Four months into my weight loss regime, I figured it might be good to say a word or two about my adventures in shedding pounds.
After C* moved out of the house and I started having serious money issues that could have resulted in me having to pull Elliot out of daycare and quit my job, I went through a period of nightly crying that seemed more important than eating at the time. During this time, I lost quite a bit of weight, but it didn't stay off for long.
After my financial situation improved, I started eating again. And eating, and eating and eating. Mountains of fish and chips every night, mass quantities of jellybeans and cakes. Chinese, burgers. Any food that was as bad for my heart as it was for my waistline and you can bet I was eating it - and not in moderation.
It didn't help that I got two care packages of junk food from the United States that I ate as if it were some kind of eating competition and Big Al was hot on my tail to finish the last Cheez It in record time. Those care packages didn't even last a month, but, even after they were well and truly gone, I was still eating.
I look back and see that this eating was some kind of medication for my loneliness. On most days, the only adult contact I had was with my bosses and coworkers. The few friends I have are married with families and always so busy, busy, busy. I rarely see them, so, night after night, it's just me and the TV after Elliot goes to bed. It was comfort for me, I suppose, to at least have that food there with me. And it tasted damn good, too.
But I couldn't let it go on forever.
When I couldn't squeeze into my size 16 work trousers anymore (American 12), I decided to change my lifestyle and my habits and stop feeling sorry for myself and wallowing in my misery by wallowing in lard. After all, I'm much happier out of my marriage than I was in it, and I have a beautiful daughter of whom I am really proud. The rest can be worked on, right?
TO BE CONTINUED
maarmie's musings
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
HM
I met HM on the same dating website on which I met CF. He's from Holland and lives a couple hours' drive north of here in the middle of nowhere managing a failing bespoke furniture company and rooming with his ex-girlfriend of 17 years, the only girlfriend he's ever had.
I wasn't physically attracted to him in the slightest, but I liked the company and he wasn't bad to talk to. A bit too on the spiritual side for me, though, he believed he could feel the energy of the trees and on and on and on. When we would get together, he always wanted to get out of Inverness and into the countryside - which would've been nice except I was quite a bit overweight and always tired on my days off from Elliot. The biggest thing we had in common was our love of food, and we would get massive orders of takeaway pizza, fish and chips, Chinese or burgers for dinner whenever he'd come to Inverness.
The best things about him were that he was very tall (at least 6'5") and that he never wanted to live with a girlfriend again. Ever. Weekends were enough for him in the future, he said, and I couldn't have agreed more. Though it seemed we had a lot of things in common, I just didn't feel anything for him and I seriously couldn't get over his Schwarzenegger-ish voice and my total lack of physical attraction.
We kissed once, though he always tried for more, and, in the end, I stressed "just friends" which didn't stop him from trying. I didn't want to deal with the constant pressure tactics, so I told him I didn't want to keep in touch.
No more dating for me just now.
I wasn't physically attracted to him in the slightest, but I liked the company and he wasn't bad to talk to. A bit too on the spiritual side for me, though, he believed he could feel the energy of the trees and on and on and on. When we would get together, he always wanted to get out of Inverness and into the countryside - which would've been nice except I was quite a bit overweight and always tired on my days off from Elliot. The biggest thing we had in common was our love of food, and we would get massive orders of takeaway pizza, fish and chips, Chinese or burgers for dinner whenever he'd come to Inverness.
The best things about him were that he was very tall (at least 6'5") and that he never wanted to live with a girlfriend again. Ever. Weekends were enough for him in the future, he said, and I couldn't have agreed more. Though it seemed we had a lot of things in common, I just didn't feel anything for him and I seriously couldn't get over his Schwarzenegger-ish voice and my total lack of physical attraction.
We kissed once, though he always tried for more, and, in the end, I stressed "just friends" which didn't stop him from trying. I didn't want to deal with the constant pressure tactics, so I told him I didn't want to keep in touch.
No more dating for me just now.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
CF
What can I say about CF except that I want my time back? All of it.
It started off well enough: an interesting profile and long e-mails that were thoughtfully and intelligently written - everything spelled correctly, excellent grammar.
Then we talked on the phone.
And talked. And talked. And talked. About four or five hours at a time. We clicked. It was good! But he wasn't asking to meet me in person, even after weeks of long talks. So I asked to meet him, and we set a day.
