nice, relatively sincere smile right now. They say that if you smile, even when you do not feel like smiling, that using those particular muscles can induce a feeling that approximates being happy. Or happier. I believe that, but I am not happy about it.
Maybe I would not be so cranky if I felt better. I have not been able to shake this upper respiratory thing that I caught in January. Seriously, five months is long enough. I am guessing that each of those rounds of antibiotics has not been supportive of settling my stomach. Who knows. At least the infection seems to be under control. I feel slightly worse from being around the smokers on Friday. I am still coughing and my voice is raspy. I slept most of yesterday, all of last night and will be going off to read a bit before sleeping some more.
I just need enough time to rest and be well, or at least feel better. I swear, between the head and chest and throat stuff, the vision crap and my lack of energy, it would be so nice to run away somewhere for a week. Yeah, at least a week, with no responsibilities or opportunities to disappoint anyone. I mean, strangers do not give a crap about how you perform as a person and if, for some reason, they felt some distress at how miserable a human being you are, well, you cannot get all invested in that because they are strangers and you will be leaving them behind soon enough.
Work, however, is going better than ever and I am so grateful for having that part of my life. It is nice, even though it is in contrast to how lonely the rest of my life is. I am not complaining about any of that, truly. I know how fortunate I am to have the resources that I have. I see how lucky I am every day at work. I see it in the market and when I am driving, all the people who would give just about anything to have the life that I have. I am an ungrateful bitch to want more. Maybe it is because I am feverish and cranky and feeling like crap all of the time that just wears me down.
On the bright side, maybe I will be humiliated at Weight Watchers tomorrow and that will put all the rest of my life back into perspective. Yeah, that's the ticket! Something to look forward to.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Simple thoughts
She needed to be faced with the risk of having the remains of her sight lost due to the little bleed-outs in her retinas and the detachments and the flashers before she was able to take all of this crap seriously. Lordy.
When the next client does a little of the same and tells you that you are a nice person and that you are the first person with whom he has felt comfortable in a very long time, well, that is the icing on that cookie and that cookie is one that you can safely enjoy without further assault to your vision.
That he has a larger pole up his ass than you do is an opportunity to mind your own hubris before it can come back and bite you in the ass. Frankly, it is a blessing, and you get to be grateful not only for his transformation, but for the gentle reflection he offers to your own attitudes and behaviors.
Today he has a new haircut. I see him walking towards me and I think, "Man, that is so cool...he is manifesting his inner Beatle." The mop-top bowl cut is actually quite cute on him.
Then, we pass and I turn to look at the back of the new haircut and I think, "Man, do you not have any friends who are good enough friends to share with you that, from behind, your head looks like a furry penis?"
It would be fine if the reason for dumping the good person was other than intentionally using him to develop the program so that they could take over and run it themselves. Had they been upfront about their plans, no one would have been surprised or hurt in the transition. But, seriously, to use someone like that is just plain shameful.
I am dedicated to that organization and when I heard what had happened I went to the source, where the suspicions of the dumped, good person were confirmed. Bad enough to do that, but how much worse to be so blasé, so matter-of-fact and unashamed about it. I could not be more shocked if it had happened to me. I am hoping that writing it down will help me to process what seems like a complete betrayal of principles, beliefs and honor. I am stunned and see no future time when this is not going to bother me. I have also severed my connection to them, which makes me more sad that I can even think about.
I want to be light-hearted about this, you know, how breaking up is so hard to do (feel free to sing along), but I thought that I could do my little, peripheral stuff there and it could be a sort of connection to my brother, and there just is not any reasonably light aspect that I can find, which is another disappointment for a positive view girl like me. Heartbroken and a little scared that such a thing could happen.
She is a lovely mom and I adore her. I think that we will surprise her with home-made pizza for lunch. One of her favorites.
I have to release this. Holding on to it serves no one. Besides, it feels as though I am giving some of my power away to them, and they do not deserve to have anything from me. This totally and completely sucks.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Even in this small and insignificant place,
where I come to write once in a while, it is not private.
When I posted the last post, I got this page that is in-between the writing of the post and the viewing of the blog. In those few seconds between writing and viewing, this ad appeared on that 'tween page. Lordy.
