When we last left our intrepid #fitgirl wannabe, she was celebrating both scalar and non-scalar victories and feeling like a million dollars.
And then … dun, dun, dunnnn … it happened. [screaming sound effect] The year-end holidays arrived.
Yes, it’s all very well for you to make fun, Dawn, but …
I know. And I’m not really making fun. It’s just that I have read so many blog posts lately about how the year-end holidays just destroyed everything we were doing to get fit and take off those extra pounds, that it’s been kind of disconcerting.
I haven’t been in here in a while, for which I humbly apologize.
I have had to be all stressed out about money and trying to keep things turned on — or not — what with the little bit of money I’m making from teaching and the two young men I live with eating like there’s no tomorrow.
“Boys will be boys.” Yeah, okay.
Latest household excitement: Sammy the Cat was missing. We couldn’t find her anywhere. I seriously thought that she was gone and was trying to figure out how I was going to break the news to my daughters. How did we find her? Well, I opened the new bag of cat food and went to feed them. She reappeared, like magic. Where had she been? Continue reading
There are a lot of different ways that I could have responded to the life I’ve lived.
I could be angry. I could be bitter. On the other hand, I could be a determined optimist who dusts off her rose-colored spectacles every morning.
I don’t think I am any of those things. I don’t think so.
It’s always pleasant for me to see men and women who are together and who stay together, not because either of them are particularly beautiful or otherwise desirable in any obvious, vulgar way, but simply because they have both made a commitment to having a life together and to being best friends forever.
At one point, I thought I had that.
There was a time when my spouse was my best friend. I felt like I could tell him anything, and it would never have crossed my mind to lie to him or even to not tell him what was in my head. I mean, I told him everything. Honesty meant a lot to me — still does — and if I care about you, I won’t keep things from you. And I thought he felt the same way. For awhile, I’m pretty sure he did.
I don’t know when that died. I don’t know why, either.
There’s a guy I love and I’m fortunate enough to have his love, too.
Derek has been standing by my side for a really long time, offering me as much support as he could while I made my way through the crucible, offering me his love when I came out the other side. Given my terrible self-image issues, I feel incredibly grateful to have him in my life.
He’s one of the elements of my life that make it something really special most days.
Since he’s self-employed, I get to see him when he’s free. If I don’t get to see him for a few weeks, I find myself missing him terribly.
All of which has left me in something of a quandary.
You see, I’m planning on moving south next summer. Whether I get into graduate school or not, I’m heading south where the gas prices are lower and the winters are less ridiculous. I think I’ll be hearing from the graduate schools very soon, within the next three weeks or so, but whether I get in or not, I am making the move.
The last time I had a vacation and actually went anywhere was in 1985. I had only been married for a little over a year by then, so we had the bright idea of going to Texas so that I could meet my in-laws. It was a memorable trip.
Here are some of my memories, in no particular order:
- I got my very first speeding ticket, which I did not pay — desperate lawbreaker that I am and all.
- I tried to pass some clown on a two-lane highway but he sped up and I ended up off the road due to an oncoming car. The truckers who saw the whole thing harassed that other driver for miles and miles, while others of them gently herded me the rest of the way to my destination. They were real gentlemen.
- I spent about one hour in Mexico. Matamoros, to be specific. I was rendered acutely uncomfortable by the powerful resentment I felt all around me and that none of the other gringos seemed at all aware of.
- I got pregnant during that trip, which resulted in a (repeatedly misdiagnosed) ectopic pregnancy that almost killed me (because of those repeat misdiagnoses). Further consequences ensued.
- I met my father-in-law and his wife, my brother-in-law and his wife, and my spouse’s nieces and nephew. I never saw any of them again.
- My new and beautiful white pumps tore the skin off my heel when I was trying to keep up with my panic-stricken husband as he attempted to get all the way from one side of O’Hare Airport to the other in seven minutes or so. I then watched him discover that missing one’s connecting flight did not condemn one to spend an eternity in some Twilight Zone in airports far from home — especially when it was the fault of the originating airline.
Next week, I will be on vacation from my job and it’ll be the first time since that memorable trip that I am actually going somewhere other than home. I’m hoping that this vacation will be memorable for different reasons.