A few days before we met, he went on a date with another girl from the same dating website. He acted like he might or might not go to this informal pub meeting with her and her friends. But I could tell. He was going.
We talked two days later. I didn't ask for any details, but he was pretty forthcoming. Two nights before we were to meet, though, he came clean. He had spent the night at her house that night. He liked her, and he wanted to see her again.
Instant change of expectpectations completed, and I decided to meet him anyway. After so many hours on the phone, I thought it would be silly not to. He showed up that night and was cuter than his profile pic and polite enough, but, beyond that, there was nothing there. I'm guessing he wasn't into me or was too into that other girl because he didn't really seem like he wanted to be there, and there wasn't the same chemistry in person as there was on the phone. He didn't show much of a personality, just kind of sat there like a lump waiting to go home. And that's what he did.
The only time we talked on the phone after that night was when he unfriended me on Facebook after I got mad at him for friending a married friend of mine because he liked her boobs. I told him not to be creepy towards my friends, and we had an argument on the phone that ended badly.
Eventually, he friended me again (wow, aren't I lucky?) and he comments on my updates now and again. He's got a girlfriend he met on Facebook now who lives hundreds of miles away. They will get married one day. I'm quite certain of it.
Next: HM
Update: Two days after I wrote this post, CF got engaged to his girlfriend.
It started off well enough: an interesting profile and long e-mails that were thoughtfully and intelligently written - everything spelled correctly, excellent grammar.
Then we talked on the phone.
And talked. And talked. And talked. About four or five hours at a time. We clicked. It was good! But he wasn't asking to meet me in person, even after weeks of long talks. So I asked to meet him, and we set a day.
A few days before we met, he went on a date with another girl from the same dating website. He acted like he might or might not go to this informal pub meeting with her and her friends. But I could tell. He was going.
We talked two days later. I didn't ask for any details, but he was pretty forthcoming. Two nights before we were to meet, though, he came clean. He had spent the night at her house that night. He liked her, and he wanted to see her again.
Instant change of expectpectations completed, and I decided to meet him anyway. After so many hours on the phone, I thought it would be silly not to. He showed up that night and was cuter than his profile pic and polite enough, but, beyond that, there was nothing there. I'm guessing he wasn't into me or was too into that other girl because he didn't really seem like he wanted to be there, and there wasn't the same chemistry in person as there was on the phone. He didn't show much of a personality, just kind of sat there like a lump waiting to go home. And that's what he did.
The only time we talked on the phone after that night was when he unfriended me on Facebook after I got mad at him for friending a married friend of mine because he liked her boobs. I told him not to be creepy towards my friends, and we had an argument on the phone that ended badly.
Eventually, he friended me again (wow, aren't I lucky?) and he comments on my updates now and again. He's got a girlfriend he met on Facebook now who lives hundreds of miles away. They will get married one day. I'm quite certain of it.
Next: HM
Update: Two days after I wrote this post, CF got engaged to his girlfriend.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
DW
I met DW at a party at my friends' house. We spoke only brief introductions before more people arrived, but I thought he was cute and I wanted to talk to him more. Unfortunately, his boss cornered him before I had a chance to get back around and talked shop with him the rest of the time he was there. When I looked for him again, he was gone.
DW turned out to be one of my friend's colleagues, and we hatched a plan to invite him round for the new year celebration so we would have another chance to talk. My friend told me a bit about DW, though, and what I learned probably should have steered me clear to begin with. The stats:
39 years old
History professor
Ph.D.
Published author
(here's where it gets tricky)
Never had a girlfriend
Very close with his mother
When he couldn't make it for new year, friend gave DW my number. He phoned the next day, all excited to meet up. A week later, we met for coffee. He was full of odd questions and revelations, and you could tell he had not done the dating thing much. One of his first questions was to ask how I react when I am angry. Okaaaaaay. Weird. Then he went on to tell me he had not dated much and that he's a selfish asshole - his words.
Unfortunately, he was sometimes awkward, moody, touchy and strained. Even more unfortunately, I loved talking to him - when he wasn't being awkward, moody, touchy or strained. What an interesting person who is obviously well-read and is into great music and can talk about anything. I mean anything.
Such a shame.
Because
he
is
indeed
a
selfish
asshole.
