Goodbye, My Friend

I have a friend, an e-friend if you want to be particular, whose blog I read everyday. I have found her to be dealing with many of the same issues I am dealing with and to always be thoughtful and well-written, humorous at times -- a person I would enjoy hanging out with in "real" life.

I went to read her blog today and it has been taken down. I wonder if she made the choice to sacrifice a little of herself, a little more of her freedom, to commit herself more completely to the whole. I wonder if she believes it is the right choice. I wonder if they do. I do not know what decision I would have made in her place. I do know I will very much miss reading her thoughts on her world... a world paralleled by my own. I hope all involved will grow in love and kindness, understanding and acceptance. I hope I will one day again read her words to the world.

This is for her:

~~~~~~~
I tried to read your words today
but they no longer echo.
I tried to hear your spirit today
but it no longer remains.

Your voice no longer carries
down the crowded hall.

The voices in your life
converse more peaceably,
perhaps, when your voice
in the ether
is silenced.

The voice in your heart,
I know,
will bring you truth.

Peace be with you,
and all
who surround
you.
~~~~~~~~


Godspeed, my friend.

Taking the Bait (Second Post Today)

I did it, LauraJ... sent some pictures to be posted at The Shape of a Mother. It is a wonderful blog and her goals are laudable. It was disheartening to read though; so many of the pictures there were from people who were beautifully slender and still fretting about how they looked. So, rather than just sigh and wish that someone my size would post pictures so I could feel better, I sent pictures in. Maybe I can inspire another larger woman to do that to.

I have to wonder why those slender women felt so poorly about themselves. Is it that they were so perfect before the baby that the least imperfection seems to skyrocket impossibly high on the parabolic curve? Are only those who know, at least subconsciously, that their bodies once conformed to our culture's notion of physical perfection brave enough to put their bodies on display (even on such a supportive site as this)?

I also have to wonder why so many slender women posted and so few larger women. Are the slender women less comfortable with their bodies? Common sense would seem to say no. Are they looking for reassurance that their bodies are still beautiful? That makes me so sad. I can see their beauty easily. I doubt they would say the same.

I will fully admit that I have a hard time listening to/reading about slim women fretting over their baby pooch. I would venture to say that many heavier women do. This is, perhaps, a result of too many sideways glances from too many catty yet "perfect" skinny girls followed by whispered comments. If you are a slender woman, please do not be offended by my comments; I do realize that any change in one's body can be disheartening no matter your size. It just reminds me of another story... I was facing potential thyroid surgery (I didn't wind up having a thyroid problem) and was discussing specialists with another member of the chorus I sang in. She had nothing but praise for her surgeon and said something along the lines of, "and my range is still just as large as it was... oh, but you're an alto so it doesn't matter."

Because my voice was lower than hers, she discounted the importance of keeping my singing voice intact. Likewise, I often feel discounted by slender women saying, in essence "well, you were big anyway; it can't be as hard for you." If anything, it's more demoralizing. The voices of self-doubt and self-recrimination shriek more loudly than ever. Most of us larger women start with a much lower threshhold of self-esteem, leaving us far lower yet after gaining yet more weight.

At any rate, I feel for these poor girls, that they can't appreciate their nearly flat bellies, their elegantly slim arms, their impossibly long and slender legs, even as part of me wishes they could know, just for a day or two, what being heavy is like. I feel for the heavy women who don't dare post their pictures, the ones that dread the mirror even as their psyche draws them to it to pick at their flaws.

But, mostly, I feel tired. And that the fight against my body's shape is futile.

Oh, and I hate that fucking weight routine. (You'll understand that comment if she posts my pictures and comments on the site.)

Update: You can go and read my "story" and see the pictures. They're posted now.

Good God!

Ok, I did the University Quiz... and, without trying to manipulate it at all and on the first run through, came up as my alma mater. Guess I picked right all those years ago!

You're Smith College!

An ardent feminist and generally progressive person, you
seek to defy convention in many settings. You've also stood up for gay
rights and helped influence those around you to do the same. At the same
time, there are aspects of your personality that are quite standardized,
to say nothing of your name. You don't want anyone who's going to spend
time with you to live far away, and this can be seen as either clingy or
simply friendly. Your favorite Scooby Doo character is Velma.


