Yesterday we drove with friends to Coeur D' Alene to visit some folks that live there. The day was totally hectic and I had lots to observe. His friends were different than the type of people I usually find myself surrounded by. Nice and well meaning, though not very "PC." The whole crew ventured out for lunch and a bit of shopping. I was so excited that everyone was more than willing to accommodate my request to check out the LYS I'd googled before leaving Missoula, even if they did end up staying outside most of the time. "My" guy, however, stayed in the store with me, suggesting yarns and appearing to truly enjoy the experience. I appreciated his height - he found some glass needles (like I've been wanting to try forever!) on top of a shelf in a basket. We picked out a pair and he bought them for me. He is so generous and thoughtful. He always opens doors and treats me sweetly. Later last night, the crew ended up playing two heated games of Trivial Pursuit. By the end, I was totally over it. Everyone else was very competitive, and I found myself growing weary of the animosity, friendly as it may have been. "My" guy was looking very tired (he's been working and traveling quite a bit lately), and I was happy he wanted to get a quiet hotel room for the night. It was a great relief to have some down time after such a long day. We had a chance to talk and "stuff," and I found myself opening up a little more. This morning we laid about and talked and laughed. As the day progressed, I felt closer and closer to him. The way I look at him seems to be changing a bit. I like him. A lot. I have this weird little feeling in my stomach (or is it chest?) when I think about him. It's like I'm allergic to him or something - but in a good way. I've been making jokes about my feelings for so long, that not joking about them makes me a wee bit nervous. So lets face it - I'm kind of scared. Because I know what this is - this feeling and this interaction. Usually I'm so afraid of it that I never let it get this far. Still here I am, and as scary as it may be - as dangerous and unpredictable as these relationship thingies get-I feel like I want to keep going with this. My hand looks promising, and I think I'll check. Hell, I might even raise the pot.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Don't Jinx It!
This is totally secret, okay? Don't go blabbing around that I care or that I've mentioned anything at all. There's this guy. He's really intriguing. At first I was pretty stand offish about him - thinking he was my typical type: Mr. Unavailable. But he keeps coming around. He stays in touch. I'm still not sure about some of the things he says - various references with long term implications. I don't trust that shit. But I am starting to trust him.
Yesterday we drove with friends to Coeur D' Alene to visit some folks that live there. The day was totally hectic and I had lots to observe. His friends were different than the type of people I usually find myself surrounded by. Nice and well meaning, though not very "PC." The whole crew ventured out for lunch and a bit of shopping. I was so excited that everyone was more than willing to accommodate my request to check out the LYS I'd googled before leaving Missoula, even if they did end up staying outside most of the time. "My" guy, however, stayed in the store with me, suggesting yarns and appearing to truly enjoy the experience. I appreciated his height - he found some glass needles (like I've been wanting to try forever!) on top of a shelf in a basket. We picked out a pair and he bought them for me. He is so generous and thoughtful. He always opens doors and treats me sweetly. Later last night, the crew ended up playing two heated games of Trivial Pursuit. By the end, I was totally over it. Everyone else was very competitive, and I found myself growing weary of the animosity, friendly as it may have been. "My" guy was looking very tired (he's been working and traveling quite a bit lately), and I was happy he wanted to get a quiet hotel room for the night. It was a great relief to have some down time after such a long day. We had a chance to talk and "stuff," and I found myself opening up a little more. This morning we laid about and talked and laughed. As the day progressed, I felt closer and closer to him. The way I look at him seems to be changing a bit. I like him. A lot. I have this weird little feeling in my stomach (or is it chest?) when I think about him. It's like I'm allergic to him or something - but in a good way. I've been making jokes about my feelings for so long, that not joking about them makes me a wee bit nervous. So lets face it - I'm kind of scared. Because I know what this is - this feeling and this interaction. Usually I'm so afraid of it that I never let it get this far. Still here I am, and as scary as it may be - as dangerous and unpredictable as these relationship thingies get-I feel like I want to keep going with this. My hand looks promising, and I think I'll check. Hell, I might even raise the pot.