Well, maybe not really. He just obviously was never that into me. Because at the end of the second meeting a week later, he declared that weekdays are out and that he could only meet on Saturdays and only for coffee and only for an hour. He said he had feelings for some girl who didn't even know he was alive and that he'd need to get over that before he could even think about anything - or anyone - else. Plus, he's just plain busy.
Since those two meetings in January, he has phoned me a few times. We had nice chats, a half-hour in length each. At the end of each chat, he would make vague noises about meeting for coffee on Saturday or soon. But it never happened. After all, he's a very important person with a very demanding job and gets interviews with the BBC when he gives a lecture and all. And when he's not going to see this friend in a play or going to visit that person in London, he is just so enmeshed in his teaching and his planning and his researching and his writing that he simply can't be expected to remember that poor, old me even exists.
So. To recap. Met in January. Went out for two coffees in January. A few phone calls in February and March. A couple of texts in March. Have not heard from him at all in at least two months.
My exciting love life.
Next: CF
DW turned out to be one of my friend's colleagues, and we hatched a plan to invite him round for the new year celebration so we would have another chance to talk. My friend told me a bit about DW, though, and what I learned probably should have steered me clear to begin with. The stats:
39 years old
History professor
Ph.D.
Published author
(here's where it gets tricky)
Never had a girlfriend
Very close with his mother
When he couldn't make it for new year, friend gave DW my number. He phoned the next day, all excited to meet up. A week later, we met for coffee. He was full of odd questions and revelations, and you could tell he had not done the dating thing much. One of his first questions was to ask how I react when I am angry. Okaaaaaay. Weird. Then he went on to tell me he had not dated much and that he's a selfish asshole - his words.
Unfortunately, he was sometimes awkward, moody, touchy and strained. Even more unfortunately, I loved talking to him - when he wasn't being awkward, moody, touchy or strained. What an interesting person who is obviously well-read and is into great music and can talk about anything. I mean anything.
Such a shame.
Because
he
is
indeed
a
selfish
asshole.
Well, maybe not really. He just obviously was never that into me. Because at the end of the second meeting a week later, he declared that weekdays are out and that he could only meet on Saturdays and only for coffee and only for an hour. He said he had feelings for some girl who didn't even know he was alive and that he'd need to get over that before he could even think about anything - or anyone - else. Plus, he's just plain busy.
Since those two meetings in January, he has phoned me a few times. We had nice chats, a half-hour in length each. At the end of each chat, he would make vague noises about meeting for coffee on Saturday or soon. But it never happened. After all, he's a very important person with a very demanding job and gets interviews with the BBC when he gives a lecture and all. And when he's not going to see this friend in a play or going to visit that person in London, he is just so enmeshed in his teaching and his planning and his researching and his writing that he simply can't be expected to remember that poor, old me even exists.
So. To recap. Met in January. Went out for two coffees in January. A few phone calls in February and March. A couple of texts in March. Have not heard from him at all in at least two months.
My exciting love life.
Next: CF
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
I should write the fucking sequel
I’ve amassed a fair amount of information on this side of the Atlantic now, and I think it’s fair to conclude that, on two continents…and counting, it seems he’s just never going to be that into me.
It’s been exactly one year and one month since C* moved out of the house and exactly one month since I have been legally allowed to file for a divorce in Scotland, and I have recently found myself getting kinda lonely. In my recent quest for some fresh male companionship, I created a profile on plentyoffish.com and have been proactive, as they say, in finding male friendships in other ways.
When you jump in the ocean headfirst, you take the risk of landing on a big pile of jagged rocks, but I don’t really know how to do things any other way and have never been one to sit on the sidelines waiting for something to come along. Perhaps if I did, I would have longer-lasting success. In any event, either I am doing something horribly wrong or three out of four guys are so repulsed by me that they can’t even bring themselves to have an ongoing conversation with me or to, gasp!, hang out. No pressure. No drama.
In an attempt to unburden my burdened psyche, I will be spilling the beans on my unfruitful adventures. I want feedback.
It’s been exactly one year and one month since C* moved out of the house and exactly one month since I have been legally allowed to file for a divorce in Scotland, and I have recently found myself getting kinda lonely. In my recent quest for some fresh male companionship, I created a profile on plentyoffish.com and have been proactive, as they say, in finding male friendships in other ways.
