On Monday of this past week, I found the moon. It was fat, full, gluttonous, and bright. I have a picture to prove it.
I have another resolution for this relatively new year: to be as artistic in possible in all that I do.
I deposited my second royalty check – $23.22. From October 29th to December 31st, I have made $95.40. I am not, and have never been, a “numbers person.” I am not sure if this means I am doing well, average, or poor. All I know is that I want to keep writing, and I suppose that is the most important thing. I did little to no writing this week, which is possibly why this blog post is so scattered and superficial.
I am convinced that in a former life, I was happily married to Ricky Ricardo.
Running in the wind is romantic and freeing. Running in the wind and the rain is stupid.
There is a dry, red, and raw patch of skin on my hand between my thumb and pointer finger. When I stick the cap on the opposite end of the pen, the plastic irritates the area. I have icky winter skin. I am over the cold, bitter weather.
I am sick of being tired.
I am envious of Winona Ryder – or at least her hair, especially when it is short. I remember feeling similarly after seeing, “Girl, Interrupted.” I watched “Reality Bites.” I liked the tone of it and I do sincerely miss the 1990s somewhat. I really am a fan of the earthy, sloppy fashion that was considered chic. I would like to bring that style back, but am unsure if I would be able to do so single-handedly, and am equally unsure if there would even be any other willing participants; I might have no other choice than to embark on a lone wolf fashion revolution. Either way, I am going to dress and style my hair accordingly – I am excited to buy new clothes once I lose the weight. Manufacturers really do not make fashionable habiliments for larger people.
I am mostly excited for Spring Break and vacation in Florida. I called my Aunt Kim tonight and squared away the details. Dad and his friend Andy fitted my car with new struts and fixed a leak that had to do with the transmission. I am constantly making a mental list of what I want to do before leaving. Lately, the trip has been all that I have been thinking about. I do not mind going alone, but Mom is thinking about coming along, and that does not upset me at all.
Sometimes, when I wash my face, I make the water too hot and steam rises up from the sink basin in the bathroom, and the water burns my hands, and opens my pores so wide that they sizzle. Once I was worried because for a brief moment, I could not get the cold tap to turn. Eventually I did, and it made me think of that scene from “My Cousin Vinny” when Marissa Tomei and Joe Pesci are ironically analyzing the dripping faucet that is off-screen as litigators would in court. Then I wonder how a casting director could match Pesci with Tomei (or vice versa). I worry that such wondering makes me shallow. Am I shallow? Am I a bad person?
What if I do not find romance after my teeth are straightened and after I’ve lost the weight? Will I have to conclude the defect is not my physical appearance, but in my personality, my very being?
I am going to take up painting this summer.
I need to write.
My last baby tooth, which never fell out, was pulled on the last day of February. So long, Little Mandi. The very last tangible remnant of my childhood was violently yanked from me. It was for the best – it was causing an infection and discoloration – but I was sad to see it go. I am reluctant to grow up and relinquish my sometimes irrational passions, and I am unwilling compromise between responsibility and desire; I don’t wanna. But then again, I am getting braces. Maybe it all works out and I will never have to escape my adolescence.
The way to blast blubber this week was to give up extreme thinking. I set a realistic goal of losing two pounds, and I lost 1.8 pounds; just two ounces shy. I have lost 18 pounds total since beginning dieting and exercising and I am getting closer to my goal. Chipping away little by little is okay; I am seeing results without being perfect or extreme, and that is both a very important and difficult lesson to learn.
Another week over, another four pounds lost! I literally could not be happier right now! All the denial and all of the grumbling are paying off! I am not sure where that leaves me in the standings of the competition at work, but honestly, who cares? I don’t need the money if I lose the weight! Also, I’ve purchased an Omron HJ-112 Pocket Pedometer, as suggested by the LA Times article, “52 ways to leave your blubber.” Ideally, the average human being should get up to between 10,000 and 15,000 steps a day. I think I can meet the goal, especially when I start introducing brief intervals of jogging to my walking regimen.
This week’s theme seemed to be self-improvement as I found myself at the dentist, too. It had been the first time I’d been to the dentist in well over a decade. The sterile smell of the office clashed terribly with the sleek, technologically advanced atmosphere; for a moment, I could have believed I was walking back to a tanning bed rather than a leather chair. I had a full set of x-rays taken and my teeth were cleaned. Good news: minimal tartar buildup and only one cavity! I also can have braces put on that cannot be seen even though I don’t qualify for Invisalign. Bad news: I have a baby tooth that never fell out so that has to be pulled, and the dentist mentioned removing my wisdom teeth, but wants to wait until I meet with the orthodontist because there is a slight chance that might not be necessary. All in all, the appointment was not as horrifying or painful as I had imagined.
I also purchased a car this week! It is a 2002 Chrysler Sebring convertible.
It runs great, the heat works, and the inspection is good until May of 2014! The airbag light started coming on today, but my dad (who has been a mechanic for years and years) does not think it’s anything to worry about. I hope he’s right; I tend to have bad luck with cars, as previous posts can testify to. Last night, my family and I – minus my little brother who is at the age where he would rather be with friends than family – celebrated my new car at Charlie Brown’s Steakhouse. It was a lot of fun and the food was delicious! It is nights like those that help to remind me how blessed I am to be surrounded with love and support, and reignite my desire to be a part of such a loving support system for others. That sentiment goes hand in hand with the Gospel reading from Mass, which I attended earlier today:
My friend Eric and his mom enjoyed my novel! Eric sent me a message to let me know, which was sweet.
