I wish I liked yogurt as much as those women on the Yoplait commercials. Their facial expressions look like they're getting their feet rubbed by George Clooney while the "Queer Eye" guys are out giving their husbands a makeover.
I'd finally gotten over my fear of watching the news (because the economic news always convinced me that the end was near.) Now swine flu has me worried about the demise of the human species. So I'm back to not watching news. Thank God for Cheers reruns...of course now I want a beer. Can't win for losing.
My body has changed but my mind still thinks fat. Had a bratty kid at the ballpark the other day giving me the business. I thought "yeah, pick on the fat guy you little tapperhead." Then I realized he was giving me the business because he was a bratty little kid. I have had several instances of folks staring my way while working my new, second job. Invariably my mind goes back to the hurt and embarrassment. But then I realized that I'm standing in a prominent spot with a green polo shirt on that says "STAFF" and some very important-looking credentials hanging around my neck, giving me the appearance that I know what's going on - and they just want to know where section 108 is located. Or where they can buy a funnel cake - I can't think of anything nastier, greasier or sweeter than a funnel cake. Every single night at least one fan comes up to me and says "I just saw someone with a funnel cake. Where can I buy one???" And the other night I saw a kid put ketchup on one...oh dear God..I'd rather kiss Rosie O'Donnell on the mouth.
Speaking of the ballpark, do you know how good stadium food smells? Everyday when I get to work the air is all grilled onions, hot dogs and barbecue. I'm quite convinced - based on prior experience with many stadiums and the food therein - that's it not as a good as it smells. But still, if they could bottle that smell I'd buy my bride some for her to spritz on her wrists. Yummers.
Speaking AGAIN of the ballpark (yes, there's been a lot of baseball in my life so far this spring) I'm going to be at a ballgame as a fan - not an employee - this weekend. Braves-Astros Sunday afternoon. I'm going to plant my newly narrowed butt into a seat wearing the Chipper Jones jersey Rhonda bought for me (OFF A RACK somewhere) and enjoy being a normal human being. She's promised me for several years that as soon as I was able she was taking me to a baseball game. There's an old poem (the title of which escapes me) that has a line drawing a comparison between the author's frustration to a "...a wounded eagle, staring at the sky..." In MUCH less dramatic fashion that was me watching baseball on television. I envied those watching in person, their ability to fit into the seats and the stamina to do the considerable walking. Now that I've rid myself of about 240 pounds you might see me doing the "OH MY GOD I'M ON T.V. AND THE COOLEST PERSON ALIVE!!!!!!" wave while watching the Braves.
I can't really recommend the Special K cereal with little chocolate chips in it. For someone that's eaten bland and no desserts for over a year it leaves me feeling like I ate a brownie the size of a Volkswagen for breakfast (or a funnel cake with ketchup on it.)
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
"Strange days indeed...."
So less than a month (by just two days) after Mother died her sister has now died. In almost identical fashion. Battling other health issues she fell and broke her hip and her demise was jump-started. What in the world is happening here? Is the old thing about "happens in three's" really true? If so, what's next? Dear God, this is just other-wordly (if that's a word?)
Aunt Jean lived her life exactly as she wanted to, no spouse, no children and very few worries - other than the next good book she was going to read and what opera was coming on the radio that week. When I was a child and growing up in a house that resembled Grand Central Station most of the time I used to think that was an awfully lonely existence. But in my adult years I respect the fact that she carved out a life for herself that was exactly how she wanted it...it wasn't loneliness so much as solitude. Spending most of the time stepping and fetching for others to make a dime I respect someone who built their life on their own terms like that. I hope to do the same someday.
Finally, it was one of the last acts of Aunt Jean's life to make sure that I got my life back. She was one of a number of people who supported me in having my gastric-bypass surgery. I'm determined now, more than ever, to make sure this whole process is a success and that my family and friends who have supported me through all of this won't be disappointed. And I promise that at some point down the road this blog will go back to detailing successes and very positive things. For the last month and a half, though, these have been very strange days.
Aunt Jean lived her life exactly as she wanted to, no spouse, no children and very few worries - other than the next good book she was going to read and what opera was coming on the radio that week. When I was a child and growing up in a house that resembled Grand Central Station most of the time I used to think that was an awfully lonely existence. But in my adult years I respect the fact that she carved out a life for herself that was exactly how she wanted it...it wasn't loneliness so much as solitude. Spending most of the time stepping and fetching for others to make a dime I respect someone who built their life on their own terms like that. I hope to do the same someday.
