Did I?

Did I call someone to arrange a Saturday night out? No, I did not. I stayed in with a bottle of wine and a DVD. But somehow I didn't feel quite so lame as I did on Friday. I did make it a mission to arrange at least two outings this week though, before school starts again. And preferably 3 or even 4.  Ha, maybe not 4. Maybe that's a bit too much.

Anyway, I will go out at least once because I have quasi-arranged something with my quasi-roommate, who is finishing her semester at college on Monday. We'd already said that we'd go out for a meal sometime next week to catch up. We don't usually see one another because she lives in my guest cottage, which is a separate building in my garden, and we are both out of the house a lot, so we are usually like ships passing in the night. So there's that. And I will talk to some other people about arranging something.

I went to my last qi gong class today with my cute (but sadly, married) professor. I felt really good that I was the only person that has gone to all of the classes and I felt that he respected my commitment to the class. I have made a commitment to myself to practice what he taught us for at least 100 days in a row, as he says that's how long you should give it and when you really start seeing results. I am already seeing results though. For those that don't know, qi gong is a Chinese exercise practice. It is very slow and meditative - tai ji (tai chi) is a form of qi gong. Anyway, when we first started learning it, I didn't feel like it was doing anything for me. It is not strenuous, so you start wondering why you are doing it at all as it doesn't seem hard enough to be real exercise.  But now I find my body really starts relaxing and de-stressing by about half way through. I get very focussed.  It's pretty cool.

Then I spent some time doing some pand-emic fl'u preparations. Yes, I'm probably crazy. I hope we will not be getting into that. But hurricane season is about 6 weeks away (gack, so soon) so I need to stock up on non-perishable food items at some point anyway. I checked out the cupboards yesterday and realized that I could survive for a few months if I was shut up in the house avoiding germs on the amount of dried grains and legumes that I have, but that I would run out of vegetables, toilet paper and cat food pretty quickly. At the end, I could be living on dried mung beans, and amaranth (weird-tasting grain that I tried once and never had again), possibly flavored only with cinnamon or cumin. You know, the dregs of the store cupboard. Or I could be living on a steady diet of coconut, which is the only edible thing that grows in my yard. So I stocked up. I now have a nice assortment of cans (but only from one company - Eden Organics - that I recall doesn't use BPA in its can linings except I think for the tomatoes), frozen veggies, and even dried seaweed, dried vegetables and dried fruit. I have jars of sauerkraut, roasted peppers, olives, and tapenade. I have apple sauce. I have toilet tissue and hand sanitizer.

It makes me happy to have a well stocked house. I guess I'm just a survivalist homebody at heart. There are some things I forgot (cat food!) but plenty of time this week to get some. In-between the socializing, of course.

All the lonely people...

I realized yesterday just how very alone I am in the world. First there was my natural shyness/laziness. I am not gregarious enough to collect a large bunch of friends. I have been a hanger-on at various times to large bunches, but I was never the anchor of the group, always an outlier. I have never been brave enough to assume that other people don't already have fabulous plans and would actually welcome a call from me seeing if they want to go out, so I have never been one to call on the spur of the moment and arrange something. Then there was moving around - each time you move to a different city or country, you essentially throw away those friends and start from nothing again. Oh sure, you promise faithfully to keep up with certain people by phone and email, and you do for a time. But at some point it settles into occasionality.

Then there is my job, which has always had me working more hours than I would like. Friends started getting married and stopped going out with the single girls. Then came infertility. As I tried to do things like cutting down on drinking, it was hard to keep going out with the friends where drinking defined our relationship. If I had an IUI at 8am the next day and had to get up early, it became easier to say "no" to a social event. As the depression and bitterness grew, and the demands of treatment increased, I withdrew more into my shell. As I started coming out of my shell, I signed up for school almost immediately. So now there has been studying that needed to be done, nights at school, and other nights of just plain exhaustion. There has been very little socializing going on.

So here I am on spring break. I said to myself that this week I'd get out and about more. And I finished up work at 7.30 last night and suddenly realized that I'd quite like to go out, maybe have some wine, let my hair down. Except that all my work buddies had already left for the evening so I couldn't see if someone wanted to go to happy hour. Did I call anyone? No. I was too chicken. I might have gone to Barnes & Noble and mooched around, but I did that on Thursday night. I thought I might try the library, but it was closed. Going to the movies briefly crossed my mind, but I am not brave enough to do that on my own on a Friday night - a Tuesday, maybe, when it seems more socially acceptable to have no friends, but not a Friday. I thought again of calling someone and again felt like I'd just be intruding on whatever fun they were already having.

