Oh dear…

So, it turns out, I’ve gained about 50 pounds in the past year and a half.  Literally 50.  Like the size of a kindergartner.
The only glass-is-half-full factor about this is that at least it isn’t quite the fattest that I’ve ever been.  But give me 10 more pounds.

Pitifully, I don’t feel supremely motivated to correct this.  It was so much damn work to get there in the first place; it’s hard to imagine doing it all over again.

And yet, it was really nice fitting into size 8’s.  I wasn’t slim, but I also wasn’t a fat girl.
What I feel the most is shame that my David met me when I was that other person, and then I turned back into the regular fat version.  Feels a bit like I tricked him.

It was just so much easier to be self punishing when I was in the throes of a horrible relationship, hating him and hating myself.  And Happy Maggie is a Lazy Maggie.  Who likes cheese.

Boo.

And hiss.

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Thirty

David

David turns thirty

My sweet boy turned 30 years old on Saturday.

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Retro Techno

I’ve become obsessed with photography.  And like, all of my obsessions, I struggle with a paradoxically insanity of simultaneously believing in my own awesomeness and despairing that I won’t ever be good enough.  The obvious question is “good enough for what?”  To which, I would dance the dance of avoidance and skittering until I finally admit that I want IT.  IT being fortune and glory, of course.

I obsess over Twitter, checking and rechecking to see if I’ve made it on to Favrd.  My little heart weeps over and over that I can’t hang with the cool kids of Twitter fame.  I wish to be a good writer.  But wishing and composing 140 characters of quip is the extent of my willingness to be actually be a good writer.
I obsess over music, searching for one new unknown band after another.  I chase down leads based on “If you like ____, then you may like ____,” wasting hours, one dollar at a time.  And the next thing I know, my latest find is featured on Grey’s Anatomy and an Appple commercial.
Most recently, I have become crazed about photography, and this makes me cringe with sheepishness.  If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past 2 1/2 years, it’s that everyone thinks they’re a photographer.  And oh god, now I think I’m one of them?  So here’s the thing:  I used to have a little Canon Elph, and then after I started to catch the bug, I bought a G9, which was a $500 camera that I replaced within 2 months with a EOS XS.  Which is to say, that I just started throwing money at my obsession and then I just started getting more and more obsessed.
I check Flickr non-stop to check how many views I’ve had, if there are any comments, and the cherry at the bottom of my shirley temple, if any photos have been starred.  I’ve started making contacts with strangers, and commenting on their photos, just because it gets them to comment back for me.  Admitting this makes me feel like such a loser, although if I could get dozens of complimentary comments and hundreds of views in aday the way it seems like everyone else on Flickr can, then I would embrace my loser like a long lost loser.
Anyway.
This is all just to preface that I got myself a new toy, and I LURVE it.  It’s a digital plastic camera called a Zumi, or technically, a Digital Harinezumi.  It takes retro style pictures with 70’s color and saturation, like a Holga or lomo camera.  And it is a tiny, wee little thing like a spy camera.
Meerkat using the Zumi!

Meerkat using the Zumi!

I don’t have to develop the film, and can just load the pictures from the miniature little memory card.  The pictures are definitely different, but cool.  The Zumi isn’t going to help make me a super duper photog, but I sure am going to have fun playing with it.  To hell with being awesome for a minute.
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Who’s a big baby

I just spent 3 consecutive nights in the household of a 10 1/2 month old.
I have never been so exhausted in my entire life.

People with babies talk about that tiredness, so I know this isn’t earth shattering information.  But damn.

Nicole has been complaining about being exhausted, and in a fit of morning sickness and a dirty toilet, she asked for some help.  So I picked a weekend to go and imagined that I’d spend 48 hours in a beatitude of cleanliness and wholesome, delicious meals.  Instead, I quickly got sucked into the miasma and succumbed to any opportunity to nap.

2 days and 3 nights.  That’s how long I spent with my nephew Max.  And oh my god.  I couldn’t help but be horrified.  People desperately want these things!  And, I want one of those things!  But it’s so awful!  Oh, the sweet, sweet conflict.

Max, 10 1/2 months old

Max, 10 1/2 months old

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Filed under Family, Friends and other Humans

This week

This week, I participated in a chicken tikka masala taste test, with the David and some lovely friends, Ali and Cooper (the good egg).
We indian-restaurant-hopped to 4 different places and picked up 4 different orders of CTM and then tried them all.  Surprisingly, the favorite wasn’t Naan ‘n Curry, but Kabana, a whole in the wall in Berkeley.
I got exceedingly full from this experiment, but I loved it.  And I love having a person like Ali who will not only indulge in such tomfoolery, but who also delights in it!  The boys were definitely of the indulgent inclination regarding this experiment, but I think they ended up enjoying it.

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Exactly half

I turn 32 years old today, which is how old my mother was when she had me.

Turning 31 was a little scary, because it was the first year of just settling in to the *thirties.*
So I’ve settled now.  A bunch of days passed.  I turned 32.

