46.

That’s my age as of June 11. 

46.

With more life behind me than there is left ahead.  On the downhill slide to old age.

Or so I’ve been programmed to believe. 

Okay, so I just posed this on twitter and I’ll crosspost here because I’d love to get some feedback on this.  You see, I’m starting to wonder whether there’s something wrong with me because I just cannot get a mental picture of myself as an old person. 

You know, like Bob’s age? Hehe.

No, actually, older than that. 

I just can’t go there.  I look in the mirror and I still see me.  I can’t imagine me… only old.

Nope.

Can’t do it.

But I think my failure in this regard might be linked to the negative mental image I have of getting older.  The health issues.  The dependency.  Because all the things I accept as part and parcel of this aging thing? Are negative. 

But what if we found out that most of the commonly accepted physical problems that come with aging weren’t actually inevitable but in fact were directly linked to our mental perception of what growing older is supposed to bring?  And then let’s take this another step further.  What if our mental acceptance of age as more than a number is the critical step that causes us to make the choices that create all the negative outcomes that accompany growing older?  Do we mentally let that number become a defining factor in our lives that drives our choices?  And that takes us to the question of whether "slowing down" as we age is nothing more than just being lazy and giving up? 

And (of course) there’s a person who has raised this question for me.  Bob’s Mom.  Who is 76, very active, goes to Pilates 3 days a week, eats healthy, manages her health conditions with minimal medical intervention, oh and refuses to see herself as old.  Which is ridiculous to me, because she is old.  Because 76 is old in my head and I want to categorize her as that number and that state but she just will not cooperate and act it.  Which, I must admit, just annoys me.  Because she’s not supposed to be acting my age, she’s supposed to act hers.  But she doesn’t believe that rule and that – I think- might be making all the difference for her.

Or not.  I just don’t know.

Because when I compare her with 76 year olds in my family?  She’s nothing but a little cute annoying anomaly.  In fact, sadly, I have family members who are much younger than Dee who are in much worse physical shape.

So is it choices? Genetics? Or is it mental?

And I know the brain is very powerful.  I know that believing that you can or can’t do something makes all the difference in whether you succeed or fail.  But is a negative perception of aging going to make me old before my time? 

I hope not.  But what do you think? 

Age – a number only, or much more?  And more importantly, will acting your age ultimately kill you before your time?

Hmmmm.

Or "You can’t enjoy the future if your head’s up your ass" or something like that.

So, Friday night I went out sans husband for some girl time.  You know, since he’s busy singing his little heart out 4 days and nights a week right now. 

Remember? 

Annie

Yeah, we’re still in that.  But I’m not complaining at all.  He’s so happy doing this thing. So. Happy. I think he may have that hobby I’ve been telling him to get for so long. And he’s good actually.  Very good. So yay Bob for finding something you love. Now stick to it!

And, of course, all my free time is nice too.  I’ve got time for my bike rides, and my running, and my writing. So that’s good too. And, wonder of all wonders, living here, amazingly enough, I’ve actually made some friends.  Friends that share some of my myriad interests.

Friends that aren’t currently guests of a mental health facility.

I know! WTF?

But anyway, that’s not really the story either.

Short version of our Girls Evening Out – in 1000 words or less? We visited a Hookah Bar.  That was nice. We revisited The Red Door.  That was very nice.  We had an encounter with a local Lakeland Bar-Snake Legend. That was amusing. One of us had the bewb brush done to her. That was… well there really aren’t any words to fully describe how full-on cheesy that was.  Oh, and in the process of all this we had a few drinks.  That’s not shocking.  Just your typical Friday night out.  Thanks Tams for including me!

But that wasn’t the story.

Really.  The story started with the people in that night though.  Because at the Red Door I learned that Tams and her Friend have a friend who just happens to be someone I went to high school with and knew in passing, back in the day.  I say "in passing" because he was a Senior when I was a Soph, back when Sophomores were algae in the High School life cycle.  I didn’t even think this guy knew I was alive.  And I hadn’t seen him since he graduated in 1980.  Certainly I never knew much about him back then, and really I can’t say that I know him now.  But I can say that he seems to be a really nice guy.  And I’m really glad I got to spend that time talking with him.  I’m really glad that I got to meet the person he turned into.  Because that person seems to be comfortable in his skin.  Accepting of his life, honest about his missteps, and happy with who he is today.  And I can say that I would love to spend time talking to him again one day.  He’s smart and funny – the kind of person I like having around.  So, Mark, I hope I run into you again.  You’re a great adult! 

