The past two days were all about Finding My Way. I've never navigated downtown Miami before, it's one of those places that some people flat refuse to drive because it's such a nightmare if you don't know where you're going, and I didn't, so I wasn't looking foward to it. The best way to describe Miami is to use Dave Barry's line - everybody there is driving according to the rules of his or her country of origin. These are often in direct conflict with each other. Boss called me when he got to our destination, after getting lost himself, to report that Mapquest's directions were screwed up and would put me across the river - which is definitely "the wrong side of the tracks". I was approaching downtown, and said don't worry Boss, I was using the directions from the firm's website, (I'd seen Mapquest's and didn't understand them, the website directions were different) I should be alright. So I followed those directions and they were also screwed up, (turn left at light at the end of the ramp - guess what, it's a one-way street and you can't turn left) and they also put me across the river on the wrong side of the tracks. If I wanted to dump a dead body this would be the right place, but that wasn't on the agenda. But without a map and without calling for directions, I managed to navigate back across the river and made my way through the maze of one way streets packed with drivers who don't believe in silly things like "lanes" or "red lights," with humans jaywalking like suicidal squirrels at random intervals, and found the law firm's building, which was of course not named what it says on the letterhead but was tall enough to have more than 40 floors so I guessed it from its size and general location in the concrete mountain range of skyscrapers, and even found the parking garage (which also was almost completely unlabeled - I don't think this building wants visitors). I was only about 10 minutes late, and that was because the drawbridges were up for a very long time. This was my first Go Me Moment of the day.

The view from way up high was spectacular, it was another cloudless sunny winter day and I could sit and stare at Biscayne Bay all day long, but we actually were there to work, and work we did, between stretching breaks to look out the window. You just have to look out the window.

We took my car to drive to South Beach for dinner, and at that time of day the drive is so beautiful, crossing the bridge with the ocean and all the beautiful brightly painted buildings in the setting sun, I was just soaking it in, loving every minute of it until I suddenly realized, in shock and horror, that taking my car to South Beach meant I would have to Parallel Park. In South Beach madness in evening traffic, heavy traffic both vehicular and pedestrian, I would have to Parallel Park. Oh Shit. Oh shitshitshit. I haven't parallel parked in at least twenty years and maybe three times total in my lifetime, since getting my driver's license as a teenager!! There is no on street parking in Catherine's World. It just doesn't come up in Orlando, where there are plenty of parking garages. So I'm looking for a parking place and whining to Boss that I haven't parallel parked in decades and what the hell was he thinking making me drive? He said "Oh, you can do it."

I finally found a parking place, took a deep breath, and....did it. Parked perfectly. On the first try. It was one of those small sublime victories, I was so jazzed Boss was laughing at me. He has too much faith in me most of the time, but seriously, this was a freaking miracle. I still don't believe I pulled it off.

South Beach is sort of like the circus - I like it once in a while, but I wouldn't want to go every day. Boss loves it, so we always end up eating there if we're down that way. It's definitely unique and colorful and worth a visit, I love eating at the outdoor restaurants and people watching, but I don't love it like he does. It's always crowded with herds of pretty party people and dog walkers and roller bladers, plus the tourists in their ugly shorts and stupid fanny packs taking pictures of the aforementioned like they're visiting the zoo (which, in a sense, they are). We were there at dinnertime on a work night so it was mostly tourists in fannypacks and twentysomethings who'd just gotten off work, the Paris Hilton-type crowd was probably still eating breakfast - they wouldn't be out for hours. It had to be an early and virtually alcohol free dinner, since we had to drive to our next desination that night - and an early and alcohol free dinner is definitely not the way to do South Beach. Still, on a night like that, clear and just cool enough that they had to put out the outdoor heaters, it was the perfect place to have dinner, and a good end to a good day.

You would think that I would have slept well that night, after all that driving and working, but my insomnia kicked in - I couldn't fall asleep until almost midnight, then I was up again at 4:30. So I worked on Girlchild's Bardot sweater, and made significant progress on the back. It's the number one project again - I do love that KFI Cashmerino, it's soo soft and lovely, working on the sweater soothed me and made me feel rested and invigorated. Pictures later - right now it's very overcast and dark as night out there, and I know from experience that poor lighting and the flash does not do this yarn justice at all.

Lots of Turnpike thinking - mostly about what I want to do with my life, and how to get there. I don't have any clear answers yet, but I know that the time to work on it has arrived. I know I'm going on and on about my weight loss and fitness quest, but it's all tied to the huge global issue of rebuilding my life. I need to get out of the house more, meet people, and generally "get a life" again, and it's not easy to figure out how to do it in your 40s after being married all of your adult life. Life as a single person is a constant adjustment, and at nearly 6 months since my husband's death, it's time to get my act together and get out there again. And so we're back to shallow things like weight and wardrobe and the whole attractiveness package - it shouldn't matter as much as it does, but the cold reality is, it does matter. It affects how people treat me, it affects how I feel and therefore how I dress, act, and project myself to others. I do not feel confident and attractive when I am not at my best. So I feel very, very motivated to remake myself physically while I'm working on figuring out this new life. I've said it so many times, started and failed so many times, but this time really is different - it's not the usual New Year's Resolution crap. This is a life resolution, I am so very, very ready to change my life.

And on that note, Murphy and I just ran the last block of our morning walk, and I wasn't even slightly out of breath when I got to the door. I don't think I have run a block without feeling winded in 20 years! I think today it's time to add Pilates to the daily routine. The diet has become easy - I stuck to it just fine while out of town. It helps that Boss has gotten on the SBD bandwagon, he is convinced it works and has dropped like ten pounds already, damn that male metabolism, so he automatically suggests low carb friendly places to eat on the road. I have naturally gravitated to a plan more like phase 2 of South Beach than the stricter phase 1, and if I want a white mocha latte from Starbucks at the Turnpike rest stop, I have it - no guilt, no point-counting. I'm down about 4.5 pounds since the first of the year. I'm on my way, and I'm heading in the right direction.