Take the University Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Dreaming My Life Away

Take a helping of Quantum Leap, a dash of Groundhog Day, and a sprinkle of Stargate SG-1 and you wind up with my dreams last night.

For much of the night, I dreamed I was trapped in time loop. As each loop ended and the next began, I'd jump into a new person/scenario. One thing, however, was consistent. Someone was trying to kill me. For hours, it went on. (It was one of those dreams where you wake up to pee and you go back to sleep and you're back in the dream.) All night, I ran from people trying to kill me.

Finally, about 7:00 a.m., people finally stopped trying to kill me and I got to a nice cozy dream featuring a very snuggly Richard Dean Anderson and the baby starts crying. And then screaming. Now, two things pop into my head here: 1) Where the hell is John
who is on baby duty until I get up at 7:30 and 2) why the hell did she have to cry during the happy dream and not when people were trying to off me??

Enquiring minds want to know!!

Enquiring minds also hope that RDA puts in a repeat appearance tonight but that all dream assassins go elsewhere. Please.

There's Not Enough Vodka In The World

John's Really Obnoxious Uncle is staying with us. (Which is why I haven't responded to everyone's comments on the last post; I will, I promise.) This guy talks more than my mother.

I didn't think that was possible.

He just doesn't shut up. If there's nothing being discussed in the car, he will read street signs (out loud) a la Billy Crystal's father-in-law character in Forget Paris. He claps loudly to make my daughter blink. He talks over people. He criticizes constantly.

There is not enough vodka in the world to make this bearable.

67 Trivialities

Willow wanted trivia... blame her!

1. I am the oldest of 3 children.
2. I lost my virginity on November 8, 1984.
3. Sometimes I regret Fact No. 2 but only because the sex was so good and my marital sex is so not.
4. I got my private pilot's license on April 22, 2004.
5. My FAA written examination for my instrument rating expired last month.
6. Fact No. 5 annoys the hell out of me.
7. I share my birthday with Great Britain's current Queen Elizabeth.
8. Despite her poor fashion sense, I'm relieved Fact No. 7 relates to Queen Elizabeth and not Dubya.
   
9. It's been 17 years since I was graduated from college and 21 years since the New York State Board of Regents saw fit to graduate me from high school.
10. Fact No. 9 makes me feel positively ancient.
11. I like nice shoes and handbags.
    
12. Speaking of shoes, not a single pair of my shoes fit after I had the baby.
13. Fact No. 12 still upsets me but mostly because I can't find any cute replacement shoes.
14. I went to an elementary school with an open classroom environment.
15. I love to wrap presents elegantly.
16. I really like to get presents but only if they show the person put some thought into it.
17. Sometimes I still make believe.
18. I wrote/write X-Files and Stargate fanfic.
19. I'm embarassed to admit Fact No. 18 to 3D friends and wouldn't dream of admitting Fact No. 17 to anyone I had to face.
    
20. I am obsessively controlling about my Christmas tree. No one else is allowed to touch it.
21. I don't care that Fact No. 20 is true. It's my tree, dammit.
22. My 3D friends laugh about Fact No. 20 but admit I have one of the best decorated Christmas trees they've ever seen (even as they are sneakily trying to rearrange ornaments to see if I notice). I do notice. Every time.
23. I have met some really wonderful people online.
24. I am a good party planner.
25. I am a very bad athlete. (Very, very bad athlete.)
26. I absolutely hate my exercise routine but do it anyway.
27. My sunburn itches.
28. I hate it when people are mad at me.
29. I am a perfectionist.
30. Due to Fact No. 29, I constantly feel I'm not good enough.
31. Up until January, I didn't have a single cavity in my teeth.
32. I blame the one cavity I now have on having been pregnant.
33. I hate my mousy hair and dye it Dana Scully Red when I can afford to.
34. I feel guilty when someone is working and I am not (like right now while John is polishing furniture and I'm blogging).
35. My favorite comedian is Dennis Miller and I stopped watching Saturday Night Live when he left.
    