And that’s where the story begins.  And it’s really not a story so much as it’s observations I’ve made since I’ve been back here, in my hometown.  Because I see folks pretty often that I knew from back in the day.  Lots of them are still here.  One of the local establishments is even doing a lot to pull together folks who knew each other "back then."  And I’ve gone to one of those gatherings. And it sort of told the tale on the person I am today that I wasn’t entirely comfortable being there.  Because when I’m around the people from back then, suddenly without warning I feel just like the socially awkward person I was back then. The girl who didn’t fit in so well.  The square peg.

But because I’m so busy not fitting in, I’m able to be a disinterested observer.  I’m able to read the people who are fitting in.  The people who are still stuck "back in the day". Because there are quite a few who are.  Quite a few who are reliving that past because they truly believe that those were the best years of their lives.  And I have to tell you that to me, that is sad. 

The best years of your life have been gone for over 30 years? 

Really?

Really?

My friend said "I’m sorry I wasn’t a very nice person back then. I was going through a lot at home. High School wasn’t easy for me."  Well, Friend Mark, I don’t think High School was truly easy for anybody, really.  Finding the bits of the adult you are becoming.  Figuring out how they fit together.  Trying to hide the things that don’t fit.  The things that made us not acceptable.  Some of us just camouflaged all that stuff better.  But I almost laughed when you said that to me because I thought you were so confident. So together.  So adult.  That’s why I never talked to you.  Because I wasn’t.  I was a child.  Trying to figure out how to fit in.  And failing miserably.  I was the faceless rabble.  

And you were one of the cool kids.

Chalk and cheese.  Algae and vertebrates.  Peas and rocks.

So I stayed invisible and looked at your life with longing.  But, while I wished for your life, I survived my own.  And while I was busy surviving I knew without a doubt that those years of high school I was surviving were not ever going to be considered the best days of my life. 

And guess what?  I was right.

Because since those unhappy days, my life has been rich and full and with any luck it will continue to be so.  I go to sleep happy at night because I know the next day holds so many more surprises for me to unlock and discover.  It has the promise of finding wonderful people like my new old friend, new challenges, and a new future I am planning for always.  Yes, I am still becoming the person I want to be, still changing, still learning.  I am not frozen in amber back in 1982. 

So maybe high school being so hard for me was a good thing.  Maybe not accomplishing so much then makes today better.  There’s something to be said for not peaking too soon.

And I guess my wrap-up here is that I actually feel sorry for all the folks who look so longingly back to their past.  For the people who lived their best life 30 years ago.  Because they’re probably missing out on a good life right here today.  But they can’t see it ahead of them, because they spend all their time looking back.

Thoughts?

So, have I mentioned lately how I’m pretty much a full-on neurotic control freak with OCD tendencies?

Um, yeah, that’s me.

And suddenly, after that statement, all of you are now thinking that you’ve walked out of a blog post and into the beginning of a 12 step program meeting, right? Yeah, thought so. (Cue everybody saying all together in a soothing singsong voice) “Hello Neurotic OCD Control Freak.”

Okay, now that we have that charming interlude out of the way… yes, I am.  And instead of this increasing the amazingness of being around me 24-7-365, it merely make me extremely challenging to live with. Especially for Bob. With all his happy bag of quirks he’s carrying around all the time. Especially for him.

I am not painting a pretty picture here, am I?

No, not at all.

But, to be clear, neither of us misrepresented anything to the other at all. But you can be sure that there are definitely times (more than you’d probably believe) when all the quirks and tics and odd habits we both possess make our house a pretty crowded place.

And the drama… OMG!  The. Drama.

Over really important stuff. You know, like whether the toilet lid should be up or down? (Down is the correct answer – in case you’re wondering) Or whether closet doors should be open or closed? (Closed, with the light off – again, in case you’re wondering.) Or how many rolls of toilet paper are too many? And that answer is – there’s no such thing as too many… just so we’re really clear. So, make a note, in case of the Apocalypse my house has toilet paper. And paper towels too… just sayin’.

Sometimes, though, something big happens that really knocks us past all that petty crap and reminds us both of the really important thing in our lives. The thing that really counts.

Each other.

Yeah, that. The reason we’re together anyway. The reason we’ve endured learning to live together, learned the dance steps that keep us going, learned to have a tolerance for each other that keeps us in this house, making this work, day after day.

