January 24th, 2016

2013, cyd, new


It is still weird to me, after 16 years here, healing from the Eastern winters, to watch non-stop coverage of blizzards on the CNN and still be able to walk outside and smoke a cigarette. If I’m willing to deal with the wind, which drops the temp to 50.

Kelli sent me a picture of the bus stop this morning. Evil, evil snow. And Doc bitches about having to wait at the bus stop here. No more of that. He shut his mouth today after he saw that picture. He has to wear gloves sometimes, she has to put warmers in her boots with her three pair of socks. I wish she would move back out here. Once Peyton goes to college, maybe she will. Only ten more years.

The shore house in Ocean City is flooded, I’m sure. The water was coming in from the bay, and the back yard sits on the bay. Literally. Well, in the bay. They’re selling it, I won’t get back there. The next time Doc and I go to a beach, we will be staying at a hotel.

I’ve given up my dream of going back to Disneyland. I’m still obsessed with Tigger and Pooh and the gang, and Disney in general. I’ve just been reading a lot about it. Tourist experiences, good and bad. Family and just married people. And one thing comes clear, it is not the same place I remember. Going there will not fulfill my desire to return to a happy time in my childhood. It will just overwhelm me and scare and confuse me. And I don’t want that. I don’t want to mar my memories with that.

The last time I went, when I was younger, my mom took an autograph book, and I took my Instamatic camera and took pictures inside of all of my favorite rides. I still have those pictures, and those, and souvenirs and maps and pictures will have to do me. And I think I’m zen with that. I’m giving up a 25 year old dream, but I’m doing it because the reality no longer matches the dream. So, it’s okay. “And I’m feeling very different,today.”

2013, cyd, new

Same Old Argument

I’ll say this here, because I can’t possibly say it to Doc, again, without sounding mean. I do not like soup. I do not eat soup, except on rare occasions. I do not like the soups that we have. I like potato leek soup. That said, history, both recent and past, have shown that when I am forced to eat something I don’t like, I reflexively throw it up. So it’s just wasted food.

Doc has not done the shopping since he got his new shift. He has done some shopping, getting milk and a few other items, but nothing on my list of things I want to eat. And he keeps going so late that the deli is closed and he can’t get sandwich stuff for me, which is the easiest thing for me to get my calories from. I’m mad about this, but I can’t say anything without hurting his feelings and bringing on an onslaught of excuses. Mainly that he is in pain. But he won’t go to a doctor to see about the pain, so it’s just this long-running joke now, he’s always in pain, he can’t do anything, blah blah blah. And he won’t do anything about it.

cyd004aDoc and I teamed up to give me a rather drastic undercut on my hair. I love it. I have the freedom of short hair, and still have my vanity, my long hair. I am so much cooler, temperature-wise. And the hair is easier to care for, of course, and so much easier and faster to straighten. It just looks funny curly now.

And I’m still steadily losing weight. I’m a solid 36″ waist now. 2 more inches to go. And that’s mainly off my stomach and love handles. But my stomach is shrinking, I no longer look pregnant in the wrong shirts. And I found a couple of my favorite shirts I haven’t been able to wear because fat. And I found one shirt that I bought almost three years ago that I thought was too small for me. Then yesterday I figured out that it stretched really easily and evenly, so I got to wear it. It’s the only scoop neck thing I have, I think it looks like a “mom shirt”, but hey, no one saw me but you guys and all of Facebook.