I'll Never Write a Novel

The Memoir of a Personal Essayist OR Confessions of a Theatre Widow

Friday, October 26, 2007

The whitest, fattest girl in all of San Diego

So, I have been in San Diego for the last several days. Yes, it was spectacularly bizarre, and not just because Firestorm 2007 had created a blanket of smoke that wrapped up the city. The nice folks of San Diego made it odd all on their own.

I have never been to San Diego before. Maybe it's not a good time to judge. There were folks walking around with surgical masks as the air quality was labeled "Unhealthy." Perhaps the air quality was affecting other aspects of the city, but somehow I doubt that. In fact, I think it may come off as even stranger without the natural disaster.

What I found about San Diego, and maybe about So. Cal. as a whole, is that "normal" people like me, come off as the weird ones there. I was clearly the whitest, fattest girl in all of San Diego. There may be girls who are fatter and there may be girls who are whiter (although that's a tough call), but I am definitely the combination winner. It was ridiculous. All the women walking around downtown SD had toothpick legs, skeleton frames, golden tans and fake boobs. I don't go the trouble of discounting the boobs here because my nursing breasts are fabulously large, and totally real. But they are white. In fact, perhaps they are the definition of milky white...

It was a little brutal to feel like a chubby, pasty chick in the land of hotness, but, oddly, I felt okay. While all these people are undoubtedly hot, most of them weren't very pretty. And everyone looked the same age, which actually sounds creepy now that I am saying that. When you are 40, I am sure it's awesome to look 30, but it's not so cool when you are 16 and you may look like that same 40-year-old. I have looked the same age for years myself, but its alright by me. I have looked about 21 since I was 18. Being 30 now, and carded for movies somewhat recently, I'll take it.

Apparently I wasn't that worried about my weight while in California. I drank Sangria, ate at In & Out Burger, had dessert at the Ghiardelli shop, had cocktails with my husband, shared a Hershey Bar, indulged in a Monterey Omelet at a beach side restaurant, etc, etc. Wow, now that I am saying this all, it sounds like a darn fine vacation! Photos to come-- paleness and all!

Thursday, October 18, 2007

As an addendum to my last post, I think I realized what it was that was so wild about going to an office and working sans bebe the other day. It's all about focus. My focus is constantly split while working from home. I am at my happiest when I can be fully engaged in what I am doing. Ideally I could just spend all my time focused on The Little G. Sundays are usually my day that I get to be wife and mom. That's the best. The only days I really rest and focus on family are holidays. Sundays are the closest to a holiday as I can get. My life is ruled by expectations and I know that no one expects me to work on Christmas (Thanksgiving, Easter, etc.) so I don't have to worry about work. Aaaaahhh. Otherwise I never know when someone is going to try to hit me up with what they need.

**I started this post way too long ago and didn't finish it. I shall call it done now so I can move on.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

I Went to Work Today

I start this off by saying, "I went to work today." The verb "went" is the key here. I work every day. "Work" is an exceptionally common verb in my world. I never even took maternity leave, just kept working. Office work, house work, mama work, wife work, etc., etc. But today, I got up, got dressed in trouser jeans (note previous post about one pair of non-embarrassing pants), cute brown sweater and fabulous trench. I put on my make-up (ha ha), nursed the Lil' G, and was off. I stopped at Starbucks (ah, sweet coffee), and went to a downtown office to work. I have not gone to work for a meeting by myself in months. It actually felt good. How I appreciate my daughter and how lonely I am in her absence. But I have to say that it felt nice to be a smart, independent individual for a few hours. I am good at my job and it's good to have a moment or two to focus on my skills. I kind of rock.

I had a good meeting, talked about T-town business and answered some email. Then, I checked my mailbox (the papery kind), went to the bank, picked-up lunch and headed home. When I opened the door to be greeted by the sweetest, happy, squealing baby grin. My girl could enjoy seeing me, too, and it was a ridiculously happy moment for the Mama. Hooray!

