At least, this time I bawled with gratitude for the email I got from Monica this morning. I thrive on nurturing, loving compliments from those who really matter to me. Lord knows I always give it to them.
***************************
C,
Thank you so much for being such a great friend.
Last night was the most fun I've had in a while. I didn't realize how much the isolation would bum me out. Having you come over and hang with me means a lot, more than you can know.
If you want to make a walking date for a couple of times a week, count me in. Of course Desi has to come too which may or may not be a pain.
I haven't read your blog but understand your frustration. I know I have said this before but you are not only beautiful inside and out but amazing in a zillion other ways. The people that don't glimpse your attributes beyond physical are missing out and ultimately are the ones who lose out. You are fortunate to connect with those that see all of you and get to weed out the duds without the hassel. You are a great friend and person and don't you forget it!
Hugs,
Mon
Friday, December 7, 2007
Feeling Minnesota
I copied and pasted the following from the blog of my friend Brennen Leigh's older brother, Seth. He used to live in Austin, but now he's back in Minnesota. His blogs are always fascinating--one other great one I read was about him having coffee with a hooker in Costa Rica. Another is about a town in the south of France with a small municipal swimming pool that. He went to the pool to go swimming, but they wouldn't allow him to go in unless he changed. Turns out they don't allow men to wear swimming trunks in that pool, "for safety reasons". It's a rule that all male swimmers MUST wear Speedos. Seriously. And then they presented him with some that were lying in the Lost and Found box. This is the best thing: Seth plays with Brennen Leigh, and was in the south of France for the same festival I will be be playing next summer. So now I must add the "Speedo swimming pool" to my list of sights to see! Heehee.
Anyway, I digress. Here's something he wrote in his blog that makes me crave some REAL weather for a change. It reminds me of many old-timey stories I read voraciously in my girlhood.
******************************************************************
November 26, 2007
I just thought I should let you know about the first visit by Old Man Winter. Today was a tolerable day; temps were in the 30's and I didn't even have to bust out my hat and mittens.
However, as darkness fell, a terrible wind came roaring out of the northwest from across the lake -- taking most of the shingles on the far side of the roof with it. The oldtime thermometer on the garage door read 9 degrees. I suspect I will wake up to the sight of a frozen lake; the view we'll get to look at until about May Day, when the last snowbanks will finally disappear.
Alas, that is a long way off. It is best to resign oneself to the cycle of weight-gain, alcoholism, incessant bitching, and seasonal-affected depression that is just a way of life here in the Land of 10,000 Lakes. The weather man said this little system is just sort of a "tease" compared to the mess of an Alberta Clipper that's going to be unleashed upon the Red River Valley from the Great White North later this week. The guy on TV said the storm should only produce a few feet of snow and it shouldn't cause too much of a disruption.
In our culture of Scandinavian Optimism, this essentially means we're all toast. Think about temperatures that are ten times colder than your grandparents could ever exaggerate .. not being able to leave the house for five to seven days .. people being found buried alive in snowbanks or frozen in their cars in downtown Fargo .. school being cancelled because they can't FIND the school under all that snow .. just another day in the Upper Midwest.
So, the last outing of this fine evening found me fumbling around the yard with a flashlight that barely worked in a blinding snowstorm trying to retrieve all of the shingles that blew off the roof. As if that didn't sufficiently suck -- tomorrow I get to go up on the roof and put them back on in -10 degree windchill. Does a teetering ladder, icy steps, and gale-force winds sound like a good idea to you? If I should happen to survive this affair, I must also locate all of our deck furniture, eaves troughs, several trashcans and a large outdoor grill that has gone missing in the first blizzard of the season. Cheers.
Anyway, I digress. Here's something he wrote in his blog that makes me crave some REAL weather for a change. It reminds me of many old-timey stories I read voraciously in my girlhood.
******************************************************************
November 26, 2007
I just thought I should let you know about the first visit by Old Man Winter. Today was a tolerable day; temps were in the 30's and I didn't even have to bust out my hat and mittens.
However, as darkness fell, a terrible wind came roaring out of the northwest from across the lake -- taking most of the shingles on the far side of the roof with it. The oldtime thermometer on the garage door read 9 degrees. I suspect I will wake up to the sight of a frozen lake; the view we'll get to look at until about May Day, when the last snowbanks will finally disappear.
Alas, that is a long way off. It is best to resign oneself to the cycle of weight-gain, alcoholism, incessant bitching, and seasonal-affected depression that is just a way of life here in the Land of 10,000 Lakes. The weather man said this little system is just sort of a "tease" compared to the mess of an Alberta Clipper that's going to be unleashed upon the Red River Valley from the Great White North later this week. The guy on TV said the storm should only produce a few feet of snow and it shouldn't cause too much of a disruption.
