July 2007 Archives

Recently, John and I ordered a new computer. The day it arrived, John called me to say it was here, and even better, that the box it came in was, and this is a direct quote, "fort-sized."

"I would love it if you built a fort with that box!" I said. "I hope you do."

Tonight, when I got home, Seamus greeted me with his usual dance at the front door and commenced to killing his stuffed bear, but John was nowhere to be found. I figured he was probably puttering around in the basement or something, until I got a little farther into the house. He was in the dining room, crouched down in his fort, waiting patiently for me to notice him. Truly, he is the man of my dreams.

I didn't get a photo of him in the fort, but behold its fortly (although John-less) glory:

I've seen a bunch of benefits from losing weight and getting in shape. I'm clearly healthier. My diabetes is under good control. It should be positively affecting my fertility. I've learned what a great stress reliever exercize can be, and how much I can enjoy it. I got to feel the pride and accomplishment of running a 5k.

Good health and touchy-feely happy stuff is all well and good, but I'm not going to lie to you. The best part, the absolute best part is being thinner. I love the fact that people who haven't seen me in a while are amazed at how I look. I love how much more confident it makes me feel. And I love how much easier it is to buy clothes.

I was seriously booked with stuff to do on Saturday, so I didn't have much spare time to do anything. However, one of the things I had to do was go to my friends Dave and Valerie's son's baptism. And before I could do that, I had to find something to wear. I'd been meaning to try to get to a store down by my office all week, but I ended up working late every day, so it just never happend. One of the few drawbacks to Frederick is the lack of good clothes and shoe shopping, but there is an Ann Taylor Loft near my house, which I thought might do. Otherwise I was going to have to try to squeeze in a trip to the mall on my way to DC for the baptism, which would have been complicated.

Pre-weight-loss, a last minute trip to the store like that would have been a nightmare of avoiding styles that didn't work on short, round me, trying not to spend a lot of money on clothes that made me feel unattractive, and hating the size I had to buy, wasting time trying on a bunch of stuff that didn't look good, and generally being miserable. Instead, on Saturday morning I walked in to the store, spent 10 minutes wandering around to see what I liked, tried on two dresses, looked good in them both, and walked out of the store with an outfit that was both cute and baptism-appropriate. And that was 40% off. The whole process took less than half an hour. I felt so good I practically danced my way to the car.

That feeling will most definitely motivate me the next time I turn down a piece of cake, avoid a soda, or drag my tired ass to the gym when I'd rather sit on the couch. So to anyone out there who is struggling to get started losing weight, impatient for results, or looking for a reason to stick with it, take it from me -- it is worth it!

I don't talk about work much, but I think people know I am a sort of marketer, which means, of course, that I have to market products. Most of the time, anyway. I've been working pretty hard on a bunch of launches lately, one of which is tied to a specific person. Starting this product was the beginning of a new phase of life for this guy, a culmination of years of work in the financial industry. And on Monday night, less than 12 hours before our first marketing efforts were supposed to go out, he sent me an email saying he liked what I had written, and then had a massive heart attack. The new website and the related pieces of the product were supposed to go live today, and instead, he's clinging to life on a respirator somewhere.

It's very odd, because while I like the guy, and certainly wish him well, I don't really know him. We've never met in person, and we've maybe talked on the phone two dozen times. He could walk right past me on the street and unless I heard his voice, I wouldn't recognize him. And yet his illness has really thrown me off kilter. Part of it is probably because Nora's death is so fresh. And part of it is probably that I care about what happens to him, of course. But most of it is just this notion that he was on the cusp of something new and big that he'd worked really hard for and now...who knows.

I guess I just want to say, take time for the people you love, your friends and family, and do what is important to you. And yes, doing what's important to you can be work, too, if you want it to be. Just choose it consciously. Don't waste time worrying about stuff that doesn't matter, like whether or not you got the absolute best price for something (I can't believe how much energy I put in to fretting over whether I'm paying $2.95 or $2.85 per gallon for gas) or if someone cut you off in traffic, or even whether or not you got the laundry done. In the scheme of things, who cares? Enjoy life while you've got it.

On Friday, John and I went up to Hershey to see the Police play. I was so very excited for this concert. The Police are pretty much my all time favorite band. Liking them pretty much predates all of my other musical favorites -- I liked them before Duran Duran and Depeche Mode (my middle schoole teeny-bopper bands). I liked them before I discovered punk rock, alternative music or really got to like rock n roll or metal. I was thrilled when they announced their reunion tour.

