Sunday, December 18, 2005

Fun, fun weekend.

I'm so, so tired. And fat, but more about that later....

Yesterday I defeated my Work Avoidance Tendency. It was hard. I needed to tackle the Throwing Out of Much Crappage, and all I really wanted to do was go to the yarn store. It was like I had a sudden physical craving for Koigu, and a divinely inspired need to make a lovely Koigu scarf, like RIGHT NOW!!! I resisted. I knew in my heart that this wasn't divinely inspired. It was Work Avoidance Inspired. I will do anything to get out of housework. If you want me to come sit with you while your tires are rotated when I should clean the bathrooms, honey, I'm there.

But I was good, I cleaned for hours, threw out much mystery shit (a small two-drawer unit in the garage contained power chargers for appliances I'm sure I threw away five years ago) and made a nice big pile of stuff to go out this weekend. I rewarded my diligence by ordering some Koigu from Patternworks. Craving satisfied, work done. It was good.

Last night was the neighborhood Christmas party, hosted by the Old Guys across the street. We adore these guys, they've got to be close to my parents' age but they are so young at heart, so busy, creative, alive, such great role models for retirement. They must have cooked for a week, the food was spectacular, and the house was so gorgeously decorated it was like a magazine layout. Martha Stewart would definitely call it a Good Thing.

I love my neighborhood, I love my neighbors - we had such a good time. We had planned to Put in an Appearance and leave, I didn't think Girl could take too many hours of people her mother's age and mostly up, but we ended up hanging out quite late, drinking wine and laughing and talking, and she was in the thick of it, socializing and getting to know the people who used to be Those Grownups.

The funniest story of all - one of the funniest and most loquacious guests was a guy that Girl knew from her days of cutting high school classes to hang out at the community pool with her friend - they used to grab a couple of beers and go lay out. (No, Mother didn't know this, but since Girl is close to graduating college with two degrees and three minors and zero pregnancies or arrests, I think no real harm was done by my parental negligence in her high school years.) She and her friend who cut classes with her used to see this neighbor at the pool, and the girls lived in fear that he would rat them out. She said she'd have to email her friend, who moved away years ago, and tell her that the Guy They Feared is totally cool and never would have ratted them out, he was way wilder than they ever were in school and told many funny stories last night. Good times.

So when I think I should sell the house? This is the other side, the side that keeps me here.

Today Girl and I got to go see The Rockettes, courtesy of my boss/our lawyer. Our lawyer gave her the tickets, she couldn't use them, we went. Lawyer was there with his friend, a good time was had by all, especially the little kids behind us. The place was loaded with kids, rug rats to the rafters, and they all behaved so wonderfully, it was a Freakin' Christmas Miracle. The kids behind us totally cracked us up - at the end of the show was a lovely Nativity, complete with live camels and a hilariously itchy sheep that industriously scratched itself during solemn tableau moments.

The (many and very young, like 3-5 years old) kids behind us had kept up a steady stream of amusement, shouting to Santa, squealing priceless comments, but this one was the real keeper: Upon seeing the Nativity, one of the little ones asked, "Is that the real God?" Perfectly understandable, since they were a bit confused by Singing, Dancing Santa and the number with the many dancing Santas, but I thought Girl was going to pee herself stifling her laughter. It was a fun show, definitely meant for kids, but very worth seeing. The Rockettes are just stupefyingly good, they must burn at least 10,000 calories a day doing three or so shows a day through the holiday season.

Something I am not doing. I've been crazy at work, running errands after work so no gym, the kitchen at the office is full of vendor tribute, lunches, parties, and the result is an even fatter ass in a pear tree. Actually my ass is sitting on the ground beneath the tree, because the branch broke. So is Girl's - we are both Appalled. I just keep gaining, I haven't gotten control yet and it's scaring me. Nothing fits. It's getting worse, not better.

We are in this together. The Eating Season is over for us, we are not waiting for New Year's Day to cut it out and ramp up the working out. I looked at myself in the mirror this weekend and didn't recognize myself - I look like my mother. Not that my mother isn't an adorable old lady, but she's almost 80, she's allowed to be round and saggy. I cannot afford to cut myself that slack yet. Vanity aside, with my family history I would be insane not to be vigilant.

Oh, and in a classic Blogger See, Blogger Buy moment, I finally broke down and purchased the Scunci Steamer As Seen on TV Crazy Aunt Purl. I've been looking at it for a while, and Target had it for sixty bucks and they threw in a small sweeper. NOT that I bought it for the many Finished Objects in need of blocking around here (I'll wait while you wipe your eyes and compose yourselves) but because I have what seems like acres, but can't be because my house is tiny, of tile flooring with grout that could use that Fresh Feeling. If I ever actually finish something that needs blocking I'll use it for that, too.

I'm so tired. Last night was late, the wine was flowing, the cats got me up before the crack of dawn, today was busy, and tomorrow I have to go to work. This whole "day of rest" thing just isn't happening for me.

2 comments:

  1. Anonymous10:35 AM

    Girl, I just have to tell you how much I love what and how you write. If I don't comment often, chalk it up to the crescendo-ing STUFF in my life right now. Love,love, love what you share.
    Merry Happy, Catherine! (and daughter..)

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  2. You are too kind. I ramble, I bitch about being fat and never manage to do anything about it, and the knitting content is slim. Of course, that means something about me is. ;-)

    ReplyDelete