I have compiled a list of local booksellers to begin visiting in April, when the weather is warmer and the school year is winding down. I want to set up book signings and readings and whatnot. Wish me luck!
Love and be loved. Love and life are all that matter. ❤
As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, my sister and her husband and their children are visiting. I wouldn’t trade my time with them for anything in the world, but I was disappointed that I had to decline an invitation to the bar with friends. I’m worried about why I’m disappointed – I want it to be because my one friend is only visiting for a short time and I really would like to see him again before he returns home, but I’m afraid that I’m really disappointed because I actually believe I could go out and meet someone, and every time I deny myself such an opportunity, I’m signing my own death sentence of sorts. I know that’s melodramatic, but it’s eye-opening, none the less. I need to cut ties with juvenile notions and silly daydreams and become an adult. I am not going to meet the love of my life out at a bar because that is not the kind of girl that I am.
To be fair, bars are different from clubs. I’d probably fare better at a bar because no one’s grinding to a manufactured beat. Usually, everyone is just drinking and playing pool. That kind of crowd is definitely more my speed.
But what’s more important; spending time with family visiting from out-of-state, or tracking down a potential future husband? It is these kind of mundane struggles that life is filled with, and they create regrets. Anyway, that’s my belief. I am totally open to other explanations, and freely admit that I could be over-thinking things, as I am known to do.
I also do not want to be obsessed with romance. I want there to be more to me than stolen glances and cheap caresses.
Don’t we all?
PROMPT: A dentist is stabbed while he waits in line at the movies.
PIECE: Dr. Ellis was a dentist and a mediocre one at that. He wasn’t terrible but he didn’t have as many repeat patients as he would like. He wasn’t excellent and sometimes, he did forget to numb patients. He was competent, but not worthy of any particular praise. He was average and some nights, that fact bothered him. Some nights, the fact did not. Tonight belonged to the latter category; he was much too intoxicated to give a damn about anything, let alone his professional reputation.
Janice had left him. Dr. Ellis had come home and found that everything seemed somewhat off. The little hairs that were typically useless were standing at attention, so he decided to investigate. Setting his briefcase on the floor just inside the front door, his expensive shoes with the clicking soles traversed up the wooden staircase and kept left. He entered the master bedroom and went to the closet. Throwing the curtain doors aside, Dr. Ellis realized that it was as he feared; Janice’s things were gone. He moved to the dresser on the other side of the room and pulled out the top drawer on the right side – her side – only to find it empty. Stomach flipping end over end, he made a detour to the bathroom to deposit the contents of his churning intestines into the porcelain bowl. Wiping his mouth with his forearm, Dr. Ellis took shaking steps into the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water, spilling it slightly here and there, before sitting at the table. The top was marble and Janice had picked it out. He had admired her taste until now. Now, he wanted to smash the table to bits and chuck said bits at Janice’s face, marring her beauty with tiny nicks and cuts that drew blood. It was violent and animal-like and he should know better, but so fucking what? She had left him out of the blue – he was entitled to be bitter.
The tears and the trembling came and in this completely emasculated state, Dr. Ellis discovered the letter in the middle of the table. She started off with the typical bullshit: she didn’t know when they started to become strangers, only that it happened. She thought he was always far from home, even when he was beside her because his mind was always somewhere else, always moving a million miles a minute when she desperately needed him there, in the present, with her.
She took a paragraph to explain that she did not leave him because of problems between the sheets. She used five to seven sentences to be absolutely clear that she did not care that he had trouble getting it up more often than not. Janice wanted it to be known that she wasn’t that kind of shallow woman, and that Dr. Ellis should not feel like any less of a man.
But him not really providing for her, neglecting her and not proposing marriage – all of that should make him feel like a complete and total douche bag and less of a man, she wrote. Janice was devastated that she had wasted years on the dentist and didn’t intend to waste another second.
So she was gone.
Dr. Ellis got good and liquor-ed up and went to the movies. He hadn’t paid the cable bill, but needed some kind of mindless, visual stimuli to keep the pain at bay for at least another 90 minutes. Unfortunately, Dr. Ellis needed such relief on a rainy Friday night – everybody and their fucking brother was the local cineplex. He swayed in the never-ending line, blinking slowly and licking at his dry lips. He wondered if the woman in the ticket booth would notice that he was three sheets to the wind. If she did, would she say anything? It was hard to tell. If she was good-looking, should Dr. Ellis say something? Was that too soon
Dr. Ellis was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he did not hear the guttural screams from behind him. He did not catch the winking metal as it was caught in the overhead lights. It was not until he felt a searing pain in his side that he realized he had been stabbed. Clutching his side, he fell to the ground and looked up. A wild-looking woman with sweat-slicked hair and wide eyes stood above him and she was shrieking. Most of it was unintelligible. He was able to catch the words “no” and “Novocaine” and “numb” and “dick.”
Heh. So numb was Dr. Ellis to everything around him that he had lost his girlfriend and his professional reputation, and maybe even his life. Still, he couldn’t care.