The Women’s March on Washington 2017

I stepped out of my shell and did something last weekend.  I went with some old chums from my library days (along with another 1.2 million people) down to D.C. to hopefully kick off a movement.  I was going to post my entries separately but I figured I would just do them in chronological order […]

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When Are You Due?

“When are you due?”  “Are you pregnant?” “Take care of that little baby of ours!” (Ours??) “How far along are you?” **rubs my belly**  Or the worst of all – “Please tell me you’re getting fat and not pregnant!”

If I had a dollar for every time I’ve been asked that by a patient since I started working out of the home, I would be at least halfway to my new tattoo (it’ll be of Audrey Hepburn, by the way, by the one and only Sarah Miller!  But I digress…).

Not a week, NOT ONE, has gone by, without someone asking about my “pregnancy”.  I had 7 people in 4 days straight say it in one way or another.  Do you know what it’s like to say LOUDLY, in a room full of patients, that you’re not pregnant; that you’re just fat???  Do you?????  Do you know how hard it is to laugh it off too?????   Yes, I imagine that there might be a reader or two out there with similar situations, but not the whole lot of you.

I had two kids.  I got lazy.  I ate a lot.  But, on the brighter side, I’ve lost 15 lbs in the last couple of months.  I’m not down to my goal weight yet, but I’ll get there.  You can bet your ass, I will.  Will my stomach ever get back to “normal”?  You can bet your ass, it won’t.  But I’m still going to lose it anyway, because I’m tired of these….these….motherfuckers (YES.  I fucking said it.) saying this shit to me all the time.

There are clothes that I bought that I love to wear.  They happen to accentuate my misshapen body.  It’s not going to stop me from wearing them.  And if you’re sitting there saying “Wear looser clothes, then.” – fine.  You go out and buy them for me.  These are the clothes that I like.  And one day, I’ll fit even better into them.

No matter what they say, I still get compliments, winks and different types of proposals too.  Granted, I’m married – no harm, no foul though.  All of these people don’t know when to keep their mouths shut, no matter what it’s saying.

Until I do lose the weight that I want, go ahead and say something to my face.  I’ve been wanting to throat-punch a bitch so bad these days.  And like I said before, I’m Flawless…

This is the end, beautiful friend

I just had my last cigarette (hopefully).  With the exceptions of my pregnancies, it’s been 24 long years of this for me.  I’m nervous.  Anxious.  Almost unprepared (even though I really am).  Tomorrow is going to be tough.  I’ve been fairly easy-going and calm lately (med change).  I’m hoping that I can remain that way and be smoke-free.  I need to be.  If I bust out of this house at 4 am tomorrow to buy another pack, I’m going to regret it.  Or if I open my Parisian souvenir pack, I’ll be kicking myself.  It’s a good thing I’m drinking right now, or I might hop in the car and do exactly what I don’t want to do.

My father would be proud of me for doing this.  Mind you, I’m not doing this for him in his memory.  I’m doing this for myself.  And yes, I can be selfish about something like this.  Yes, it benefits my family.  But I got to worry about me in order to take care of things around here.  Do you know what I mean?

Please don’t let me cave.  I’ve been preparing for a month – yes, a month – for this.  It’s time.  I’m already worried about the enlarged lymph nodes that keep coming and going over the past month.  Wait.  What if it’s the medicine that’s doing that?  I don’t think it would be one-sided though.  Do you?  I have to wait until the 22nd to find out.

I know I’m jumping, but for good reason.  Ok, for reason.  I’ve been dabbling in the wine tonight.  Nothing new.  Just enough to get me too tipsy to drive and too drunk to stay awake (and hopefully stay asleep all night).

I’m really not sure what else I really want to write here. The right side of my head is doing a slow thump.  I guess I just wanted to vent and make this the evening of a new beginning that I can thank myself for.

One of Those Days

You ever have one of those days where your mind is full of stuff but it’s so jumbled, you can’t figure anything out and why your head (figuratively) hurts you so much that it makes you sick to your stomach?  Or maybe the problem isn’t a bunch of stuff but your mind has nothing going on at all and it still does that?  I’ve been having a couple of those days lately.  I’ve been taking my medicine (speaking of which…), things seem to be totally normal for me, but I can’t shake this feeling.  My heart aches, my stomach is turning and I’m on edge.

The year, on the whole so far, has been shit, starting with the loss of my dad.  Mind you, the European trip was fabulous.  But it even seems like everyone around me is under the black cloud hanging over my family’s heads.  I know I’m being vague, but I’m not getting into all of the problems going on right now, since a lot of them do not have to do with me exclusively.  I have a couple things to look forward to:  new haircut, some new ink, a beach vacation.  I’m lucky in some aspects of my life.  Time is going fast, but not fast enough.  I know I shouldn’t wish life away, but I want some of these things that will make me happy to come faster.  I guess I’m sort of in a depressed state, even though I can’t be because I need to be there for my family, who all have their own sets of problems.  I need to be strong, a guiding force, someone to lean on, someone to cheer them up.  I try.  I really do.  But life is pounding away at me without lube right now and I can’t pinpoint the reason or reasons why.

