CRAP. I’M SO FREAKIN’ HAPPY! March 31, 2008
These past few months, I’ve been so happy. I’m trying to figure out what happened. I’ve lived the past 20 years as a miserable and emo curmudgeon, and now I’ve had more moments of loopy happiness, that keeps building and building and building, than I’ve had my whole life. I even freakin’ joined the freakin’ YMCA, people. I was even excited when I drove into the parking lot of the Y this morning and couldn’t find a spot because it was filled with cars, and there were mothers with children and old people everywhere. (I think those are the people who use the Y during the day.) AND I AM USUALLY TERRIFIED OF PEOPLE!
But it’s phenomenal that I exercise almost every day. And now, in public. That is a huge NSV for me. I think I’ve finally killed the “fitness” mindset that got programmed into me in high school. Which is that it was basically cool to be miserable while exercising, that you should make up every excuse not to do it, and never let anyone see you sweat.
And then the mindset that developed through adulthood: that you can only be fit if you have a certain (skinny) body. That you’re not fit if you can’t keep up with the tiny aerobics instructor. Screw that. Your level is fitness is relative to what your body could do a month ago. That is the standard you should measure from, not what you think you should be doing.
Today, I’m on a high. I can fit into the pants I wore when I met DH. They’re a little tight, but I can zip them up easily. I don’t remember the last time I could do that. I know that I won’t feel this elation tomorrow, or next week. I know that visiting my family in a couple weeks will probably be difficult and turn me back into Emo Mommy, because they always, always have a way of doing that.
But I am recording this moment for posterity to look back on when I next lose momentum.
I apologize for my crazy writing style. My best friend used to say I write like Yoda. My use of commas drove her nutty. I’m generally not apologetic for my grammar on daily posts, but on pure prose, I feel a tad guilty.

I ordered a dress for my brother’s wedding from Igigi, and it arrived today. I actually ordered two dresses — one in red, size 22/24 (because I was between sizes when I took my measurements), and then a green one in 26/28. Ordering two was somewhat accidental. I ordered the red one, and then later that afternoon they put the same dress up on their website but in three other colors. One was green (my favorite color), so I called and cancelled the red dress order, and they said it hadn’t shipped yet. I ordered the green one online, and not even two minutes after I ordered it, I got an email saying the red dress had shipped. I called back, and it had in fact shipped. Ah well. It arrived today, so since I’ll be paying to ship it back I thought I might as well try it on.
A long, long time ago, we were living in Minnesota. It was damn cold and I wanted B&M baked beans. See, there’s this B&M factory back in Portland, right behind Tukey’s bridge, and they make baked beans, which you can find in grocery stores outside of Maine, and also these bizarre canned brown bread that I’ve never seen outside of Maine. I only eat B&M baked beans because I don’t like canned baked beans. Well, actually I love canned baked beans, but I don’t like eating food from a can unless I’m in a fallout shelter and all I have to eat is canned foods or, like, my family.