Say 'Cheese'!

I thought that it was time to update my panel photo.  I HATE "selfies" taken in a mirror, but I'm home alone tonight, so...

I went back to work/school on Monday and it's been a pretty good week.  Hard to believe it's Wednesday already!  People around me at school are sick--and it seems that ALL kinds of things are going around!  Stomach bugs, flu, sore throats, bronchitis, laryngitis and so on...all things I don't want right now!!!

Truth is, I think I'm healthier now.  That sounds stupid.  Of COURSE I'm healthier now as far as my weight goes--my blood pressure is normal, my heart is healthy, etc.  But I think that my general health is better now, too.  (Knock on wood!)

The only problem I've been having is sleeping all night--and it sucks.  I wake up almost EVERY morning at 3:30...almost like clockwork.  Last night was the first night that I woke up and went RIGHT back to sleep--and I didn't expect to because I had had a little iced tea before hand!  I drink so very little caffeine, I thought that it would really bother me.  The tea I had yesterday was the first in about a month; I drink spring water almost exclusively.

So...what do you think of the new pic?  Between the pounds (145 gone) and the new 'do, I hardly recognize myself some days!  But it's a really GOOD change!

What's In a Name?

No, I'm not quoting Shakespeare.  (At least not now--those who know me know I do so regularly, though...)  Today's topic has to do with another aspect of dating for...um...shall we say "seasoned" daters.

Dee and I had dinner last night, but it was not the dinner I had planned.  Shannon's great-grandmother called me shortly before we were to leave to head to our "half-way" meeting place, which is about an hour and fifteen minutes from home.  She was having car trouble, so I had to take Shannon all the way home.  A five-hour car trip was definitely cutting into the dinner plans I had made!  However, I think it was John Lennon who said, "Life is what happens when you're making other plans"!  So, I sent Dee a quick text that we might have to change our plans and took Shannon to Chik-fil-A for lunch before we got on the road.

After we got our food, I called Dee.  It was pretty apparent that he didn't want to cancel completely so I asked if he minded picking up a pizza and joining me later than originally planned.  This man's mantra is "no problem".  It's SO nice to be with someone like that! Shannon's great-grandmother was able to borrow a different car to meet me at the edge of their city, which saved me about an hour, and I was able to get home by 5:30. It was really foggy, and because I knew that he would be traveling to my house by a similar route, I sent him a quick text to warn him to be careful.  When I'm driving, I ALWAYS dictate texts, although Siri sometimes gets things wrong.  In this case, she REALLY messed up.  First text said it was "5 D" out.  5 D instead of foggy?  I also discovered, when he was called me at 7:15, late and lost, that she had completely messed up the address I had voice-texted to him!  Poor guy!  He remembered that I don't live far from the school where I work, so he found his way there and called me!  I managed to talk him here--I live out a bit, but he finally got here, and we had a lovely evening.

So...four dates and I think we're on a roll.  His schedule is different from mine, so I'm not sure when I'll see him again, but I know I will.  Which brings me to the title question.

What do you call the person you're dating when you're no longer fifteen?  When we go to a basketball game at school next week, how do I introduce him?  My friend?  Too platonic.  My boyfriend? Again, not 15 anymore.  My lover? Too laughable--and it reminds me of Carrie Bradshaw telling everyone about Aleksandr Petrovsky in Sex and the City when Sarah Jessica Parker's character first gets involved with Mikhail Baryshnikov's character.  Nope.   My gentleman friend? Sure.  Hand me a fan in case I get the vapors.  Nope.  Next!  My companion? Sure, if he was a cocker spaniel.  It seems young adults use terms like "bae" (which I understand means "shit" in Denmark although it's SUPPOSED to be a term of endearment here), "hubby" (which is wrong, presumptuous and ridiculous) and "MCM" (for Man-crush Monday--an Instagram trend).  Sigh.  None of these work.

So, I guess I'll just use...um...well...his name!  "Hi, this is Dee."  I don't need to describe him as "my" anything!  I'm just happy to have such a problem!

It's Sunday--and I'm back to work tomorrow, so I need to go do all the school work I didn't do the past two weeks!  Have a great day, and thanks for reading!

The Dating Dilemma

People often misuse the word "dilemma".  The prefix "di" indicates "two", so a dilemma is, in the very truest meaning of the word, a "situation requiring a choice between TWO equally undesirable alternatives."  The keywords in that definition, I think are "equally undesirable."  As a divorced woman, I have to choose between staying home alone (or hanging out with my few female friends) or putting myself (and my heart) out there in the dating world.  If you've dated at ALL in the last 20 years, you'll know what I mean. It's brutal!  Married men on the prowl, guys looking for casual sex, foreign scammers...you would not believe how rough it is out there.  So why would an intelligent woman even try?  Good question!

Tonight, I'm making dinner for "D".  (I really don't want to reveal his name now, so I think I'll make that initial a word and will start calling him 'Dee' for ease.)  Dee and I have been out three times now.  We met online and had our first date a couple of weeks ago--lunch at Applebee's.  (If you haven't tried their politically incorrectly named "Oriental Chicken Salad", you really need to! Delicious, but I digress...)  Our second date was dinner at Chili's and a Netflix movie at my house.  He was a perfect gentleman (or so you're going to think because I'm not giving away any details.  And don't think my lack of details is an admission of guilt or acknowledgement of ANYTHING!)  Our third date was a movie--he actually took me to Into the Woods.  I had given him a choice of either Unbroken or Top Five, thinking both movies were "guy-friendly" films.  In passing, I mentioned that I wanted to see Into the Woods. (For those of you who may not know, the movie is a Stephen Sondheim musical based on the Broadway plan of the same name.  A musical!)  Imagine my surprise when he texted me the times for Into the Woods!  When it was over, (and it's wonderful, by the way), I told him, "Oh, I owe you big for this one!" and he said, in his quiet, calm way, "It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be."

