maarmie's musings

Thursday, October 20, 2011

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

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.

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.