I wore TIGHTS to Church with a SHORT DRESS/TUNIC that I would have NEVER worn with tights back when it used to fit. I don’t know what I weighed then I am very confused about how much I weighed in 2009 or 2011, both the years I went to Europe. I think I weighed close to this in 2012, but I am not sure. In any case, weight is relative. I am released. I am free to show my knees and legs and feel great about it. Part of me wishes that I had made this happen before I was fifty, but there it is. And I am ready and willing to lose a lot more. If I end up despairing over my chin, I will just get it fixed and hope that I do not then REALLY despair over my chin and the fact that I am vain enough to spend money on such a silly thing. If I get prunish, however, I will stop losing weight. This is an awful thing that happens sometimes to older women when they lose weight.
Mentioning spending money. I have decided I will put down my foot I am determined that Dale and I go somewhere every year for our anniversary, which is in May, which is a very good time to travel. We will pick a city, like Berlin, which is where we may start. I’ve thought about flying in and going from place to place on our own, or going place to place on a “tour,” but the thought of tours is dreadful and the thought of going from place to place is not very appealing. I liked spending two weeks in Rome more than moving to and fro all over Tuscany. I LOVE Tuscany, and if we did do it on our own, it wouldn’t be a forced March like it was with RICK JACKSON, but I still think a week in one place would be better. And with Dale’s new job it’s unlikely that he would be able to get leave for more than two weeks at once, (if that), so shooting for one week in one city is reasonable to me. And if we get to Berlin and want to scoot here and there, then we will. Or Vienna. Or Venice. Or Florence. Or Loudon. Or Paris (maybe). Or Prague. Or Barcelona. Or Copenhagen. Or Lisbon. Or New York. Or St. Petersburg (yes please please). Or Amsterdam. Or Dublin. Or Tokyo. Or Taiwan. Anywhere they have AMERICAN TOILETS. Unless I am able to strengthen enough to squat with ease. In which case, CONSTANTINOPLE. Or Cairo. New Delhi. The Gobi Desert (yes please). Mombasa. Morocco.
I Am reading Eula Biss’ On Immunity. Gorgeous. I seem to be a nonfiction only girl forever. But I am going to have to read some fiction I think, to figure out how to write this novel, or just write something else. Instead. So I can write. Something. I did write a poem Saturday morning. It made me happy. But no writing whirligig has yet settled upon my head.
We are having cat troubles. Since Alex left, the cat has gone mental. Peeing the living room rug. Yowling for Dale to open the attic door. Scratching at the attic door for hours. So we got the rugs cleaned. We started letting him sleep upstairs. Things were going great. But he peed on the rug again yesterday. I do like this cat, but really. This cat may have to go. Or take his chances outside. Which may be his problem. Some cats cannot be indoors. I am on fall break, which is why I am able to post this Monday morning. I am usually teaching my first class. I am hating my job, but of course I am going to stick it out. I started writing about it on Friday and came up with something very long that wanted to be an article, so I didn’t post it. And I started to feel better and was okay by Saturday. I will simply say that there are no standards for getting in the door of my community college. Which I get is the mission of a community college. But if that is the policy, then there should be remedial courses. But there are not. The remedial courses were eliminated last year. This is the first year without them. I am stunned. I am teaching in the Little School on the Prairie. I have despaired. But now I am okay and will regroup.
The weather is turning cool. The days are getting shorter and shorter. We are getting rid of cable TV. I am reading a book, and reading Matthew blah blah. And a young adult novel I loved as a child, A Gift of Magic. And a new young adult novel (for me) The Giver. I am reading The Giver so I can give one of my struggling students an alternate assignment, a book report. I must do the same for another student. Which means I must read Tim Tebow’s memoir no I am not kidding. The things one must do to be good.
Something like that.