That blew me away.  He went to see this movie because I wanted to.  He figured it was going to be bad, but he was willing to see it to make me happy! I honestly don't think I've ever been with a man, including my ex-husband, who agreed to see something I wanted to see. 

So tonight I'm cooking dinner for him.  I'm roasting a chicken, making mashed potatoes, corn (because he's "not big on vegetables" which is not a big deal as neither am I) and a dessert I haven't quite figured out yet.  I have a busy day ahead of me because I have some cleaning to do, shopping to do,  and I have to take Shannon back to her great-grandmother.  And I'm nervous.  Four dates!  This could be a make-it or break-it date.  This could be the start of something.  This man seems to be a very nice, but am I a good judge of character?  I don't know.  I really don't.  All I do know is that I could really like this man.  I mean really like him.

So...the dilemma.  Do I continue to risk heartbreak?  Or do I get used to being alone?  I don't want to get used to being alone, because while I love my "me" time, I don't want to spend all of my days alone.  I asked Dee pointblank what he wants out of life and out of love.  His response?  "I want to be loved and someone that wants me and to have fun." 

Simple and to the point, right?  That's what I want, too.  So of course, I'm going to risk heartbreak.  After all, (to quote an old commercial), I'm worth it!  So maybe, in its truest meaning, dating isn't a dilemma for me.  So stay tuned.  I'll let you know how it goes.  Just don't expect any details...

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall; Can I Trust You AT ALL?

One of the most amazing things about this surgery is getting used to your new body.  At three years and two months post surgery, I have to wonder if I'm EVER going to be able to accept that I don't look like I used to!

When I was big, I rarely let anyone take my photo.  I posed for the "before" photo because I knew that I wouldn't look like that forever.  I DO have photos (from the shoulders up) that I thought were "good" pictures of me.  When I look at those photos, I'm appalled.  I don't remember being THAT big.  I know I weighed 305 at my largest, but I still don't remember being that big.  I looked in mirrors and NEVER saw myself that big.

So now, when I look at this much smaller version of myself in the mirror, I get a little freaked out.  Do I REALLY look that small?  How can I trust the mirror?  I don't think I can.  It's a little different when I look at photographs.  Photographs I tend to trust a little more...although I'm not sure why.

I used to feel SO pretty in this dress.  I was HUGE.

This photo was taken yesterday.  Me, on a HORSE.  I haven't been on a horse since I was about 12...I'm trying to make up for lost time.  There was so much I didn't get to do when I was fat.  Two weekends ago, I went back to Carowinds and rode every roller coaster I could find.  I had so much fun on the horse yesterday that I'm going to take riding lessons beginning November 5th.


If you've read my blog for any length of time, you know that my former fiance, James, didn't think he could be attracted to me when I lost the weight.  So it's ironic that his "new" girlfriend (he started with her immediately after I broke up with him) is having gastric bypass on Monday!  I want to warn her about him, about how he'll try to sabotage her success as he tried to sabotage mine, but perhaps she has to find out for herself.  I've never met her but from what I see in photographs, she's considerably larger than I EVER was...

I wish her well.  I really do.  I hope she's taken care of the psychological reasons she has eaten herself into needing this surgery, so that she can lose the weight and KEEP it off.  I hope she goes to the post-surgical classes and follows every step to the letter.  But no matter how many classes one attends, no matter how prepared one thinks one is for this surgery, life afterward will NEVER be the same.  And I, for one, am SO grateful for the difference, even though I still find it hard to trust the mirror!

Little Girl Lost...

Before one has gastric bypass surgery, one has to go through some rather rigorous testing, including consultations with a cardiologist, gastroenterologist, nutritionist and psychologist.  I passed all these tests with flying colors, or I wouldn't have been able to have the surgery.  However, even with all the tests, with all the support, no one prepared me for what's going on in my life today.

I feel lost, for lack of a better term.  I don't recognize the person I used to look like, but I don't recognize the NEW body, either.  Here's a photo that my friend Dorothy took the day I had  my two-week post-surgical visit where I was (finally) allowed to eat solid food.  The photo commemorates my first bite of mashed potatoes.

 

By the time this photo was taken, I had lost about 20 pounds (and I had lost 5 before the surgery), so I probably weighed 280.  I honestly don't remember being THAT big. I KNOW that I was, but I never saw myself that big.

This photo was taken yesterday by my former student, Naomi.  We went to lunch and then shopping where I had to buy a belt.  (For the first time in my life!)  I wasn't sure that she was taking a photo of me--I actually thought she was taking a photo of the little dog sculpture.)

I'm not sure who that woman is.  Seriously.  It's MY shirt and purse, but whose BODY is that?  When people see me for the first time in a long time, they blurt, "You're so small!"  Cherry, at the Thai restaurant, said it.  Deborah, whom I hadn't seen in ages, didn't recognize me until I said, "It's me, Rhonda!"  Her reply was, "You're so small!"  So it must be true, right?  And yet, I don't FEEL small.  It's a bizarre paradox...I don't think I'm as big as the old photos show me to be, but I certainly don't FEEL as small as I look in this photo.  Having a concept of "self" is just foreign to me today.

I've had a hard time articulating this to the people in my life--and even to myself.  I hope this makes some sense...and if anyone else has had this body-image issue, PLEASE leave me a comment!!