In our culture of Scandinavian Optimism, this essentially means we're all toast. Think about temperatures that are ten times colder than your grandparents could ever exaggerate .. not being able to leave the house for five to seven days .. people being found buried alive in snowbanks or frozen in their cars in downtown Fargo .. school being cancelled because they can't FIND the school under all that snow .. just another day in the Upper Midwest.
So, the last outing of this fine evening found me fumbling around the yard with a flashlight that barely worked in a blinding snowstorm trying to retrieve all of the shingles that blew off the roof. As if that didn't sufficiently suck -- tomorrow I get to go up on the roof and put them back on in -10 degree windchill. Does a teetering ladder, icy steps, and gale-force winds sound like a good idea to you? If I should happen to survive this affair, I must also locate all of our deck furniture, eaves troughs, several trashcans and a large outdoor grill that has gone missing in the first blizzard of the season. Cheers.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Cold Hard Facts of Life
I'm going to get plenty of diverse opinions about this, but I hope it doesn't truly offend anyone.
********************************************************
You know what I think is really sad? That big women in our society are likely be alone for a longer time. I hate to say this, but it occurs to me that if I had a daughter (while I was raising her with plenty of exercise and healthy food), I would know that her chances of finding a long-term relationship might be significantly lessened if she were a big girl. I mean, I would NEVER want to put that pressure on a daughter, but it's true if you really think about it.
The majority of men in today's society absolutely do not consider women with fat rolls first, when thinking of a potential mate. They see a woman being 'fat' as an overall detractor, roughly equivalent to a potential mate not having a steady job, or being divorced or having kids, or something. Meaning it's a factor that is not insurmountable, but it's not an "ideal situation."
I mean, I understand that men are visual creatures by nature, who would prefer blossoming youthfulness-- smooth lines, soft skin, no body hair. Women are (subconsciously) angels to worship, and waifs to protect. I also know that this is something that many forward-thinking, sensitive men may not want to admit to themselves, let alone a woman.
Picture a smart, happy, healthy, loving, creative, active woman.
If this woman were skinny, it is a fact that she would find herself with significantly more romantic opportunities than a woman who is forty pounds overweight...even if otherwise, they were the exact same person. And yes, it is completely feasible that these two women may exercise the same amount, eat the same amount, and so on, and still one would be larger than the other one. But we all know it is a certainty that the smaller woman will meet more interested parties. With these odds in her favor, her chances of love, marriage, and children are greater than those of a larger woman.*
And so the American woman with the "unlucky" genes has a harder time in our society's "survival of the fittest" race. And it's a self-fulfilling prophecy as well, because the more times the bigger woman is passed over as a potential mate, the more bitter and resentful she becomes. Her self-esteem worsens and she becomes one tough nut indeed, allowing no interested parties into her world, or her heart, at all.
I think it's extremely unfortunate that our modern society has virtually gone against nature and trained all of us, men and women alike, to believe that waiflike thinness is more desirable for procreation.
Hmmm...possibly even more unfortunate is the fact that I'm already inwardly criticizing myself, because this entire blog seems "spoken like a fat woman angry at the world."
*Of course, what she does with these opportunities is another matter.
********************************************************
You know what I think is really sad? That big women in our society are likely be alone for a longer time. I hate to say this, but it occurs to me that if I had a daughter (while I was raising her with plenty of exercise and healthy food), I would know that her chances of finding a long-term relationship might be significantly lessened if she were a big girl. I mean, I would NEVER want to put that pressure on a daughter, but it's true if you really think about it.
The majority of men in today's society absolutely do not consider women with fat rolls first, when thinking of a potential mate. They see a woman being 'fat' as an overall detractor, roughly equivalent to a potential mate not having a steady job, or being divorced or having kids, or something. Meaning it's a factor that is not insurmountable, but it's not an "ideal situation."
I mean, I understand that men are visual creatures by nature, who would prefer blossoming youthfulness-- smooth lines, soft skin, no body hair. Women are (subconsciously) angels to worship, and waifs to protect. I also know that this is something that many forward-thinking, sensitive men may not want to admit to themselves, let alone a woman.
Picture a smart, happy, healthy, loving, creative, active woman.
