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lighter notes

2004-11-18 - 11:57 a.m.

I'm realizing my last post may have come off a little darker than I intended. I do not feel myself to be lost in a dark wood, nor do I feel consumed by this issue. I don't know that I'm necessarily the happiest girl alive right now, but that has more to do with the fact that my job has been insane, and not in a good I'm-so-busy-with-challenging-exciting-things, but more in a my-god-won't-any-damn-thing-work-correctly-around-here-and-why-did-I-volunteer-for-the-holiday-party-committee-anyway-I-can't-believe-I-let-myself-get-duped-into-that-one way. That, and I'm just generally feeling stressed and exhausted what with the holidays and various Calif. trips and organizing my life for the hectic December I know is looming ahead--PLUS the food issue, which is always worse around the holidays. Because duh, if I could just let there be fudge in the kitchen without constantly thinking about it I wouldn't have this problem.

I think that's what drives me nuts about people who can stop eating when they know they should. I wonder if they're aware that some of us will just keep thinking about the food until it's gone, much like an alcoholic will fixate on a bottle of liquor until she either drinks it or pours it down the drain. Sometimes I think I eat things just because I'm sick and tired of constantly thinking about them. That's where I'm eager to try this whole "honor it as a relative" idea. This year, I'm just going to let myself obsess without worrying about it. I'll let myself be aware of the craving and then move on, giving myself permission to crave and not beat myself up for not being strong enough not to want the fudge. Please understand, I don't mean I'm going to let myself eat whatever I want--but I'm not going to feel guilty for eating a couple pieces of fudge, and I'm not going to let myself feel guilty for wanting to eat a whole lot more. If I have the time, I'll put on my shoes and go out for a run, or practice some music, or whatever. But I can't realistically distract myself from cravings for the rest of my life. I need to learn to deal with this, not how to ignore it and hope it will go away.

Okay, I think this offically wraps up the food issue posts. I've grown bored with examining it here, and I'm sure you have all grown bored reading about it.

In other news, I would dearly love to purchase some tiny antlers for the cat, but I have a sneaking suspicion this will be vetoed by the husband. If we ever do have that holiday open house we keep talking about, imagine how adorable she'd look, sulking in the corner with teensy tiny reindeer antlers affixed to her head. We could take a series of pictures and write a children's story called "The Tiniest Reindeer." It would be a blatant ripoff of Rudoplh and would feature Thistle as the lonely, outcast, yet ultimately crucial reindeer, coming to save the day and Santa's master plans with her amazing ability to take up space inversely proportionate to her size. Then we could give it to the nieces and nephews for Christmas next year, and when they pout at getting a crap gift, we can tell them about how we had to walk in the snow in barefeet uphill both ways through a blizzard, and when we got coal in our stockings we were grateful, because now we could burn it and have heat for the night. And besides, what would The Tiniest Reindeer do with a crap gift? She'd make the best of it and use it as a litter box, that's what.

I recently purchased holiday cards, and I believe all of you will be receiving the twisted Edward Gorey cards, as opposed to the more innocuous (and undeniably more cute) Make Way For Ducklings (In the Snow!) cards. R suggested that I use my rapier-sharp wit to write a holiday letter, but I gently reminded him that the people who'd be interested in the exploits of our cat could be counted on one hand, with fingers left over. I may compose said holiday letter and inflict it upon you, my gentle readers. I promise it shall contain no morose posts about food, nor any allusions to or quotes from Dante. Edited to Add: Durr, not all of you actually know me. If you'd like to receive an Edward Gorey Holiday! card, you may e-mail me your address at wealhtheow1AT{REMOVEME}macDOTcom.

 

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Die Entfuehrung aus dem Serail (The Abduction From
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