I Choose You, Jafar

I noticed that WordPress has a sexy new look. I’m particularly tantalized by the, “visual,” option on mobile. Because I can’t make it work. So my imagination is overextended, thinking of all the wondrous possibilities, the bells and whistles I’m missing out on. That’s what I get for living out in the sticks, where Wi-Fi isn’t available, and the other options aren’t worth the price.

I’m full of hope today. Full of nerves, yes, as usual, but I want to frame things in a positive way. I hope I get called for an interview. There’s one place I applied where I think I would excel. I want that job. I’m cleaning out all my junk in preparation for when I get the call. If I don’t get the job, I’ll be packed and ready for the next one. If I don’t clean, I won’t be ready for relocating anywhere, for any job. I’m sending out a signal to the universe that I’m preparing myself for the next step in my life.

I have a mammogram coming up. I hope with all my soul that I get good news. My mother got breast cancer at 52. Her sister got it at 63. My dad’s sister got it at 50. My first cousin on my dad’s side, at 44. I would like to have my breasts removed. And no, I don’t take it lightly. It seems to run in both sides of my family and I don’t want to leave my child motherless.

For trying to be hopeful, that sure was grim. Here, have this fascinating exchange as compensation:

Sister: …and be really likes her. He made her a hamburger.

Me: Oh yeah? Wow, that’s wild.

Me, one minute later: Okay, so like an ACTUAL hamburger? Or is that some kind of sex thing?

Only in my demented brain.


Train Whistle, Sweet Clementine

Don’t you hate it when you’re eating salad and you get to the end of the salad dressing but there’s too much actual salad left to eat dry, and you feel mildly guilty and childish for wanting more dressing and then you get mad and say, I’ll eat all the fucking dressing I want, while drowning your vegetables in too much ranch or Cesar or whatever, and then you regret it but eat it anyway? Yeah, me too.

So. Here we are. It’s good to see you, blog. I haven’t been avoiding you, I just got busy with life. I’m not going to bother with a narrative. Have this list instead.

What I Did in My Absence:

1. Ballooned up to 293 pounds.
2. Struggled with uncontrolled high blood pressure.
3. Lost all the weight plus more. I was at 279 today.
4. Celebrated getting off of all my blood pressure medication. Still keeping a watchful eye on it though.
5. Restored a friendship.
6. Began applying for jobs.
7. Lifted out of the last swirling cloud remnants of depression.

Things have not gone according to plan. It was never in my plans for something wonderful and amazing to happen. But something did. If you had tortured and interrogated me about what could possibly heal me, I would never have come up with this answer in time to save my life. Let me tell you a short story of serendipity.

I met the boy who would become my best friend when we were fourteen. Choir, French, cigarettes, laughing, rumors, food, music, eternal conversation. And then we moved in together. It got tense, as happens sometimes with friends who live together. And then he got cancer. I don’t want to think about that time. He recovered, we didn’t. He moved away for work. But slowly, year by year, we reached out a bit more. And then he told me he was in town, with his mother and daughter. They needed a place to stay. They stayed for four months. 120 days of reconnecting, recovering, and making each other laugh. At first I felt so tired by their company…I realized I was sick in my soul. Now I miss them terribly but I know I’m well. He (and they) pulled me out of my husk, made me feel human again. Did I say this was going to be a short story? I lied, sucka!

*Drops mic.*

*Picks up mic because it was an accident.*

*Dusts off mic and replaces it properly.*