When I posted the last post, I got this page that is in-between the writing of the post and the viewing of the blog. In those few seconds between writing and viewing, this ad appeared on that 'tween page. Lordy.
Frozen tuna casserole. The egg noodles are good. The celery is not good at all. Not sure where the tuna went. However, the peas make up for everything.
I am still feeling ill and Easter Sunday brunch yesterday would have been so much fun if it had been only three or four hours. Arriving back home at 10:00 p.m., I must admit, was way too late.
We can still go to the big city for one of those thirteen hour days of lunch, shopping, sitting and talking, dinner, talking and all the rest. Then, later, I think we need to talk about this. At least a little. Huh?
The difference between all the past months and May is astounding. May looks positively empty. I am not sure that the future will find me all that happy about releasing some of these obligations, but for now, it seems wonderful.
I am running as fast as I can.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Simple thoughts
McDonald's will not serve you water. They have water, they just will not let you have any.
The robins thought it was safe enough to come back north. I am guessing that the past 2 1/2 days of snow and freezing temperatures were not on this year's schedule. I know that it was not on the rhubarb's schedule.
Yesterday was A's birthday. His friend, M, from school, was cute, funny and a handful. His parents are sure to age prematurely. I hope they have factored that into their life plan. I really do. My C was a handful and I never thought to plan ahead.
I am weary of sitting here at McDonald's, and my soon to be accomplished return to the car repair place seem to be almost more than I can handle. Last night, when my sore throat, sore glands, sore sinuses and sore head were making sleep impossible, I begged to not be sick again. Please, I implore you, body, do not be sick. I do not have time to be sick. More importantly, I do not have the heart to keep getting sick. I accept a crappy immune system and seriously impaired mucus membranes. I do.
Last night, the prospect of being ill again, so soon, only since the end of January, for cryingoutloud, was discouraging enough to have me thinking about an overdose of something. That I do not have anything capable of producing an overdose seemed to not be an obstacle last night. Today, the daylight, gloomy as it is, allows me to see the flaws in that plan.
I mean, you can no longer overdose on acetaminophen any more. At best, you will just lose a leg and the final shreds of respect that your family holds for you. If you have any doubts, just ask S.
When you are visiting your daughter and her family for three months, just following Christmas, it is not in your best interest to precede your departure to her house with a week's worth of fighting.
If you do, on the two days when you have your catarracts removed, your daughter will refuse to hire someone to come in and be with you whilst everyone else in the household is at work or school, and she will leave you to spend the remainder of each surgery day in a restaurant.
You will have money for lunch and coffee and, maybe, cake, but you will not be able to see well enough to find your way to the restroom. You and your ancient bladder will have to rely on the kindness of strangers to help you pee. This one is not about me.
It is important, if not actually essential, to avoid laughing out loud when two men in very expensive suits walk into the McDonald's (where you are waiting whilst your car is being repaired next door) and one of them asks the counter clerk, "So, what's good today?" and then stands there and stares at her until she begins to recite the menu, which is posted on the wall behind her.
Especially when that man orders for the other man, and they end up with fries, one Big Mac (which they split), two soft drinks and a dipped cone. Lordy.
Especially when he turns and you see that it is your old boss. I mean, you heard his voice every day, for years. Failing to recognize him sooner must be your heart, trying to protect your psyche from those memories.
This simple girl is taking her prescription cough medicine, her antihistamines, her nose goo, her pain meds, her mentholated chest rub, her snugly blankie, her book, a couple of cats, her simple thoughts and going to bed.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Reality
My grasp on it, the whole reality thing, is not what I thought it to be. And, just when you think that things cannot get worse, they do.
It is the usual complicated playground here. It is like a person I know who lives in Australia, who says that she is a very responsible person...when something goes wrong, she is responsible. So, O.K., I get that, I accept it and I just move on. Except for today.
I had my driver's license renewed. I was all prepared. Like, totally.
I had my ophthalmologist complete the eye exam part of the renewal when I was there earlier this month when I had that bleeder in my eye.
I had the cash to pay for the renewal.
I arrived in plenty of time, and it went quickly, which it usually does at our DMV location.