Anyway, we had one of those “Aha!” moments a few weekends ago. One of those moments when we were able to see clearly what is most important. After we looked together into a broken mirror. And saw (one more time) exactly why it is that we’re still together. Why it’s all worth it.

One more time.

Because we broke a mirror.

And, of course, when I say we, I mean Bob. And when I say broke, I mean shattered. All over the Whole Foods parking lot. And I saw it about to happen. But I couldn’t stop it. And after it happened, instead of thinking “!@$$#S%^^**$!!!!!!”, all I could do was laugh with relief that Bob was okay, no limbs were laying in the parking lot twitching on their own, and that we were both whole.

Yes, I was annoyed. Mildly. But I was more relieved that he hadn’t made an amputee of himself when he tried to catch the damned thing by the edge, with his foot. That could have gone badly. Very badly. But it didn’t. All we ended up having was a bunch of old broken glass, reflecting up at us in the moonlight. And when you put it like that, it’s not so important after all.

Bob, however, is a different story indeed.

And I guess the funniest part to me was how shocked he was when he finally figured out that I wasn’t angry. That I was joking. That I was laughing. About a broken mirror. But that was because I wasn’t angry at all. Because when I looked down into that pile of broken glass that was scattered all over the parking lot, what I actually saw reflecting back at me was the image of the most important thing in my world. Bob. Quirks and all. And Bob – without question- is irreplaceable. And that’s what I told him. I told him that when you take life down to the barest parts, we both know what’s most important to us, what we can’t replace.

We both saw it all too clearly, in the pieces of that broken mirror.

Us.

Together.

Today and tomorrow.

Forever.

And with all that blah blah, happy third anniversary to the most important thing in my life. Thank you for everything. For making me whole again. For completing my life. For annoying the crap out of me. For expanding my profanity vocabulary. And for making me laugh. You are my everything and I love you more than anything in the world. And I wouldn’t trade any of the aggravation or tears or laughter or joy for anything. Especially a pile of broken glass.

Forever.

And I’m looking at it right now because I’m feeling the need for some introspection. Because I got an email two days ago that has really made me see some new realities about me and my life today.  Today I guess I finally started recognizing and accepting the fact that my life has changed.

I am getting older.

Getting. Older.

And I don’t know about you but those are some really scary words for me to type or write. Or even say or think.

And, truly, the glimmering dawn of this realization is causing me untold angst like I haven’t had in a very long time.  And the cause of all this drama? Oh, a little thing. Well, okay, maybe not so little, but then again probably it is. Because that email was from a Recruiter. For a very large company. That is currently hiring my dream job. That rolls up every position I’ve ever had and allows me to use all that experience in one job. In a field that is probably as safe as anything out there.  And the skills I would be able to grab from this would kick me completely up to the next level, and probably solve any financial issues we will ever have. And it’s in a perfect location for us – low crime, great education system, cultured, urbane, liberal. Wait, let me retype that last one – LIBERAL. And the company? It’s truly stellar. Great work environment, amazing corporate culture, creative and nurturing environment, and highly supportive management. It’s like a Google or Microsoft on first blush. It’s the level of company that is really hard to find anymore.

But there’s one problem.

Isn’t there always? Yeah, always.

Never can anything that good be perfect, never. Because the problem is in the category of “dealkiller”. Because the perfect company, with the perfect job, is in a great location for some people. But not for me.  Nope.  Because that perfect job, with the awesome company? Is in Madison, WI.

Jeebus help me, Madison, WI.  Ugh.

Yeah, that place would probably be classified as the sock capitol of the world. And it is also in the running for one of the cold weather capitols too.

Can you say BRRRRRRRRRR?

But there was a day when the only concern would have been the weather, and that would have only been a blip on my radar. It wouldn’t have even slowed me down. I wouldn’t have had any angst, over anything. Back in that day, this would have been a done deal. In fact, I would have probably sent them my resume yesterday and started packing my boxes today. But that day isn’t this day. That day is long gone. That day was fifteen years ago. Not today.

And that’s why I’m so angsty over this, because there’s a part of me that really wants to be fifteen years younger. Not fifteen years older like I am today. Because then I could move on this opportunity quickly, without any concern for anything.

Anything other than the whole sock issue, that is.

But I can’t. Move on this, that is. For a few reasons, all of which are because of the fact that today I am older. And growing older means you get baggage that you didn’t have when you were younger. Things like two parents and two step-parents who are all growing older too. And none of them will ever be accused of having what I would call spectacular health. And trust me when I tell you that it’s already a concern that none of them live closer than 7 hours away. So, 18 hours? That’s not even something I can consider. So, that means that this email? And this dream job? They’ll be staying in the dream category. Because all the negatives rolled together make this a no.