It took us three hours to get there at rush hour. The roads in to Hershey are not equipped for a lot of traffic. And the stadium traffic is not very well organized. I thought John's head was going to explode at the inefficiency of it all. He sets great store in doing things efficiently. And the stadium itself...well, as we were trying to get to our seats, we got trapped in a huge crowd of people in the beer line. It was actually a little bit scary, although that may have just been me. I get claustrophobic. At another point, a woman who was getting crowded and wearing spiked heels stepped backward on to my foot, slicing it open and buising it. But, since it was Pennsylvannia, at least they had funnel cakes.

The concert itself was kind of a disappointment. They got off to a wonderful start, opening with a really good version of Message in a Bottle. The visuals were well done. But Andy Summers seemed out of tune for about half the songs. I didn't even recognize Every Little Thing She Does is Magic at first. And Sting, I'm a huge fan, but man, why the hell can't you play the songs the way you recorded them? I'm not interested in a 10 minute version of Walking in Your Footsteps. I love almost every single one of the Police's songs. I expected to be caught up in the music and carried away. For the most part, I wasn't.

Don't get me wrong. I'm still glad we went, and I would have kicked myself it we hadn't. It was worth seeing them, even if they weren't as good as I thought they would be.

Now for my second review which is much more glowing -- Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. No details or spoilers, I promise. I will say it was everything I hoped the last book would be and more. I finished reading the book today and felt satisfied, and happy and content with the way it ended. The is Snape good or evil question was answered. There were happy bits that made me smile, and sad parts that made me cry, and in the end, good triumphed over evil. I loved every minute of it. Go JK Rowling, and thanks for creating such a wonderful series of books.

John and I each woke up this morning even stiffer and more sore than we were yesterday. We both spend a little time lurching around like Frankenstein, but eventually our muscles loosened up enough to move. Although my hands, wrists and forearms still scream in protest every time I do anything at all. Like squeezing a bottle of dish soap, picking up a hardcover book or holding a grocery bag. Obviously I need to work on arm/wrist strength!

In other news, we have been slowly making our way through the British candy John's cousin Bobby gave us recently. (Yes, I did make my peanut butter/M&M cookies this past weekend, and they are tasty. What's your point? I can eat a bite or two of candy too.) He gave us, among other treats, a Cadbury sample pack chock full of chocolates they don't sell in the United States. I'd like to know why we can't get our hands on Crunchie bars. That is one delicious candy. Also, Cadbury's, if you're taking requests, please start selling the soda Lilt here. Both my husband and one of my co-workers have waxed eloquently and poetically on and on about the delights of Lilt. I think you'd find there's a market for it here. Plus, they've gotten me curious enough to want to try it.

However, I must say that Nestle's isn't faring nearly so well. Bobby also gave us some candy called Smarties that I think are supposed to be like M&M's. They are not. And they do not taste good. I hope you poor British people get M&M's too, because Smarties are a pale, inferior imitation, like generic soda. Now, American Smarties are ok. They are little fruit flavored sugar disks that come in a plastic twist. Perhaps you have them and call them something else. I remember hearing that Snickers are called something else in England. Now if we just had an American equivalent to the Crunchie bar.

We spent the entire day working on the yard at Nora’s house, landscaping it in preparation for putting the house on the market. We made a ton of progress, but it was a long, tiring day. I’m covered in scratches, bug bites and bruises, and I used muscles that apparently don’t get all that much regular action. Wow, am I sore. And tired. Did I mention how tired I am?

And I had the easy job. I would go in with the little hedge clippers and work on trimming branches out of the way, and then John would follow behind with the saw and do the heavy duty work. We cleared a huge tangle of four different plants that was taking over the front yard. John got rid of a whole flock of little trees that had sprung up in inconvenient places. I cleaned up the hedges in front of the house. We raked, and mulched and swept for hours, but sadly, we aren’t done quite yet. At least we’re a lot closer to making the house look presentable. I’m sure the neighbors just love the fact that we left a huge pile of branches in front of the house, but we tidied up as best we could for now. The yard got overgrown so quickly. Nora had a lawn service, and I don’t know if she would only let them cut the grass of if they were just half-assing their way through the job. There sure was a lot of work to be done.

We still have to pick up all those branches, clear out some more growth, clean up the path that runs around to the door at the side of the house, paint the rusty spots on the rail for the front steps, and then tend to the borders of some of the areas we’ve been trying to make nicer. Then there’s the inside of the house. John and his sister and her husband have already done a lot of work sorting through the stuff in the house. We’ve donated some of it to Goodwill. There isn’t all that much furniture. I guess we’ll try to sell that. There’s a baby grand piano, which I wish we could keep, but we don’t have any room for it in our house. There’s a bunch of food, which I hope we can donate to a food bank or something. The yard work is productive, at least. You feel like you’ve accomplished something when you’re done. But the rest is a disheartening and depressing dismantling of Nora’s life. I don’t much care for it. I know it has to be done, but I’m not enjoying it.

