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Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Full

I'm loathe to admit that I'm one of those stupid women who has spent countless hours, weeks and months of my life worrying about losing 5 pounds. I've lost and gained the same 5-10 lbs at least 100 times in my life and have been on every diet plan from grapefruit to Weight Watchers. Embarrassing, I know.

Something unexpected has happened in the past few weeks --- and without an extra spin class, diet pills, protein loading, or cutting my glycemic index --- I've been losing weight. In fact, I've lost about 3 lbs in the past 3 weeks. This is big news in Diet Country.

Why the weight loss? A strange thing has happened lately. I'm just not that hungry. I'm certainly eating my three square every day, but I'm not really interested in munchies, multiple desserts or any of the usual suspects.

Why? The answer is surprising. I feel full. Not physically full so much - although I'm not hungry - but emotionally full. I feel that things are falling into place. I haven't seen all of the pieces of the puzzle, and I don't know what picture they'll form, but I know that the box in front of me contains all of the pieces and that it will be a beautiful picture.

Damn, I wonder if I can package this and sell in to Jenny Craig. There are millions to be made here...

Sunday, February 15, 2009

The Angry Cupid

When I was in college some of my friends invented The Angry Cupid, an imaginary character who would go around shooting happy couples in the arse with a dart gun. Somehow I don't think this concept would be such big hit with the college shootings as of late, but it was damn funny in the nineties.

I'm single at the moment and can honestly say that I don't mind Valentine's Day and the pervasive love songs, candy hearts, flower ads, and romantic restaurant specials that follow. What I do mind is all of the people who make comments about 'feeling sorry' for single people on Valentine's Day. For the love of God people, get over it.

The absolute worst Valentine's Day I've ever had was not when I was single, but four years ago when I was in the relationship that was supposedly The Big Kahuna. It was our first V-Day together and we decided to do something meaningful, rather than commercial. Deep, right? I spent several weeks putting together a compilation of our relationship thus far: our first e-mails, a timeline of our relationship, and a meaningful letter. I'm no Martha Stewart, but I have to say it was good. And what did he do in return? Absolutely nothing. Not even a card. And then two days later he sent me a box of firesale dark chocolate. I don't eat dark chocolate, it gives me a headache. That was rock bottom.

A year later I spent pre-Valentine's week trying to think up a way to get out of the relationship that came post-Big Kahuna. I knew if I didn't get out before V-Day it could get ugly. I spent that Valentine's Day locked in my condo with the phone off the hook, relishing my reclaimed singlehood.

I know that Valentine's Day is a Hallmark holiday, but I'll admit that I like it anyway. When I'm in a good relationship, I actually look forward to writing a sappy letter, cooking a special dinner, and buying into the cheesiness that Valentine's Day demands. But I spent this Valentine's Day en route back from my good friend's 40th birthday bash and spent the evening in, recovering from the party and working on house projects. Cupid isn't angry, he's just on vacation --- and that's okay with me, I need the break.

Friday, February 13, 2009

The Tear Down

This morning I woke up at 3:30am and couldn't go back to sleep. Why, you ask? Because I'm buzzing on adrenaline 24/7.

Lets assume this is a kinahurra-free zone, which allows me to say that I feel like Life is heading in a really positive direction. In fact, yesterday as I was driving to work I started worrying about the baby project. High blood pressure-style worrying. Before I could rev it up above 140/80, I glanced up and saw a huge rainbow in the sky. I suddenly knew that everything would be okay and the fear instantly dissolved.

(Believe me, I know this last paragraph sounds very 'Strawberry Shortcake meets Holly Hobby', but I'm not kidding).

Now that my overall anxiety has lifted, it makes me realize how pervasive that anxiety once was. And if you're anxious all of the time, even if you're faking it fairly effectively, it seeps through your pores like yesterday's tequila chaser. You can smell it, other people can smell it, and it affects your performance in life. It can also lead to a massive hangover --- oh wait, thats just the tequila.

Back to this morning .... I had so much spare time that I took a walk over to my new condo. The entire kitchen has already been ripped out and cleared out. The closets have been ripped out. The place is a bit messy right now; but what I really see (aside from dust, dirt, and an old refrigerator in the living room) is a great foundation, a fresh start, and the potential for a brilliant future.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Rational Thought Has Left The Building

I'm much more of a realist than a romantic. And I'm more science than science fiction. So how can the following be true?

About ten years ago I was in a bar with a friend of mine, in deep conversation about nothing much. The door opened and a group of guys walked in ... and then I saw him. I'd never seen him before, it was as though I'd seen him a million times. He saw me, I saw him see me, and my friend cranked her neck around to see why I almost fell off my bar stool. 'I went to high school with him', she said in semi-disgust (any mention of high school brought about this reaction). And then he walked over. They said hi, she introduced me, and we jumped right into conversation. I felt like I'd known him forever.