Well, all that, and the fact that I like our life here. There’s that too. Because I really do. Like our life here that is. It’s very good actually. We are at peace. And I can see us growing old here. And that’s something I’ve never envisioned anywhere. Because I wasn’t going to do that. Grow old. But I am. Slowly but surely, whether I like it or not. And at this stage in my life, with possibly more of it behind me than there is left to go, I have to remember the important things. The things that count. The people that count.

Which means… (drumroll please) … I’m getting older.

So as much as I’d like to say "yes, yes, pick me pick me!!!"… I’m saying no. Because I don’t live to work. I work to live. I am more than my job or any career success (which bytheway is fleeting at best).  I am my life – with all those people in it, and I wouldn’t trade anything for that life.

Not even that Treehouse Conference Room or the gourmet Cafeteria.

Yeah, really. I know. WTF?

And things we shouldn’t. 

So, none of you probably know who she is, but I have this cyber-friend in Nashville who is in the process of saying the her final goodbyes to her Mom.  Her Mother has had health problems, fought Cancer a couple of times, and after many months of illness she’s near the end.  Sharon’s Mom was hospitalized last weekend because of a serious turn for the worse and with end of life instructions that state clear wishes to only be kept comfortable, she was transferred to Hospice yesterday.  Now Sharon and her sister – Sandra are with their Mom almost constantly, just to make sure her wishes are fulfilled and to make sure she isn’t alone. 

Now, the first thing I have to tell you is that all of these women have a Christian faith that is undying.  Strong.  So they all know where Barbara Jean is going after she passes on.  But it’s still tough, no matter what or who you believe in, to let the people you love leave you behind.   

For everybody. 

And for Sharon and Sandra, it’s saying goodbye to the last parent they have alive, since they lost their Dad over 18 years ago.  

I can’t imagine. 

But I’ll have to one day.  Just like they are.

Yesterday Sharon posted a note on Facebook and there was this part that really got to me:

it dawned on me that I most likely will never have a "regular" conversation with my Mom again-at least not in this life. There won’t be any more phone calls that begin with our usual greeting of "What’re you doin’?"
Geez.

And I’ve got to tell you, I’m still mentally dealing with the reverberations of those words.  Because almost unwillingly I thought about my Mom.  And my Dad.  And it made me realize one more time that I too am going to lose them.  And I can’t imagine… as aggravating as both of them can be at times… not being able to simply pick up the phone and say "hey!"

Geez.

Geez indeed. 

Sharon and family, please know that my heart goes out to all of you, even though we’ve never met.  You are all in my thoughts and heart as you take this painful step in your lifepath.  And godspeed to Barbara Jean as she passes on from you and goes to be with everyone who has already gone on before her.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find some Kleenex, and then I guess I need to call my folks.

Geez.

from 2010.  Yes, indeed we are.  Because the last year, it definitely had quite a few OMGWTFUSUK moments – like most of them? Well, no, not most of them, but a good portion of them anyway. And for those of you keeping score at home- the toteboard shows that 2009 had 4 residences, 5 jobs, and countless hours of second guessing and soul searching between the two of us. So, hey, you? Departing year? Don’t let the door hit you in the ass as you roll on into history. 

But, hey, any day above ground is a pretty good one, right?  And since we’re alive that’s an automatic win I’d think.  Well, one of us is anyway. However, there’s another of us who might soon be on life support if he EVER leaves the lid off the Nyquil when he throws it back in the Medicine basket, in my new linen closet.

JACKASS!

Um, yeah. But that’s just one of the challenges. The other is fitting all our 20 pounds of shiz into a 5.2 pound sack/house, without a basement or an attic. Yeah, that’s working out about as well as you’d expect. IE the car may never see the inside of the garage. Ever.

