Sing it to me, Sweet Baby James

Today I leave for Mexico.

Initially it was for work, and now it's for a bit of work, and mostly play. I am very excited. The wedding, a baptism, dancing and carousing with some old friends, and relaxation.

I so need this. This week has been a hard one for me, lots to do, lots of drama. People keep getting caught up in the drama of why something happens. It just does, now it's time to move on.

Last night was a cocktail party. I had fun. I don't drink cocktails anymore, but I do a lot of water and talk to a bunch of people, and I always have a good time.

Still dating. I made a pumpkin cake that went over well with the wookie. I like him for now. Maybe for later too. He makes me feel so good and we laugh well together.

And that's it. Maybe more to come when I am on the road, maybe not. Pictures galore, I promise, and I'll yap at you all in a week or two!

Besos!

Update after Boston

Boston was interesting. I saw a bunch of people I hadn't seen in over a year. I sent an email to my old director saying, "No one really notices in NYC because they see me everyday. They ask if I got ned glasses or cut bangs, etc-- when you see me say something just as inappropriate like "Did you do something with your hair?"".

From across the room, wineglass in hand----OMIGOD YOUR HAIR LOOKS AMAZING!

After tearful hugs and I miss yous--she went on, quietly, "You were always beautiful, now you are beautiful and confident. You've got "it"." The answer to that is yes, yes I do. I am learning to take compliments well. Although I laughed it off "This is what happens when you get laid on a regular basis."

I went on a date. And another, and another. I like this guy. Not forever. But for now. He's a really nice caring, generous, smart, funny and witty man. And he says "You are so hot, and because you have no idea you are, it makes you even hotter." Ohhh, Daddy.

But the real reason for this post is clothes. I have been shut out of department store shopping for too long. Anything above a stretchy 24 has not been on my agenda. This week, I bought a suit at Filene's Basement in a 20 jacket, and a 22 pant.

I SAID A 22 PANT.

The last time I remember a 22 pant is college, and those were shorts in my freshman year. Holy crap, this thing is working.

Then, I dragged Christine to Macy's and I modeled some evening dresses for the wedding of the century in Mexico City this weekend. I bought a gorgeous red and black formal. I LOOK ABSOLUTELY STUNNING IN IT! And again----

A SIZE 22.

Holy crap. Hello-- is this thing on?

Then we went to the movies where I cross my legs and didn't obsess over the arms being stationary-- because I fit into the seat with room.

Victories. Victories all over the place, like little drops of rain.

This Week in for Big Girl, Big City

Heading back to that Fall City on Tuesday for a conference.

The first conference since surgery. The one where people will either notice or not. Does my self esteem depend on it? You bet.

Well not really. Most of these folks I have met before and haven't seen in quite some time. So it will be good to see them. Of course I am still working on the details like dinner and room assignments, but I have all day today....

Wait. I have a date at 5pm. What? Yup, a date. I've already met him, and he's nice and a gentleman (or as much of a gentleman as I want), and we're going to see a concert and have dinner in a small live music venue which I love.

Online dating isn't totally terrible. I mean it can be, but I lucked out with this one. I told him upfront about surgery, and when we went to dinner, I said, order whatever, I'll take three bites. I did just that and it was awesome.

That being said, tomorrow will be hell day at work, and then off to Boston for the rest of the week.

Oh, I got a massage yesterday. I feel decadent. Truly decadent. Indulged. As a good girl should.

Not a lot of gym activity, however, lots of walking to do in Boston. I can't wait. I so need this.

Mama of the Melts-- I'm in your town and on an expense account. Come meet me for lunch Wedensday where we piss off the wait staff with our shared appetizer order.

The Random Things People Say

I am having a great day. Now that Mercury, my ruling planet of communication, is in retrograde, people are saying the weirdest things to me. It's like being on "Laugh-in" all day every day.

Every day for about a year I would get coffee at this little cart near work. I liked it because the guys would see me walk up from the subway, I would have my $1.50 ready, and no matter how long the line was, I got coffee first. They also have a sign that says "Smile if you are not wearing any underwear", which I totally don't get but I would smile anyways because that's what I do.

After surgery, no more coffee. In the last couple weeks, I might do one cup every two days-- so I go up to my guy.

"Large French Vanilla creamer with two sugars"

Oh, no- I just want a small with skim.

"Alright honey, that's a good change. You'll be so pretty with this change. Men will flock to you."

Yeah, thanks. Umm. How much?

"You should go to the gym. Bally's. They do a body good."

Dear readers, also picture this with a thick Pakistani accent. Aside from the fact HE'S TELLING ME TO GO TO THE GYM. A complete stranger is giving me advice because I have changed my coffee order. WTF?

The guy behind me laughed in line. I didn't care.

"Honey you look good. Here's your coffee."

Great thanks. Have a good day.

"Go to the gym."