So I went home, lonely, berating myself for being pathetic. How did I let it get to this? It is truly lame of me. Of course, I am sure that I could have called a few people and found someone to go out with, but I have this ridiculous thought that I don't want to intrude. And they don't think of asking me any more, because they got so used to hearing "no" that they stopped asking. Sigh.

I must get up some courage tonight. I must DO something. With somebody, preferably.

Exhaling

I have time to breathe right now. Finals were last week, and I have two weeks off school. Unfortunately, I have some studying to do on break, but I think I will leave that until next week.

We also moved at work, so my whole department (much smaller than it was) is now together in one area. My boss has been constantly whining that the space is not as good for him, although I love it. I think it's much better for the rest of us even if it isn't entirely ideal for him.  I have a lovely, bright office with an awesome desk (sorry to get excited over a desk, but I've had crap ever since I have worked there, and FINALLY have some nice furniture). And I no longer look directly out at the parking garage - my office was so dark and hemmed in before.  It feels like the craziness is finally behind us, and we can get on with things. In fact, our big move in day, which was yesterday, was 3 months to the day from the announcement of the craziness beginning.  I think that's more than enough time to waste.

Does this mean that I will go back to writing witty and insightful posts? Well, probably not. I don't have much to say on the whole conception business these days. I was brought back to it a little by filing my taxes - mostly annoyance at just how much money I forked over, but it dissipated once I'd finished with the form.

But there you are, that's what's up with me. I'm still marveling at having ta-tas. Still waiting for Buddha to find me a boyfriend, though I am planning to get out and about more during spring break so I can perhaps meet more people.  Still barren. Still the same old same old. But now with a few extra hours a day. Temporarily.

Boobage

Can we talk boobs?

So, you know how you always hear that statistic that something like 80% of women are in the wrong sized bras? Yeah, I heard that, and scoffed. Not me! Not me, I thought, smugly. I don't have quadra-boob. I have the size correct.

And yet, I was reading a NY Times article on Sunday about bra sizes, and something finally clicked. What it said was that as you go down a strap size, the cup size width gets smaller. So as bands are so stretchy these days, a woman wearing a 36A might equally fit a 34B or a 32C.

Huh. Thought I. I have been wearing a 36A for years. I knew as I gained weight over the last few years that the band size was wrong, but honestly, you try looking for 38A's. They're pretty near impossible to find. I figured that was just my curse - to gain in back fat but not boobage. So I just let them stretch out a bit, and that was that. I figured I had the wide but flat boob thing going on. As I've been losing weight, I've moved from the outermost hook to either the innermost hook on the really stretched out older bras or the middle hook on the not-so-stretched ones. I thought, hey, maybe I could possibly go to a 34B and start feeling like I actually have some boobs. Maybe this will help my self-confidence in the dating area.

Now, I must say here that there were a few other things percolating in my head. For a start, the other size A's that I know are a lot smaller than me. A lot. I knew that, and yet it didn't register. Second, I have always found underwired bras to be excruciatingly uncomfortable. I mean, like torture. Especially at the sides. I couldn't understand how the rest of you could wear the darn things. And yet it still didn't click.

You know what's coming, right? I got home, looked up bra sizing on the internet, got out my measuring tape, and I took a good hard look at myself in my bra. Not only have I been in the wrong sized bra, I have been in the spectacularly wrong sized bra. In fact, I told this story to two friends at work who both burst out laughing at the suggestion that I could have ever thought I was an A cup. There was some ridicule going on for a while there at the disconnect between my supposedly-intelligent brain and how utterly utterly idiotic I was being. I don't know how I didn't see it, but I guess I was blind. I guess I thought you should jut out more to the front or something. Maybe I would if I was actually in the correct damn bra.

I shouldn't be a 36A. Or even a 36B. Or yet a 36C. According to my measurements* I should be in either (my band size was in the middle of two, so I need to try some on)....a 36D or 38C. Bwahahaha. No wonder the underwired bras were torture!

Oh my god. Why didn't I see it until I really looked? My poor boobs were squashed out into my underarms, I had the shoulder straps so loose so that the cups could basically just hang down underneath and not give me any actual support. When I pull the shoulder straps tighter and pull the boobs in from my armpits, you bet I have quadra-boob. My boobs are falling over the top of my bra so much it is ridiculous. It was actually hard to get dressed this morning once I realized the extent of the problem and I was fishing around for bras that weren't too bad.

I have been blind. And an idiot. I am going for a bra fitting as soon as I can!

