A Long, Long Time Ago, I Can Still Remember

I have a style. It's very causal. I prefer sneakers over any other kind of shoe. I always look like I'm ready to go to the gym. That's how I am comfortable.

I like the colors red, white, black, yellow, green, and pink--in that order. I love collies--I love dogs. I'm not much of cat person.

I give way more than I can really afford--but I don't care. You can't take it with you.

When I make a friend, I keep him or her for a long time. I've known my oldest friend for 42 years. I've worked in the same job for more than 16 years. I've had the same car for more than eight years. I am a creature of habit. It's not easy for me to let go of people I consider my friends. I probably think about them even if I don't see them or talk to them anymore. And I probably miss them.

Here's another big reality: I am afraid. It's been a hard thing for me to admit. I am lonely. But I don't want to get mixed up in another relationship. I miss the people who were once in my life. I miss Al deeply. I can't believe another year has gone by since he died. At the end of October, it will be three years. And I still can't believe that I'm still alive, despite Al being gone. I am not suicidal. If you ever lose your spouse, you'll find that this is a common feeling--it's normal.

I'm writing all of this down because I think if I "get it out," it will help me with whatever it is that's making me eat constantly, and still not be full. Most of the time, even if I am smiling, I feel lost and empty inside. I am prone to emotional outbursts. And I have a dreaded fear that people will just "up and leave me." Sometimes they do. And I think the worst--that people hate me. Sometimes they do.

So I've had five days off. Tomorrow, I go back to same job I've had for more than 16years. I feel somewhat anxious about it. I don't want to go. But someone has to pay the bills.

Birthdays, Hamstrings, and Black Holes

I am now officially 50 years old. I don't feel a day over 102. I spent my birthday with my girls. They are, as always, a hoot. The day was good.

My leg is still stiff and sore. Sometimes I think it's getting better, then in the next breath it starts hurting again. I think I'm just going to have to rest it for a while whether I like it or not. I haven't been to the gym in four days now. But I've read that it could take two weeks. I guess I could still do upper body exercises in the mean time. My leg is swollen now, too. So I guess I've not really taken very good care of it. I better take care of it now, or it will just get worse later.

I watched a program about black holes on NOVA over the weekend. A black hole has so much energy that it can suck anything that gets too close it into its core. I've known people like that--you know, it's the "it's all about me" syndrome. You spend so much time tending to their needs that yours are completely forgotten. And these people usually don't realize that they are the root of their own problems. Anyway. . . .

Scientists now believe that every galaxy has a black hole which may be the energy from which the galaxy began--remnants of a big bang. A big bang is believed to be the implosion of a gigantic star. Anyway, most of the science is completely over my head, but I have general understanding of what they believe has occurred. So why am I bringing this up? Because I have a question. If the universe is finite, what does it make up? But if it infinite, what does that mean? In other words, does it come to some sort of boundary? Or not?

OK.

Well, I do have some errands to run today. And I am 50 now, so it will take me longer than it used to. And that's supposed to be a joke.

Hey Mom. How About Making Some Ice Cream?

OK. PETA wants Ben & Jerry's to make their ice cream out of mother's milk. How many lactating women do think will line up to be milked for that little project?

Anyway, I'm off for the next five days. And I'm going to relax and enjoy it. My 50th birthday is Sunday. As I have said before, I never thought I'd live to see this day. But I guess it ain't actually here yet, is it?

I'm not going to the gym today. I have my bum leg wrapped, and I'm going to rest it until Monday. I may do some yoga at home. I probably should do some yoga. But "rest" is the key word.

I need to have my car's safety inspection renewed. I'm not sure if I'll get around to that today or not. I wish I hadn't put it off until the end of the month. It's going to be hard to find a place that's not too busy to help me. But I got my driver's license ahead of time. So I guess I'm not totally pathetic.

I might have the girls on Sunday--that'll be a nice way to celebrate being 50. I still cannot believe that it's really here. Wow. I have been alive for 50 years. Remarkable. Half a century.