When you jump in the ocean headfirst, you take the risk of landing on a big pile of jagged rocks, but I don’t really know how to do things any other way and have never been one to sit on the sidelines waiting for something to come along. Perhaps if I did, I would have longer-lasting success. In any event, either I am doing something horribly wrong or three out of four guys are so repulsed by me that they can’t even bring themselves to have an ongoing conversation with me or to, gasp!, hang out. No pressure. No drama.
In an attempt to unburden my burdened psyche, I will be spilling the beans on my unfruitful adventures. I want feedback.
Tuesday, February 08, 2011
Missing mojo
I came on here looking for photos of myself to steal for the dating web sites I recently joined and, instead, found 300-odd spam comments to delete. I swear, you don't come on here in forever and this is what you get! Oh, and when you have an anonymous blog, you're not going to find many photos of yourself, are you? Not really interested in putting the pregnancy/birth photos of myself on a dating site, either. Might scare a few guys off.
Dating web site, you say, maarmie? Are you sure that's wise? I mean, you DID meet your husband on the Internets, and you don't want to go down that road again, do you?
NO!
Not looking for marriage, folks, and not really into committed relationships, either. I'm basically looking to make male friends for some fun and/or flirting. This (single) mommy needs to get out of the house more when baby's away. I've been chatting with a few nice fellows for the past week or so. We shall see. We shall see.
Elliot's third birthday comes on Friday. She's at daddy's house for her birthday this year. This makes me very happy as I am not interested in throwing her a birthday party this year. For the last two years, I have hosted parties, and, while it was nice celebrating her birthday with our closest friends here, it was a lot of effort that I don't feel like expending this year.
Since she can't yet read, I guess it's safe to talk about her gifts. This year, I got her a bicycle
complete with basket for the front and sparkly things you attach to the spokes - and a Playmobil family camper as well as a couple of DVDs. Seems pretty over the top as far as birthdays go - especially considering that, for my 10th birthday, my dad got me a 10-speed bicycle and I had to pay for half of it myself! But I tend to spoil her with gifts. Trying to make up for giving her a broken family and all.
I was reading back over old posts today, and I realized how much I miss writing. More frustrating than my lack of a creative outlet is that when I HAVE written lately, I feel like that spark, that thing that made my writing once interesting, has dulled or has been extinguished altogether.
I know writing is something that needs to be constantly practiced or else the shiny edges tarnish. Can I get it back? What is missing from my life that helped feed my talent?
My writing seemed so monochromatic with all my talk of Elliot, Elliot, Elliot. I always feel, lately, like my life is just so uninteresting.
Dating web site, you say, maarmie? Are you sure that's wise? I mean, you DID meet your husband on the Internets, and you don't want to go down that road again, do you?
NO!
Not looking for marriage, folks, and not really into committed relationships, either. I'm basically looking to make male friends for some fun and/or flirting. This (single) mommy needs to get out of the house more when baby's away. I've been chatting with a few nice fellows for the past week or so. We shall see. We shall see.
Elliot's third birthday comes on Friday. She's at daddy's house for her birthday this year. This makes me very happy as I am not interested in throwing her a birthday party this year. For the last two years, I have hosted parties, and, while it was nice celebrating her birthday with our closest friends here, it was a lot of effort that I don't feel like expending this year.
Since she can't yet read, I guess it's safe to talk about her gifts. This year, I got her a bicycle
complete with basket for the front and sparkly things you attach to the spokes - and a Playmobil family camper as well as a couple of DVDs. Seems pretty over the top as far as birthdays go - especially considering that, for my 10th birthday, my dad got me a 10-speed bicycle and I had to pay for half of it myself! But I tend to spoil her with gifts. Trying to make up for giving her a broken family and all.
I was reading back over old posts today, and I realized how much I miss writing. More frustrating than my lack of a creative outlet is that when I HAVE written lately, I feel like that spark, that thing that made my writing once interesting, has dulled or has been extinguished altogether.
I know writing is something that needs to be constantly practiced or else the shiny edges tarnish. Can I get it back? What is missing from my life that helped feed my talent?
My writing seemed so monochromatic with all my talk of Elliot, Elliot, Elliot. I always feel, lately, like my life is just so uninteresting.
Clever girl
After watching a DVD of PJ Harvey in concert:
Elliot: Mummy, I like PJ Harvey. She's a clever girl!
Elliot: Mummy, I like PJ Harvey. She's a clever girl!
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