I keep finding random coins in odd places and I know my dad is around me (laugh, if you will.  I still believe it.)  But what is he trying to say or do?  I can always guess, and for the most part, be spot on to what would come out of his mouth, if he said anything at all about something.  But we weren’t normally people to sit down and have a one on one chat.  That’s what my Grandmama was for; unfortunately, I don’t have access to her wisdom either.

I can’t think of any more to write at this time – like i said, jumbled mess or totally blank.  I just want this feeling to go away and I wish someone would tell me how to do that.  Until next time, here’s hoping for better days…

May 27, 2015 – Paris

Woke up at 2 in the morning and went to smoke (habit).  Ernie heard me and told me to come back to bed.  But, I couldn’t.  Had some coffee (by this point, the staff were used to me asking for extra coffee, creamer and sugar – I did it every day), sat around, went outside and talked to my mom at one point.  She told me a bunch of shit that was going on – same shit, same city, different day.  Then I went back and sat at the desk with a cup of coffee, contemplating writing in my journal when I actually fell asleep, head on desk.  I woke up at some point and said to myself “This won’t work”, so I finally made it back to bed.  By the time Ernie woke me, it was 7:00.  We had the Louvre to do today!  I hurried to get ready and off we went.

The Louvre is such a magnificent and confusing building at the same time.  I think I got some great pictures there.  I just wish the Mona Lisa had come out more vividly on my camera.  What are you going to do, when you can’t have any flash of any kind? (Something I got in trouble about at one of the other museums.  It was the AF Illuminator, not the flash.  Whatever.)

So, we quickly went through the museum, taking random pictures along the way.  Then we went to the cafeteria and got some pretty good food and they even had wine!  (I seriously have no idea how much wine we put away during this trip.)

After lunch, I wanted to go to the gift shop (one of many in that building), even though I wanted to originally stop at the one by the Mona Lisa.  (I did stop there, but Ernie told me to just wait.)  We headed to where it was pointing toward “boutiques”.  Bad idea.  They turned out to be different upscale stores that had nothing to do with the museum, that I could tell.  So, we had to go through security and ticket checking again.  I went to another gift shop and something he said or did just set me off and I was just in a pissy mood then.  We quickly, but quietly, started to argue.  I put the stuff back and we were going to leave.  But he said I would be mad if I didn’t get something.  So where did we end up?  At the fucking Mona Lisa shop.  All I kept thinking was “This is not how I want to spend my last full day in Paris.”  We bought trinkets and such and made the trek out of there and back to the hotel.  He bought me some ice cream as a nice gesture though.

We regrouped at the hotel, then we took the Metro to Notre Dame de Champs and took a walk through Le Jardin du Luxembourg.  From there, I had to find pain medication for my feet, which had two open blisters and swollen feet from walking.  Found a pharmacy and got some Advil (which ended up not really helping).

We headed through the Latin Quarter to see the Pantheon.  Little did we know the police or some group had it blocked off blocks away from all sides..  Ernie was disappointed (I was a little too) so we walked some more, not really talking.  When I brought up the catacombs (which he seemed interested in going to while we were home and he even brought it up at the hotel earlier), he refused to go there.  Fine.  Whatever.  This day is just fucking fantastic.

We found a place for drinks and dessert and had a quiet yet contentious talk about things.  We got through the talk and then went in search of dinner.  We found Le Petit Zinc, which was pretty good.  Actually, all the places that we stopped at were really good or above.  I tried different things, including the way dishes (plats) were prepared.  We were sat right away at all of these places, at outside tables (remember the whole smoking bit) and we could just people-watch and observe our surroundings.

We went back to the hotel for a while.  When I took off my shoes, I literally cried.  My feet hurt so bad.  It was just too much.  Ernie laid down while I repacked as much as I could so I didn’t have to do it in the morning.  I decided that I would wear my Choo’s, because I thought my feet wouldn’t be as swollen by then.

Ernie wanted to go to the bridge that came from the Invalides with these gilded statues at each corner.  I decided that, even though i was limping around, I would go with him.  It only seemed right to experience it with him.  Little did I realize, first, how far away it was and second, about the spectacular view of the Eiffel Tower lit up from that vantage point.  I was glad I went, even though I could have really used a Tuk-Tuk or even a wheelchair at that time.  We got pictures and went back to the hotel to finally sleep.

May 26, 2015 – Paris

So, I’ve been up since 3:45 am.  I got up for something, knew my alarm was going off at 4:00, so I said fuck it, I’ll stay up.  I sat down, made coffee and finished writing my last journal entry for yesterday.  By the time I finished, I thought, okay, I’ll go back to sleep.  The I saw that the clock said 4:45 and I had set my second alarm for 5;00, so there was no point.  Went outside a good bit since I had woken up, without waking up Ernie.  Got ready for the day and he finally got up and went down to breakfast with me.  Wasn’t too thrilled about it.  Oh, well.