The high points (undifferentiated order, very stream of consciousness):

• We are back in Florida. Can I just tell you upfront that I really love this place? Yep, it’s weird – unapologetically so in fact, the weather is generally warm to hot as hell and the relative humidity rivals 2 16 year old KY Cousins courtin’ for the first time, and it’s got lots of exotic flora and fauna – most of which is disgusting looking and/or wants to bite/sting/swell you up. But on the flipside- I can wear some form of Flipflop most of the time, it has beaches that are mostly safe to walk on, I don’t have to wear socks very often, and there’s just so much to do here – yeararound! Really, I guess it’s home for me because I feel more at ease in my skin when I’m here, and I really miss it when I’m gone. But this time I’m thinking I’m back for good. No real plans to leave this sandy piece of land ever again. Make a note.
• Santa gave us Disney Annual Passes & I’ve been to Disney twice already – I’ll be there lots more. I know, shocking?! WOOHOO!
• We got to spend a lot of time at the beach last Summer. Very nice. In fact, exceptionally nice. Thanks to my cousin for sharing her lovely home with us!
• I have Wine Wednesday buddies to share the stresses of life with. Like having Group Therapy – with snacks and good red wines. What’s not to like?
• We survived commune living with Thi Thi & Bub for nearly 6 months, and nobody died. Yeah. I know. Amazing. But yes, we survived. And we’re still speaking to each other. That’s the best part. No, actually, the best part is that we’re living 10 min. from each other now. So we’re still very close. And that’s a good thing for all of us. The happy factor is higher when you’ve got at least some family close at hand. For everyone.
• Bob’s Type 2 Diabetes has apparently gone the way of the Dodo. Diet, a combination of multiple supplements, and some exercise appears to have finally done the trick. Oh, and a Doctor that is willing to experiment some with different paths, that’s the other big thing. All that combined is showing him as having average blood sugar readings at around 100, with no medication for 5 months. So we’re over the moon about that one. Yay Bob!
• I’ve lost 23 lbs! Finally got around to reading that “Weight Loss for Dummies” book – all two pages of it. You know, the one where page one says “put down the fork”, and page two says “get off your ass”. Amazingly, that actually works! Who knew? Anyway, it’s working, I’ve been updating you all on that. So that’s enough about that.

But the downside? Yeah, there’s a downside, there always is, isn’t there? 2009 offered up a delicious poop-pourri of challenges for us – both individually and as a couple. Actually I consider it a testimony to either our tenacity or ignorance that we are a) still married, b) not dead with CSI investigating, and c) both of us are still relatively sane. Shut up! I said relatively. Actually I consider that to be huge. HUGE! Because, for Bob, going through 2 layoffs and 3 jobs and more change than any change-averse person should ever have to see in one lifetime let alone one year without having a mental “episode” is some sort of record I think. In fact I’m surprised he hasn’t been rocking in the corner for the past 5 months. Oh, wait, there was that week last month… nevermind. But anyway, huge kudos to him for not giving up, for getting right back in the market, and for landing a new gig in just over a month – both times. Yeah, I know… in this work environment that’s just, like, wow! A miracle wrapped in ridiculous amounts of luck, swirled with creamy goodness. As for the new gig… even though it isn’t the best paying position he’s ever had, it really is a very good fit for him. In fact it may be the best fit he’s had yet in his odyssey thru corporate America.

As for me? Well, let’s see, I’ve been keeping busy dodging life’s boulders. Yeah, dodging. And ducking. And dealing with the occasional glancing blow. Nothing major, only a flesh wound, but it does make things challenging. Apparently I’m training for an agility trial or something. Who knew? The biggest boulder of all? Oh that would be the reality that even though I’m really glad to be back home in Florida, the reasons for the move back really pissed me off. In fact they still do, and they probably always will. Even though I know that being angry at circumstances beyond your control is a gigantic waste of mental energy. And let’s face it, at my advanced age I need to conserve that. It’s in short supply. Seriously, even though I know very well that even with everything we’ve had to handle we’re still so much luckier than the majority of folks who’ve been caught up in this same maelstrom, I’m still very angry at the Gods, Fate, the Magic 8-Ball, or whatever the hell it was that threw our lives into total uproar. And, BTW, it still is. In uproar that is. And I guess it will be as long as we still live two places – in a lovely rental in FL and still owning our own home in TN.

Pssst! Know anybody who wants a nice little bungalow in Island Home? I can hook ‘em up!

But anyway, I guess I’ll eventually get over it. Maybe. But it’s been very hard. And I have to state for the record that I resent the crap out of 2009 for having the temerity to suck this bad. Seriously. Who signed off on that anyway? You better hope I don’t find out your name. Bad karma doesn’t even begin to describe your lot in life.

But now we’re in 2010. Both of us are happily gainfully employed. We’re settling into our new temporary home and laying plans for our long-term future here. We’re through with looking backward, we’re looking forward to a bright future and we’ve got on our shades. 2009 ain’t nothin’ but a thing we lived thru. And, yes, we lived thru it. It was what it was. And I guess by surviving together, we’ve proven the rule “that which does not kill us shall make us stronger”. Again and again and again.  But, more importantly, we’ll continue to do just that. Survive.  Because that’s who I am. And today that’s who Bob is. We survive.  Albeit fussing and quarreling and carrying on like we do. Just plain Missy & Ira. Survivors.