Anyway, I'm going to enjoy lying around and doing nothing today. So later. . . .

How Can I Stop Eating So Much?

I didn't post anything yesterday because I was too busy. Sorry.

I just read a letter I wrote to Al a while ago. It's still hard for me to believe that he's gone. In about five weeks, he will have been dead for three years. It feels like it all happened yesterday. It's all very vivid. And I still cry over him.

I've slowed way down at the gym, and I gotta tell ya. I'm feeling better—not so tired. My leg still hurts, but the stretching is helping.

The diet still sucks, and I think I've probably gained a few pounds—at least that's how it feels. I wish I could sit here and say that I've been eating right. But I can't. Last night, it was all I could do to keep from heating up some french fires that I bought for the girls over the weekend. I didn't do it. But I came very close. I don't know how to get my motivation back. I don't know what it will take.

Well, today promises to be another busy day.

Help. I'm Gonna be 50

OK. I decided maybe I'll stick with my gym. I'd miss seeing my crush if I left—not that anything would ever come of it. But he sure is nice to look at. What's the English equivalent for gggaaahhhh with drool running down my chin?

I wrapped my leg and it seems to help. I'm doing a lot of stretching as well. I only did 30 minutes of cardio this morning followed with the stretching.

The eating is still not where it should be.

Work sucks.

Life is boring.

I'm going to be 50 on Sunday.

I'm old.

I'm tired.

I don't know what I should be doing.

OK. I gotta go to work.

I Can See Stars

Several months ago, I was going to try a diet called Kimkins—I never got around to actually trying it. And thank goodness. I found out that the creator of Kimkins is a fake. She's an obese woman who never lost any weight. She was, however, making top dollar to promote her diet. The diet it turns out is a close-to-starvation diet that could be very dangerous health wise. Look up the information about this diet before you try it. It is not, I repeat, not a good idea.

So today is the first day of fall. It feels like fall. I like early fall weather. But I hate it when it starts getting cold. I'm not a fan of winter.

My hamstring injury still has me somewhat incapacitated. I'm not sure how to treat it. I'm taking ibuprofen. I'm not working it nearly as hard. In fact, it hurts too much to work it any harder than I am. I passed by the weights today so I wouldn't strain it any further. May be I should wrap it.

This weekend, my dog hit me in the eye. How, you ask, could a dog hit someone in the eye? Well, it was pretty easy as it turns out. I kept trying to get my niece not to play in the bottom of the yard because that's Chance's potty. So, of course, she didn't listen to me—and she stepped in poop. So I was leaning down trying to wipe the poop off of her shoe, when Chance came running at us—I wasn't looking but I could hear him coming. He plowed his way between us and, pow, he slammed his big, long nose right into my eye. Well, not right into my eye. It was more slightly above my eye, but that's not the point. When he hit me, stars flashed before me. I grabbed my head, and I couldn't see for minute. I was quite a wallop. And I have this big knot over my left eye.

Lately I have been hit in head four times. Why? Is the universe trying to give me a concussion?

The diet still isn't going all that well. I don't know. I'm trying to fill a void, I guess.

Well, it's off to the salt mines.

Talk Like a Pirate

September 19 is officially Talk Like a Pirate Day. It's September 19 every year. So if ye ain't talkin' like a pirate, ye should.

So it appears that yet another trainer was fired at my gym. And he, too, was one of my favorites. But it was his own fault. He kept over sleeping and missed training some folks that had paid a fairly hefty price for a personal trainer. Still, I'm gonna miss him.

The girls are coming again this Saturday. I can't believe their mother trusts me with them again—I mean after The Monkey Attack and all. And the girls are excited to be coming. The weather is supposed to be nice, so at least they will be able to play outside.