Yesterday we drove with friends to Coeur D' Alene to visit some folks that live there. The day was totally hectic and I had lots to observe. His friends were different than the type of people I usually find myself surrounded by. Nice and well meaning, though not very "PC." The whole crew ventured out for lunch and a bit of shopping. I was so excited that everyone was more than willing to accommodate my request to check out the LYS I'd googled before leaving Missoula, even if they did end up staying outside most of the time. "My" guy, however, stayed in the store with me, suggesting yarns and appearing to truly enjoy the experience. I appreciated his height - he found some glass needles (like I've been wanting to try forever!) on top of a shelf in a basket. We picked out a pair and he bought them for me. He is so generous and thoughtful. He always opens doors and treats me sweetly. Later last night, the crew ended up playing two heated games of Trivial Pursuit. By the end, I was totally over it. Everyone else was very competitive, and I found myself growing weary of the animosity, friendly as it may have been. "My" guy was looking very tired (he's been working and traveling quite a bit lately), and I was happy he wanted to get a quiet hotel room for the night. It was a great relief to have some down time after such a long day. We had a chance to talk and "stuff," and I found myself opening up a little more. This morning we laid about and talked and laughed. As the day progressed, I felt closer and closer to him. The way I look at him seems to be changing a bit. I like him. A lot. I have this weird little feeling in my stomach (or is it chest?) when I think about him. It's like I'm allergic to him or something - but in a good way. I've been making jokes about my feelings for so long, that not joking about them makes me a wee bit nervous. So lets face it - I'm kind of scared. Because I know what this is - this feeling and this interaction. Usually I'm so afraid of it that I never let it get this far. Still here I am, and as scary as it may be - as dangerous and unpredictable as these relationship thingies get-I feel like I want to keep going with this. My hand looks promising, and I think I'll check. Hell, I might even raise the pot.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Public Flogging of Fat Myths!
I was getting ready to go to a "function" this evening where I would be meeting some people I'd never met before. I was tired. I was down. The thought of being friendly and outgoing to a group of strangers did not appeal to me, but I had already submitted my RSVP, and felt somewhat obligated to participate. I thought perhaps I could make myself a drink, suck it up, and get out there...until I started getting dressed. As I sorted through my apparel collection, and found several pairs of pants that couldn't be buttoned, I noticed a small obnoxious voice surface at the back of my consciousness. What? What was that, o' love of my life? You kind and generous spirit without form? Turns out the little voice agreed that I should not participate in the evening's scheduled activities because (get this) I'm too fat to meet new people. The funny - and I do mean hilarious - thing about this was it's striking similarity to other thoughts I've had. Why this very afternoon I pondered going into a store I was passing where I knew there were fellow knitters inside. Then I realized some of them had not seen me in a while, and they might notice how much weight I'd gained. I walked right by the entrance.
Clearly my plan of trying to metamorphose my self talk from "OMG, I'm the fatest I've ever been" into "Well, this may be the thinnest I'll ever be again" has not worked as planned. Nor have several other attempts at making peace with this onslaught of poundage. I kind of understand that the Thyroid thing is to blame, yet I find myself telling anyone within ear shot that I ride my bike everywhere, and I eat reasonably healthy with average portions. And god forbid I should want some fries - oh boy. Tsk Tsk Tsk. I am constantly aware of what I order at restaurants and consistently preoccupied with noting all the new little bumps under my skin where the fat is hiding . I find myself to be losing self confidence even faster than I'm putting on the pounds. So what does one say to this? Well, clearly one must mock it. One must speak out and reveal the ridiculousness of the claims little voice has made! In this vein, I expose the following bull shit arguments and ask you all, dear readers, to join me in their public denouncement!
1) People look at you and think you're disgusting.
2) You've become "one of those fat people with too many tattoos" who, in a last ditch effort to make themselves attractive splattered ink all over the place - hoping to distract others from their size.
3) Big girls are not sexy. Once you're beyond "Curvy," time to turn out the lights. Any suitors should be viewed with suspicion as they probably are just indulging in their fetish. Oh - and it's granny panties from here on out.
