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Home from the 2 day whirlwind visit to Powell River. Enjoyed seeing everyone and getting to hang with Riley on his 1st birthday...pretty cute. 

Maggie and I went hard the night before making pirate/boat cake pops and all sorts of treats - labor intensive and delicious = cake pops. haha

Went and had a nice visit with Mike as well...very weird being in that house with Deanna gone. It looks exactly the same. Her things still everywhere. Cannot imagine what it is like for him day in and day out. The one year anniversary of her death approaches...not easy for him, her folks, her daughter, sister or niece. A gift I gave her 13 years ago has made it's way back to me...my brother had a Lilith Fair poster signed by Sarah McLachlan that I brought home with me after his passing in Oct 2000...I had Uncle Jim frame it pretty and gave it to her for xmas that year. She loved Sarah McLachlan and was very fond of my brother so it seemed a fitting gift for such a great friend. Very bitter sweet getting it back...Mike really wanted me to take something of hers with me - as you can imagine it is a bit awkward, not wanting to rifle through someones things but this was something he was insistent about...and a piece of her Cranberry Pottery...really nice of him honestly, all awkwardness aside...I will display both and find them heartwarming to see each day.

A's travel drama as blown over - hoping that is the end of that business. They visited waterfalls and elephants today...sounds like a lovely place (Koh Samui) with lots to do. Weird that her birthday was almost over where she was by the time it was her birthday here...

I have settled down a bit...going to PR was a good distraction though...there is nothing louder than the roar of silence that rushes your ears when you walk into your house and your only child has vacated the nest. I find that to be really strange and I am not sure I will get used to that.

I now have zero fingernails...sigh...

Great road trip with Sarah to PR...have told her that anytime she is going to please contact me if she wants a travel buddy...much easier getting to and from in a car. Maggie's new place is quite nice...lovely view and good location. Glad to have finally seen it. Did not have time for a fancy bath in the tub but next time for sure!

Back to work tomorrow...should be a nice little nightmare of ppl frantic for lickitysplit service b/c they are in a mad rush.

Today I think I will tidy up, make a stew to eat all week...yeah.

90's Chick Tunes

Tonight is 90's chick tunes night. Sarah McLachlan...Tara McLean...Crash Vegas...Natalie Merchant...Sinead O'Connor. Sarah McLachlan almost got booted off the list for making those hideous SPCA TV commercials...JFC Sarah. I cannot change the channel fast enough when those come on...

I am still the fattest person that goes to the Y...I would love to see someone even near as fat as me there once...just so I could throw a knowing glance of solidarity their way. I do get why it is not generally somewhere most fat ppl want to be - shit if you had asked me a year ago if I would ever join the YMCA I would have laughed in your face and then slapped you for implying I needed to work out. haha I wish there was a fat ppl only gym...seriously. I would join. I would miss all the hot looking MFers at the Y of course but it would be a sacrifice I would be willing to make. Some of those men at the Y are so good looking I feel like a damn pedophile b/c they are generally far younger than me...if there are men my age at the gym I could not tell you b/c that is NOT who I look at or notice...ever. They are as invisible to me as I am to everyone there...it is a nice arrangement. I do get some 'stranger support' in the change room sometimes...I think some of the women get that joining a gym at my age and physical condition is a big deal...so they like to ask how it is going and pep talk me which I find terrible awkward but I understand that it is intended as support...and really as long as they are not standing in front of me completely naked, drying their crotch with a towel while pep talking me I can live with it.

Guess what I learned this week? That Pecorino Toscano is fancy cheese made out of sheep milk (barf). I had to Google it when I saw it on my grocery receipt for 18 bucks...and a 3 dollar eggplant. 1) I do not like fancy cheese especially 18.00 cheese 2) I hate eggplant. A refund is imminent.

I just read through all of Deanna's letters tonight....funniest lady ever...she had such a terrific sense of humor...always cracked me up. She drew a picture of me getting a pap test ffs...if that is not entertaining I do not know what is.

Deanna @ 14....awwww xo

On Nights Like Tonight...

I am awake after already going to bed b/c I got to thinking about how many ppl would be directly affected by my death. Lovely morbid bedtime thoughts, I know. Having lost 2 friends/peers my age this year it is hard to not 'go there' from time to time, pondering ones existence, especially b/c these 2 ppl in particular were very lovely ppl...their deaths affected many...Barb had a very active online life and also b/c she lived in many foreign/exotic places in her life she knew A LOT of people...the tributes to her on Facebook were awe inspiring...it all makes sense why I was so drawn to her - she clearly had that effect on many people. I hardly had the opportunity to get to know her before she fell ill and I cannot help but feel regret and the sting of that loss. Deanna was a friend for a long time and I knew her extremely well on many levels...the last 5 years she drifted into another phase in her life that I was not really party to but the bones of our friendship were still there b/c when we did see each other she shared with me things she didn't share elsewhere...I consider that an honor.