36. I like to wear black.
37. I figured out how to read at age 3.
38. I'm awful at math.
39. I bruise easily.
40. I like most kinds of music but am not into rap.
41. Fact No. 40 aside, I am partial to Baby Got Back because my own backside is large.
42. I would look ridiculous shaking that backside unlike the dancers on the Baby Got Back music video.
43. I love to tango.
44. I love to get very, very dressed up (ballgown, etc.) but have very little occasion to.
45. The only way I can remember that there are fewer oxygen molecules per square inch of air when it's warmer is to picture an airfilled balloon expanding as it heats over a candle.
46. I really appreciate my flight instructor sharing Fact No. 45 with me.
47. I once bit into a creme filled doughnut on the wrong side, squeezing white creme all over my chin in a room full of male pilots.
    
48. Due to Fact No. 47, I am now thoroughly convinced that men's first thought about anything is how it relates to sex.
49. I like to drive very fast with my windows and sunroof open and the radio blasting.
50. I listen to All Things Considered and Car Talk on NPR when I'm in the car at the right time.
51. I wanted to be an astronaut when I grew up.
52. I always figured I'd've changed the world by now.
53. Reading the Alumnae Quarterly makes me feel like a failure.
54. Ich spreche ein bisschen Deutsch.
55. I am trying to learn French on CD.
    
56. Fact No. 55 is not working.
57. I also am trying to learn Quenya.
    
58. Fact No. 57 is working better than fact No. 56 but needs more time than I can put into it now.
59. I have my own business but still have a part time job.
    
60. I used to sell Lancome in addition to the jobs in Fact No. 59.
    
61. I love the way the word "linoleum" feels in my mouth when I say it.
62. I find flatulence very funny.
63. I sing.
64. I think most people who believe they have awful voices actually can sing but were convinced otherwise by some jerk earlier in their lives.
    
65. I can't keep a straight face and say the words "prune juice".
66. Heck, it appears I can't keep a straight face and type the words "prune juice".
67. I sing the first verse of Taps to my daughter as I put her in her crib for the night.

And I will wish you all a goodnight the same way.

Day is done.
Gone the sun from the lake, from the hills, from the sky.
All is well.
Safely rest.
God is nigh.

The Postponing Post

I will take up that challenge, Willow, but I'm not sure yet how I want to handle it (i.e., a long list at once, random lists of ten doled out equally randomly, etc.)

So, first, I'm going to post about my Day Off. Yes, I got a Day Off yesterday. No job, no baby. The first in the nearly 10 months Katie's been here. John got up with her in the a.m., I had a totally free day. ::dances on the tables in remembered rejoicing::

I tagged along on a friend's flight lesson and then we flew out to Martha's Vinyard and went to the beach. (I, being the dingbat I am, didn't realize we'd be going to the beach and wound up with no towel, no swimsuit, and no sunscreen. Not to worry! Mommy's Day Off was still a success. I borrowed a towel, played in some great waves in my clothes, got enough sand in enough places to fill a small sandbox, and am definitely crispy around the edges.)

I suppose it should concern me that I was able to go off and leave my baby for an entire day, shouldn't it? It didn't and, you know what?, it still doesn't. (Mommy needs a day off too and I was a much nicer mommy today than I typically am on a Monday.) I did call home 2 or 3 times but that was primarily because John worries when I fly. John and the baby did fine and agreed that I should have a Mommy's Day Off once a month. He has his issues, as do we all, but I thank the heavens that this is not one of them!!

Total Lust

I love small airplanes. I mean really small airplanes. I did my private in a Cessna 152. (For those who don't know, it's a tiny 2 seater -- basically a flying Yugo -- barely big enough for 2 people and barely enough load for 2 people and a couple of headsets.) I had to move up to a Piper Cherokee Warrior when I started my instrument but part of me still really misses that little Cessna. Yeah, it's a kite in the wind. Trim? Who bothers to trim? With a 152 in *any* kind of turbulence, trim is just about useless. Yeah, you have to get good at crosswind landings because it's not going to land itself. A 152 wants to fly and that's a good part of its charm. The 152 wants to fly as much as I do. But it is pretty much a flying Yugo and is distinctly not sexy.

Enter the
Liberty XL2

I want this aircraft. No, I want this aircraft. No, that doesn't quite do it either... I w a n t this aircraft.

Ok, let's be honest... I am in total lust with this aircraft.

Burn rate similar to a 152 (5.5/hr), almost a 600 lb useful load, all that glass...
my God, the glass.

This is one fucking sexy airplane.