the pattyo

You have to see it to believe it.

I bought a couple of pair of pants this week. I decided to finally face fact and buy a size larger. Ouch! But sometimes a girl has to bite the bullet and admit she’s not as young or thin as she used to be, yes?

So I got the pants, tried ‘em on and thought, “Well isn’t this nice? They feel so comfy!”

And now?

They are too large!

Sigh. Yes, I removed all the tags. Yes, I’ve worn each pair for a day. I guess it’s just like me and shoes; I don’t know if they really work until I’ve had them on for a while and scuffed them up.

An well. The good news is I’m not as large as I thought.

Hah! Truth be told, I think the pants run large. But I’m going to think in that more positive way. Just because I can.

Aging is such a weird thing. I saw a book title that is SO true: I Feel Bad About My Neck: And Other Thoughts About Being a Woman. I want that book!

My neck is changing. My entire body is changing. Men get older, their gray hair just looks charming. Women? We look … I dunno … dowdy, I guess. Men wear the same old same old no matter what age they are. Women? If we wear what we wore when we were younger we look as if we are pathetically hanging on to our youth. If we wear other things we look …

Oh never mind. This is getting to be a bad post. It was supposed to be about the fact that I’m not as heavy as I thought. Go figure.

Figure. I would have to bring that word up, eh? ;-)

Things change. People change. Big time. In so many ways. Nothing stays the same. Aging. Entropy. Even relationships. It all changes. You’d think I’d understand that by now. Or I guess I understand it. It’s just not easy to accept it.

sorrow is like smoke
sneaking under doors
and through small cracks
in walls and windows
seeping into everything

even washing doesn’t
destroy it completely

fear is sorrow’s soggy friend
together they embrace
keeping the wearer
smokey and wet
in the sunniest of climates

So the glasses are ordered. They weren’t cheap, but what is? At least they should be here in a few weeks, and now I just hope they look okay. (The guy who assisted me said they did … but should I trust him? I don’t know!)

I also finished up my Hep A & B shots and the nurse who gave them was wonderful … nearly painless until I got in the car and my right arm suddenly got awfully sore. It’s fine now.

So yay for getting all of that done.

Now I should probably get back to taxes. But I’m not going to. Yet.

It’s not very fun to choose new glasses when you hate to look at yourself in the mirror. 8-(

I think I’ll just take the ones I have now, find something close to the same shape, and say, “These’ll do, thanks.” No way do I want to have the person helping me take my picture with their handy dandy computer camera and make me look at my face. NO. WAY.

But new glasses are necessary. The ones I have now are transition lenses and they really don’t work for pictures. I think that, come June 22, I’ll have to be in photos whether I like it or not. So I really must get new glasses.

Or … I guess the other option is to be pretty much visionless during the wedding and reception. Hmmm. There’s a thought. But I do think I’ll want to see the happy couple! So never mind.

So off I go, early tomorrow morning, for my checkup and my glasses shopping expedition. I think I’ll dress up a bit; somehow dressing up makes me at least carry myself better, you know? Funny how that works. :-)

Despite what my friend said about my fat, I think I’m losing weight!

Finally.

Either that, or I’m wearing larger clothes.

Hmmm. I guess that could be the case, eh? But shhh! Don’t tell anyone. ;-)

I’ve been pondering recently. People talk about unconditional love. I don’t think I believe in that. Someone might say, “Well, what about a parent’s love for a child?” And … well … the thing is, there’s a condition there, isn’t there? It’s the parent/child thing. Isn’t that a condition? Or am I totally off my rocker?

Oh. Don’t answer that.

I have yet to finish our taxes. Sigh. Grumble. Scream! I don’t want to finish our taxes. Maybe I won’t. They can simply come here and take me away. (Don’t worry, Dan, I’ll explain that it’s all me and not you at all! ;-)

Hmmm. Now I have They’re coming (ONE m!) to take me away in my head.

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

Off to UCSC with me.

I can’t handle the truth!

But I will. Of course I have no choice!

So many things to be pondering right now. Too many, really. But that’s life, yes? I just wish I could figure this life thing out before it’s over.

I won’t write about much of it here, but there’s this one …

Yesterday a friend said, “Patty, I’m going to help you with your fat problem.” She continued from there. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. Talk about hurting. I was already in a not-so-great place, and then that.

And now I read this. Listen too.

Thanks vilaine fille.

Scroll down to the lower part of this blog entry. It made me cry. More. Maybe it’ll hit you too.

Thanks, T.

I don’t understand the furor over Little Saigon. If people in the area want to call it that, I’m fine with it. I don’t need to vote it in our out (and I think a vote might stir up a ton of racial tension, but maybe I’m wrong), but certain no one needs to starve to death in order to get the name either.

Some things are just too small to die over.