Finally, it was one of the last acts of Aunt Jean's life to make sure that I got my life back. She was one of a number of people who supported me in having my gastric-bypass surgery. I'm determined now, more than ever, to make sure this whole process is a success and that my family and friends who have supported me through all of this won't be disappointed. And I promise that at some point down the road this blog will go back to detailing successes and very positive things. For the last month and a half, though, these have been very strange days.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
"....a rudderless child..."
Some reflections after the fact - she's been gone almost two weeks and a couple of things have come to light:
Losing a parent hurts..that's obvious. But when you've lost both your parents your own mortality rears its ugly head and slaps you in the face. Prior to all of this I was 45 years old. Now she's gone and it's "HOLY CRAP!!!!!! I'M 45 YEARS OLD!!!!!!!!!!"
The funeral was the easy part. After the perpetual motion that's involved in making arrangements and getting a preacher and cleaning out her room and her clothes etc..etc... the weeks after are sort of numbing...the 'uncalm after the storm" if you will The realization of what's happened hits you and it hurts like hell. And that's when you feel like (as the master, Mr. Buffett puts it) "a rudderless child." I love my wife. I love our home and our life together. But I feel, suddenly, like I've got no more roots in the ground. Someone who's been through this please tell me this is all normal.
Food is definitely my addiction. As much ribbing as I take because of my fondness for a cold, dry martini (and the ribbing is warranted...I AM quite fond of them) this episode has proven that food is my drug of choice. After so many months of not wanting to eat I'm suddenly craving things I haven't THOUGHT of eating in forever, wanting to use food to ease the pain a bit. I've had a couple of "I'm gonna eat whatever the hell I wanna eat" days. Fortunately I haven't given in. But feeling those temptations again has certainly proven that gin's not my drug of choice......food is. And I guess the hard times are when I'm going to fight it hard.
I'm enjoying the early days of this baseball season more than I have any season in years. No one on this planet loved the sport of baseball more than Mother. For the last couple of years I watched little of it because it made me too sad. Knowing that Alzheimer's robbed her of the ability to enjoy what she loved kept me from wanting to watch it. If she couldn't I shouldn't. But my bride has now convinced me that she wouldn't want me to not watch baseball. In fact I should use the opportunity to see a game as a chance to revisit all the good times I had watching baseball with her. My bride..pretty AND smart.
Gotta go...Brian McCann just hit another monster shot. Mother would say he's "seeing pumpkins right now."
Losing a parent hurts..that's obvious. But when you've lost both your parents your own mortality rears its ugly head and slaps you in the face. Prior to all of this I was 45 years old. Now she's gone and it's "HOLY CRAP!!!!!! I'M 45 YEARS OLD!!!!!!!!!!"
The funeral was the easy part. After the perpetual motion that's involved in making arrangements and getting a preacher and cleaning out her room and her clothes etc..etc... the weeks after are sort of numbing...the 'uncalm after the storm" if you will The realization of what's happened hits you and it hurts like hell. And that's when you feel like (as the master, Mr. Buffett puts it) "a rudderless child." I love my wife. I love our home and our life together. But I feel, suddenly, like I've got no more roots in the ground. Someone who's been through this please tell me this is all normal.
Food is definitely my addiction. As much ribbing as I take because of my fondness for a cold, dry martini (and the ribbing is warranted...I AM quite fond of them) this episode has proven that food is my drug of choice. After so many months of not wanting to eat I'm suddenly craving things I haven't THOUGHT of eating in forever, wanting to use food to ease the pain a bit. I've had a couple of "I'm gonna eat whatever the hell I wanna eat" days. Fortunately I haven't given in. But feeling those temptations again has certainly proven that gin's not my drug of choice......food is. And I guess the hard times are when I'm going to fight it hard.
I'm enjoying the early days of this baseball season more than I have any season in years. No one on this planet loved the sport of baseball more than Mother. For the last couple of years I watched little of it because it made me too sad. Knowing that Alzheimer's robbed her of the ability to enjoy what she loved kept me from wanting to watch it. If she couldn't I shouldn't. But my bride has now convinced me that she wouldn't want me to not watch baseball. In fact I should use the opportunity to see a game as a chance to revisit all the good times I had watching baseball with her. My bride..pretty AND smart.
Gotta go...Brian McCann just hit another monster shot. Mother would say he's "seeing pumpkins right now."
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