I like to go and do this on my actual birthday, which I did today. It is a small and silly ritual about the moving into a new year, even though these driver's licenses are renewed only every eight years.
Then they gave me my license.
You know, I know that I am not beautiful or pretty or even cute. I know that whatever attractiveness I have in all on the inside and I do my best to be the best person that I am capable of being, then I go the extra distance to be just that little bit more of a good and decent, loving and supportive person. But, you know, you go along and you forget what you look like. You see yourself in the mirror at least twice a day when you brush your teeth. You look there to watch yourself brush your hair. But, you do not really look at yourself. At best, you focus in on a part or section. Eyelashes, chin, eyes, brows during plucking.
And, I guess that you just become accustomed to that mug looking back at you. You get used to what you look like and never pay much attention to what you really look like. And, since I know that I am just barely O.K. in the physical looks department, I thought that I had accepted and was able to honor my appearance.
Then, I looked at my license as I was walking out of the building and I thought that I was going to go into a fugue state or some damn thing, because I was stunned at what I really look like. I have been aware of people sort of staring at me over the past several months. At first it drew my attention and then when I could not explain it, you know, like you have noodles dangling from your incisors or a trail of toilet paper stuck in your pants and flowing behind you, I just let it go. Or it is because I am so fat, but I just let that go as well. But, now I know that the staring is because I am so ugly, like seriously, truly and really bad looking.
I am glad that people get to know me and can see that I am a good person. I really am. But, I also really thought that I was sort of not so bad. I guess that I thought that being well-groomed was enough. Clearly, it is not.
And, the worst part is that I believed that I was not a vain person, but I am, I have to be, otherwise I would not feel so bad about all of this. And, any time that I get to feeling too full of myself or prideful, all I have to do is look at that picture and be immediately brought back to reality. Rats. Double, fucking rats.
And, you know what? If you are attractive and looking nice, people will tell you that, they will compliment you, but when there is nothing short of a miracle that you could do to improve your appearance no one will say a complimentary word to you and you never even notice that. I feel such a fool for ever believing that I looked O.K.
It is the usual complicated playground here. It is like a person I know who lives in Australia, who says that she is a very responsible person...when something goes wrong, she is responsible. So, O.K., I get that, I accept it and I just move on. Except for today.
I had my driver's license renewed. I was all prepared. Like, totally.
I had my ophthalmologist complete the eye exam part of the renewal when I was there earlier this month when I had that bleeder in my eye.
I had the cash to pay for the renewal.
I arrived in plenty of time, and it went quickly, which it usually does at our DMV location.
I like to go and do this on my actual birthday, which I did today. It is a small and silly ritual about the moving into a new year, even though these driver's licenses are renewed only every eight years.
Then they gave me my license.
You know, I know that I am not beautiful or pretty or even cute. I know that whatever attractiveness I have in all on the inside and I do my best to be the best person that I am capable of being, then I go the extra distance to be just that little bit more of a good and decent, loving and supportive person. But, you know, you go along and you forget what you look like. You see yourself in the mirror at least twice a day when you brush your teeth. You look there to watch yourself brush your hair. But, you do not really look at yourself. At best, you focus in on a part or section. Eyelashes, chin, eyes, brows during plucking.
And, I guess that you just become accustomed to that mug looking back at you. You get used to what you look like and never pay much attention to what you really look like. And, since I know that I am just barely O.K. in the physical looks department, I thought that I had accepted and was able to honor my appearance.
Then, I looked at my license as I was walking out of the building and I thought that I was going to go into a fugue state or some damn thing, because I was stunned at what I really look like. I have been aware of people sort of staring at me over the past several months. At first it drew my attention and then when I could not explain it, you know, like you have noodles dangling from your incisors or a trail of toilet paper stuck in your pants and flowing behind you, I just let it go. Or it is because I am so fat, but I just let that go as well. But, now I know that the staring is because I am so ugly, like seriously, truly and really bad looking.
I am glad that people get to know me and can see that I am a good person. I really am. But, I also really thought that I was sort of not so bad. I guess that I thought that being well-groomed was enough. Clearly, it is not.
