Thursday, July 23, 2009

Big day tomorrow!

An acquaintance wrote this on her page on a forum we're both on, dedicated to weight loss surgery. She said I could quote her, and I wanted to credit her, but I only know her username: Bitchy McSnipe. (Incidentally, I LOVE that username.) Anyway, this is what she wrote:

I love my fat.
It padded me when I fell and kept me warm in the cold.
It gave me non-traditional heroes and even stranger interests.
It taught me that you can get higher quality love interests at 236 lbs with a quick wit, joi de vivre, fierce style, and sincere confidence than you ever could with a tiny ass and a cookiecutter personality.
It introduced me to meet the most creative and interesting friends on the planet.
It trusted me to build my own distinct and evolved style as I was unable to fit - literally - into mainstream beauty standards.
It showed me that when you accept yourself and every inch of your body, you and your lovers will know the ancient pleasures of the courtesans.
It kept me from leading a superficial lifestyle and drove me to travel the world in search of more.
It showed me how to fight back, and where to hide the bodies.
It taught me to wear my scars like jewels.

And now that I've learned all of its lessons, it's time to let it go.

And that's where I am now. In about 10 hours, I will be deep in a drug-induced sleep, having my insides rearranged a bit, with the goal of having my outside look and feel gads better. Eventually. Soon. Not soon enough, but sooner than if I did nothing. And I haven't been doing nothing. For 25 years I've been dieting myself heavier and heavier, and somewhere inside this chubby suit I've created around myself, there's a much smaller and healthier me just itchin' to get out.

So as of right now, I'm officially on a little medical vay-cay. I'm planning on taking a week to really do nothing but heal and adjust to this new lifestyle. And after that, I'll be returning calls and messages again. As much as I'd love to try and work through this, I know I'm going to be on some really good painkillers, and will probably not remember any conversation we had. Or, more likely, I'll hallucinate a conversation that we never had, and I'll be convinced - CONVINCED - that we talked about something. And if you come by, there's a really good chance I"ll put my head on your shoulder and say, "Mmmmmmcozy." Just ask Michael. I did it last week when she drove me home from a test I was drugged for, and she nearly ran off the road from shock when I did it. (I may be warm and fuzzy, but I'm not touchy feely.)

ANYway. I'm pretty excited about the whole thing. Nervous, of course. But strangely looking forward to it. And I will admit - after 8 years of responsible middle-aged mommyhood, I'm totally looking forward to that little bit of time where the painkillers are working their magic and I'm not in pain, but the world is swirling around me. (Okay, so it sounds really pathetic when I write it, but come on, I haven't had a really good buzz in nearly a decade!!)

I'll have my phone and will update the blog and facebook via twitter assuming I can text 2555555#4447777#9335555551 (go ahead, text those numbers, it's not THAT hard to figure out.) :)

Okay. Yeah, I'm procrastinating at this point. I need to finish a little work. I need to pack. I need to sleep. I need to hug my kids, but they aren't here (sleepover at Grammy's house). I need to snuggle with my Sweet Baboo for a little while tonight before I fall asleep. And then I need to get up and start my new life.