All Dressed Up

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Interesting that my last blog post was exactly 10 kilos ago! That's how I measure time now. 10 kilos ago - 22 lbs ago! 

I have been busy changing my life. Now that the dust is settling and routine is rearing its ugly head I will get back to writing.  I'm here for just a few moments so that you don't forget me. 

Since my gastric sleeve surgery 16 months ago, I have lost 41 kilos - that's 90 pounds. I will repeat that... I have lost 90.2 pounds. 

I also now wear horizontal stripes!! Please don't hate me. It just happened by accident. I was shopping at Mood in NYC for fabric to make a shirt in my sewing class (more on that another time). I chose an abstract design with the suggestion of vertical stripes. Yadda yadda yadda, turns out they were horizontal stripes! And no! You can't just work with the fabric in any direction you choose! 

I'm not going to change the name of the blog, however all the references to my old name behind the scenes on this platform may be partly responsible for keeping me away. I'm also not going to post a new picture yet. I will save it for whatever new platform I migrate to. 

In a nutshell, here's what it feels like to be me now...

• I can get dressed in 5 minutes. The remaining 85 minutes which I had allotted myself for getting ready for work go to nothing in particular and I enjoy it very much. 
• I do not fear getting out of deep, cushy sofas.
• I am not on a diet.
• I walk into any clothing store I want.  I often walk out before browsing more than one rack because the music sucks, not because the clothes won't fit. 
• I cross my legs a lot. Not because it's comfortable. Just because I can.
• I have discovered my rib cage. 
• I have discovered my undercarriage.
• I own a little black dress (!)
• Full length mirrors are my friend. Magnifying mirrors up to my face in a well lit room are not. 
• I am obsessed with outerwear, now that I can winter without feeling like Ursa Major.
• I get stabbing gas pains from cabbage.
• I don't dread going to the gym, but I don't love it either. 
• I eat a lot of protein. 
• I miss having big boobs but I'll live.
• I can probably jog but have no interest in trying.
• I can wear tights and sneakers to run errands and still feel pretty.

The list goes on, but lest you suspect that everything is peachy, I mostly feel like I'm all dressed up with no place to go.

So for now, please accept this sign of life from me as a virtual hug. Thanks for all the encouragement. Love you one and all. 

Don't Call Us, We'll Call You...

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This is what I do when someone I like doesn't answer my call... 

1. I call everyone I know who won't answer my call.
2. Then I call everyone who was a passing ship in the night - just to drive it home.
3. Then I will write texts that I know won't get answered. 
4. Then I will wallow in self-pity.

Somewhere between points 2 and 3 I remind myself that I'm better than this. By point 4 I have forgotten. 

There used to be a point 5 which alternated between buying a small appliance and eating ice cream. At my worst, they coincided. 

Now I count to 10 and indulge in a few moments of quiet reflection. 

Voila! I no longer am afraid of my own reflection! Literally! Let's go look in the mirror!!

My butt is white-girl small.

My chest bones are visible (do they have a name other than "those-bones-that-every-fat-woman-notices-on-skinny-women"?)

My hair looks well above average. 

So what if I haven't met that guy that not only wants to be with me, but I want to be with him? 

A world of opportunity is before me. 

I have shed 31 kilos so far. 

Just to be clear. 

It is not the skinny me that suddenly has opportunities that fat me didn't. It is skinny me that is shedding burdens, baggage, and every possible cliche, because I am creating opportunity. 

I am taking drastic, life changing steps to shed my debt.

Soon I will emerge a tabula rasa of sorts, never too old to start over, never too old to remake myself, never too old to correct wrongs. 

I am not quite there yet. 

But for the time being I am enjoying sitting cross-legged on a bar stool without rolling off.

Groucho was Right.

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Someone wants to have coffee with me tonight.

I had one conversation with him last night and he called me this morning.

In the course of the next few hours I will determine everything that is wrong with him.

After all, he wants to have coffee with me.

It matters little that I saw him on a dating site and I wrote to him. He answered. So something is wrong with him.

What does it matter that he turned out to be a lawyer who enjoys travelling, theater and cinema and wants to be in a relationship? He answered. So something must be wrong with him.

Here is everything that is wrong with him so far:

1.      He told me he would call me at 10pm and he did.

2.      He coughed twice.

3.      He used the speaker on his phone.

4.      He asked me if I like Israel.

5.      He asked me if I like to dance.

6.      He asked me if I go to a gym.

7.      He was impressed that I am at work at 8am

I am one step away from Elaine's famous breakup over punctuation.

Do I really want to be in a club that would have me as a member?

I'll let you know when my self-esteem gets the memo from my new thinner self advising of the changes.