Blogs Are Stupid

Doesn't anyone believe in Dear Diary anymore? What happened to the joy of putting actual pen to paper? And why does every ordinary Jane and John think they can write well enough to burden the world with their scribblings? It’s a mystery that badly needs solving. My first entry contains my thoughts about blogging and will set your expectations. The rest will probably be stream of consciousness garbage, much like you’ll find on any other blog. Perhaps we will both come away enlightened.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Ch Ch Ch Changes

At first, it's hard to see the changes.

They are not profound or life altering when you have such a long journey ahead of you. But small things, such as being able to paint one's own toenails without becoming hypoxic, become big milestones. A person has to have something to celebrate each and every day, or they simply cannot keep going.

This is why Weight Watchers teaches their members to celebrate "non-scale" victories. Because sometimes, no matter how many times you talked yourself out of eating a whole bag of caramel covered Bugles and ate exactly five caramel rice cakes instead, the scale refuses to cooperate. And that just suuuuuuuuuuuuucks. So if you can remind yourself that the pants you are wearing used to be standing up only pants, but today you had to put on a belt in order to avoid looking like a middle aged hip hop devotee....then you can believe yourself when you tell yourself it was worth it.

But the big changes do come. And sometimes they are startling.

There is a habit I got from my father, who perhaps got it from his father or his mother, but who really knows...when I am lost in thought or concentrating deeply or even just zoning out, I sometimes place my hand at the base of my throat and rest my chin at the juncture or my thumb and forefinger. I have no idea why. I am rarely aware that I am doing it.

One day I was reading, doing the weird throat thing, unaware as usual, when I noticed a largish lump on my chest. A spear of fear sliced through my belly. Those of you know know me well, know that I am acutely aware of ny odd or ominous changes in my body and always assume the worst. Thus, the strange lump was obviously a harbinger of some horrible disease and ultimately, my doom.

What the fuck is that??? Is it a tumor? A bone growth? An espohageal anamoly? Sweet Jesus what IS that?? Could it be scleroderma? Neurofibromatosis? Proteus Syndrome?

Clearly, Google is not a boon for someone with my erm...tendencies.

I probed ginergly, assessing, mentally listing the characteristics of the lump; firm, non-spongy, immobile, seemingly elongated, somewhat curved...

And then, quite suddenly, my racing heart slowed, my hands stopped trembling and the roiling in my stomach subsided. Because I realized that the mysterious lump on my chest was, in fact a rib; one of the uppermost, attached to my breastbone.

You? Are a neurotic dumbass.

I berated myself for being such an idiot, but really, I didn't care at that point. I was just glad I was going to live. I probably don't have to tell you how traumatic it was the day my tailbone made it's presence known. Anything in the ass area can send me into a tailspin, (heh) so let's just wasn't pretty.

But mostly, the changes are exciting and uplifting and really, really gratifying. One thing people don't really realize is that you lose weight in  your feet. Yes, your feet. My feet have shrunk about a size and a half. And now I can wear all kinds of delicate, strappy, distresssingly insubstantial but moutwateringly beautiful foot confections. I don't even care if I can walk in the damned things. I just want to stand there and revel in the slutty glory.

That kind of makes up for the fact that I'm cutting my knees and ankles to ribbons because I'm completely unaccostomed to shaving around bony protuberances.

It's going to take some time to get used to this body, but I'm not giving it back.



  • At 1:31 PM, Blogger Just Words On A Page said…

    My big change was the ability to sit and cross my legs, and not at my ankles:)

    I am so happy for you!

  • At 2:02 PM, Blogger Margaret said…

    That is so funny, but poignant. I still have trouble shaving my skinny legs without slicing myself up. Yikes. Great post!

  • At 10:19 PM, Anonymous Dyann said…

    Keep telling me this's so inspiring. So much that I'm equally distressed and excited about my daughter going to kindergarten in the fall. I'll miss her with every ounce of my being, but I need to get my fat ass to Zumba and weight watchers!! Your posts inspire me so much that I want to get up and go there RIGHT NOW!!!

  • At 5:51 PM, Blogger Amy Y said…

    Good for you!!! :)

    And I'm SO glad it was just a rib ;)


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