I did 45 minutes on an elliptical this morning. And then I did like 50 sit ups and I stretched. Next week I'll get back into doing the intervals again. I'm hoping that they will start the aerobics class back up next month. If not, there really isn't much reason for me to stay with this particular gym. I'm used to going there and all, but none of the trainers I started with are there anymore. The nutritionist is, well, let's just say she needs some experience. And the whole thing just isn't what it used to be. I miss the aerobics instructor. I consider her a friend. I have nothing to look forward to when I get there in the morning. So why not go someplace closer to my job? I mean really.

I'm getting kind of tired of writing this blog, too. I'd rather start another one and not use my real name so I can talk about things that really bother me—and I don't have to worry about pissing anybody off. I keep saying I'm going to do that, but I haven't. So will I ever? Who knows for sure.

I will be 50 years old in nine days. It makes me appreciate old folks more—now that I am one.

I think that's it for today.

How do I get past a set point?

Well, I actually left the house today. So I guess that's one success. I went to the gym, I did 35 minutes on an elliptical and then I did some sit ups and used a medicine ball for a while. I am so bored with trying to figure out what to do by myself. And I have a hamstring injury. No I'm not going to quit. I've come too far for that. I just need to figure out how to get past a set point.

I've been at the same weight for a really long time now. I don't know how to get past it. I keep thinking there must be some secret out there that I don't know about. I guess I'll have to increase my exercise intensity and cut out eating too much. I know I'm eating way too much. I guess the first step is in admitting it. Fortunately I'm not eating a bunch of crap. I am overeating things that are good for me. I don't know if that's a good thing or not.

My right index finger has a big bump in the first knuckle. I think it's related to arthritis, but it might be a bone spur. All I know is that I've wanted to take a hammer and smash it. I know that would only make things worse—but man sometimes it bugs me.

Not much else is going on. So until tomorrow. . . .

P.S. Has anyone heard of the Shangri La Diet?

Obsession

I just finished eating apple slices with way too much peanut butter on them. I am mentally exhausted. And I think I'm becoming agoraphobic. That's the phobia where you don't want to leave your house, isn't it? I need to go buy dog food, but I'm so very tired. And the thought of "going out there" is making me cringe.

I've worn myself ragged worrying about things that I can't do anything about. But that's what I do. I cannot be responsible for what someone else does or doesn't do. Some people are just not very trustworthy. That's the long and short of it, as my dear departed mother used to say. But I worry nonetheless. Actually I obsess.

I've taken the past couple of weeks to reevaluate myself. And I've come to some conclusions about me. I'm obessive compulsive--meaning I compulsively do things and then obsess about them. I've been obsessing about at least two things for this entire month, and now I'm physically sick. I have a headache. My stomach is churning. My neck is stiff. And you know what? My obsessing hasn't helped either thing.

The Monkey Attack

Where do I begin? The past weekend was, well, I'm not quite sure. It started going wrong Friday evening. I stopped by the grocery store, and when I went to get back in my car, I hit my head so hard on the door frame that it left a bump. OK. I should've just gone home and got into bed and stayed there, but I didn't. Saturday I was watching the two little nieces. My brother and I decided to take them to this little zoo in a rural area close to here. And it should've been just fine. But. . . . .

The Oldest One wanted to feed some monkeys and went rushing up to the cage. One of the monkeys reached through the bars and grabbed her by the hair. I start screaming, "Oh my God." And yelling her name. My brother runs up and pries the monkey's hands from her hair, scoops her up, and brings her back to safety. (I'm obviously no good in a real moment of panic.) I start looking her over to make sure there's no real damage. She appeared to be OK—just missing a little hair. Within 10 minutes, though, she had recovered and wanted to go see the rest of the animals. I'm not sure I would be OK yet. This incident will hereafter be known as The Monkey Attack.

Once we left the zoo, we decided to go shopping. The Mall was OK, but The Little One was beginning to run a fever. So we went to get some medicine for her. I wanted to go ahead and give her a dose, so I was going to sit down in the front seat of the car with her. I had her in my arms, and I started to sit down when I slammed my head into the door frame of car again. But this time my head was knocked forward and I smashed my nose into The Little One's chin. Now she's got a boo boo on her chin, and I've got boo boos on the back and front of my head. I should've realized The Monkey Attack was an omen. We finally made it home at about 9:30 p.m. and just went to bed.