People love to tell me things...that their husbands are secretly gay, that motherhood was not a passion for them but an obligation, that they are closet alcoholics,extramarital affairs they are having...I am not sure what it is about me that ppl feel compelled to share such intimate details about their lives but when I do die a lot of secrets are dieing with me I can tell you that.

Interestingly...I rarely tell ppl anything about myself. I have a stealth talent of not really answering questions about myself and diverting conversation when I do not feel "share-y". It isn't that they aren't worth of knowing things - sometimes I just cannot stand to hear myself talk about the shit that goes on in my head 24/7. Maybe that is why I am such an information sponge...soaking up other ppls details and stories to distract me from my own brain stew...then there are these times when the moon and stars all align perfectly and I will tell something about myself in such a raw and exposed way that I don't think they even "get" it most of the time...my flippant nature makes these gory Jen jewels of inner secrecy seem like casual conversation...

Last week was extremely difficult at work. Coming back from vacation is like no other earthly torture...the workload is ridiculous so it was 5 straight days of not even having time to pee at work. I do not deal with stress well...I get pretty jacked up and easily agitated and am usually one added stress away from snapping and getting fired or tossed in jail. If they ever make brain scanners that show the homicidal thoughts ppl have in their heads...I am screwed. I suspect a lot of ppl will be in the same sinking boat as I would be in...we would all be fighting for the oars to bludgeon each other with.

Lots of purging going on here this week...A. got herself a TV and new bedroom furniture from Ikea...out with the old and in with the new...it is cute to see her so impressed with herself - basking in the newness of her possessions, mocking me for having old things that do not match...I just made 2 rather large purchases for myself recently...a new desk chair (200.00) and a new satchel (160.00) - unheard of purchases from Madam CheapAss over here...I really need a new desk chair...Aunty Pam's is good but it doesn't match my ass somehow so I do not last sitting very long...Plus A. will inherit it and it matches her room...and I have been looking for the right leather satchel for a while...and finally just said screw it and picked one since the ones that I loved the most at Sears (Fossil) were way over budget...another 1st world problem.

As I was typing about my yummy new bag the cat jumped on the table (::shakes fist::) and clawed at my bag...WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?! Little a-hole.

Fack.

Ever since my beloved Deanna died last month of a heart attack, I constantly think I am having a heart attack...seriously...if it can happen to her it surely can happen to me - esp b/c I am genetically predisposed and have a few risk factors...the fact of the matter is I deserve one. It is unfortunate that it took until my 40's to realize through the haze of my generalized/consistent depression that I  pretty much fucked myself. Every hour I spend on the treadmill these days I cannot help but see the simplicity of it all. I hate exercise...truly loathe it...but an hour of it is nothing. Yeah it wrecks my hair and yeah it makes me hot and sweaty...but if I had "gotten it" 20 yrs ago I wouldn't find myself in the state of obese life betrayal that I am in now. I can assure you 20 yrs ago had I had any real incentive or idea about what I should be doing to take care of myself it would not be so hard in my 40's It astounds me how this managed to escape me...I am not stupid...though I certainly feel so at the moment - especially wandering around a gym full of ppl who CLEARLY "got it" long before I did or were somehow programmed to just know it.

I am excessively happy that A. is programmed...like she had a choice really...between watching me waddle through life and me making a concentrated effort to ensure she "got it" early on (to avoid my current state) - she's got it...she does yoga, she runs, danced, sports, she lives life....it is surely my grandest accomplishment...raising a fearless go-getter from the comfort and safety of my couch/desk chair...it is like some sort of miracle really...

Back to my treadmill musings while sweat dribbles down my face and I watch fit people doing what I am doing with little to no effort as I die...watching that clock on the treadmill becomes my life for an hour....at 6:50 mins in - I am calculating the time left before the agony is complete...53:10...I am getting better at math as well as sweating my balls off. Even while hating every minute...every step that my foot is on fire and being crushed there is a voice in my head - ragging at me that if I had started this 20 yrs ago I would be a different person, likely a happier person, would have been a better mother and would not be limping around like a stereotypical fat lady with a fucked up foot. Oh hindsight you cruel mistress of regret...fuck you. All I can do now is go forward...I mean - I am not dead yet...I haven't had my leg amputated...I am not in a wheelchair...and I have no control over dropping dead of a heart attack at this point so...just keep going...

Like Deanna wasn't...I am not done yet...I still have some shit to do...stuff to see...things to see through...so...even though it is easier to crawl into bed and sleep and over-contemplate everything I will go get some sun today, go see some good people with positivity to offer and get out of my head b/c if one thing has become very clear to me...I cannot be trusted in my head.