This morning the rooftops had a thin layer of white frost, the last of the leaves had fallen, the birds had finally headed south, and my steering wheel felt like a block of ice. It's like it all happened over night. You'd think I would have hardened myself to cold by now, yet it shocks me every year. Winter is just so gray here.
On the bright side, I'm always most excited about the holidays at the end of October/beginning of November. The first signs of lighted Christmas trees and red and green ornaments make my heart flutter.
I can already feel the need for a fancier Christmas tree churning. That's probably not good news.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Random Thoughts, Part 2
Tuesday night’s election was awesome, inspiring, and renewed my confidence in democracy. 
I can see the sky from my backyard again, but I have to stand knee deep in leaves to look at it.
I woke up Friday morning to find this note on the kitchen counter:
Hey love, I like your butt too!
Saturday night is the absolute best time to go grocery shopping even if it is humbling to be squeezing and sniffing produce while all your friends are out having dinner.
A man who was neither old nor ugly hit on me the last time I went grocery shopping on a Saturday night, so maybe it’s not so humbling.
2 more months and George Bush will be forced to stop making a complete mockery of the U.S. with his frat boy antics. I cry tears of joy every time I think about it.
I have to give my little sister that gigantic jar of unopened Jif peanut butter shoved in the back of the cupboard.
Do peanut butter cookies taste good when made with all natural peanut butter?
I think I watched Macy die and then come back to life on Thursday morning. One minute she was walking, the next she was dry-heaving and stumbling, and before I could get to her she was on her side with her legs sticking straight out and didn’t appear to be breathing. I’ve never felt so frightened and helpless in my life. Luckily, the moment I touched her she shot right up and climbed into my arms.
I need some new music to listen to, and preferably something new from The Format. Too bad they called it quits back in February.
3 more pounds and I’ll be under 200. October was an absolutely terrible month weight loss wise. Damn you McDonald’s and your evil Monopoly pieces--Ronald should be hanged!
Dear God, it’s not like I have to get pregnant right now, it’s just, you know, a sign that I’ll be able to give birth sometime in the foreseeable future would be fabulous. Love, Kate.
I am 2 hikes away from getting that totally cheap yet rad hiking staff that I could easily make out of a broomstick, but I think it’s going to be too cold to hike tomorrow. I'm bummed, because I really want that hiking staff.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
Pick Me Up
“Are you binge eating?”
“No.”
“Then why are you shoving handfuls of Doritos and M&Ms into your mouth?”
“It’s called emotional eating. It only looks like binge eating because I’m trying to get happy very, very quickly.”
“Don't be stupid. It’s not worth it, Kate.”
I’m going to ignore the fact that Jon was stumbling drunk when we had this conversation and take away from it what I can.
This weekend from Saturday morning on was pretty rough. I think it was mostly due to a lack of sleep on Friday night and taking part in a lot of over-thinking. I let all of my fears and worries roll up into one big ball and I let down my emotional guard, releasing a flood of teary gibberish on everyone I saw, but fortunately I didn’t see many people.
I won’t go into a lot of detail for the sake of privacy, and also because sometimes I can’t explain why I react to things the way I do, sometimes I fall off my rocker without good reason and once I’ve fallen I decide to wallow in it for a while. When in Rome…
When I pulled away from my emotional distress I came to the understanding that although it may not always end on a pleasant note, every relationship with every person I've ever known has had a purpose. And even though I've always criticized Jon for not being as empathetic and understanding as I feel I need in a time of sadness, I realized that he isn't here to coddle me. At a time when I think all I want to do is stare at the ceiling for days, he's there to tell me to snap out of it and pull myself together. He won't sugarcoat anything and most of the time he doesn't let me ramble on and on about what's bothering me, but this is a good thing, because somehow he understands that letting me ramble is only going to let me wallow all the longer.
All these years I'd thought Jon was a little callous and completely unsympathetic to my needs, but I've finally realized that his purpose in my life is the most important--Jon's purpose is to make me a stronger person.
All those years I spent writing about being stuck in a hole that I couldn't climb out of, so I was given a guy who's willing to stand at the top of that hole forever and demand that I climb back out every time I slip.
“No.”
“Then why are you shoving handfuls of Doritos and M&Ms into your mouth?”
“It’s called emotional eating. It only looks like binge eating because I’m trying to get happy very, very quickly.”
“Don't be stupid. It’s not worth it, Kate.”
I’m going to ignore the fact that Jon was stumbling drunk when we had this conversation and take away from it what I can.
