Sitting in the lobby of the Comfort Suites, having had a deliciously deadening night of sleep. Man, I was tired. Now I’m all duded up, ready to enlighten the masses and pass on The Secret Handshake … nah. I’m ready to talk to to friends who love the same things I do, to help them if I can. You know, you get so much from this life if you just listen as well as yak. Or is that yack? And doesn’t that mean barf sometimes?
But I digress. Just like this blog/journal. I started it as a way to keep myself honest, to keep track of what I was doing and how I was feeling. And suddenly I’ve tapped into the wisdom of hundreds of women, and together we help each other. It amazes me.
In Syracuse I listened as well as talked, and picked up on all sorts of good things. Websites, books, tv shows, hot men, tricks for writers’ block, etc. It was at another NY conference where someone first said she did scrapbook pages for her characters. She used the smaller size, and then she’d put the pages in a copier and reduce them so she had a purse size notebook to carry around with her. Brilliant!
Mournfulness (yes, I know that seems an abrupt shift but stay with me) is a strange thing. It’s like a ribbon running through your life, sometimes floating through, sometimes out of sight or overhead. When Richie was driving me to the airport sudden, mournful thoughts came to me, sorrow for the losses, pain for the love that can’t fix, and I started weeping. I blinked a few times and let it pass, and spent the rest of the day upbeat and energetic, even with the long flight delay.
I guess it boils down to my basic tenet, taken from Auntie Mame (and my niece and nephew used to call me Auntie Mame). Life is a banquet. The next line is “most poor suckers are starving to death” but I worry that sounds harsh, because literally so many people are starving to death. Their only banquet is the air they breathe and the people they love.
But even stuck in horrendous war-torn misery, there’s still joy.
And in the richness of my life, while there’s deep sorrow, there’s joy as well.
There’s a grinning five year older racing around in circles and laughing, a toddler being watched by his grandpa. There’s a girl’s soccer team (or possibly lacrosse) eating the breakfast buffet like locusts, fueling up for today’s game, manatees on the tv, the sun is shining and it’s green and warm — what more can one ask? To top it all off I survived flying on Friday the 13th. Nothing but good times ahead.
Even if I sometimes weep for a moment or two on the way to the airport.
Actually one could ask for a nice cold Diet Coke. I succumbed to the lure of extra Diet Coke yesterday, but still managed a chicekn and apple salad for lunch and a salmon, brown rice and edamame healthy dinner. I did have a couple of soft pretzels but apart from that I’m a saint.
Ride’s here. Off I go!
I’ll report back.
That’s me against a wall of windows on a sunny day. My airplane had technical problems so instead of flying out at 10:45 am I fly out at 3-something. Fortunately there are comfortable seats and internet at the airport, but Richie already headed home and I’m stuck. Plus, I can smell greasy french fries and hamburgers from where I sit (the one restaurant in the airport) and it’s calling to me.
Which it better not be — my stomach did one of its things last night and I skipped dinner, and grease is not the answer. To quote the Wicked Witch of the East, these things must be done delicately.
But for now I’m comfy, I’ve got a computer, and I can write and even find something marginally healthy to eat, I expect. A zen-like calm surrounds me, because what good does fussing do? I miss a nice dinner tonight, but them’s the breaks.
I think I’ll download a couple more books, just because … and then maybe continue to listen to Davina Porter and DRUMS OF AUTUMN (that’s what I’m up to in the Outlander series). A quiet day, but I’m okay, stuck in the Burlington International Airport. It could be worse. I could be stuck in the Delta Terminal at JFK — one of the 9 layers of hell. So all is good.
Here’s AKA the Mona Lisa. Yeah, I’m wearing the same shirt — it was still clean and I have to take a shower later so I threw it on. Different glasses, though.
So I wallowed all yesterday. Son left (and he wasn’t that bad, but complaining about life but it upset me). It just set the day off on a downward trajectory that I couldn’t shake. I wept, I brooded, Richie finally took me out for retail therapy and lunch, but I just kept feeling down. I came home and read for a bit (sweet Richie made dinner) and went to bed, and that was enough. Time to pull myself together.
I probably should have tried to kick my butt yesterday, but I just felt mournful. Nothing could cheer me, not even buying new, smaller bras and buttered popcorn jelly bellies for Tim’s fiancee (who searched through Alex’s jelly beans for them — she adores them).
Here’s the plan for today. Gotta see if I can meet up with Crusie and Lani in campfire today to help me with brainstorming on one book and find out where they are on FTL (the thing we’re working on together).
Do a little cleaning in my room.
File income tax extensions.
Send off estimated payments. (Money came in yesterday, just in time!)
Pack for trip (I’ve flying to Richmond tomorrow, coming back on Sunday).
Visit the mother. Cancel the PT appointment (I’ll get to swim at the hotel this weekend).
The only thing that sounds like fun is meeting with Crusie and Lani, and every time we try to plan it something comes up with one of us (lately, me).
Ooops, that’s wallowing again.
Gonna eat a shitload of bran cereal (literally), go in and straighten my room a bit. Plan the nice time in a hotel room away from responsibility, and the fun of meeting with writers at the local chapter meeting. Figure out how to be more positive while I’m balancing financial stress.
Still sounds like I’m wallowing, doesn’t it? At least I’m trying.
I know. I’ll work. That’ll make me feel better. I’ll go in my office, find out what Jenny and Lani have brainstormed already, then looked at what I’ve got on my current thing (I’ve had to switch horses mid-stream).
And all will be well. All shall be well, all manner of things shall be well.
Nothing but good times ahead.
Hmmm. I’m having a wrestling match with the blues. Can sheer force of will banish it?
