Balance

Saturday, May 15, 2010, was a day of universal balance. Three things happened that symbolized the true essence of existence in my little version of the world.

1) My friends' twin babies were born. The start of new life, and more importantly new life that I will be able to spoil and cuddle, began on Saturday. The twins were long expected and eagerly anticipated (not least of all by their mom who lugged them around all those months), and I can't wait to be part of their lives.

2) I watched several students I know graduate from college, finally ending their childhood in a real and significant way. While technically they have been adults for several years, it's that college graduation and entrance into the career world that really makes the transformation complete. In the coming weeks, months, and years, they will be building their adult life, along with all the intensity and randomness of the middle years.

3) My great uncle, Leonard, passed away. Mere hours before the emergence of the sweet new babies who entered the world, the world lost a great soul. Uncle Leonard was sweet, kind, and loving. He and his wife have been like a third set of grandparents for me my whole life because we celebrated Leonard's and my dad's mutual birthday every year. Leonard gave great bear hugs and loved to tease. His absence from the world is the world's loss.

All three of these things happening in one day makes me keenly aware of how time waits for no one, that we're not in control of the meandering life cycle, and that each phase of life has its small place of importance in the ongoing line of history. But even its importance is overshadowed by the relative brevity. We are who we are for as long as we are, and when we transition from life on earth to whatever comes next, we know there is someone (or, in this case 'someones'!) who will replace us and carry time forward.

In my life, right now, these new babies are delightful symbols of life moved on after the loss of another life I loved. They mean to me that I have to keep moving through the cycle in the same way that my uncle Leonard did before me and that they will after me. Leonard would love this connection of life as much as I do. Because he understood that's the balance of things.

Oops.

So I haven't been posting again. I just get a little distracted. But I'll go ahead and post today about some things that really irk me about friendship and relationships.

1) I'm more often single than not (alas), and I get really tired of being the backup friend. I'm good enough to go out with, travel with, talk to...until someone with a penis comes along. Then I'm relegated to backup status. I only get asked to entertain you when the penis-bearer is unavailable. I'm supposed to accept this as normal, reasonable behavior. To understand. To be encouraging and supportive. And then, when you break up, I'm supposed to come running back to you to help you through it and then be grateful that you suddenly have time to hang out with me again. I'm not. I think you're a jerk when you do that. And I feel very small and pathetic, like I'm a homeless dog who should be grateful to eat whatever scraps are thrown its way.

2) Don't tell me (or anyone) to "just be patient" or "it will happen." It might not, and patience won't help if it's not going to happen. It's patronizing and insulting. It sounds like pity, and I don't need any additional pity. I have enough self-pity without you adding to the mix. Thank you.

3) Don't tell me how you so often wish you were single again so you could just go out and have fun whenever you want. Bullshit. Single people aren't going out and having fun all the time, living some sort of crazy fabulous life. We're home a lot, and when we're out, we're often the third wheel. You no more wish you were single again than I wish I were a meth addict. Don't patronize me. (Are you sensing the theme?)

4) Stupid restaurants that offer buy-one-get-one-free coupons or deals frustrate me. I don't need two meals, thank you. I would very much like to have a 50% off meal, though, which is the economic equivalent. So offer me that instead of telling me I can't get a deal because I'm unattached. *I'm looking at you, Subway.*

How's that for a happy Valentine's day? Remember kids, Valentine's Day is VD.

Goals for 2010

1. Stop being negative about so many things. Being negative is a negative thing, after all.

2. Enjoy the crap out of my week in London in March.

3. Keep losing weight till I hit my ideal weight. Then keep at my ideal weight. Also, avoid becoming one of those hyper-paranoid eaters where I watch every ounce of weight and every calorie every day. Just be cool with how I look without being obsessive.

4. Relatedly, find some sort of physical activity that is both good exercise and enjoyable. And that doesn't require good weather, considering where I live.

5. Be more opinionated and independent and less submissive. (Haha. Just kidding.)

6. Be more proactive in my social life. I need to do a better job of seeking out friends and maintaining the friendships I have. I have been pretty bad at that in La Crosse, and it has to stop if I'm going to make a life for myself here.

7. Learn to love house cleaning. Or at least to do it, even if I don't love it.

8. Blog more. (See #5.)

9. Be okay with ending lists on a non-even number. (Goal accomplished!)

Bodily Function and Love

So, it occurs to me that one of the markers of true friendship or familial closeness is the fart. Now, of course, I have a mix of family and friends who will alternately be amused or disgusted by this statement, but it's true. Even the disgusted among my acquaintance have to acknowledge that flatulence is an expression of love. Here's why (with examples).