Yay us! Happy New Year!

Diet began: 10/07/09

Wt: 210 lbs.

Goals:
Weight: 140 lbs.
Fitness: Disney Half Marathon in 2011
Mantra: "I want my frackin’ Duck Medal"

Progress:

Today: 01/05/10
Wt: 187 lbs.

Fitness Update: Just gotta say, it feels completely freaky to write or type 2010. So much has happened in that ten years. So. Much. But that’s another story for another day. This is today’s story… my progress so far. And on that subject, I made it through the holidays! And more importantly, I didn’t gain anything back. Yay me!!! Even with it being the Season’s Eating’s juggernaut, not a pound! In fact, yay me x 2! However, I have to say boo to me for not being as focused on my fitness regime as I should be. But in my defense, it’s been a hectic several weeks. However, now that we’ve moved, and now that I’m one block from Lake Hollingsworth, there are no more valid excuses. None! It’s time to stop the talking and get moving – seriously. I mean, come on, I have a very nice bike; I have feet, a lake and a shiny new pedometer; and for those very infrequent rainy days, I have a Wii Fit, a treadmill, and my Personal Trainer system so now I just need to put on my Asics and get to work.

As for actual exercise being done, it looks like I’m speedwalking The Hog Hustle 5k this coming weekend. Yep, The Hog Hustle.  Yeah, I know, don’t say it.  If I could please make a request to the organizers, a new name for this lovely event would be just peachy! Because, seriously folks, the Hog Hustle brings back some really bad memories of racing some woman with arms shaped like Clifty Farm Hams to get to the Fried Green Tomatoes at Fred’s Southern Kitchen.  But I digress.  I’m actually thinking that the best part of doing the Bataan Death March H-Squared is that I’m not doing it alone because Thi Thi’s going to be suffering alongside me. Everybody – a big yay for her too! And if I survive the H-Squared then I’m doing the Gasparilla 5k with some other friends who have promised not to laugh too much at my whinging and moaning.  If my plans work the way I want them to and my knee cooperates I hope to be able to jog at least a little bit of that one… maybe.  But before I can hit that lofty goal, my first baby step is going to be actually using that C25K app I bought back in early Dec. Uh, yeah, that one. The one that I’ve not been using. Like my other exercise stuff. Um, er, yeah. I have made the decision to do the beginning parts on the Treadmill… that might be safer, ya know? And that comes with the added bonus that I’ll be closer to both the phone and 911. After all, it’s important to keep the optimism tempered with realism, eh?

Food Update: At the risk of sounding like an infomercial, I have to say that I’m still really liking the HealtheTrim supplement I take each day. And, no, they aren’t giving me any promotional deals for saying that, so my motives are pure. In the beginning my favorite part was that it kept me from feeling hungry and deprived while my body played catch-up with my dramatic change in eating habits. Now that I’m thru that part of dieting, I really like the fact that I am never starving and I can take the time to determine why I’m wanting to eat.  Whether it’s hunger, or something else.  Because most of the time it’s the something else.  Yep, you guessed it, I’m an emotional eater.  In fact, I would go so far as to say that most of the weight I’ve gained over the years has been because I was trying to fill a space in my head, not my stomach.  But now that I’m really not ever too hungry I can make a conscious effort to consider the reason for the urge, talk myself down off the ledge if necessary, and move on.  So far it’s working.  As for actual food discussion, I know you might be shocked to read this but the holidays really weren’t that hard. Astounding, yes? Yes. I ate whatever I wanted, just not nearly as much. I was able to cook the way I always do, with butter, cream, sugar and all the trimmings.  But I am finding that I’m craving things like veggies, fruits, and proteins, and not nearly so many carbs.  I still have candy and some junk food in the house, but I find that I’m not really interested in it that often.  In the process of my journey, I also found a new love – Pomello! Thanks Dana & Tam!  That’s a major yum for sure! Actually I liked it so much I even threw it in our family tradition fruit salad on Christmas.  And that’s saying something because 24 hour Salad is practically sacred to me.  But the Pomello played very nicely with both the other fruits and the marshmallows so it’s a keeper!  Another thing I’ve finally started eating is Breakfast.  I know, I know… don’t even start.  I’m doing a small bowl of some sort of whole grain stuff and a small bowl of navel & pomello.  And I’ve solved my morning drag.  So, maybe all those books aren’t actually full of bunkum?  Maybe.