John’s sister went back to Colorado on Thursday, so now the bulk of the work is going to fall on us. She’s the executor of the estate, but she’s not here, so we’re the ones who have to work with the realtor and get the house as ready as it can be for potential buyers. All in all, I think it will actually be easier for us with her 2,000 miles away, even if she won’t be around to help out. Plus, it will make it that much simpler for me to justify hiring someone to clean the house instead of doing it myself. And no way am I doing it myself.

So, anyone want a nice dining room set, baby grand piano or very low mileage Hyundai? Ever sold any furniture on eBay or Craigslist? How did that go? We’ve got a lot to do in the next two weeks, so any advice you have to share would be much appreciated. Ok, now I’ve got the song from Smokey & The Bandit stuck in my head. “We’ve got a long way to go, and a short time to get there…” I think that’s my cue to go to bed.

For days now, I've been longing for peanut butter cookies with M&M's as well as brownies with peanut butter chips and chocolate chips.

Why? Well beyond the obvious they're delicious, I have no idea why. Usually I think there's something to the whole "You crave what your body needs" theory, but I'm positive my body doesn't actually need chocolate or peanut butter for nutritional reasons. I can't stop thinking about them though. Last night I made the mistake of going to the grocery store while extremely hungry. At that time, I may have purchased the ingredients to make such delicacies.

And so, after much deliberation, I have decided this: I am going to make the cookies and the brownies, since I conveniently happen to have the necessary ingredients lying around in the kitchen. Indluging a craving of such a long duration is not the same as indulging a whim. I will enjoy said treats in moderation. Perhaps while doing this little dance but changing the lyrics to Peanut Butter Chocolate time.

And then I will take a break from baking for a while and get back to the business of losing weight.

John and I are debating something about the Godfather. He says it is unrealistic to think that Michael would get married so quickly in Italy. His argument is that Michael always has a plan, and wouldn't do something so impulsive.

I think that it is precisely because it is so against his nature that he gets married. He's alone in a foreign country, having just thrown away the life he had planned to avenge the attack on and betrayal of his father. He's left he woman he loves behind, and is faced with an uncertain future. Why wouldn't he grasp at something safe and traditional and comforting like marriage to the beautiful daughter of a powerful man?

And of course, it is her tragic death that allows him to become the ruthless man he needs to be to become his father's successor. It's a key point to moving the plot forward.

Or, at least, that's how I interpret the story. It's sadder that way, I think, which makes it even better. There's something about a story where you know the "hero" is doomed. John and I both love stories like that. Don't get me wrong -- I love a happy ending too. In fact, most of the time, even when I know what is coming, I'm still hoping for a happy ending. I am a big gooey wheel of cheese who wants everyone to live in a world with true love and puppies and rainbows. But I love a sad story too.

I think I had a point back when I started writing this, but I've completely forgotten where I was going, and now I'm tired. So...I'll settle for asking -- what's your favorite? Happy ending or sad story?

I freely admit I've been lacking inspiration on this blog lately. I'm just feeling quiet, I guess. Introspective rather than outrospective. Yes, I know outrospective is not a real word. It seems like the perfect word to describe blogging though -- being outwardly focused and sharing your thoughts, as opposed to looking inward and sorting through what you find there on your own.

I think it must be part of the grieving process somehow. I mostly just want to hang out with John, snuggle with Seamus, do stuff around the house, read, watch TV, and cocoon. There were all sorts of things I said I would do as soon as our lives returned to normal, but I haven't done them. Well, I have been working out more regularly, which is wonderful, but that's it. I don't care about planning ahead. I don't care about being social. Yes, I want to figure out a new fertility plan. Yes, I want to see my friends again. Yes, I want to plan a vacation. In fact, I think I really need a vacation at this point. Yes, I still want to sign up for a writing workshop. Yes, we probably should start thinking about buying a second car.

Instead though, I've read something like six books in two weeks...baked a pie (my first lattice top crust ever)...made cupcakes...cleaned the ktichen...done laundry...walked Seamus...lost a chess game to John...had many lovely conversations with John...and watched several episodes of The Tudors. I'm becoming quite the expert on 16th century religious debates and royal controversies. I have managed to resist cleaning the bathrooms though. So we know I'm still me.