I hate you. I hate everyone that tells me the most obvious thing ever. My god-- work it out. But instead of losing my cool, I just laugh. Look at it another way. This guy cares enough to say whatever is there for him to say. And not spit in my coffee. And be interested enough to know what my coffee order is, over the thousands of people he serves a day.

I'm special. I'm that fucking special.

The Gym

I like going to the gym.
I like clearing my head, getting on the treadmill and cranking up the music. Or the TV. And sweating was never so much fun.

I wanted to get up early enough to take belly dancing class today, however, I didn't. Last night was fun hanging and talking about boys, lack of boys, and boys in the future. Ahh, boys.

But this is a post about the gym. I stayed up way past my bedtime, and didn't make it to class this morning. I really want to try this class, it looks like fun. I used to dance, back in my childhood, and was always one of the first ones on a dance floor in my teens. Now, not so much. I'd like to be a better partner dancer, if for nothing else, the weddings coming up I'd like to not make a complete ass of myself. And maybe get a little exercise in there when I can.

The last couple days I have been feeling restless and anxious. I'm not really sure why. But let me tell you, I am excited to hit the gym today. Because going makes the scale go down. I am in a heavy losing mode these last three weeks and I'd like to be down 72 pounds by the time I get to Mexico. I've got about 10 to go, and I think it's totally do-able. Just something to shoot for.

I can't believe how well my broken by-pass surgery is going. I can't believe that I feel different than how I've always felt. I'm turning into that person without all that armor-- not weak, but fortified by her internal strength rather than her width. It's not a surgery for everyone, and it's not a quick fix, however, for me, it is the most positive solution to a lifelong issue.

Train Wreck

Big Girl, how do you meet men in your Big City?

Well, online of course!

I hate online dating. I like social networking because it gives me a clearer idea of who people are at work, I have one place where I can keep up with college friends and family members around the world. Or two, or three.

I online met a man. Funny funny funny. The feminist in me wanted to disagree with most of his profile, but as you know readers, this Big Girl likes a challenge. She doesn't like people, especially men, getting away with anything. Especially snarky comments about womanly things. He engaged me, I said no. Said I wasn't interested in talking to or being friends with the Train Wreck.

Fast forward three days later. I've spent far too much time emailing and chatting with this Mr. Train Wreck. And being on the roller coaster of "it's something new, it's good" and "he's full of shit and you are wasting your time". He is full of shit, and we don't want the same thing. My intuition tells me as much, well, and that he said he wasn't looking for a relationship "and if something developed..." which to me means "hook up, and then maybe we'll see". I don't want to play that game-- of maybe someday. That's my whole friggen life.

I know I am wasting my time. I want a relationship that inspires me. A partner in crime. A man that will push all the right buttons and some of the wrong ones, and together we are better than our fabulous single selves.

So here's what there is to say. I am worth the type of relationship I want. I can settle for nothing less. It's not a match to go to a school for engineering when you want to be an artist. It's not a match to physically take care of myself, but emotionally be starved.

No more, Mr. Train Wreck. No more. And I'm not sorry. I've wasted hours on you. You lucky bastard. Most people don't get moments of my time.

Ahh, I feel better. In other news, I jogged for 12 mins yesterday at the gym. Had to do some head clearing. And then on the bike. And I look at myself this morning and have a little bit of a collarbone. And feel good. Satisfied. And Strong.

Boston

Mom and Pop and I went to Boston on Sunday. Unfortunately, I had to make a pit stop to a Micky D's bathroom for ... well, a pit stop... and then had to wait for the medicine to take effect. This is no longer dumping. This is something needs to leave my body.

Anyhow, I'll call the surgeon's office today.

Boston was great. We walked Newberry street, Boston Commons, sat on a couple park benches, ordered free brunch (my job is pretty cool) and then mom and pop got to see how I get to stay in hotels. Nice hotels. Where they call me Ms. Lastname.

Mom was duly impressed. As she should be. She's not all fire and brimstone, this weekend was a great one. She was trying to take care of me. Which was nice.

After they left I took a nap, and then headed over to my favorite bookstore (Trident Booksellers) and got a couple magazines and a book. I sat down in the cafe to a coco-banana protein shake and enjoyed. It was so nice to turn all that off. The stuff in my head, I mean.

Yesterday after spending time in the hotel and at the restaurant where we will do a dinner, I caught a train back to NYC. I am telling you, there is nothing like listening to Simon and Garfunkel's greatest hits while on a train. 1) Sleepytime and 2) if no sleepytime, then thinking time. I thoroughly enjoyed my entire time on the train. I ate two bites of a hot dog, no bun, and was done.

I even took the subway home, and walked to my apartment, rolly bag in tow.

In all, this weekend I have put in about 2 hours of exercise. Walking. And then on Saturday, I jogged on the treadmill. I am not unrecognizable, but this is similar to when I quit smoking. All of a sudden I had new habits and I didn't need the old ones. It feels like that.

I jogged. Only for about a minute at a time, but jogged. It felt good.