Just the other day, my husband looked at me and told me how much better his life is with me in it. He told me how, when he was single, despite his overall satisfaction with his life, there was something missing. He made me feel loved and appreciated. I laid awake in bed that night thinking about what he'd said. I was touched; I always enjoy it when he expresses his affection and care for me. But my thoughts quickly turned. When we first married, my body was soft and curvy, never skinny. But now it is lumpy and distorted, stretched and swollen. He has never, not once, criticized my appearance. Have I dissapointed him? Does he long for someone else? How long will he tolerate this?
Is it possible to let someone else love you when you can barely tolerate yourself?
Thursday, October 30, 2008
November 5th cannot get here fast enough. I'm not sure which is worse, that people are so fickle (or stupid?) so as to believe 15-second sound-bites equate to actual policy/decision making/reasons to vote for someone or that politicians and news media perpetuate the cycle...
I wish people would pay as much attention to local matters and local elections as they pay to national issues and elections. A person can affect the most change on the local level, do the most good (or the most harm). We have a global economy and instantaneous information at our fingertips and of course national policy is neccessary. Most, if not all, of our ills, however, can be cured at the local level...poverty, the environment, unemployment, housing, homelessness, energy, education, all of it. Improving social capital on the local level is the best way to improve our society on every level. One man in the White House, 435 men and women in the House, and 100 men and women in the Senate cannot do as much to better this country and the lives of our citizens as the indiviuals and families in our own communities.
As an ardent follower of local matters, I often find myself wondering if I am the only one paying attention to those...people...we've elected to run our city or am I just the only one who votes? Do people not realize the decisions being made and their impacts on our lives? Surely we are intelligent people and would not let this nonsense carry on? I'm not sure where the blame lies - with those of us who voted them into office or with those of us who do not bother to vote at all.
I am encouraged and impressed with voter turn out for this election. Already, even before election day, we have seen record nubmers of voters at the polls. I hear that it is expected that half of all eligible voters will be voting this year. How do we leverage this historic turn-out to improve ourselves on the local level? Afterall, true democratic decisions can only be made on the smallest level. "We the people" are not in Washington; we the people are here in our cities and towns, in our neighborhoods. All this talk about Wall Street and Main Street - Washington doesn't even know what Main Street is anymore.
I wish people would pay as much attention to local matters and local elections as they pay to national issues and elections. A person can affect the most change on the local level, do the most good (or the most harm). We have a global economy and instantaneous information at our fingertips and of course national policy is neccessary. Most, if not all, of our ills, however, can be cured at the local level...poverty, the environment, unemployment, housing, homelessness, energy, education, all of it. Improving social capital on the local level is the best way to improve our society on every level. One man in the White House, 435 men and women in the House, and 100 men and women in the Senate cannot do as much to better this country and the lives of our citizens as the indiviuals and families in our own communities.
As an ardent follower of local matters, I often find myself wondering if I am the only one paying attention to those...people...we've elected to run our city or am I just the only one who votes? Do people not realize the decisions being made and their impacts on our lives? Surely we are intelligent people and would not let this nonsense carry on? I'm not sure where the blame lies - with those of us who voted them into office or with those of us who do not bother to vote at all.
I am encouraged and impressed with voter turn out for this election. Already, even before election day, we have seen record nubmers of voters at the polls. I hear that it is expected that half of all eligible voters will be voting this year. How do we leverage this historic turn-out to improve ourselves on the local level? Afterall, true democratic decisions can only be made on the smallest level. "We the people" are not in Washington; we the people are here in our cities and towns, in our neighborhoods. All this talk about Wall Street and Main Street - Washington doesn't even know what Main Street is anymore.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
It's official - I'm fat
I've always known this to be true. After all, it's been the case since I was seven years old. I remember waiting in line for school uniforms with my mom before I started first grade and having to get a "special size." I see it and feel it every single day. But this morning, it was like my fat pants slapped me in the face.
It was cold this morning, the kind of cold that makes you want to snuggle deeper under the covers instead of facing the day. Alas, I have to earn a paycheck, so I had to get up. I had to put on pants, it was too cold for anything else.
I pulled out a pair of black pants, my go-to work attire. They are too small. I can't even get the button to meet the hole, much less get it through the hole. I reach for a brown pair, first checking the size. Same size as the black pants, but surely the brown pants will fit. I actually manage to get these buttoned, but I know that if I sit down, bend, or exhale, the button will no longer be attached to the pants. I stood there, stupidly staring at my closet as if new pants would magically appear. Or as if I could magically make myself fit into some of the pants already in my closet.
I resign myself to wearing a skirt with a nice, stretchy elastic waistband. It's too cold for a skirt, but I'm pretty sure they would frown on my comfy, elastic-waist track pants at the office. I want to cry. These are the fat pants that I keep at the back of my closet. The "I'll never get that big again" pants. How is that I've managed to not only get that big, but bigger? The pants beg the question, what are you going to do about yourself? The pants, literally, looked me in the eye and said, "how did you let this happen?" My pants call me names. I feel a deep sadness that I can never fully verbalize.
Maybe tomorrow the pants will fit.
It was cold this morning, the kind of cold that makes you want to snuggle deeper under the covers instead of facing the day. Alas, I have to earn a paycheck, so I had to get up. I had to put on pants, it was too cold for anything else.
I pulled out a pair of black pants, my go-to work attire. They are too small. I can't even get the button to meet the hole, much less get it through the hole. I reach for a brown pair, first checking the size. Same size as the black pants, but surely the brown pants will fit. I actually manage to get these buttoned, but I know that if I sit down, bend, or exhale, the button will no longer be attached to the pants. I stood there, stupidly staring at my closet as if new pants would magically appear. Or as if I could magically make myself fit into some of the pants already in my closet.
I resign myself to wearing a skirt with a nice, stretchy elastic waistband. It's too cold for a skirt, but I'm pretty sure they would frown on my comfy, elastic-waist track pants at the office. I want to cry. These are the fat pants that I keep at the back of my closet. The "I'll never get that big again" pants. How is that I've managed to not only get that big, but bigger? The pants beg the question, what are you going to do about yourself? The pants, literally, looked me in the eye and said, "how did you let this happen?" My pants call me names. I feel a deep sadness that I can never fully verbalize.
Maybe tomorrow the pants will fit.
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