I’m innocent, I promise!

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I don’t have a whole lot to say right now, unbelievably so. Yesterday started out so promisingly, and yet Monday decided to stick its face in the toilet and try to flush its head every hour, on the hour. Today was markedly improved, thanks to a loss of power at the Employment Ranch.

I made it to my regular Tuesday night Weight Watchers meeting, which I haven’t attended in more than a month. This is the group I will miss most.

I’ve lost about 10 pounds since they last saw me (down three tonight!) and I wore a cute outfit tonight. Compliments o’plenty. The leader is always so happy to see me and to prod me to brag about myself to the group. Which he did. And I was able to pay him back by telling everyone the great advice he gave me before I went on my latest odysseys. Because, it worked! I had been plateaued, and now I’m buying “normal” clothing sizes again. So, squee!

Instead of being sad about leaving them behind when I hightail it south, I realized I couldn’t have come this far without them. I’m officially down more than 55 pounds at this point. Which meant I totally earned that homemade pizza I just scarfed down with entirely too much sliced Parmesan cheese from Trader Joe’s. (Which I will also leave behind. Along with Wegman’s. Now THERE’S something to cry about!)

I took a photo of myself today, as I am apt to do every few weeks or so, to help me chart my progress. I fear I will always have a Cabbage Patch Kid head, but I do see the changes. There was a line in “Benjamin Button” when Cate Blanchett’s character asked Brad Pitt what it’s like growing younger, and he says he doesn’t know because he can’t stop staring at his own eyes.

That’s where I’m at, right now. I see my eyes emerging from all the pudge. I see my cheekbones and jawline and other things that have been sort of indistinct during the past few years.

I was joking with an old friend today — we’d worked so closely together on a huge, honkin’ project over the past few years before being unceremoniously separated, and now we have to make it a point to get together because our paths were forcibly ripped so far apart. And I recalled when I was 27 and bought my first car. I didn’t know how to drive it, mind you. Just wanted to buy one because I finally could afford it. And suddenly, when I mastered it, I decided to leave town and move to D.C.

And now, I’ve melted 55 pounds off my frame and since I’m looking like a new person on the outside and am working toward catching up with the metamorphosis on the inside, I’m packing my bags and leaving town again.

What is it about me that I can’t just have a teeny little bit of change — I have to nuke and pave the whole hard drive and start over from scratch?

What I love right now, as word starts to spread of my imminent departure, is the happiness everyone is feeling for me. There’s the initial element of shock, like whoa, the goddess is abdicating her throne? And then there’s the joy. And then … the “OMG, WTF and WHO is going to take your place?”

I admit, I get a kick out of it every time. Because I never thought I was anything all that special. Just a monkey with a keyboard and an abnormally high b.s. tolerance. 🙂 But what thrills me is that, while I wasn’t looking, special things were happening … to me, for me and BECAUSE OF me.

After the initial “holy shit, what are we going to do” comment that has come from every person I’ve encountered, the million-dollar question is, what becomes of the roomie?

I mean, if I’m starting over, it’s time to start over over. And she seems compliant. Hell, she offered not to hold me back. I invited her to join me, because I really don’t know what will become of her otherwise. And I don’t need the guilt from THAT, if it isn’t a positive. But there’s something freeing about the prospect of leaving it all behind.

I often drive between Maryland and Virginia. You’ll have that when you dwell in D.C. And I have a theory about the state line. When I cross the American Legion Bridge as I’m riding the Beltway, I’m cognizant that it separates Maryland from Virginia.

And what I do is consciously leave my problems in Maryland. That’s where I encounter stress. And when I go to visit my friends in Virginia, or when I use that highway to find my way back to the District, I say hello to Virginia and declare what a good time I will have. And when I return to Maryland, I don’t necessarily make it a point to pick up my problems, but I always know in the back of my head that they are there, waiting for me.

It will be nice to drive away from Maryland one last time and know that all the b.s. is no longer visible in the rearview mirror, the faster I drive.

Of course, I leave a lot of people behind whom I love. The love comes with me, of course. If I hadn’t lost it somewhere along the way, that is. 🙂

One thing I’d love to leave behind are the shit landmines and barf cakes that Maddie (pictured) provides on a daily basis. I worry about her making this trip. She has been in poor health and has needed surgery for a while, but I can’t justify the expense right now when I’ve got a circus move to orchestrate.

So, I’m looking for pet-friendly hotels along the route. This will probably be her last big adventure. But I can officially say we’ve been everywhere and done everything together, so we’ve had a good run. I just wonder whether it’s MY last big adventure, too, or whether I’ll be packing up the car and the kitties and heading someplace else in another decade.

I admit, I am far from done with life adventures, but maybe this time, I’ll have a home I truly want to return to. It will be nice to have a true home base and not just another place I’m always trying to escape.

One Lonely Response to 55

  1. Mel :

    Okay, so I wasn’t the only one with the same question. I am glad it’s working out that way. 🙂