Spring break on The Big Island

Last night we returned from our spring break Big Island trip, mostly funded by Marriott points (free stay in Kona) and airline miles (got us one way for free). 

Going into the trip, I had only planned one thing - a late night manta ray swim, which I’ve done twice before, but is so special and rare that I really wanted the kids to experience it. One thing I forgot about Hawaii - which I always forget - is that going into it with no plans is a very bad idea. So we had a couple of lost days that just weren’t thought out very well and resulted in lots of sitting in the hotel room on devices. But then again, at those times we were all exhausted and needed the downtime, so I’m not sure if it could have or should have been any different. 

We flew in on Monday, and arrived early enough that we had a whole day to kill with no actual plans, so pretty much just wandered around and got dinner. 

Tuesday I wanted us to have a solid beach day, so we went to Hāpuna beach and boogie boarded, which was fantastic. The only drawback is there was nowhere to rent an umbrella or chairs, and with no shade anywhere, we couldn’t stay as long as I would have liked. So by about noon we were ready to go, and I had nothing planned for the rest of the day except dinner and a farmer’s market in Waimea. 

So we went to several places to try to get shave ice and they were all closed, then went to the farmer’s market which was tiny and only had a smattering of vegetables and no fruit; it was far too early to try to stay around for dinner, so we just drove home in defeat and doom scrolled until it was time for dinner. I did find us a really pleasant Oceanside place to eat so hopefully that redeemed the day.

Wednesday the H had talked me into booking a snorkeling tour at Captain Cook - I had done this before and remembered it was a great snorkeling spot, and although I was reluctant to spend another $500, I figured I should go for it, based on how poorly my lack of planning had turned out so far.

Much to my chagrin, despite having snorkeled plenty of times before, Theo suddenly developed a fear of the fish and wanted out, so he sat on the boat most of the time. And Bobby said he was cold and didn’t want to do it, either. So that was a big waste of time and money.

Once again we had nothing planned for the afternoon and were too drained from the snorkeling debacle to be motivated to go on yet another excursion, so we hung around the hotel room and doom scrolled until it was time to set off on the manta ray tour. I was terrified the boys would not want to do it, would freak out and want to get back on the boat, etc etc…if Theo couldn’t handle a few small fish 20 feet away from him, how the hell was he going to react to a 15 foot long manta ray *literally* bumping into him in the ocean in the middle of the night?? We had a talk with them both, and I guess a little guilt went a long way - they both enjoyed it and said how cool it was, thank god. 

The next day, the H had booked a surfing lesson for the boys. I was highly skeptical. I figured Bobby might be up for it, but I didn’t picture Theo, still little at just eleven, being able to hold his own on a surfboard in open water. These kids can swim, but they have almost no experience being in deep ocean water where they can’t touch the bottom. It’s way different doggy paddling around your tiny, shallow pool than swimming in the ocean. So I did not feel good about it at all, and my fears were soon realized. The young guy doing the “lesson” paid zero attention to them - he had his back to Theo almost the whole time, and never seemed to notice that Theo was off on his own, unable to keep up. Bobby finally had to go over and sit by him on his board because it was clear Theo was struggling. At one point he fell off the board and could barely get back on, and I was absolutely horrified. I really thought my worst fear - that one of my kids would drown on vacation - was about to come true, right in front of my eyes, while I watched helplessly from the shore. I couldn’t have been more relieved when somehow the instructor saw him and came over to tow him back to shore while the others continued. There were almost no surfable waves, so Bobby pretty much just sat on the board or paddled around for the entire 1 1/2 hours. Good times!! Glad I didn’t pay for that shit. 

I had rented snorkel equipment in the hopes of snorkeling at that beach, but it was overcast and windy and cold, so I returned it unused, and once again we went back to the hotel room for more doomscrolling. We did get in a nice date night that night, now possible by being able to leave kids in the hotel room unattended. 

Our final day, Friday, was packed full of adventures, thankfully. It was my fourth trip to the Big Island and yet I had never been to the fabled green sand beach, largely because it’s so remote and difficult to fit into an itinerary. But we went, and endured a bumpy, crazy ride in the back of a pickup truck, and it was fabulous, definitely my favorite thing we did. We only had 45 minutes there or I would have gotten in the water, which the boys did. I would definitely go again, except I would hike it and plan to spend the entire day, bringing a lunch and a change of clothes. 

We had wanted to hit up Punalu’u, the black sand beach with turtles we visited last time, but ran out of time and skipped it to go straight to Volcano National Park, which was closed on our last visit. It was moderately interesting, but not great - apparently a lot of the cool features were gone since the H was a kid (a visitor center with a Geiger counter constantly going off, the ability to walk down into the crater, etc). A lot had changed since the eruption that affected our 2018 trip. So we saw some cool steam vents, looked at the crater, and went in a lava tube before the sun set and it was time to go home.

We returned yesterday night, an uneventful trip home, thankfully. Planes didn’t crash, tattoo didn’t get infected, nobody burned except Bobby’s legs and arms on the first day despite my hyper vigilance with sun screen. A good time was had.

