Good books, good friends … what more does a gal need?

Innovation … or inconvenience

My coffee pot does, in fact, work, if I put it on the living room floor and brew it there. 🙂 Now if I could have just moved the refrigerator, I wouldn’t have lost more than $80 in groceries because there is no power going to the fridge. Damn. It really pained me to eat that whole bag of Reese’s cups that I’d stored in the freezer. 😉

Ya gotta have friends

As for the hot water situation, Dave kindly offered for me to take a shower there. I am not going to pass up that offer, because without hot water here, my leg hair is leaning toward the “braidable” adjective again — ick!

Saturday night alone with a good book

I finished reading “Good in Bed” last night. I didn’t love the book, but I did feel moved enough to contact the author, Jennifer Weiner, to thank her for writing it. Not only did she write about a 28-year-old “woman of size,” but she also showed her having a great life filled with love and dates and adventures — which endeared me. But instead of sending her a letter waxing poetic about “I know how it feels,” I chose instead to compliment her on the storyline about delivering a premature baby and all the complications that went along with it — from the sleep apnea monitors, from the months spent commuting to the hospital, from the worries about neurological and cardio-pulmonary disorders, to the general madness that such pressures bring. That is everything that Shan is going through right now, and I loved reading about such real situations in a fictional novel. It even managed to give me a little bit more insight into what’s going on with Shan.

Ya gotta have friends, part deux

And, I guess I should admit it — we’ve been in irregular contact. She brought Alex to the recovery room after my appendix went away. We’ve talked on the phone a couple of times. And she’s always managed to try to talk about me, when I’m the one who’s dying to know what’s going on with her.

Long story short, the baby will be attached to her apnea monitor until after the December holidays. Because the electrodes have been ripping and tearing her fragile skin (read: Alex is ripping the cords off), the doctors came up with a new solution to put the cords under her clothes. She’s up to 7 pounds now and with the new equipment, she will finally fit into a baby’s size 0-3. And Aunt Dawn has a boatload of such munchkin-sized clothes for her new little niece, so Alex will be set for a long time. Now, just to get Shan to pick up her phone so I can get over there to visit! 🙂

Now for the rest of my book review

At any rate, back to the book. It wasn’t knock-you-over-dead wonderful, but it speaks to you if you have ever had body-image issues … and who among us hasn’t?. And like I told the author, “All in all, you got it right — despite being rather uncomfortable in our own skin more often than we’d care to admit, we do learn as we get older that we are pretty damn special, and the right people can and do realize it.”

In which I self-analyze after reading the book

I’ve always felt this weird cross between shame and appreciation of my own skin. I turned that shame, initially, into promiscuity. I didn’t feel like looking at myself, but I made sure that lots of people saw me. (And yes, despite myself, I can have sex with the lights on, although I’d prefer that to be DIM lighting. Heh.) But after my ridiculous bout with life and death and bad hospital service, I realize that my body is, well, the only one I’ve got. And It’s been pretty damned good to me for the past three decades, no matter how much I’ve used and abused it. And it ain’t gettin’ any younger. So it’s got its scratches and scars and miles upon miles of havoc and pleasure wreaked upon it. So what? Each bump and bruise tells a story — my story. And it ain’t over yet. In fact, I hope I have lots of healthy years ahead, because there are more stories to be told and more pleasures to incur. For all its faults, I do love my body. I just need to find someone else to worship it as much as I do!!! 🙂

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