The first party I went to last week happened on a Tuesday, in a pub. It was nice to see some people I hadn’t seen in a while, meet new people. I’m getting better at being friendlier and not isolating so much, though it’s not always so comfortable. I still get annoyed when social activities interfere with my gym, though I dispel this when it occurs. I get enough exercise, and I often have to remind myself of that. Over and over. This is what retraining the brain seems to consist of, managing mind tricks and games and other stuff to unfuck ones thinking, not as fun as playing with food, exercise. I don’t know if everyone who lost a bunch of weight, or had a less than stellar childhood, or healed themselves from ED has to do this. I think many people do this to some extent at some point in their lives, many so they don’t pass on neurosis to their children, some just to have a chance at a fulfilling, content life, whatever. I’ve got my work cut out for me in this dept, I know, and that’s all I’m saying about my last post. No comment.
Anyway, back to the party. I invited a friend (the one who had WLS) to another party a few days later, but she couldn’t go. Sitting down, later, I mentioned to a good friend of hers who I’ve known for a long time that I invited her, and he said she has four dates this week. Making up for lost time – decades of being fat. He explains to me how not only don’t people not date fat women, they are ignored, people try to not look them in the eye at parties, they get the worst seats in restaurants, etc. The irony of having life as a fat woman explained to me by a skinny man is not lost on me, but no more so than the smoky room us two ex-smokers are sitting in. She is very thin now, scares me. Even more so, as she has mentioned that her toenails are glued together, as they crack from lack of calcium. Absorption problems. She, like me, is not used to the kind of attention that she is getting from men. We talk about dating stuff a bunch, not so much about our pasts. I feed her as much as she’ll eat whenever she comes over, she’s kinda lazy about eating, especially plants.
The Thursday party was fun. Private beach, no dogs. No road. There was a road once, washed out about 5 years ago. It was usable as a flat path for a few more years, then that slid too. Now 200 steps are the only way in/out. There are about 10 houses there, and everyone there, from very small children and senior citizens, to extremely pregnant women, walks those 200 steps to leave, enter. Garbage, compost, recycling are carried out. At least they have running water. In however many years, the rest of the cliff, and the houses, will go to the ocean. But for now, it’s a great place for a bonfire, party! I dislike bonfire smoke more than I dislike cigarette smoke, but still like beach fires. I wish people would avoid the wood treated with creosote, arsenic, hexavalent chromium! Especially those who are purists in eating, think nothing of breathing that crap! Yuck.