Posts Tagged ‘life’

First Stop: Gloom City

April 20, 2010

Well, I woke up in a cloud of melancholy today.  And it’s my weekend, to boot. I don’t want to be in a bad mood on my weekend! So, hopfully I can just throw all the moodiness here, get it out of my system and proceed to 48 hours of good times.

I’ve got an Internet friend whose about five years older than me. She’s just finishing up a fellowship, and her parents have come down for a little ceremony thing the school is doing. She’s glad to have them there, but right now, they’re mostly being irritating, which I can completely understand.  Weirdly, I was thinking about her when I woke up and realized never in a million years would my parents ever be able to travel half-way across the country to see me finish a fellowship (journalism fellowship — essentially, you spend a school year taking classes for the hell of it and hopefully go back to your job de-stressed and with new ideas. Not exactly a f0r-credit, get a degree sort of thing).

Setting aside my occasional annoyance that I’ve lived where I live for three years and have been home to visit family four times and plan two more this year and they’ve never been to see me once (setting it aside because they still can’t afford it), it made me think about my first year of college. It was 2001, I was 18, and my grandma drove up with me. It was only 2 hours from home, and my parents eventually showed up, but Grandma was the one who helped me carry stuff up to my room and went to the parents’ orientation meeting and was just there for me in a way they weren’t, and she was always the one in the family that I felt closest to — like we had the most in common. I swear, I got my sense of responsibility from her.

But Grandma died about 3.5 years ago. Now, I’ve never been one of those people who are all “I wake up every day and miss her!” I don’t think about her every day. The days I do are usually fodder for happy memories not balls of sorrow and misery, but today I’m just feeling really sad about it.

So, that’s Thing One. Thing Two stems from the knowledge that, in not quite three weeks, I’ll be getting on a plane and flying back to my hometown for the wedding of a friend I’ve had since middle school (technically earlier, but there was the entire stretch of grade school where we were at separate schools and didn’t see each other).  I’m happy for her, and I know the day is about her and not me, but I wish I wasn’t go there and seeing her for the first time in years while being so huge.

I’ve put on about 40 pounds since I last saw her, and I wasn’t thin to begin with. As a side note, when I came to WordPress, one of the featured posts was “the only thing we need to lose is our obsession with thinness”, and while I agree that there are people for whom the only Pretty is Skinny/Thin and they will do all manner of horrible things to their body to achieve it, and that is a very bad thing, for me, the notion that I was never thin is synonymous with the reality that I was always overweight. And not by a little bit, either.  I was around 180-190 in high school, floated between 200-220 in college and am now 240 on a 5’2″ frame.

I have no desire to be stick-thin. Absolutely none. I just don’t want to be carrying 100 extra pounds of fat on my person. At 140, I would still be overweight a smidge by BMI standards, but I’m fine with that. Hell, I’d probably be fine at 150 or 160.  But 240 and 5’2″ is not “a little heavy” or “knows how to have a good time,  society’s standards of beauty be damned.” 240 at 5’2″ is laziness. It’s whacked priorities. It’s “what the hell do you do?”

It’s embarrassing, and I don’t generally feel shame easily.

And, as if the idea of being the person who just keeps getting fatter weren’t enough to make me feel weird, there’s my personal life. I have no boyfriend, I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’m a 27-year-old virgin and 90 percent of the time, I”m 100 percent fine with that. I love being responsible only for myself and what I want to do. I don’t want to have to think about other people or what they want to do. I don’t want to share my space or my time or my stuff. (Yes, I realize this is all incredibly selfish.)

But the other 10 percent of the time? I think it would be nice to have a companion. Somebody who GOT me, you know? Somebody who made me not mind sharing my space, time and stuff. And then I see so many of the other people I knew in high school on Facebook, and they’ve got kids and are a family and they just seem so much farther along in LIFE than I am. And I’ve got to say, there’s nothing that bothers me more than feeling like I’m being left behind.  Now, generally, that applies to *actually* being left behind as taller, more athletic people who comprise a group I’m supposed to be part of speed off without realizing they’ve left me huffing and puffing and in pain half a block back (*cough*2007 Internship*cough*), but apparently it applies to life stuff, too.

Either way, it’s a confusing and gloomy time.