But I think it’s safe to say that, as with all things right now, the cloud of what’s happening in our country overshadowed everything with a sense of doom. Everyone said, “just unplug, don’t pay any attention to this stuff when you’re gone”, but that was totally impossible, and also, to me, morally questionable. You can’t unplug right now - none of us have that privilege. So I followed the drama of the senator visiting Garcia in El Salvador, and the 1 AM Supreme Court ruling against further deportations, and the protests yesterday that, so far, have not caused a declaration of martial law today as everyone had feared. The whole time I couldn’t help but wonder when - or if! - we’d be able to have a Hawaiian vacation like this again, even with free flights & lodging. I wondered whether I should cancel our cruise in June. I wondered, and wonder, again, just how bad the financial pain is going to be for me this year - is it going to be a total wipeout, like 2001, back when I was single and childless and my expenses were 1/10th of what they are now…? I’m terrified. A bunch of Koreans canceled during the week, with thousands in contest fees going with them. I didn’t even have enough money in my stripe account to fund the refunds and so had to set up a wire to pay them. I’ve never had to do that before. How bad is this going to get?? I feel like all of us, whether we know it or not, are looking over a cliff right now. We’re still standing on the edge of the cliff, but in a month or two we’ll be plummeting down. The real effects of all this financial ineptitude won’t be felt for a few more weeks, but when it does - look out. And again I have to ask myself…how bad will it be for me this year? How many hundreds of people will I lose? I won’t know for weeks, as now until about mid-July are always dead for signups anyway. The uncertainty and fear are killing me. It’s really, really hard to exist under these conditions. 

Body things

So in the middle of tariff insanity and rollercoaster stock markets, I decided to get another tattoo with the rest of my rapidly diminishing money. It was a nine hour extravaganza on Monday with the same female artist who did my other tattoo. As last time, the planning and designing took about six hours, with a dinner break, and then an hour of outlining and an hour of color. I can say this - unlike last time, this time HURT LIKE FUCKING HELL. Like, unbearable, labor-like hell. Why? In looking at tattoo pain charts, there’s no reason this part of my arm should have been so much worse than the other part of my arm (like really, completely night and day). I was gripping the seat and clenching every part of my body and groaning in misery. I’m very tempted to make this the last tattoo. I know I wanted a New York one, but oh my god. If anything, I would not do both outlining and color in the same session. It’s just too much. I was shaking uncontrollably and then pretty much limp by the end of it. Nope. Not doing that again. 

So what we did was combine elements of the first tattoo - traditional style elements - to make it look like they were intentionally grouped together rather than done years apart with no planning. It’s a bit of a bold move for me, since the idea behind the first tattoo was to hide it under a short sleeve most of the time, whereas this one will be visible most of the time. In other words, it’s more of a commitment to outing myself as a somewhat alternative person. This was a conscious choice. I’ve decided I want to be the kind of woman who has visible tattoos. This is a big shift in my life-long unwillingness to visibly identify with any particular group so I can always blend in unnoticed. Perhaps it’s just so true that as you get older you stop caring about that stuff and just want to do what you want to do. “Why shouldn’t we decorate ourselves?”, my tattoo artist said on our first meeting. Why not, indeed?

So for the next few days I have to keep it under a tight Saran-wrap-type bandage, which unfortunately has been leaking for days, even after I continually expand its borders with extra pieces she gave me. I’m tempted to just rip the whole thing off now, but the last thing I need is an infection as I’m headed to Hawaii for a week (I’m already seriously questioning my judgment about doing it this close to this trip). So I’ll take it off Sunday night before we leave, which is already a day short. Can’t wait to be done with this healing part. Then I just have to keep a good barrier of approved lotion (which I kept from last time) and lots of sunscreen during the trip. Hopefully it’ll all turn out ok. 

In other news, yesterday, ten days into taking the terzepatide pills, I started to feel vaguely nauseated, and this has continued into today. So one would think if it was food poisoning or some kind of virus, I’d already be throwing up or be getting past it. Is it the pill finally kicking in, or just a coincidence? I’m still hungry at normal times, still thinking about food - which tells me it might just be a coincidence. But I’m not 100% sure how these GLP-1s work with regards to nausea and/or losing interest in food…does the nausea come first, then the food noise stops later, or does the food noise stop because you’re nauseated so nothing looks appealing? I kind of have felt like crap in general physically and emotionally the past couple of days, because a) my arm hurts, b) I’m PMSing and bloated and crampy, c) political stuff is getting me down and depressed, and d) I can’t exercise because of my arm. So any number of these things could be contributing to the general bad constitution I’m currently experiencing.

Tomorrow I go to a Bernie Sanders rally downtown, Sunday I go dancing and celebrate a 90 year birthday party, then Monday we leave for The Big Island. I think we were last there in 2017, 2018? The kids were so little then, they don’t even remember it. It’s going to be a very different experience going to Hawaii with a cell phone having teenager and his almost pubescent little brother. No car seats! 