If this woman were skinny, it is a fact that she would find herself with significantly more romantic opportunities than a woman who is forty pounds overweight...even if otherwise, they were the exact same person. And yes, it is completely feasible that these two women may exercise the same amount, eat the same amount, and so on, and still one would be larger than the other one. But we all know it is a certainty that the smaller woman will meet more interested parties. With these odds in her favor, her chances of love, marriage, and children are greater than those of a larger woman.*
And so the American woman with the "unlucky" genes has a harder time in our society's "survival of the fittest" race. And it's a self-fulfilling prophecy as well, because the more times the bigger woman is passed over as a potential mate, the more bitter and resentful she becomes. Her self-esteem worsens and she becomes one tough nut indeed, allowing no interested parties into her world, or her heart, at all.
I think it's extremely unfortunate that our modern society has virtually gone against nature and trained all of us, men and women alike, to believe that waiflike thinness is more desirable for procreation.
Hmmm...possibly even more unfortunate is the fact that I'm already inwardly criticizing myself, because this entire blog seems "spoken like a fat woman angry at the world."
*Of course, what she does with these opportunities is another matter.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
In the immortal words of Rusty Warren--"Getcher Knockers Up!"
I've been "ensconsing." That is, myself into my cozy little me-nest. I have a stack of good books to read, tasty and healthy food in the refrigerator, a (mostly) clean and organized living space. I have kicked up my exercise and my sleep and my water intake, and I am content.
Oh, I always have worries--about my upcoming trip, my record, keeping up my car, fearful dreams about more car accidents as this road trip looms, whether I'll be able to take a class this spring, whether I'll ever stop living under a shadow of fear (that all physical and mental surroundings that I've built for myself will be destroyed) ...and whether or not I can live with the fact that some I love dearly can feel themself doomed to unhappiness and live their lives accordingly, and I'll never really make that much of a difference whether or not I am in it.
I need joy. I do not want clouds cast on the moments that I have learned to enjoy. I MUST stamp those dark little feelings out rather than dwell on them, else I shall doom myself to a dark, sad little cycle within my own head, forever and ever and unable to escape. I choose instead to turn to the things which give me constant joy. A new kiss, lungs tight from running, bath steam rising hot above my reddened skin beneath the water. Jammies and hot tea and cute cats and the thrill of accomplishment when I finish a song or a piece of writing.
Although the company I invited to share my dinner last night never showed up (as is de rigeur for him), I didn't mind a bit because I already had something joyful, small as it was. I had researched some of my healthy-food cookbooks over the weekend and decided to try something new. I took bulgur wheat, ground beef, green beans, onions, garlic, spices and roasted tomatoes, topped it with parsley and romano cheese and baked it into a delicious Mediterranean peasant dish. It was perfect to eat while I watched rainforest-dwelling villages get crushed beneath the sumptuous, bloodthirsy Mayan empire...and wished I had the internet, so I could educate myself to my heart's content on pre-Columbian Mayan civilization. But even as I wished it, I didn't want to waste my time staring at another screen after the movie was over. Instead, I took to my bed with my new book and a freshly arrived fashion magazine with pretty pictures.
Inspiration, relaxation, and non-procrastination. For me, they are cornerstones of a healthy and happy existence.
Oh, I always have worries--about my upcoming trip, my record, keeping up my car, fearful dreams about more car accidents as this road trip looms, whether I'll be able to take a class this spring, whether I'll ever stop living under a shadow of fear (that all physical and mental surroundings that I've built for myself will be destroyed) ...and whether or not I can live with the fact that some I love dearly can feel themself doomed to unhappiness and live their lives accordingly, and I'll never really make that much of a difference whether or not I am in it.
I need joy. I do not want clouds cast on the moments that I have learned to enjoy. I MUST stamp those dark little feelings out rather than dwell on them, else I shall doom myself to a dark, sad little cycle within my own head, forever and ever and unable to escape. I choose instead to turn to the things which give me constant joy. A new kiss, lungs tight from running, bath steam rising hot above my reddened skin beneath the water. Jammies and hot tea and cute cats and the thrill of accomplishment when I finish a song or a piece of writing.
Although the company I invited to share my dinner last night never showed up (as is de rigeur for him), I didn't mind a bit because I already had something joyful, small as it was. I had researched some of my healthy-food cookbooks over the weekend and decided to try something new. I took bulgur wheat, ground beef, green beans, onions, garlic, spices and roasted tomatoes, topped it with parsley and romano cheese and baked it into a delicious Mediterranean peasant dish. It was perfect to eat while I watched rainforest-dwelling villages get crushed beneath the sumptuous, bloodthirsy Mayan empire...and wished I had the internet, so I could educate myself to my heart's content on pre-Columbian Mayan civilization. But even as I wished it, I didn't want to waste my time staring at another screen after the movie was over. Instead, I took to my bed with my new book and a freshly arrived fashion magazine with pretty pictures.
Inspiration, relaxation, and non-procrastination. For me, they are cornerstones of a healthy and happy existence.
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