December 28, 2009

I got up yesterday, my room was bugfree. I had a glass of orange juice, went to work and came home to Antfest 09. Unfortunately, it was one in the morning and I was tired, so I just looked around for where they might hae been coming from, sprayed liberally with Raid and then locked myself and my cat out of the room and slept on the couch.

It looks like between the trip home and the flu I probably won’t meet my December goal of having the whole apartment spic and span by Jan. 1, but this new development has definitely sped of the process, so I’ll be closer.

The Fat Girl and the Plane

December 27, 2009

I fly home to see my family for a week in the summer and a week in the winter.  I’ve made this trip 5 times for a total of 10 plane rides. I don’t usually have much of  a problem with planes. I’ve flown AirTran once and their seatbelts were a little snug and their seats a little narrow but they also have the distinction of being the only airline to have tray tables that actually go all the way down.

Delta, who I usually fly with, their tray tables get about a two-thirds of the way down before hitting the tops of my thighs and being useless.  But I’ve never had a problem with their seats. Until now.

I don’t know if it’s because I somehow found myself on  a leg of one of those weenie connector flights or if it was the food coma I seemed to eat my way into on a daily basis (in between loads of shopping) while at home or what, but this time I barely fit.

If I were a little less stubborn I might have asked for a belt extendor, but it’s amazing what being seated next to a scrawny thing of  a woman will do for the resolve.  I sucked in my gut and tugged on that belt until it felt like I was stretching the material with my own brute strength and it took a few tries, dammit, I got that mother buckled. *

The weird thing is once it was buckled, it was really comfortable. It was like the perfect length for the part of me it was covering.  So, when I got home, I sat down in an armless chair and tried to figure out where the discrepency between getting it fastened and wearing it came in, and I determined this:

It’s not that the belt didn’t fit, it’s just that I am so…thick, I guess, that I actually had to try to fasten it higher than it would normally sit because that’s where my arms would go.

In short, if I get any fatter, I essentially will be a like a T-Rex with my tiny useless arms.  If that’s not an inspiration, I don’t know what is.

Oh, and also? I brought the flu back with me.  I think it’s mostly cleared up now, but I’ve spent the last several days lying around like a lump.  But I’ve probably drank more water in the last two weeks than I’ve drank in the last 2 months, so that’s good I guess.

*Twice, actually, because shortly after I got buckled in, I realized that my cell phone was on in my bag overhead.  I would have just let it go but I couldn’t quite quell my fear of dying in a fiery crash because the $20 phone I got at Walmart flumoxed an airplane.

December Goals, Challenges

December 12, 2009

December’s about halfway over (and it’s December) and I’m traveling out of the state for a week, so I was hesitant to make any sort of fitness/exercise goal for the month.  So, instead I decided to put my focus on a different aspect of life — housework and organization.

I kind of feel like it’s really hard to get your life under control when your home isn’t under control. And my apartment? It’s a chaotic hole at the moment. I’ve been here two and a half years, and I’ve done spot-cleaning here and there, but I’ve never done a really deep get-it-all-done clean on it.  In fact, I’m pretty sure I still have a box or two that haven’t even been completely unpacked, I’ve just opened them up and strewn the contents about until I stumbled across whatever I was looking for.  Granted, I’m planning to move in a few months, so that may be a bit of a blessing, but still.

And it’s not even that my apartment is that big, I’m just lazy. And I get distracted easily. In typing that last sentence, the J key got stuck. After I panicked, I fixed it, and then it became vitally important to slide notebook paper around all the keys and shake the keyboard around (this is what you do when you don’t have cans of air, apparently) in a vain attempt to get all manner of grossness out.  And it was gross.   Soooo much hair.  I’m telling you, if I weren’t afraid I would somehow bring about the end of the world, I would take that thing completely apart and go at it with a vacuum or something.  Well, that and I tried to take it apart once. Got all the screws out, but for some reason…it’s still very much together.

See what I mean about getting distracted? It’s like “post post post KEYBOARD! blah blah blah blah blah…oh, yeah. Post.”

So, my goal for the month is to get this place spic and span from top to bottom.  And since cleaning is one of those areas where baby steps aren’t entirely helpful, my challenge is going to be to pick one day — let’s say my first day off after Christmas — and in that day, I am going to wash every dish in the place. Put simply:

Goal: Clean apartment
Challenge: Day of Dishes