Final Thoughts: Actually, I guess the thing I’m most proud of is that I haven’t quit this thing. Despite the fact that it seemed back in October like an impossible dream. Seriously, just 6 mos. ago if you had told me I could lose 23 lbs. without medical intervention I would have laughed you out of town. And if I had to name the reason for my success, I’d have to say the game changer for me is getting my head in the game. Because mentally I had to get myself to a place where I could do this thing. Because my feeling about losing weight is that it’s a whole lot like stopping smoking for a smoker or stopping drinking for an alcoholic. I guess that’s why I don’t get preachy or judgmental about it with anybody.  After all, I’ve got years of experience at being a happy fat girl – years I tell you!  And I can also tell you from those many years of experience that nothing will ever work until you and you alone decide that you want it to work. Nothing.

My reasons for doing this are very simple and they don’t include the words BATHING SUIT SEASON. Because you can take it to the bank that there is nothing in the world short of a full body transplant or head to toe Spanks that will ever make that happen.  Ever.   Nope, as I have said before, my reason for this decision was very simple – to be able to live longer and to be in good enough condition to want to stay alive.  I knew all the side-effects that being heavy was bringing to the table, and I also knew that, given my advanced age, there’s a lot of irreversible damage done.  But my hope is that if I can change this one small thing, then maybe I can create a better outcome. In the end though, the key to everything was making the decision that this was worth it. And that I wanted to do it. A million other “everybody else’s” telling me that I needed to do it would never work. Hell, I already knew it.  No surprise there. I can tell you that all the voices in my head saying “diabetes, high blood pressure, knee replacement” like a frickin’ greek chorus for the past ten plus years has been more than a little annoying. But I got very good at shoving a bag of Potato Chips at those voices so they’d STFU! This time, for some unknown reason, I decided to listen. To recognize that the lifestyle I was living was not sustainable over the long-run. And I did. And I think that’s made all the difference.

The results? Oh, those are obvious. Not only do I feel better and have more energy, I’m happier with me because I’ve taken control of this part of my life. And I’m annoyed with myself that it took me this long. Because I’m the personality type that attacks life like a bulldozer. I control everything in my world. But I didn’t control this. Until now. Now I do. And I hope I can continue to do so for a very long time.  Now if you’ll excuse me, gotta get to bed.  It’s colder than a well-digger’s butt out there and I need sleep if I’m going walking in the Arctic tomorrow.

CYA@the lake! Bai!

So, yeah, I’ve mentioned at least a million times I think, that this year is different.  Not bad, not good, just different.  Very different.  Okay, maybe more than different.  And I’ve spent several months fighting that different.  Hard.

Until I quit.

Until I finally accepted that I can’t make this be that.  And really I don’t want it to be.  I want it to be what it is.  But I want it to feel familiar.  Act the same.  And it can’t. Because it’s not the same. 

It’s different.

So, this week I embraced that different.  Accepted it. Even sorta kinda welcomed it maybe.  A little. Sort of like it’s accepting me. A little.  Nothing is the same. So let’s just shake the Snowglobe of Life hard… and when it comes back down, well that’s our life now.  Deal. 

It is what it is.

Ours.

The new and different version.

Ours.

With lots of differences but still great.  Still ours.  Just different.

And this is what happened when the snowglobe settled down.  I present to you all, our 2009 Christmas Tree…

With our ornaments – new and old, our Monorail underneath, and our flipflops hung with care.  Yes, it’s a Ficus Tree.  I told you I was going to.  I did. Ain’t it great?

Yeah, I think so too.

And on that note, happy holidays from us to you. No matter what you celebrate or how you spell it.  Make this season yours, and make new memories and traditions.  It’s not as hard as you think.

Lots of love!

M & B and the whole gang!

So, it’s been a while… is that a new haircut? You lost weight didn’t you?  Oh me?  Doing fine, just swimming along.  Really.  Still in a holding pattern. 

Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming.

But it’s been a pretty good Fall, actually.  We’re both working.  Doing well at that.  Dare I say it? Enjoying it? Yikes! That means it’s time to move on, right?  And we’re both really starting to wrap our heads around the idea that this is home.  Home.  Capitalized.  Yeah, home.  And if we could get our own place, then it would be home.  Home! With an exclamation point.  We’re looking.  We’ve narrowed down the area – 33803 – between Lake Morton and Edgewood, and now it remains to find the right place. 