I would like 32 to be the year that I make some good headway at being a grown-up.
It’s time to find a new job.  One that I love.  One that inspires me to work hard again.
I’d like to get a handle on my finances.  I won’t be able to clear it up in a year.  But I would like to be able to say in a year’s time that I’m in a better place that I’m in today.  Laughable as it may be, I’d like to have a thousand dollars in my special savings account nicknamed “house savings – do NOT withdraw!”
I hope to be a good, reliable partner.  I have such welling for the David.  I need to learn to have patience and care for this person who can not read my mind and isn’t here just to agree with me.

I could keep listing the things that I want to do, want to improve upon.  But I also don’t want to set up the expectation that is the year of self help.  Because I rather like the self I have.

thirty second birthday

thirty second birthday

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Vacation is now far, far behind me

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On Monday, I will have been back from England for 2 whole weeks.  Oh, how very long ago that seems.  Today is my ninth day back at work and, well, sigh.

In any case, though, the trip was really lovely, but very fast.  We spent 2 nights with David’s parents, 2 nights in London, 2 nights with David’s sister, and a last night with an aunt and uncle.  Most days, then, we were busy with the coming and going.

Meeting the parents was fine.  I don’t think we’ll be terribly close friends, but they did make an effort.  In fact, David’s mom even made a kidney free version of steak and kidney pie for me.  Which was mortifying, actually.  When push comes to shove, I guess I will eat the kidneys rather than have a special dinner made just for me, the lame American.  I’m still rather glad that I didn’t have to eat kidneys, though.

I was fascinated by the dinners I was served, specifically by the gravy that always came with dinner.  Both David’s mom and his sister served dinner with these little crockery pitchers of gravy.  Perfect Gravy.  And this allowed them to also serve a medley of vegetables that had been steamed, and nothing else.  Who cares how you prepped your veggies if you’re just gonna pour gravy all over them?  It turns out that it’s not me who cares about such things.
David has told me, though, that the gravy comes from a tin of powder that you mix with water.  They didn’t actually make gravy.

David got to meet his niece for the first time, and he loved her and just wanted to hold her always.  It was very sweet.  He already seems to get along pretty well with babies in general.  In fact, when we were hanging out with Max, long after I had given up trying to soothe the inconsolable and just started taking pictures of the sad, sad pitiful teary faces, David was still trying to hug and rock and amuse that kid.  But he says that definitely felt a special love for this baby.  It makes me sorry that we are just so far away.

I had that feeling a lot, actually – the feeling of just how too bad it is that we or he can’t be around this more often.  It was kind of a scary thought to have as I kept imagining “Could I live here?”

The pub culture was excellent.  I could have happily just hung out in pubs all day long.  I had a strong penchant for pubs with Something & Something names, like The Dog & Duck or The Coach & Horses. I didn’t see one with a Hedgehog in the title, but I think I really would have liked that.  As I was ever on the lookout for an actual hedgehog.  Alas, though, none quivered a nose at me the whole time.

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Let the wild rumpus start

I have no rumpus to speak of, unless we’re referring to my tush.  That bit has gotten gargantuan enough that it may have graduated from rump to rumpus for sure.

But still, no rumpus in the traditional sense of the word.

With no debacle or drama, I’ve lost some motivation for writing.  But when I think of all the little things that have happened in the past month or so, they rather add up to something.

Work has gotten more and more abysmal, with seemingly no hope for improvement.  The actual work there is to do is unforgivably boring and tedious.  Just now, I had to respond to someone whose question was “I tried to upgrade my software, but when I open it again, it’s the same version.”  And that’s it.  So I have to write back and basically say “What do you mean you tried to upgrade?  What did you DO?”
My despair about my working day goes in cycles varying from Bored Numb Zombie to Scathing Bitter Gremlin.  Whatever part of the cycle it may be, there is sure to be a mythical creature involved.

I think I have a good feeling for what it I would like to be doing.  I had some hope that I’d be able to do it here, but it’s not looking so good.  To combat this stagnation, I’ve signed myself up for classes in Project Management that should ultimately end in certification.  But that’s a year’s goal away from now.  We’ll see.  Class #1 was this past Wednesday, though, and so far so good.

Meanwhile, the brother was laid off, which was a constant possibility considering he wasn’t actually doing any work for six months.  But it finally happened.  Just in time for Nicole to have quit her job to stay at home with Max.  So very quickly, they went from being the family that hangs out at home together 24/7 but getting paid to do it, to being the family that stays at home together 24/7 and being paid the same amount that any of the rest of us would be for a lotta rumpus sitting at home.

Max, however, is unphased and has been exploring the fine art of walking.

I am in love with this song:

and this one:

And! I’m going to England on Sunday!  Via first class!  I will be meeting David’s parents and his niece, Elizabeth.  And also going to England!

That’s as far as today’s motivation took me.  Until next time, then…

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Neighborhood Maps

Ork PosterLove love love the maps of Ork Posters, designed by Jenny Beorkrem.

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366 Days

Yesterday was the one year anniversary of our first date.

While I wax poetic on how lucky I am and how happy I’ve been, the fellow is off in Yosemite for a long weekend and I’m actually feeling rather mournful. I miss him.

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Filed under Momentousness, The David