I definitely don't want to "go" to work every day (I'd also actually like to "work" less, too). I like the idea of appreciating myself and my family more ofter, though. And, I like being appreciated. The change of pace is worthwhile and I need to stay on my toes.

For now, I have to get to "work."

Thursday, October 11, 2007

What to Wear?

When I was pregnant I reveled in the ability to enjoy privileges generally reserved for toddlers and the elderly. I am speaking most specifically about (1) naps and (2) ELASTIC WAIST PANTS. I had to capitalize the last part because I was genuinely that elated about it. I didn't have to rock a button, zipper or snap for months (no Amish jokes here). The naps were just icing on the proverbial gestational cake. I often said that I thought I might never go back to standard dressing as I loved the simplicity so much. Postpartum moms assured me that I would change my tune. They were right.

I guess maybe I just got sick of pulling up my pants every second of every day. I thought that elastic was supposed to help your pants stay UP. Alas, not so much. As I have mercifully lost some weight I bought new pants that fit for a week, then began the steady downward drop. I literally end up with the waistband under my bum after walking down the stairs to my front walk. It's comical when it's not sad.

For now, I have some embarrassing pants, and one pair of jeans that, for the moment, stay up. My size is a mystery to me. Seriously. I actually took a dress to the dry cleaners last week and prayed it would fit when I picked it up. As if somehow the dry cleaners had magical powers. But, what's crazier is, it DID! I have no idea if it would fit today, but it only needed to fit on Saturday. And, no elastic waist on my Vera Wang cocktail dress, to be clear.

Now I need to figure out what to wear today...

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Now that's funny

So, six months ago I posted a comment declaring, "I'm back!" I then proceeded to disappear for half a year. I could tell you I planned it as sarcasm but I would be lying.

I had a baby, actually, which is totally blogworthy. Only, I was so wrapped up in living it that I didn't take time to write about it. I often said, "Ooh I should blog about this." But I didn't. I will try to get back to those gems another day. We'll see how that goes.

In any case, today's inspiration is actually my friend, Jill. We snuck into a little email conversation through a group conversation and I asked how she was doing. She had to run, so couldn't write much, but sent me to her blog for a quick update in the meantime. Now, you go: http://www.fecklessessentials.com/

Wow! Jill's honesty, thoughtfulness, intellect, fortitude, passion and fabulousness came right through from these world wide webs. I felt like I was keeping up with Jill, but moreover, learning from her. I have no grand delusions that my blog can be that awesome, but it's nice to be inspired.

I can't promise that I will keep writing regularly. We just have the here and now.

For now, I am writing in between moments of trying to get my daughter to stay asleep for her nap. I have been putting the pacifier in her mouth every couple minutes, but I know she's tired and I hope she'll be out for a bit. It doesn't help that there is thunder and lightning rocking the sky outside. The rain is pouring and I can actually hear it all through the baby monitor as well as in real life. It's really quite lovely, except for the crying that's now wailing in the monitor. Ah, motherhood.

Maybe she can't sleep because she's got a mama-inflicted wound on her hand. I was trimming her pinkie nail last night and, voila, I trimmed a little pinkie finger, too. It was awful. She cried for a little while, but not long. But the bleeding, aaacckk, the bleeding, went on an on. There was blood on the jammies, blood on the sheets, blood on the toys. I called my own mom and confessed I was a bad mother. She, of course, confirmed that I am not. Every mom I have spoken to about this sympathized that the feeling is hideous. C'mon, baby blood is hideous. The only person who told me that everything was fine and not to worry about it was my one sister without kids yet (bless her). She was trying to be nice and helpful, I know. I told her I promised her I will just sympathize with her when it happens in her home down the road. Now I have to hold to that promise since I put it in writing. The Babes is doing better today (the baby bleeding has ceased), but it really breaks my heart to look at her pinkie. Aagh.

Now I have to tend to the totally awake girl, who never did nap. It's time for, something, so I need to focus on figuring out what!