He eventually went back to his friends and I pretended to hear what my friend was saying for the next hour. But mostly all I heard was the waves of estrogen crashing into my brain.

The next day I googled his phone number and called him at work. A bold move, even for me. We spoke for a few minutes and I asked him out for a drink. "Wow, I'm so flattered. I'm really flattered. But I'm kind of seeing someone --- no, I am seeing someone. But I would have loved to. I'm really flattered." And I believed him.

Our paths have crossed dozens of times over the years. He married that someone and they have a child together.

I saw him the other day and that feeling of familiarity burned brighter than ever. I hope he is happy and would never dream of interfering in his life, and I'm certain he feels the same. If he felt or acted differently, it would be a disappointment. And yet I feel certain that our path has not crossed for the last time.

Maybe we knew each other in a past life, or maybe we'll meet again in a future one. All I know is that I'm in no hurry to figure it all out. And meanwhile, my friend says, "You're really hot for this guy? Because when I look at him I see some middle-aged lawyer from my high school class. Huh."

Sunday, February 8, 2009

The Planets Align

There are a few sayings that bug the shit out of me. "It is what it is", is in the top ten. "We'll have to agree to disagree" is right up there. Until recently, "Everything happens for a reason", was tied for Most Annoying and Dumb and Dumber ... but lately, I've had to take a hard second look at this phrase.

First, let me say that I absolutely do not believe that EVERYTHING happens for a reason. When I was in high school a guy in my town was minding his own business, driving home from work and a limb snapped off an overhead tree and rammed through his windshield. He was killed instantly. Some insensitive schmucks around town started blabbering crap like, "Wow, he must have done something really bad to deserve that." Really? is that how life works? I don't think so. Lots of bad things happen to good people. And lots of assholes get more than they deserve. The same is true with illness. Many really good people have bad luck. And a lot of SOBs live long, healthy lives.

Now that my disclaimers are out there, new data just in suggest that sometimes unforeseen delays, detours, disappointments and plot twists may not be dead ends. If you keep on truckin', hang in there, take an alternate route and bash on, you may actually find yourself in a better place than even originally planned. It is hard to believe that your envisioned Mecca could be outdone, but sometimes its true. And maybe its even worth the heartbreak and the wait. Maybe. And maybe sometimes when you've been through hell and feel like your guardian angel went out for a very long smoke, the planets align. And maybe you realize that the mass confusion and background noise suddenly quiet, and that the future looks bright. So bright that you've got to wear shades.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Landmarks

My college roommate turned 40 last week and I attended a fab 80s style party at her house last weekend, at which I saw her sister, her book club friends, and her sister-in-law --- a true blast from the past. It got me thinking about our lives so far, and my own 40th birthday coming up in a few months.

When we were seniors in college, my applications to graduate school were all in by January, and I was accepted in April. Therefore, spring term was really a formality for me and I took a few BS classes to fulfill my last requirements. The week before finals all of my friends were studying, and I was playing hookey (per usual) and enjoying the long-awaited spring weather in upstate NY. I tried my best to recruit my friends to come play hookey with me, but they all insisted on hunkering down at the library to study (the nerve). So, I took off solo in my car and ended up - where else? - at Ben & Jerry's.

Ben & Jerry's just happened to be next to a laundry mat. While waiting in line for my cone, I overheard an elderly woman ask if she could use the telephone to call a cab, again. She was next door doing her laundry and needed a ride home. She had already called the cab company several times, to no avail. For some reason I asked her if I could give her a ride, and she accepted.

We walked out to the car and she had a light raincoat tied around her waist. She laid it down on my front seat and explained to me that it had been a long wait ... it was then I realized she'd had an accident. I was so embarrassed for her and assured her that my front seat had seen much worse during the past 4 years at college.

The space between our two bucket seats, and our two lives, spanned the distance between two continents. Two worlds. Two universes. I was at the beginning of my life: graduating from college in just a few days, heading to graduate school in a faraway city, taking on a new career, planning to conquer the world. She was at the end of her life: just trying to catch a ride home from the laundry mat was a struggle.

And then we started to talk.

I learned that she was a recently widowed college professor. She and her husband, also a professor, had both graduated from Cornell. They met and dated while undergrads, and went on to marry and have successful careers. She was one of an elite group of women in her day to get a PhD and go on to become a tenured professor. She was smart, accomplished, and terribly impressive.

Her house was just a few short blocks away and I helped her carry her laundry basket to the front door and we parted ways, never to see each other again. When I climbed back into my car, I realized that the space between us spanned -- not continents, not worlds, not universes -- but simply a few decades.

And now 20 years of my life have flashed by in the blink of an eye. I realize that I will soon be closer to 60 than 20. (Is this possible? Apparently the answer is yes.) And I hope that in the next 20 years I will learn even more from the people I come into contact with every day. The casual strangers who shape your life and make you realize that none of is alone in this journey we call life.