Clearly my plan of trying to metamorphose my self talk from "OMG, I'm the fatest I've ever been" into "Well, this may be the thinnest I'll ever be again" has not worked as planned. Nor have several other attempts at making peace with this onslaught of poundage. I kind of understand that the Thyroid thing is to blame, yet I find myself telling anyone within ear shot that I ride my bike everywhere, and I eat reasonably healthy with average portions. And god forbid I should want some fries - oh boy. Tsk Tsk Tsk. I am constantly aware of what I order at restaurants and consistently preoccupied with noting all the new little bumps under my skin where the fat is hiding . I find myself to be losing self confidence even faster than I'm putting on the pounds. So what does one say to this? Well, clearly one must mock it. One must speak out and reveal the ridiculousness of the claims little voice has made! In this vein, I expose the following bull shit arguments and ask you all, dear readers, to join me in their public denouncement!
1) People look at you and think you're disgusting.
2) You've become "one of those fat people with too many tattoos" who, in a last ditch effort to make themselves attractive splattered ink all over the place - hoping to distract others from their size.
3) Big girls are not sexy. Once you're beyond "Curvy," time to turn out the lights. Any suitors should be viewed with suspicion as they probably are just indulging in their fetish. Oh - and it's granny panties from here on out.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Where am I?
I've been told I should start blogging. How embarrassing! I've outed myself as yet another closet writer in the sea of wannabees. Anyway - I just got back from CA. I took some notes on my host family of five adults, one (my) pre teen birth daughter, and a two year old little girl:
This house is a war zone. Dirty. Wasted. Sacrificed to the go go go that is California. Walking barefoot is sure to blacken my feet upon initial contact, and I collect small flecks of hard, sticky food with each additional step. Every kitchen drawer swaggers lazily off a broken track with a bottom coated by slimy film-an ode to every former culinary experiment tested on the counter surface above. Towels are strewn about soggy and smelling of the mildew soon to be visible. I washed dishes. I mopped the floor. I did numerous loads of laundry, but soon, I too, succumbed to the insurmountable wasteland. I could only accept these truths:
1)There will be no toilet paper. There are several packages in the hall closet, but none in any of the bathrooms. The person who uses the last of it cannot be expected to replace it.
2)If you put it down, and you have not adequately hidden it, it will be gone when you return. And not because the two year old moved it. Should you be lucky enough to locate it, it will most likely be soiled, broken, sandy and/or unravelled by the time you find it.
3)Your plans to leave the house are futile. No individual is responsible for their keys or gasoline tank, thus anyone's car is subject to confiscation should it be "needed" due to someone else's misplacement of keys or lack of gasoline. Please be advised that all plans involving transportation are subject to vehicle availability.
4) Cats can hear you. If you are trying to set a trap for a Ferrel cat who has inflicted wounds on the host family's beloved house cats, forcing the owner to incur high vet costs, it is best to do so in the neighbors backyard. But if you do, be SURE to not watch the cat as it approaches said trap (even if observing from a well removed upstairs window), and to not speak too loudly (though all storm windows are shut tight) because the cat can HEAR you. It is also psychic and will not take the bait because you scared it off by watching! Hocus, pocus Discovery Channel...
5) We shall starve before we go Non-Organic! There is enough change lying about the house for a month of groceries. Food is left out to rot. Children are presented with full sized portions , most of which gets thrown away. Numerous times the "Lack of Funds" subject is raised, and I can't help but see every electric light on, every drive to the next town for a single item, the four dollar organic strawberry basket, the laptops, the cell phones, the top of the line everything...
6)The Matriarch is the Princess. The Lady of the house WILL NOT:
Clean. Ever. Come home if she doesn't want too. Adjust her plans. Accommodate guests. Touch her pets. Leave an allergy undiagnosed or unexplained. Take one for the team. Be considerate. Make a decision and stick with it. Give her undivided attention. Take responsibility. Prepare dinner for anyone but herself. Contemplate opinions contrary to her own. Take note of her own hypocrisy.
7) First come, First served. Anything you see, smell, touch or want must be had immediately. Should you require a clean bowl, a cup of coffee, a shower, CARPE DIEM! Once you have obtained what cannot be shared, busy yourself so as not to hear the whinery of the proverbial late bird. The only observed exception to this policy appears to be Rice Milk.