Now, I’m waiting for him to shower and get ready.  I believe we are going to the Musée d’Orsay today; Louvre tomorrow.  I think that’s how it goes.  Possibly doing some shopping today – Louboutin, I’m coming for you.  I’m so tired but I just want to go and get moving.  Actually, I’m starting to feel homesick again.  When Ernie started talking about Paris months ago, it took me a bit, but I was getting pretty excited too.  It’s not living up to my expecations, maybe?  I don’t know.

(Did you ever notice that crumbled up potato chips are like food confetti?  Yep.  I’m that tired.)

I’m going to pause here, after that really weird thought and get my shit together to go out.

………………………………………………………………………………………..

I’m back.  After breakfast, we went to Musée d’Orsay.  Quite cold this morning – so much so, my hands were numb from the cold.  We had a museum pass so we shouldn’t have had to wait in a queue, but we must not have gone to the right area.  Dunno.

As soon as we got in there, I forgot I was in Paris.  I was just so enthralled by the artwork there.  I’m thinking about making an additional Shutterfly book just on the pictures I took at all the museums.

Afterward, Ernie started hurting, so we decided to leave and get lunch at Les Deux Musées.  He, of course, got real food, while I decided to have ice cream.  Ah, the perks of being an adult and on vacation.  I also tried crème brûlée for the first time – wasn’t too bad.  Yes, wine was the beverage of choice.  Needless to say, I got a bit (well, maybe a little more than) tipsy at the restaurant.

We made a pit stop back at the hotel, for some reason.  Can’t remember why.  Shortly after, we took a walk through the Jardin des Tuileries. which was very pretty.  We walked to the rue Saint-Honoré, which I believe is the French version of Bond Street.  Very expensive.  But I was on a mission – Christian Louboutin!  So we waited (yes, we actually had to wait in a queue outside of the store) in the hot sun for quite a bit.  They only let in a few people at a time.  At one point, I was going to leave, but then the line moved again, so I decided to wait.  I had been thinking about this since Ernie had brought it up.  It had to be done.

My turn arrived and I just stared in awe at the collection.  Then, I was told there was an upstairs!  I was in love!  So I picked one out and the lady got my equivalent size.  Then, BAM!  Reality hit.  I couldn’t fit into the shoe (with my wider foot with a bunion)!  This wasn’t happening to me!  The sales lady was very helpful and found a rounded toe nude Mary Jane – still in love.  Nope.  Mind you, I’ve been doing a lot of walking and it was warm and my feet were swollen.  Finally, she let me try on a ballet flat that was a little larger in size for me.  Big nope.  The bunion stuck out and they would’ve slipped off when I walked.  These shoes weren’t made for me.  They were made for petite, skinny females.  Not people like me.  My dream was dashed.

However, there was still hope.  I found a pair of slip-ons for Ernie and convinced him to try them on.  The sales lady left and reemerged with no box in hand.  They didn’t have his size in stock.  Deeply disappointed (at least me), we left and went back to the hotel with Ernie trying to console me.

From a short stop at the hotel, Ernie said we were going to Le Bon Marché – France’s version of Harrod’s but more reasonable.  Ok.  I’m in.  More reasonable, my ass.  At least the ground floor – Hermès, Chanel, Prada, etc….more disappointment.  We continued on and found some clothing and shoes for both of us that were expensive but doable.  I was going to get a Stella McCartney long-sleeved shirt but then I spotted shoes.  Having learned my lesson earlier, I looked for something more fitting for me.  After searching Prada and Chanel and countless other big names,  I found Jimmy Choo.

I got Ernie from where he was sitting and tried to get is opinion.  After looking at another set of Mary Janes and other heels with pointed toes (a no-no for me apparently), Ernie found sparkly black slip-ons and thought they would work for me.  I said I’d think about it and off we went to look for him.  After much searching, he found a blazer that was not bad, price-wise.  He was also looking at a pair of navy slip-on suedes.  Both were something to consider.

So, we went about searching just men’s shoes.  I told him if he proposed any penny loafers or shoes with tassels, I would turn them down.  Then we found a pair of Prada slip-ons and they were perfect!  Mr. Sensible needed to think about it.  We decided to go to the Champagne Bar for a drink and think things over.  I was starting to like those Choo’s even more.  So, we got them.  Tight, but you know why.  We found out the store was open longer so we went to look at the blazer.  The biggest size would close on him, but they were going to open it up a bit and send it home.  Ernie decided not to chance it.  And the first pair of shoes that we saw fit but they were a bit long and narrow.  So he gave up on them and also decided not to go after the Prada.

We took the Metro back and started to look for dinner.  We did so much walking (at the end of the whole story, I’ll tell you how many miles we walked) because there was nothing I liked or it was all in French.  We finally came upon Restaurant La Frégate.  Not bad at all – unfortunately, I can’t recall what I ate there.  There was quite a bit of wine drinking in both cities, but more so in Paris.  When in…Paris…  Dinner was pretty late because we got to see the sunset while we were there and that doesn’t happen until after 9:00 pm.

That was our day in the biggest nutshell you can find.