*Update #1: Ever one to take the bull by the horns, I went at lunchtime to VS. Once I realized the extent of the problem, I was just uncomfortable sitting here in my old bra! So, the girl that measured me decided I was a 38B or a 36C. I'd got the size difference wrong between the two measurements so I was a cup size too high. I tried both sizes on in a variety of styles, and the 36C was the winner. I bought two. Hey, even the underwired ones were comfortable. Who'd a thunk it?

Update #2: I have ta-tas! I have been parading around the house, marveling.  OK, so the bra that I got was a bit more padded than I usually buy, but that combined with pushing the girls out to the front, AND the mental aspect of thinking "holy hell, I am wearing a C" has made me feel like I've had a boob job. Without the downtime and expense of surgery. I mean, they're the same boobs. Bigger in the last few years due to weight gain and infertility treatments (I guess I can thank the hormones for something) but they're the same damn size as they were on Friday - I just think they're bigger now. And yet it's this whole weird mental thing going on. I was clearly in denial and had poor boob self-esteem going on. I mean, I used to look at catalog pages with things like swimsuits for C and D sized women and be all "how can they be C and D sized - they're the same size as me?" and it still didn't click. I wonder why I was in boob denial for so long.

Does it matter?

Does it matter if you make an offering to Buddha and your cat goes and sneakily laps up the water at random moments? Is it sacrilege?

And does it offend Buddha if you tell said cat that she's a bad girl and scold her for drinking Buddha's water? Especially if you may or may not have bopped her on the nose* right in front of Buddha's picture.

I think if I don't get a boyfriend out of this, I am going to blame the cat. Dagnabbit. And I was already planning the wedding. Oh well, maybe Buddha will forgive us if we're lucky.

*not hard, of course.

I made an offering to Buddha

Well, so, I think I have finally given up ALL thoughts of trying to conceive as an SMC. If I go forward with this motherhood lark on my own, it'll be through adoption. And it won't be until AFTER I graduate.

But, it doesn't stop me being wistful, I admit. And as I am getting healthy I keep wondering if I wouldn't be capable of conceiving if I was able to devote month after month to doing it the old fashioned way. I mean, I really feel that the information I am learning now, along with the healthy eating (most of the time) and the acupuncture treatments, mean that I am getting healthier than I've been in a long time. I wonder if something has changed inside me enough to allow this to work? Also, I do wonder if I had a low libido for a long time. I mean, I wanted a boyfriend/husband. In an abstract sort of a way. But it wasn't a need. I've always enjoyed sex, and have had relationships where I had a higher libido than my boyfriend of the time. But when I'm single it's not like I have to immediately find someone so I can have sex again. But then, time has dragged on. And on. And freakin' on. And I think part of getting healthy again is that I really really want to have some good sex - which makes me think that something was perhaps not working right that I was fairly content to live without it for so long. I mean, obviously, there was a battery operated friend or two involved, but you know, it's not the same.

So. Did I mention the psychic/astrologer consultation I had a while ago? I forget what I talk about these days. One of my classmates is Asian and has a family astrologer (who turns out to be psychic as well) and she offered to set a couple of us up with phone appointments if we wanted them. For the princely sum of $30. For an hour. I mean - who wouldn't? $30 is nothing in the grand scheme of things. So I did it, and among other things, this guy mentioned that I'd have one marriage chance between the ages of 40 and 45, and that to help my love life I should make an offering to Buddha (I should add that he checked first if I was a Christian - I'm sure he wouldn't have said to offer to Buddha if I wasn't already more aligned with Buddhism than anything else). He said I should offer an orchid, 5 apples and 5 cups of water. And I never did anything.

Last week I was talking with another student, who said she was supposed to make an offering to Buddha too, except she has to offer 9 fruits (any fruits, not just apples but they all have to be the same), 9 flowers (any flowers, not just orchids, but again, all the same type), and 9 cups of water. Hmmm. Interesting how it is different from mine. But it reminded me that I hadn't made my offering. I'd also read my horoscope online lately, which said that the full moon on April 9th was an excellent influence on romance for me. So I decided to combine the two, and make my offering at the full moon.

I should say, that I've no idea how to make an offering to Buddha. But that's never stopped me before. So I set up a little altar, and I put a little statue of Buddha on it that I already had, along with a picture of a Buddha statue that I have. I added Kuan Yin and Jizo as well, just for luck. And some incense, and my orchid and apples that I bought on the way home from school, and water. And I asked Buddha to help me find a nice boyfriend for some good sex, companionship, interesting conversation, a long term relationship - maybe a marriage, and to conceive a baby with if that was at all possible. I have set the intention out there and sent it to the universe. Oh, and I asked Buddha to forgive me if I did the offering wrong!

We shall see.