And, the worst part is that I believed that I was not a vain person, but I am, I have to be, otherwise I would not feel so bad about all of this. And, any time that I get to feeling too full of myself or prideful, all I have to do is look at that picture and be immediately brought back to reality. Rats. Double, fucking rats.
And, you know what? If you are attractive and looking nice, people will tell you that, they will compliment you, but when there is nothing short of a miracle that you could do to improve your appearance no one will say a complimentary word to you and you never even notice that. I feel such a fool for ever believing that I looked O.K.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
A couple of hours, a piece of cake and a beer later
Having just eaten a poorly conceived dinner, I am off to bed. I think that another reason that I am feeling so badly about this is that I do not have anyone that I can trust to not hurt me here. There is not, never will be, a moment when I am able to feel safe. I suck.
Cold dishes
Who said this...revenge is a dish best served cold? I have to look this up somewhere. My table-sized Bartlett's is actually out on loan, so let me see...
Oh, who cares.
Anyway, even though I am trying to be as good a person as I can, I have revenge in my heart. That person who claimed never to have told me a single lie after I found out that he had cheated, is sort of telling the truth in one respect. He does not lie in ways that I will eventually be informed, but he does lie about me. Like, a lot. This week, after I heard him tell a lie about me I decided to keep count for a while. You know, just in the spirit of being accurate.
It is Thursday, and he has told people, in my presence, lies about me four times. Four fucking times.
Each time I just stood by and did nothing. You know, just like I always do. This must be a special week, because I usually only hear about the lies from his family or one of his friends. When that happens, I do what I did this week. I say nothing in my defense. It just does not seem worth the hassle of saying anything. When it happens, I feel as though I should be judged and treated on my own merits, the factors of how I am in relationship with that person and not in defense of myself. Besides, defending one's self from that sort of thing is an exercise in heartbreak.
But, after having it happen again, just a half-hour ago, I am sitting here and feeling so badly about the whole damn thing. When it happened, and I waited until the person was gone and asked why the lie had been told, I realized something. I think that he wants me to respond when the person is still around. I think that he wants me to be upset and maybe even cry or something. I believe that he wants confirmation about how much this hurts me and that it makes him glad, like that is the payoff for him. So, now I am even more sad.
But, just a few minutes ago I felt anger about this whole thing. And, I was thinking that, oh, just you wait until you need me to do some dumb thing for you again. Boy, I will show you by not doing that thing. Yeah, I will show you. Yeah, I am so mature.
And, the next time something is needed, and that happens several times a day it seems sometimes, I know that I will step up and not be all pissy, petty and revengeful and, well, like that.
So, what I have to do is find a way to not let any of this bother me anymore. Right now I just hate my life a little bit. Yeah, I know that this is my place to be upbeat and positive and hopeful. So, maybe I am positive that I hate my life. There is something seriously wrong with me that I do not leave him to handle his health problems and just go away somewhere where I do not have to deal with all of this. I just totally suck at this.
Oh, who cares.
Anyway, even though I am trying to be as good a person as I can, I have revenge in my heart. That person who claimed never to have told me a single lie after I found out that he had cheated, is sort of telling the truth in one respect. He does not lie in ways that I will eventually be informed, but he does lie about me. Like, a lot. This week, after I heard him tell a lie about me I decided to keep count for a while. You know, just in the spirit of being accurate.
It is Thursday, and he has told people, in my presence, lies about me four times. Four fucking times.
Each time I just stood by and did nothing. You know, just like I always do. This must be a special week, because I usually only hear about the lies from his family or one of his friends. When that happens, I do what I did this week. I say nothing in my defense. It just does not seem worth the hassle of saying anything. When it happens, I feel as though I should be judged and treated on my own merits, the factors of how I am in relationship with that person and not in defense of myself. Besides, defending one's self from that sort of thing is an exercise in heartbreak.
But, after having it happen again, just a half-hour ago, I am sitting here and feeling so badly about the whole damn thing. When it happened, and I waited until the person was gone and asked why the lie had been told, I realized something. I think that he wants me to respond when the person is still around. I think that he wants me to be upset and maybe even cry or something. I believe that he wants confirmation about how much this hurts me and that it makes him glad, like that is the payoff for him. So, now I am even more sad.