Meanwhile, we’ve been getting into the FL groove.  Enjoying the whole no socks, tee shirts & shorts thing.  Wearing sweaters when it’s 58. Yeah, that thing.  You know me, I love it.  This, actually, is why people live in Florida.  Clear sunny days of 75 to 80, nights of 55 to 60.

Aaahhhh, this is the life!  I could retire here. Oh, wait, I think I already have. Maybe.

The commune living has turned out pretty well, or at least better than I think any of us ever expected.  But all fun things come to an end, and so it is with that too.  The Smiths are househunting, just like us, to find something a little more their style, where they can be a family again. And as much as we’ve gotten on each other’s nerves, I think we’ll all really miss each other.  I know I will anyway.  And Mabel will be despondent.  We may have to buy Angel, or rent her on a regular basis.

On the subject of the Florida groove, did I mention that it was 80 degrees on Halloween night? With a solitary gibbous Moon standing silent sentinel as we trolled the neighborhood for goodies.  Gotta love trick or treating in good neighborhoods… FULL SIZE CANDY BARS!!! Yep, lots of them. Loves them.

Also on the subject of the Florida groove, we’ve been getting our theme park thing on.  Yep.  Took Kaybug to Universal in October… her first time ever.  Lots of fun that day.  Then, last weekend I did Food & Wine @ Epcot with my cuz.  I think we might have over-imbibed a tad – maybe. But I’m no expert, don’t quote me!  Then, today, we took advantage of the beautiful Fall weather and went to Downtown Disney for The Festival of the Masters.  For a free event, we had more fun than is legal. Well, most of us, Bob whinged some, but we just ignored him, or told him to STFU. Then he did.  It was good.  And even he grudgingly admitted that it was fun. 

So that’s the update.  Maybe I’ll write more.  Maybe.  I seriously considered pulling the plug entirely. But then I didn’t.  I just don’t feel like I have a lot to say anymore.  I’m busy living. Not talking about it.  We’re free of the past now.  We’ve got a full life.  It’s good.  What’s there to say really?  But I’ll come by to visit.  And you should also expect Fitness updates… since that’s my new thing.  More about that later though. 

Hugs!!!

M

Not my own.

Well, okay, probably it is.  But I’m not sure it’s what I had in mind.   Because this year? It’s kicked my butt.  Really.  And don’t get me wrong – I like change, I’m not averse – but this year? Really? Too much.

Picture this:  Friday night, walking at twilight in a cool breeze to buy our tickets to a high school football game.  Nothing new there, right?  Sounds just like our last two years. 

Wrong.

This time, this year we aren’t walking into Faust Field to watch Webb play and Miss C cheer.  Not any more.  No, this game is in Lakeland, Florida, and this team is my High School team – the Dreadnaughts, and this is the first time I’ve seen them play in 25 years.  Meanwhile Miss C is graduated and off on her own, becoming the wonderful adult we knew she was already.  And we’re not in Knoxville anymore.  Not feeling the nip of Fall in the air.  Not watching the leaves change colors.

I am sad.

I’ve said goodbye to this place called Florida before.  Twenty years ago for the first time, as I moved onto the second act in my life.  And again, five years ago this week, as the curtain fell on that second act, and act three of my life entered stage left.  And now act three has moved back to the original theater.  But it’s different.  But it’s home again.  I just wonder how long it’s going to take for it to feel like that.  Home.  And more curiously, how long will this feeling of amputation linger?  Like I’ve got some part missing.  Something unknown but crucial to survival.  When will the day come that these alien palm trees in our yard will be as familiar as my precious Dogwoods and Oaks?

When?

New people, new places, all wrapped in memories of the past.  And because of that, I feel like I’ve moved into a Time Capsule.  And that’s why I wonder whether maybe it would have been easier to go somewhere new.  Someplace not so "known".  Someplace where you’re not constantly trying to remember why something or someone is so familiar. Usually it is, but it’s from another life. Another lifetime. Bits and pieces of places and things that were put in the rearview mirror long ago.

Life comes full circle.

And I keep considering the past.  Because I’m living it again. 

The past.

Not perfect.  Just the past.  In the present tense.  Who knew my life would become a grammar lesson?  And I also keep thinking of this:

"Those who don’t learn from the past are doomed to repeat it."

And I wonder what I haven’t learned.  Since I’m repeating my life. Again. But it’s a different me. I think.

We’ll see.