How often can you say a monkey attacked you? Not often, I don't think.

So my weekend consisted of slamming my head into car-door frames and witnessing monkey attacks. Through this, I managed to be at least somewhat careful about what I ate. And all of the walking did me good, too.

Say Cheese

My dog was sick for a couple of days. I had to put flea stuff on him, and every time, it makes him sick. I got up yesterday morning, and he'd crapped all over the house. Nice. I figured, there's no way this day is going to get any better, so I took the day off. 

I'm getting really bored at the gym with the lack of variety. If they don't get an aerobics class back in the morning soon, I will have to find another gym. WVU's Rec Center is right over the hill from my office. It would be more convenient. And they have classes in the morning. 

I have arthritis in the knuckle of my index finger on my right hand. And it hurts. 

I had to get my driver's license renewed. Why do they always wait until you have the goofiest expression on your face to take the photo? Now, I have to carry this God awful thing around with me for five years. It's like, "Look at the camera." Click. "Next."

And I'm like, "Hey, I wasn't ready." But it's too late. The license is already spitting out of the machine. 

One thing I figured out, though. If you go to the DMV in the middle of the month rather than waiting until the end of the month, it goes a lot faster. 

OK my finger is really hurting today. So that's all folks.

The Amish Got It Goin' On

I got on The Scale this morning, and it turned out it wasn't so bad--I mean for someone who has been paying little attention to what she's eating. The Scale has a tendency to rule the way I feel the day I weigh myself. If The Scale says something good about me, I'm fine. But if The Scale says something bad, my day is ruined.

What's that? The Scale is an inanimate object that couldn't possible say things about me. You lie. The Scale says things about me all of time. The Scale calls me a fat pig with no control. Yes, it does.

OK. OK. So it's really me who says those about me. But it still doesn't mean that The Scale isn't involved in some kind of conspiracy against me, and Oliver Stone is just waiting for the movie rights.

My horoscope this month says that one of friends might disappoint me and this disappointment might lead to a parting of the ways. I thought, "Yeah sure." Who would disappoint me? If I had waited a couple of days, I would've known. There she goes being vague and cryptic again.

According to a new study done on Amish people--that's right I said Amish people--it's possible to beat the fat gene by being moderately active for three to four hours a day. I'm already moderately active for at least an hour, and it wears me out. And Amish people work all day long.

I once had a job cleaning hotel rooms during the summer before I started college. I could eat virtually anything I wanted because I was exercising eight hours a day. But I am no where near that kind a shape now. I guess I could work up to it. But the thought. . . .

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

This morning I got the bright Idea to take some hot tea along with me. I didn't have one of those thermal cups so I decided to use a water bottle—the kind that you turn upside down to drink out of. Well, I ended up getting a face full of hot tea and I snorked part of it up my nose. Nice.

It's harder to get up in the morning. It's dark. And today it was storming. The perfect day to stay in bed. I thought about it for an extra 15 minutes, but finally got up and went to the gym. Apparently others were thinking the same way because there was virtually no one there—that made finding a machine to workout on fairly easy. I did 30 minutes on the treadmill and 25 minutes on the elliptical. It's hard exercising alone. It gets boring. Ce'st la vie.

Today should be about as boring as it can get, so maybe I'll write more later.

Alone Again Naturally

by Gilbert O'Sullivan



In a little while from now,
If I'm not feeling any less sour.
I promised myself, to treat myself,
And visit a nearby tower ..........
And climbing to the top,
Would throw myself off,
In an effort to, make clear to whoever,
What it's like when you're shattered .......
Left standing in the lurch,
At a church where people are saying .....
My God, that's tough, she stood him up,
No point in us remaining .......
We may as well go home,
As I did on my own,
Alone again, naturally.