But, just a few minutes ago I felt anger about this whole thing. And, I was thinking that, oh, just you wait until you need me to do some dumb thing for you again. Boy, I will show you by not doing that thing. Yeah, I will show you. Yeah, I am so mature.
And, the next time something is needed, and that happens several times a day it seems sometimes, I know that I will step up and not be all pissy, petty and revengeful and, well, like that.
So, what I have to do is find a way to not let any of this bother me anymore. Right now I just hate my life a little bit. Yeah, I know that this is my place to be upbeat and positive and hopeful. So, maybe I am positive that I hate my life. There is something seriously wrong with me that I do not leave him to handle his health problems and just go away somewhere where I do not have to deal with all of this. I just totally suck at this.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Frequencies
It is impossible to avoid finding pleasure in a day. Sometime I have to look for it, on occasion it is necessary to wrestle it out of the mess that a day can be. So, I should be writing here more often.
I do not because I am weak and the end of the day finds me too exhausted from all of the things that are not pleasurable. Still, I should make the effort.
Yesterday found me without any scheduled clients. In itself, it is a cause for unbounded joy, because it means that I have an entire day to catch up on all of the things that never seem to get finished in a normal day. So, yeah, that was really great. I did have two short, impromptu meetings with other staff, but I managed to bring everything up to speed, including the forum site that I created for clients.
The two previous weeks were full of clients, and they were all, with a single exception, my most favorite type. They come in, do the work and pull together all of the adjunct work they need to do.
Ah, my exception. He is the man who rarely shows up, often sleeps/dozes, and is very resistant to doing his own work. We have established that he does not have any reading or behavioral deficits, and my best guess is that he really does not embrace forward movement in his life right now. When he shows up, we work; when he stays home, I am able to take walk-ins and do more catch-up stuff. My supervisor believes that I should have fired him as a client long ago, but, truth be told, I kind of look forward to what he will do next. He is also a bit dramatic, and wails that if he forgets his appointments that I will be mad at him. Frankly, I find him amusing, but if that is what he needs to feel about it, then that is just fine. He missed his appointment this week. I am looking forward to the next installment.
What else. I am still infusing hydration liquids into a cat with kidney failure. She is doing well and is so sweet about allowing me to poke her with a huge needle and then fill the space above her shoulders with cooler than body temperature liquid. She tolerates the entire procedure and then takes a step or two away from me, plops down and sits and rests whilst I put all of the equipment away. Her owner is calming down a bit and the two of them are often the sweetest part of my week.
I received a call this morning from the social service agency for which I sometimes volunteer. One of my old clients has been diagnosed with cancer and I am taking her to an out of town appointment tomorrow. I think that I am also going to be designated as her person qualified to accompany her and take notes during her doctor visits. I am saddened by her illness, but thrilled to be involved with her again. If she is strong enough, I will offer to take her to lunch before returning her to her home.
The kitties are fine, although C seems to be having trouble with his colon again and is vomiting a fair amount. Sad for the process of his health, but also because it means that he cannot sleep in my room whenever he likes. I have no desire to clean up the effluence from either end of that wonderful guy, so he must stay on the wrong side of that door. It means that both cats cannot go there, and that makes for sadness for all of us.
I am trying to stay upbeat here, but I had an issue with my good, as in decent vision, eye last week. It has not resolved and there is not explanation of the cause or how to fix or prevent the bastardly issue. So, I am concentrating on enjoying the vision that I have now and not stressing about something which is unknown and might not fully manifest anyway.
I am weary of my weight, as in huge body, and am trying to move in the direction of doing something about it. I have good intentions, really and truly I do. Moving from intention, desire and need is difficult for me. It is as though I do not feel deserving of a healthy life. It is like I deserve to have a sad body to match my sad life. I cannot control or really even affect the life part, but I could and can do something about my physical aspect. Why is this so hard and why does it make me weep. I have to move beyond this barrier. If I do not, I will die long before I want or need.
I do not because I am weak and the end of the day finds me too exhausted from all of the things that are not pleasurable. Still, I should make the effort.
Yesterday found me without any scheduled clients. In itself, it is a cause for unbounded joy, because it means that I have an entire day to catch up on all of the things that never seem to get finished in a normal day. So, yeah, that was really great. I did have two short, impromptu meetings with other staff, but I managed to bring everything up to speed, including the forum site that I created for clients.