I'm just me on a little hiatus from my usual forward-moving self.

I've been sitting here trying to think of something cheerful to write, you know, for a change of pace. And even though I actually feel pretty ok right now, I'm coming up blank. Let's see. I had a good spinning class tonight. The guy who teaches it has a good sense of humor and also seems to have the same sort of wide-ranging and eccletic taste in music that I have. That makes the class much more enjoyable. Tonight's cooldown song was by The Cure, which I personally felt was awesome.

I'm pleased that tomorrow is Friday. Having yesterday off just made me long for the weekend.

Oh! Becky and I are going to see Carbon Leaf and the Pat McGee Band at Wolf Trap tomorrow. I am really looking forward to that. One of the things I've always liked about Wolf Trap is that they try to class it up by allowing you to bring your own food and wine to eat on the lawn. I'm bringing the fancy picnic basket John and got as a wedding gift. We used it once on our honeymoon, and then didn't look at it again for five years. Well, except for bringing it here when we moved, I guess. Then I pulled out last weekend because we went on a picnic with John's relatives, and now here I am, using it again already.

What are you feeling cheerful about today?

I always have a plan. I love making lists. Not quite to the point where I make lists of lists, but I usually have multiple lists going. You can’t pile everything in to one big list. They don’t work as well that way.

But for almost the last three months, I’ve been living very day to day. Well, not at work, although I will admit to feeling a bit overwhelmed at everything that has to be done right now at work, now that I’m back and fully focused on all of my projects. From the moment we knew Nora was sick, it felt like there was always someone doing something to disrupt any plans that John or I tried to make, looking for ways to create drama in a situation where we really didn’t need any more drama, and generally making life more difficult than it needed to be. My sister-in-law seems to be quite determined to continue being disruptive, and I am just as determined to find a way to put an end to it. John and I deserve our lives back. So, today, in honor of the 4th of July, I’m declaring our independence from family bullshit. My sister-in-law can try to make as many problems as she can think up in her pretty little head; we will not play her game. Instead, we will:

• Stop living in crisis mode and instead proceed with our lives as normally as possible. Recover our old routines. Remember what it’s like to not run around all the time.

• Get back on track with our fitness goals. I have gained six pounds since Easter, which pisses me off more than you can possibly imagine. Now instead of being seven pounds away from my next (not final) weight loss goal, I am 13 pounds away from it. I wish I could be one of those people who loses weight when they get stressed out instead of strapping on the comfort food feedbag. Yes, part of it was that I was spending my evenings with Nora instead of going to the gym, but that’s not all of it.

• Come up with a new fertility treatment plan. It seems like every time I think we’re getting ready, some other new obstacle raises its head. Hopefully that’s just the universe trying to teach me patience and our time will come.

• Schedule a nice vacation somewhere. I think we’ve earned it. Our big trip to Europe will be re-scheduled for next spring or summer, but I’m not waiting that long for a big chunk of relaxation time.

• And a whole lot more…just as soon as I get to make a proper list!

We had the funeral on Thursday. John wrote and delivered a beautiful, moving eulogy. The priest spoke of Nora's life not having ended, but instead having changed as she left this existence behind. I don't think he meant it in the way I interpreted it, but still, I appreciated the convergence of philosophies that allowed both the serious Catholics and the heathens like me to walk away feeling well satisfied with what he'd said. I thought I would be more disturbed by leaving her at the cemetery, but it wasn't as awful as I had made it out to be in my head. Funerals apparently do serve the purpose for which they are intended, and make it easier to accept death and to say goodbye. We had a small wake at Nora's house afterwards, and then made our way home, utterly exhausted.

Friday we spent together, just the two of us and Seamus, trying to recover from the effects of the last 10 weeks. We've been on high alert since Easter, with family battles raging, and Nora steadily declining, and relatives from all over the globe coming and going. I've been so impressed by the way other people have acted throughout this period of our lives, although most particularly in the week since Nora died. My friends have been outstanding, whether they were Seamus-sitting, attending the funeral, listening to me complain, listening to me cry or generally offering support. My family has been lovely, even my dad. Everyone at work from the people on my team, to my boss, to my boss's boss said "Don't worry, we've got everything covered, take the time you need to be with your husband." Even people who don't know me, like the guy at Kinkos who helped me do the programs for the funeral, were just wonderful. And of course, my friends in the computer. Thank you to everyone who has been so kind to us recently.

Now the challenge will be to get back to normal. It will be nice to find the old rhythms our lives and take them back up again.