To think that only yesterday,
I was cheerful, bright and gay.
Looking forward to, and who wouldn’t do,
The role I was about to play.
But as if to knock me down,
Reality came around,
And without so much as a mere touch,
Cut me into little pieces.
Leaving me to doubt, all about God and His mercy,
Oh, if He really does exist,
Why did He desert me?
And in my hour of need,
I truely am, indeed,
Alone again, naturally.

It seems to me that there are more hearts,
Broken in the world that can’t be mended,
Left unattended, what do we do?
What do we do?

Now looking back over the years,
And whatever else that appears.
I remember I cried when my father died,
Never wishing to hide the tears.
At sixty-five years old,
My mother, God rest her soul,
Couldn’t understand why the only man,
She had ever loved had been taken.
Leaving her to start, with a heart so badly broken,
Despite encouragement from me,
No words were ever spoken.
And when she passed away,
I cried and cried all day,
Alone again, naturally.

AARP Wants Me

Well, it's official. I'm old. I got a letter from AARP in the mail yesterday letting me know that I could join for a mere $12.95 and enjoy all of the benefits of membership. What a wonderful time to be 50. I wonder if Madonna and Michael Jackson got letters, too?

My stomach feels sick because I ate two pieces of zucchini bread and a very large brownie. I feel like I'm going to hurl. Gak. I undid all of my hard work from this morning. Spending an hour and a half exercising doesn't make sense if I'm going to blow it eating crap. 

I was talking to another girl at the gym today who has also plateaued. She said the weight just won't budge.  I don't know if she also ate two pieces of zucchini bread and a very large brownie today, though. But reality is that it isn't just today. 

I look at myself, and I look much better. I'm still toning up. Today I had a huge amount of energy—which I've kind of put the kibosh on with my eating. Now I feel like going to sleep. I still have a bulging midsection, though. And that bothers me more than anything else. I'd like to have the aerobics class back. We were doing a lot of sit ups in there. And it was helping. Maybe if we do get it back, the increased intensity of the exercise will help. Maybe sooner or later, something will help. 

Being stuck for so long has made me not care what I put in my mouth at times. I still go for the healthier choices (hey, isn't that a brand name?). But sometimes I falter—like today. So that's where I stand. 

The weekend is here. And that's a good thing. I'm ready to relax. 

Comedy and Shenanigans

I'm really tired this morning. I was out late last night at a comedy show. So it's gonna be a long day.

I got up late this morning so I only worked out for about 45 minutes and did some stretching. I did get to fill out an evaluation about the gym today. I said I want the 6:15 a.m. aerobics to resume. But who knows. 

I have to go to court with my niece this morning. Even though her ex is going to jail soon, he still finds time to harass her. So she's trying to get a restraining order. God, I am so sick of this. I have been to court in three different states because of his shenanigans. Enough is enough. 

So this day will be something—what I'm not sure. I'm just sick of it. 

I'm Expecting Something

Last night I dreamed I was pregnant again. I've had this dream a couple of times now. It's kind of weird. I couldn't believe I was pregnant. I keep thinking, "How can this be? I'm 50 years old. How can I get pregnant when I'm menopausal?" 

Then this guy comes up to me and says, "Is it sore around your belly button?"

I say, "Yes."

He says, "Then you're pregnant." 

OK. I begin to accept that I'm pregnant—even if the pregnancy test is a little odd. So what is it that I'm expecting? Something that I thought was an impossibility. At first it's kind of scary, but then I accept that it's real. I'm going to give birth. To what? That may sound like an odd question, but I have no idea what it is that I'm currently incubating. What's growing inside me? What I'm sure of is that I don't know.

 

Today I'm really hungry. It's going to  be hard to contain my appetite. I guess that goes along with being pregnant. At least I have an excuse. I'm kidding, of course.

The long weekend was welcome. I could use a few more. Tonight I'm going to a comedy show. Ralphie May is coming to Morgantown. This should be fun. 

I hit the gym again this morning. I did the intensive interval workout. Today it was hard after the long break. But I managed it get through it. 

And tomorrow will be another day.