The two previous weeks were full of clients, and they were all, with a single exception, my most favorite type. They come in, do the work and pull together all of the adjunct work they need to do.
Ah, my exception. He is the man who rarely shows up, often sleeps/dozes, and is very resistant to doing his own work. We have established that he does not have any reading or behavioral deficits, and my best guess is that he really does not embrace forward movement in his life right now. When he shows up, we work; when he stays home, I am able to take walk-ins and do more catch-up stuff. My supervisor believes that I should have fired him as a client long ago, but, truth be told, I kind of look forward to what he will do next. He is also a bit dramatic, and wails that if he forgets his appointments that I will be mad at him. Frankly, I find him amusing, but if that is what he needs to feel about it, then that is just fine. He missed his appointment this week. I am looking forward to the next installment.
What else. I am still infusing hydration liquids into a cat with kidney failure. She is doing well and is so sweet about allowing me to poke her with a huge needle and then fill the space above her shoulders with cooler than body temperature liquid. She tolerates the entire procedure and then takes a step or two away from me, plops down and sits and rests whilst I put all of the equipment away. Her owner is calming down a bit and the two of them are often the sweetest part of my week.
I received a call this morning from the social service agency for which I sometimes volunteer. One of my old clients has been diagnosed with cancer and I am taking her to an out of town appointment tomorrow. I think that I am also going to be designated as her person qualified to accompany her and take notes during her doctor visits. I am saddened by her illness, but thrilled to be involved with her again. If she is strong enough, I will offer to take her to lunch before returning her to her home.
The kitties are fine, although C seems to be having trouble with his colon again and is vomiting a fair amount. Sad for the process of his health, but also because it means that he cannot sleep in my room whenever he likes. I have no desire to clean up the effluence from either end of that wonderful guy, so he must stay on the wrong side of that door. It means that both cats cannot go there, and that makes for sadness for all of us.
I am trying to stay upbeat here, but I had an issue with my good, as in decent vision, eye last week. It has not resolved and there is not explanation of the cause or how to fix or prevent the bastardly issue. So, I am concentrating on enjoying the vision that I have now and not stressing about something which is unknown and might not fully manifest anyway.
I am weary of my weight, as in huge body, and am trying to move in the direction of doing something about it. I have good intentions, really and truly I do. Moving from intention, desire and need is difficult for me. It is as though I do not feel deserving of a healthy life. It is like I deserve to have a sad body to match my sad life. I cannot control or really even affect the life part, but I could and can do something about my physical aspect. Why is this so hard and why does it make me weep. I have to move beyond this barrier. If I do not, I will die long before I want or need.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Feeding yourself
I should be in bed, but I just have to write about my friend.
He and his mother used to have a really cool, down home, spirit satisfying, soul food restaurant. Here in the US that means lots of honest Southern cuisine. But, you know how those things go. Even though they had plenty of business, the work became overwhelming for the two of them, especially his mother who was no longer a f\girl with youthful energies.
So, they finally closed the restaurant, but they never gave up on having the energy to try it again sometime.
So, anyway, my friend was at a local veteran's center. They have a bar, meeting rooms where vets come to play cards, have bar snacks and shoot the shit, which is a good thing, by the way.
One day he happened to wander down a hallway and see a fully equipped kitchen, with an adjoining dining room, albeit a little on the small size, both the kitchen and dining room.
Since you cannot smoke indoors anymore, he continued on his way outside to have his way with a cigarette and got to talking with another smoker. He mentioned the kitchen and asked if the other guy knew how or when it was last used. Turns out the other vet was on some kind of board at the center. My friend told me, but I have forgotten the details. Anyway, they used to have Friday night fish fry dinners there, but it did not work out, mostly because the previous guy was kind of a flake and the food was not so great either.
My friend and I have been noodling around with ideas for a community center that he wants to open, and since that sort of thing is both in my background and an adjunct to the self-employment support and services I provide to my clients, between the two of us, well, we had made forward movement on his ideal plans.
