What if No One's Watching?

#1: My fat feet

I went to the doctor this morning, to inquire about the fact that my feet and lower legs have been swollen and painful for the last two weeks. It started when I had to spend two days in airports and on planes, which is understandable, but it hasn't gotten much better since then, so I got concerned and went in.

She said I need to lose some weight and build up my calf muscles.

After a very well-reasoned discussion of why it's unlikely that I have heart failure, or hypothyroid, or diabetes, or any of the other things this could be a sign off, she gently told me that I am carrying extra weight on not-that-well developed musculature, and that given those things, it's not that surprising that this happened and that I wasn't able to spring back from it as quickly as I might have otherwise. So the prescription is to build up my leg muscles and lose some pounds (I'm down 6 lbs from my high point already, but haven't lost anything in the past couple of weeks).

Gee, that felt good. Nothing like expecting to be sick and turning out to be just fat. I know I should be thankful--after all, this is much better than a chronic illness, and it is something that I should be able to deal with without drugs or anything, but damn, it's hard not to wish I could just take a pill.

#2: Vegetarianism

Several weeks ago, it occurred to me that given all the ranting I'd been doing about what amazing creatures dogs are, my meat-eating was out of hand in its hypocrisy. Sure, I didn't ever eat dog, but I ate pig, and pigs are just as great as dogs. And what makes cows, or chickens, or even shellfish any less special? So I took the plunge and went vegetarian. This isn't the first (or second, or third) time I've done this, but it is the time with the best articulated and most morality-based reason. So...yeah. I guess I'm a vegetarian now. So far it's actually been more difficult than I expected--not in the craving meat way (I don't crave it at all), but in the wanting to eat things that happen to have meat in them way. Maybe I'll learn to cook. Probably not, though.

#3: Sewing

I grew up with a very concrete idea of what I was good at and what I wasn't, what I could do and what I couldn't. There were things that were not appropriate for me because I Didn't Have the Patience, or things that I shouldn't do because I Didn't Have the Coordination. I was Not Artistic, Not Musical, Not Athletic. Whether this was my fault or a product of my environment or what I don't know and wouldn't venture to guess, but it led to me being very uneasy with and unwilling to move outside of my comfort zone (a zone which mainly consisted of me going to school and reading books and mouthing off). I know there is a notation on one of my elementary school report cards that says something like, "Gracie is easily frustrated with things that do not come naturally to her." No fucking kidding. And it's gotten worse more than better as I've gotten older.

However, as I've gotten older I've realized that being able to move outside of one's comfort zone and try new things, even things you might not be good at, is a really important skill to have. So I've started to make the effort. My success has been mixed. I still can't do calculus, and honestly I haven't made a good faith effort to change that, either. On the other hand, I took a pottery course I absolutely loved, after I got through the first couple of classes feeling stupid, and even though I never got very good at it, it was fun and I learned a lot (more about myself than about throwing pots).

My newest endeavor is learning to sew. This one has particular resonance with me, as it's something I grew up around and never learned. My mom sewed all the time when I was a kid, and I know she tried to teach me at least once, but it was a disaster ending up with a butt-ugly pink shirt that I didn't end up doing any of myself. In the past few years, however, I've really wished I could sew, both to do stuff for the house (curtains, pillow covers, etc.) and with the eventual dream of making some of my own clothes (that will actually fit me). So I bit the bullet a few weeks ago and signed up for a sewing class. Last night was the first class.

So far we haven't done enough for me to really fuck anything up, although my lines aren't as straight as I'd like them to be in cutting out the fabric, and I my inability to properly pin a pattern is probably record-book worthy. I learned how to thread the machine and fill the bobbin, pin and cut a pattern, etc. Next week we'll get to the actual sewing. The first two classes are focused on making a pillow, the next two are for an elastic or drawstring waist skirt, then pajama pants, then a pajama top. I'm still a bit trepidatious, but I'm excited.

And of course I'm chomping at the freaking bit to buy a sewing machine now...