1) I have heard multiple people tell me the story of their relationships and how a) embarrassed or b) amused they were when they (or their partner) farted for the first time in front of the other. But they always end the story by saying how it made them feel closer because they could relax (in more ways than one).
2) My friend and I were on a little road trip last summer, and the topic of indigestion came up. I told some little poop story (as I am wont to do), and she busted a gut. She was actually a little surprised that I talked so openly and joked about that stuff (maybe she was under the mistaken impression that I am sophisticated), but ever since then we have sent little jokes and stories on a similar theme. It's actually made us (already close friends) a little closer. It's just one of those markers of intimacy, in a weird and hilarious way.

3) Another girl came to my grad school department the year after I did. She seemed nice, but we really didn't visit much. One night we had dinner and found out we had quite a bit in common, so we started hanging out more. The day I knew we were going to be good friends was the day she told me about her fart machine and how she and her friends used it to play jokes on people during their cruise. When I reacted with great amusement, she was a little surprised and glad. She told me she wasn't sure if I would think it was funny. Once I declared it so, she and I became great friends and have shared lots of laughs about bodily functions. It was farts that brought us together. Awww.

4) My family has had fart contests and laughed at poop and fart jokes since I can remember. This includes my immediate family as well as my dad's extended family. And it gives us a kind of camaraderie and sense of fun whenever we're together. You can bet at least once when we all gather someone will make a joke that splits our sides. I can't imagine being in a family that couldn't laugh about that kind of thing.

So there you have it. Eleven years of college, and a Ph.D. in interpersonal communication, and my contribution to the study of relationships=the fart as a marker of intimacy. I'm living proof of the power of poofs (though not in the British sense...look it up).

The Revolution Inside

I've been on my Weight Watchers "diet" now for about seven weeks, and have lost 15 pounds. This, obviously, pleases me greatly.

But the fact is, it is hard for someone like me to admit I needed help from an outside source, and even more difficult that it comes in the form of what is basically a support group. I am smart enough to do this on my own, and I've read all the stuff that tells me what one should eat and not eat...but for some reason I really needed the structure of a program and a weekly routine of weighing in to motivate me to do what I knew I needed to do.

On the positive side, though, the program has really highlighted for me how to balance my food intake. I had heard all the gunk about how if you're going to a party eat light earlier in the day. Blah blah. I never listened. But now I find myself planning a little bit better so that I can enjoy party food without ruining anything. The past three weeks have had regular social events where unhealthy food was served, and I found myself automatically thinking through how to account for that in my day. Eat a salad with vinaigrette for lunch, eat an apple, eat a smaller sandwich...whatever it takes so that I can enjoy some junk later in the day. Similarly, at Thanksgiving, I tried to fill a good portion of my plate with vegetables so that I would be less tempted to overload on cheesy potatoes and corn. It worked, and I left feeling comfortable and happy. I ate my cheesy potatoes and corn, but I didn't overdo it.

And the really miraculous thing about this is that I now think this is normal and reasonable, if I think of it at all. I am not feeling left out of anything, nor am I feeling intense longings to gorge on junk. Maybe I'm still in the honeymoon phase or something, but I really, for the first time in my life, feel like I have a grasp of what food is supposed to be doing in my life rather than seeing it as a pastime. Food is not just about pleasure...it's about pleasure AND health. I still enjoy my sweets and eat pizza from time to time--I ate two crab rangoon on Monday night, guilt free--but just in a better proportion to my other, healthier foods. This is revolutionary. Simple, but revolutionary.

Temptations

I wish someone would explain to me why I decided to buy four boxes of Girl Scout cookies awhile back. Because now I have four boxes of Girl Scout cookies sitting in my house, and each friggin' cookie is two points on my Weight Watchers diet! That's ridiculous.

I just ate one, and I took the tiniest bites ever to savor it. This worked for the first cookie, but I am not sure this will be enough in future. Soon the overpowering deliciousness will take over and then...boo.

Since the end of October, I'm down 13 pounds, which is great (I even lost over Thanksgiving week! Heck yeah!). I have to keep up the hard work and not surrender to the evils of cookies.

Year Two

I've been absent on my own blog. It's mostly that year two of professorship has been more overwhelming than year one, so there's been yet another learning curve. Someday I will learn that the learning curve is like a rainbow that has no definite beginning or end, but just an ongoing arc. The harder you look for the end, the further you get from it and the more frustrated you become. So I guess that means this year is about another lesson in chilling out and letting go of control.

But the problem, of course, is that control is my obsession. So that's going well.

Anyway, the purpose of this entry is to appease my mom and aunt, both of whom have asked why I haven't posted in a long time. Now I've posted again, and I will try to do what I can to become a regular writer again. I miss ranting. :)