But, when this opportunity presented itself to get back into a kitchen post-haste, he arranged for a meeting with whomever is in charge there (again, he told me, but I have forgotten...huge surprise) and developed a plan for resuming those Friday night dinners. He shared all of his ideas, but, frankly, he was so informed about what is needed for having a restaurant, even a part time one, that I was of little extra help to him. He says otherwise, but he is wrong.
That was a month ago. Tonight was their first dinner. Actually, it started late this morning with a lunch menu, but the full dinner menu started this evening.
To say that it was great is an understatement. You could tell that it was the first time for all of those people to be working together, but there was barely a misstep. There was the kitchen door that kept self-locking and the really old guy at the table next to me who managed to unscrew the top from the tartar sauce container and dump most of the contents on his lap and cap and then proceeded to pick up the container's top from the floor and screw it back on. No worries, because I told the wait person and she took care of it.
There were two tiny issues with the serving temperature of my dinner, but we will discuss that later when we meet to recap my experience. On the whole, it was outstanding food, efficient and friendly service, a pleasant environment and he really scored a huge win on his first day there.
Despite the fact that I, a very healthy eater, brought home half of my dinner, he assured me that he really is making sufficient money on the huge portions they are serving. Just another proof of his dedication to fabulous food at a fair price. I can hardly wait to surprise the kitties with pollack and catfish for din-din tomorrow when I get home from the quilt show.
I am looking forward to next week for the chance to try another item from the menu. I may never cook another Friday night dinner for myself. Yum.
He and his mother used to have a really cool, down home, spirit satisfying, soul food restaurant. Here in the US that means lots of honest Southern cuisine. But, you know how those things go. Even though they had plenty of business, the work became overwhelming for the two of them, especially his mother who was no longer a f\girl with youthful energies.
So, they finally closed the restaurant, but they never gave up on having the energy to try it again sometime.
So, anyway, my friend was at a local veteran's center. They have a bar, meeting rooms where vets come to play cards, have bar snacks and shoot the shit, which is a good thing, by the way.
One day he happened to wander down a hallway and see a fully equipped kitchen, with an adjoining dining room, albeit a little on the small size, both the kitchen and dining room.
Since you cannot smoke indoors anymore, he continued on his way outside to have his way with a cigarette and got to talking with another smoker. He mentioned the kitchen and asked if the other guy knew how or when it was last used. Turns out the other vet was on some kind of board at the center. My friend told me, but I have forgotten the details. Anyway, they used to have Friday night fish fry dinners there, but it did not work out, mostly because the previous guy was kind of a flake and the food was not so great either.
My friend and I have been noodling around with ideas for a community center that he wants to open, and since that sort of thing is both in my background and an adjunct to the self-employment support and services I provide to my clients, between the two of us, well, we had made forward movement on his ideal plans.
But, when this opportunity presented itself to get back into a kitchen post-haste, he arranged for a meeting with whomever is in charge there (again, he told me, but I have forgotten...huge surprise) and developed a plan for resuming those Friday night dinners. He shared all of his ideas, but, frankly, he was so informed about what is needed for having a restaurant, even a part time one, that I was of little extra help to him. He says otherwise, but he is wrong.
That was a month ago. Tonight was their first dinner. Actually, it started late this morning with a lunch menu, but the full dinner menu started this evening.
To say that it was great is an understatement. You could tell that it was the first time for all of those people to be working together, but there was barely a misstep. There was the kitchen door that kept self-locking and the really old guy at the table next to me who managed to unscrew the top from the tartar sauce container and dump most of the contents on his lap and cap and then proceeded to pick up the container's top from the floor and screw it back on. No worries, because I told the wait person and she took care of it.
There were two tiny issues with the serving temperature of my dinner, but we will discuss that later when we meet to recap my experience. On the whole, it was outstanding food, efficient and friendly service, a pleasant environment and he really scored a huge win on his first day there.
Despite the fact that I, a very healthy eater, brought home half of my dinner, he assured me that he really is making sufficient money on the huge portions they are serving. Just another proof of his dedication to fabulous food at a fair price. I can hardly wait to surprise the kitties with pollack and catfish for din-din tomorrow when I get home from the quilt show.