All in all it has been a fine trip. BD (birth daughter) and I managed to lay claim to a vehicle and run out to catch a movie. We had our knitting time and our cuddle time. She made me laugh when I least expected it and when I most needed it and several times in between. The fog visited in ernest one night, though I realized I'd made it much more beautiful in my mind (still, it beats the heck out of the MT summer heat). BD and her im-ing computer seem like they'll survive until I can manage to pull together enough funds for the next trip - hopefully she can come to me for that one. As of this writing, I am ready to pop some pills, hop a plane, and get home to the big eMpTy where my friends are, where the people are kind, where I live with my cat, where I feel most at home...
This house is a war zone. Dirty. Wasted. Sacrificed to the go go go that is California. Walking barefoot is sure to blacken my feet upon initial contact, and I collect small flecks of hard, sticky food with each additional step. Every kitchen drawer swaggers lazily off a broken track with a bottom coated by slimy film-an ode to every former culinary experiment tested on the counter surface above. Towels are strewn about soggy and smelling of the mildew soon to be visible. I washed dishes. I mopped the floor. I did numerous loads of laundry, but soon, I too, succumbed to the insurmountable wasteland. I could only accept these truths:
1)There will be no toilet paper. There are several packages in the hall closet, but none in any of the bathrooms. The person who uses the last of it cannot be expected to replace it.
2)If you put it down, and you have not adequately hidden it, it will be gone when you return. And not because the two year old moved it. Should you be lucky enough to locate it, it will most likely be soiled, broken, sandy and/or unravelled by the time you find it.
3)Your plans to leave the house are futile. No individual is responsible for their keys or gasoline tank, thus anyone's car is subject to confiscation should it be "needed" due to someone else's misplacement of keys or lack of gasoline. Please be advised that all plans involving transportation are subject to vehicle availability.
4) Cats can hear you. If you are trying to set a trap for a Ferrel cat who has inflicted wounds on the host family's beloved house cats, forcing the owner to incur high vet costs, it is best to do so in the neighbors backyard. But if you do, be SURE to not watch the cat as it approaches said trap (even if observing from a well removed upstairs window), and to not speak too loudly (though all storm windows are shut tight) because the cat can HEAR you. It is also psychic and will not take the bait because you scared it off by watching! Hocus, pocus Discovery Channel...
5) We shall starve before we go Non-Organic! There is enough change lying about the house for a month of groceries. Food is left out to rot. Children are presented with full sized portions , most of which gets thrown away. Numerous times the "Lack of Funds" subject is raised, and I can't help but see every electric light on, every drive to the next town for a single item, the four dollar organic strawberry basket, the laptops, the cell phones, the top of the line everything...
6)The Matriarch is the Princess. The Lady of the house WILL NOT:
Clean. Ever. Come home if she doesn't want too. Adjust her plans. Accommodate guests. Touch her pets. Leave an allergy undiagnosed or unexplained. Take one for the team. Be considerate. Make a decision and stick with it. Give her undivided attention. Take responsibility. Prepare dinner for anyone but herself. Contemplate opinions contrary to her own. Take note of her own hypocrisy.
7) First come, First served. Anything you see, smell, touch or want must be had immediately. Should you require a clean bowl, a cup of coffee, a shower, CARPE DIEM! Once you have obtained what cannot be shared, busy yourself so as not to hear the whinery of the proverbial late bird. The only observed exception to this policy appears to be Rice Milk.
All in all it has been a fine trip. BD (birth daughter) and I managed to lay claim to a vehicle and run out to catch a movie. We had our knitting time and our cuddle time. She made me laugh when I least expected it and when I most needed it and several times in between. The fog visited in ernest one night, though I realized I'd made it much more beautiful in my mind (still, it beats the heck out of the MT summer heat). BD and her im-ing computer seem like they'll survive until I can manage to pull together enough funds for the next trip - hopefully she can come to me for that one. As of this writing, I am ready to pop some pills, hop a plane, and get home to the big eMpTy where my friends are, where the people are kind, where I live with my cat, where I feel most at home...
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