Had a fabulous time yesterday — just talking and laughing and having fun. I did pretty well with the food too. They had a continental breakfast but I went back to the hotel (across the parking lot) and grabbed a package of instant oatmeal, used the tea water and a splenda and scooped out the peaches from the fruit cocktail instead of telling myself a bran muffin would be okay.
Lunch was good too, with one small slip. They had lasagna (damn, it looked good!) and potato salad and macaroni salad, all of which I avoided. Instead I had about 6 of the medium sized meatballs, one of the breaded chicken patties (which didn’t seem greasy) and a bunch of salad and fruit.
For dinner I Failed. Not epic, but still. I had a salad with celestial croutons and divine blue cheese dressing (though I was sparing with it). Big plate of nachos arrived and I had some of those, though they weren’t dripping in cheese. An Asian salad which we all shared which was fabulous and healthy. And then salmon with rice and broccoli. Oh, and I resisted the brownies and cookies we had at break time. So mainly some nachos, but I didn’t have a large amount.
So all in all I was pretty damned good. I drank DC last night because I was wasted and couldn’t summon up the effort for unsweetened iced tea, but I’m back on the straight and narrow again (talking for 6 hours is exhausting!)
It’s going to be bright sunshine and 60 today for the trip back. Richie and I are going to take our time and stop for a leisurely lunch. This is just what we needed.
I’ll go over to Crusie’s post to list three things that make me happy, but that’s gonna be easy today.
I think CNYRWA is close to my local chapter. Them/they/it ? and the NJ chapter. Lots and lots of good friends, visited among them a lot.
I’m here in lovely Syracuse (actually Cicero) getting ready to do ma thang for 6 hours and looking forward to it. So many good friends here, plus my buddies Mort and Gruesome are showing up (neither of them as deadly as they sound, Mort being Maggie Shayne and Gruesome being Michele). I did well, and in fact, was surprised at how much Richie was noshing on the road. I usually eat twice as much as he does. Mind you, he was just nibbling on healthy stuff during the long drive, but I usually stuff myself. Instead I made do with grapes and oranges and (count ’em) 55 gold fish.
The one slight fall from grace was in the diet soda. The dear people had a six pack of Tab waiting on the dais when I arrived for the opening reception and Q & A. So I had one, and I’ll have two instead of one today.
My friend BK used to explain what when you keep kosher you simply do your best. That’s all God expects of you. (Though if you’re keeping kosher it’s probably g-d). That if you’re in a situation where manners or circumstance prevent you, you simply do your best. It was so sweet of them to bring the Tab that I wouldn’t be churlish enough not to accept it. And it’s not like it’s a trigger. But confession is good for the soul.
Richie’s still asleep (fabulous bed here at the Comfort Suites of Cicero) and he’ll read and play the banjo and swim and walk over to the massive outdoor supply store (Gander, I think it’s called. And EMS/REI type place) so he’ll be happy.
And I’ll work and have an excellent time.
It was so good to get out of Dodge for the weekend.
Now I just have to navigate the dangerous shoals of conference breakfast and lunch, but I should be fine.
Healthy R Us. And I intend to tell people about the Refab, in case anyone wants to join in. Most interesting thing I’ve learned so far — that when men are having sex they’re being visual. Even on top with their eyes closed they’re envisioning stuff. At least, that’s what one guy said and Richie concurred.
Just what I need — more ammunition for sex scenes. .
So life is good here at Lake Woebegone, where all the …? I forget the first part. I know the second — and all children are above average. Sounds like a nice world.
Are you guys having fun out there? Or are you getting into trouble?
I’m rushing around looking for last minute things like my tarot cards (writing exercise) and the new Tom Tom and my brilliant Kindle that Jenny decorated, but I’m popping in to announce the wonderful news that I weigh 237.5. Now most of you will see that and go, oh, no, she gained a pound and a half, and give me words of encouragement.
But the thing is, I’m an old hand at this game. And weight never simply plummets. Well, it does if you weigh once a week, I suppose, but the scale tends to be my friend. When it was giving me trouble last month it was trying to tell me something, namely that I was eating too much, even if it was healthy.
So I pop on every day or so, just to remind myself that I need to be honest.
And the brilliant thing is, I never trust low weights. I finally cracked the 230s (squeaking down to 239) and that was lovely, and then everything went to hell and I didn’t eat and had … er … gastrointestinal upset (we’ll have to decide how honest we want to be about such things) so I knew I’d be down a lot and I was 236. Which I didn’t trust. So getting on the scale and being at 237.5 feels like a real triumph, a real weight. It’s not going to go up from there — well, you never can tell given water weight etc. but it’s unlikely. It’s going to go down. And I can now celebrate being well and solidly out of the 240’s, not just dipping down or being freaked out.
So I’m off to the wilds of Syracuse with a happy heart. The child situation seems to have stabilized again, which reminds me — I’ll talk about anger when I have time. It’s a loaded issue for me, and for a lot of you too, and at the heart of my relationships with my mother and son.
Because this year is about losing weight, and decluttering my house, and getting healthy (oh, god, colonoscopy here we come), getting finances in order, creating fun things, trying new projects, and getting my relationships in healthy order.
All this refurbished fabulousness just waiting to burst forth.
Nothing but good times ahead.
I’m off to Syracuse, where on Saturday I’m gonna talk for six hours. Think I can do it? Damn straight!
And the nice thing is that Richie is driving me, so we get some time together, which will be lovely. Plus we’re renting a car for very cheap since mine is acting a little wonky. All in all we’re going to have a lovely time. Plus things are once more on the upswing (one parenting group said “don’t go on the roller coaster with them” but you know, sometimes they blindside you). But peace reigns, at least for now, and Richie and I get a break.
Nothing but good times ahead. At least, nothing but good times for the weekend, and it’s just what Richie and I need.
I’ll be checking in when I can. In the meantime, play nice.