I am looking forward to next week for the chance to try another item from the menu. I may never cook another Friday night dinner for myself. Yum.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
I am practically atingle with happiness
Whilst I still have a load or two of laundry to do, no one has hassled me or given me grief or yelled at me about using the machines today.
If this is not pure, unadulterated bliss, well, I do not know what is. Were I able to move with comfort, I would be happy-dancing all over the place, but really quiet, like a mouse. Wee, tiny, little happy-dancing mice. I would dance with them. My peeps.
Ah, whatever happens for the other half of this day, I can survive it relatively unscathed because this early part is worth appreciating, seeking out and bringing on the dancing and very blissful little guys with the naked tails.
To leap, to soar, without a care
Is a blessing of the rarest kind.
Through the air and in my soul,
One to be held in heart and mind
For times less peaceful,
Times less calm and quiet and gay,
When struggles are met
With the strength gathered today
It is life's dance, at least mine
To experience as best I am able.
And gather the soft remembrances
For future times unstable.
Dance, baby, whilst you can.
If this is not pure, unadulterated bliss, well, I do not know what is. Were I able to move with comfort, I would be happy-dancing all over the place, but really quiet, like a mouse. Wee, tiny, little happy-dancing mice. I would dance with them. My peeps.
Ah, whatever happens for the other half of this day, I can survive it relatively unscathed because this early part is worth appreciating, seeking out and bringing on the dancing and very blissful little guys with the naked tails.
To leap, to soar, without a care
Is a blessing of the rarest kind.
Through the air and in my soul,
One to be held in heart and mind
For times less peaceful,
Times less calm and quiet and gay,
When struggles are met
With the strength gathered today
It is life's dance, at least mine
To experience as best I am able.
And gather the soft remembrances
For future times unstable.
Dance, baby, whilst you can.
Maps
I was using Google Maps this morning to find the location and direction to a family thing being held in another state, on the weekend next.
Alongside of the directions, there was the full, continental US map image. Except for the tolls and the likelihood of encountering road construction, it looks like a nice and easy trip.
I grabbed the little zoom bar and pulled it all the way down so that I could see the whole world. I swear, that image never fails to thrill me right down to my core. That teeny place marker, that infinitesimal point where I will be spending a couple of hours on the road, well, it just floors me.
A space on my screen that a gently expanded hand-width covers and I have touched the entire planet. Rotate my hand approximately 20 degrees and I could hold it in my palm. It makes me think of how delicate, how fragile and wondrous it is, this place we call home.
Sure, it enthuses me to take care of it. More than that, it helps me revisit my commitment to making my part of it, that tiny bit at the point of the marker, a better place. Small things salve my emotions, fuel my desires and make make my behaviors worth performing them. My tininess reminds me of my connection to every other person, every other living thing. I am humbled by the shared responsibilities and shames me for my pitiful efforts.
On that map, I am an invisible speck beneath uncounted specks.
Oh, and I might have lost a friend today. If it happens, it will make me sad beyond my ability to express how truly sad I will be. Sometimes friends have to take that risk with each other. But, I will still be sad.
Alongside of the directions, there was the full, continental US map image. Except for the tolls and the likelihood of encountering road construction, it looks like a nice and easy trip.
I grabbed the little zoom bar and pulled it all the way down so that I could see the whole world. I swear, that image never fails to thrill me right down to my core. That teeny place marker, that infinitesimal point where I will be spending a couple of hours on the road, well, it just floors me.
A space on my screen that a gently expanded hand-width covers and I have touched the entire planet. Rotate my hand approximately 20 degrees and I could hold it in my palm. It makes me think of how delicate, how fragile and wondrous it is, this place we call home.
Sure, it enthuses me to take care of it. More than that, it helps me revisit my commitment to making my part of it, that tiny bit at the point of the marker, a better place. Small things salve my emotions, fuel my desires and make make my behaviors worth performing them. My tininess reminds me of my connection to every other person, every other living thing. I am humbled by the shared responsibilities and shames me for my pitiful efforts.
On that map, I am an invisible speck beneath uncounted specks.
Oh, and I might have lost a friend today. If it happens, it will make me sad beyond my ability to express how truly sad I will be. Sometimes friends have to take that risk with each other. But, I will still be sad.
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