This weekend from Saturday morning on was pretty rough. I think it was mostly due to a lack of sleep on Friday night and taking part in a lot of over-thinking. I let all of my fears and worries roll up into one big ball and I let down my emotional guard, releasing a flood of teary gibberish on everyone I saw, but fortunately I didn’t see many people.
I won’t go into a lot of detail for the sake of privacy, and also because sometimes I can’t explain why I react to things the way I do, sometimes I fall off my rocker without good reason and once I’ve fallen I decide to wallow in it for a while. When in Rome…
When I pulled away from my emotional distress I came to the understanding that although it may not always end on a pleasant note, every relationship with every person I've ever known has had a purpose. And even though I've always criticized Jon for not being as empathetic and understanding as I feel I need in a time of sadness, I realized that he isn't here to coddle me. At a time when I think all I want to do is stare at the ceiling for days, he's there to tell me to snap out of it and pull myself together. He won't sugarcoat anything and most of the time he doesn't let me ramble on and on about what's bothering me, but this is a good thing, because somehow he understands that letting me ramble is only going to let me wallow all the longer.
All these years I'd thought Jon was a little callous and completely unsympathetic to my needs, but I've finally realized that his purpose in my life is the most important--Jon's purpose is to make me a stronger person.
All those years I spent writing about being stuck in a hole that I couldn't climb out of, so I was given a guy who's willing to stand at the top of that hole forever and demand that I climb back out every time I slip.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
My New Persona Plays the Guitar
Last night I reached a major milestone in my life: I was able to upgrade my Rock Band guitar level to medium difficulty. I know, I know you might as well stamp DORK in big bold letters across my forehead, but I can’t help myself. I understand that I’m not making the music myself, but because I have control over whether or not the music plays correctly, it’s pretty easy to convince myself that I have at least a little inkling of musical talent for the first time EVER. I reach ecstasy somewhere between the long chords of The Who’s Baba O’Riley and foot-tapping swiftness of Modest Mouse’s Float On. Last night we even downloaded Nine Inch Nails’ Capitol G and I couldn't control myself. I think I might have even gyrated a few times.
Jon is unable to comprehend the monster he’s created. He’s been begging me to play for months, but the only thing I was willing to attempt was singing, and that got very old very quickly. I decided to give it another shot when I took my mental health days and I managed to get hooked on the guitar and all of its rainbow colored buttons.
I guess that's 2 things he got me addicted to in just a couple of days, but let me tell you, he may not have been gloating about getting me hooked on Heroes, but the man can't wipe the huge grin off his face every time I go running for the Rock Band guitar. He's beaming with bright rays of satisfaction because he finally has a real band mate. It's embarrassing really, but I'm having a ton of fun.
Jon is unable to comprehend the monster he’s created. He’s been begging me to play for months, but the only thing I was willing to attempt was singing, and that got very old very quickly. I decided to give it another shot when I took my mental health days and I managed to get hooked on the guitar and all of its rainbow colored buttons.
I guess that's 2 things he got me addicted to in just a couple of days, but let me tell you, he may not have been gloating about getting me hooked on Heroes, but the man can't wipe the huge grin off his face every time I go running for the Rock Band guitar. He's beaming with bright rays of satisfaction because he finally has a real band mate. It's embarrassing really, but I'm having a ton of fun.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Lazy Sunday Morning
"We should probably get out of bed before we waste the day away. What did you want to do?"
"Get rich. We should start our own business."
"What kind of business?"
"First we have to decide what our business will do. What kind of talents do you have?"
"Hmm. I don't have any talents."
"No? Got any awesome dance moves?"
"Nope."
"Can you make any new noises?"
"Hmm. Nope. I've got nothing."
"Okay then, let's eat breakfast instead."
"Get rich. We should start our own business."
"What kind of business?"
"First we have to decide what our business will do. What kind of talents do you have?"
"Hmm. I don't have any talents."
"No? Got any awesome dance moves?"
"Nope."
"Can you make any new noises?"
"Hmm. Nope. I've got nothing."
"Okay then, let's eat breakfast instead."
Thursday, October 23, 2008
All Sorts of Crazy
Last night’s dinner was a complete bust. I took a dish I’ve made a dozen times using white rice and tried to sub it with whole grain brown rice. It didn’t work out and I ended up with a very soupy casserole with crunchy rice, mushy broccoli, and 2 wasted chicken breasts. While I sulked Jon cleaned off the chicken and preserved it as best he could for chicken salad at some point, threw away the rest of the atrocity that was our dinner, and handed me a jacket.
We found ourselves at the local sports bar watching the beginning of the World Series over each other’s shoulders while we shared a bowl of hot chili topped with cheese and onions and served with blue corn chips. It was warm food to fight the cold air outside, it was deliciously dangerous food, and it was oddly intimate sharing despite the obvious fact we were in a very public sports bar. I quickly realized that this is what I love about us; the satisfaction we both get from simple things, the comfortable silence, the peace we keep amid crazy surroundings, and the contentedness from just being together. I never would have thought sharing a bowl of chili (which the waitress later admitted is purchased in bulk from Wendy's...) with my husband could make me appreciate what we have so much more.
Tonight is set to be a very symbolic one--I’m finally doing it--I’m finally giving away all of my old clothes to Goodwill. By the end of the evening my closet will be empty but for a few pieces I've kept over the years as Someday Clothes, you know, those clothes hanging in the back of your closet that you just can’t seem to part with because someday you might fit into them again? I actually had quite a few items I kept for this purpose, and I do finally fit in to some, but most will be making the trip to Goodwill because they’re too big now. I’m going to be left with next to nothing to wear, and I’m both excited and frightened by this.
The minimalist in me is excited because I will be freeing up wasted space and purging, purging, purging. There won't be anymore hunting through a rack of clothes for something that doesn't resemble a potato sack when I put it on. My closet will be calm and organized for the first time in I don't know how many years.
The 35 pounds slimmer me is excited because she sees this as an opportunity (and excuse) to shop more. She's thrilled to buy new pants, sweaters, and jackets that don't come from the plus size department (thanks to vanity sizing no doubt, but still) and she can't wait to take the next step in reinventing herself.
The sentimentalist in me has a different view though. She thinks she's giving up a part of herself by letting go of the things that have helped her hide all these years, things that characterized who she was. She's giving up a part of her that she doesn't want to forget, because no matter how hideous or sad that girl was, she had a hand in making us who we are today, and who we want to be tomorrow.
Whew. Yeah, okay. I'm going to stop there because I'm way over thinking this. I'm giving up my clothes because winter is coming and hopeless people need help keeping warm and my clothes can't help them from the rack in my closet where they will hang the entire time. They can, however, do some good if I give them away, so that's what I'm doing.
I'm fidgety. It's weird. I'd better get this over with so I can keep a normal train of thought again.
We found ourselves at the local sports bar watching the beginning of the World Series over each other’s shoulders while we shared a bowl of hot chili topped with cheese and onions and served with blue corn chips. It was warm food to fight the cold air outside, it was deliciously dangerous food, and it was oddly intimate sharing despite the obvious fact we were in a very public sports bar. I quickly realized that this is what I love about us; the satisfaction we both get from simple things, the comfortable silence, the peace we keep amid crazy surroundings, and the contentedness from just being together. I never would have thought sharing a bowl of chili (which the waitress later admitted is purchased in bulk from Wendy's...) with my husband could make me appreciate what we have so much more.
***
Tonight is set to be a very symbolic one--I’m finally doing it--I’m finally giving away all of my old clothes to Goodwill. By the end of the evening my closet will be empty but for a few pieces I've kept over the years as Someday Clothes, you know, those clothes hanging in the back of your closet that you just can’t seem to part with because someday you might fit into them again? I actually had quite a few items I kept for this purpose, and I do finally fit in to some, but most will be making the trip to Goodwill because they’re too big now. I’m going to be left with next to nothing to wear, and I’m both excited and frightened by this.
The minimalist in me is excited because I will be freeing up wasted space and purging, purging, purging. There won't be anymore hunting through a rack of clothes for something that doesn't resemble a potato sack when I put it on. My closet will be calm and organized for the first time in I don't know how many years.
The 35 pounds slimmer me is excited because she sees this as an opportunity (and excuse) to shop more. She's thrilled to buy new pants, sweaters, and jackets that don't come from the plus size department (thanks to vanity sizing no doubt, but still) and she can't wait to take the next step in reinventing herself.
The sentimentalist in me has a different view though. She thinks she's giving up a part of herself by letting go of the things that have helped her hide all these years, things that characterized who she was. She's giving up a part of her that she doesn't want to forget, because no matter how hideous or sad that girl was, she had a hand in making us who we are today, and who we want to be tomorrow.
Whew. Yeah, okay. I'm going to stop there because I'm way over thinking this. I'm giving up my clothes because winter is coming and hopeless people need help keeping warm and my clothes can't help them from the rack in my closet where they will hang the entire time. They can, however, do some good if I give them away, so that's what I'm doing.
I'm fidgety. It's weird. I'd better get this over with so I can keep a normal train of thought again.
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