Hands off

So the H had this idea to protest on Saturday as penguins. While I thought the idea was clever, I worried that it was making light of how dire things are, that it was just sort of silly, and I didn’t feel like being silly. But he reserved some rental costumes for us, which I had to go pick up, and he made penguin-related signs, and we packed up snacks and water and went downtown to protest with ? thousands of people (nobody knows for sure, and reports vary wildly. Suffice it to say it had more of the strength and size of the protests I remember from 2017). 

What ended up happening was this. While our costumes delighted everyone and brought some (probably) much-needed levity, it was also a huge drag for me. Mainly, rather than getting to participate fully in the protest, we became just props to be taken pictures with. It was hard to move, or sit down, or take the heads off, without people demanding we stand up and let them take a picture. This was fine initially - it’s not like we didn’t expect lots of attention - but it grew old, fast. Then there was the reality that I couldn’t see or hear anything inside that head, which made me massively anxious because I was hyper vigilant for violence or attacks, and not being able to see anyone around you or hear anything but your own breathing was really awful. I had worried about being too hot - I loaded us up with icy water in our camel backs under the costumes - but really that was the least of our problems. I felt completely removed from everything that was going on - I couldn’t connect with anyone, couldn’t see people’s faces or read any clues - and then (possible) right wing podcasters kept sticking microphones in our faces trying to interview us and ask “gotcha” questions (I refused to speak to anyone but the H tried to engage and just got flustered. I wonder what MAGA video he’s now featured on). 

I felt much better at the end of the march when I stripped everything off and went to walk around the crowd, grab some quick pictures of signs, and share smiles and thumbs up with like-minded people. A friend came with us who went in an inflatable triceratops costume; she said she liked being able to be distant from people inside a costume. I realized that I really don’t. I need to be able to connect with people. Maybe I’m less of an introvert than I thought.

So as much as it was an unpleasant experience, everything was fine - nothing bad happened, people loved our outfits, and the massive swell of resistance all around the world was really great to see, especially for someone like me who’s been at this for months. It was good to be there with the H finally. He agreed the costumes were worth doing but only once. 

I’ve had to tune out a lot of the backlash. I remember this from after the women’s march. When you get loud enough, suddenly everyone has an opinion about what you’re doing. My various desert FB groups have become completely overrun with MAGA idiots mocking and deriding us (that’s really the only online space I still share with Republicans at this point), and that’s to be expected - but of course as always the left has to devour itself, too, mostly on racial lines. Black folks in my feed pointing out how we’re all a bunch of privileged white people not having to worry about the cops coming for us (yes I’m aware of this fact, thank you), my Jewish friend immediately texting me how dismayed she was that I posted some pro-Palestine signs I’d seen, someone bemoaning the fact that most of the protesters are old people (true, but what can you do? It’s not their fault young people feel utterly hopeless), posts again beating the dead corpse of Biden/Harris and if only they hadn’t contributed to genocide, etc etc etc. Just a lot of negativity on a day when we ALL should have come together to fight this travesty of a fake regime, which is going to eventually fuck all of us up one way or another. Yet just like in November, so many preferred to just sit on their asses and tell us what they think about it when nobody asked their stupid opinion. Either be part of the solution or be part of the problem, people. 

A friend pointed out that I’ve become Reddit famous, ha ha. Here I am (everyone of course assumed I was a man):

Summer locked in

Today I brought a book and camping chair to go hang out at the rec center to get the kids signed up for camp. As soon as I dropped them at school I headed over - I was about 12th or so in line. At 8:15, I was 45 minutes before online sales opened and an hour 45 before the office opened for in-person sign ups. I was able to get Theo in on my phone, but there was no online sign up for CITs, so I had to wait until 10. 10:45, really, since it took forever for the people in front of me to get signed up and paid. But I got them both in for the final four weeks before school. Phew.

All the parents around me were having the same conversations - how impossible this system is, how crazy last year’s sign up day was, what life is like after the fires, how much we hate Trump and how much everything sucks. 

Yesterday was fucking brutal - between the orange turd intentionally tanking our economy and infuriating all our trading partners, to the sudden announcement that my rival (or sister, depending) dance competition on the east coast decided to cancel, I started really spiraling. This event canceled because they’re very dependent on international visitors and of course no one feels safe coming here right now (although they moved their event to be just a month before mine), but I also have insider knowledge that since an ownership handover last year their management has been a bit of a shit show and the new owner probably was looking for a convenient out (I had a similar situation when I had agreed to host the World Lindy Hop Championship in 2001 and was able to get out of it because of 9/11). So they are not in the same situation as me, but it did give me pause, plus flashbacks to 2020 of watching other events fold one by one. I’ve been worried all along that a bad economy could affect me - how could it not? - but now I’m really worried, like, crunching numbers and trying to figure out just how bad I could potentially eat it this year. I decided to cancel the remodel of my pool (desperately needed - after 21 years, the whole thing is crumbling) and just save that money I had put aside to potentially live on. 

It could be really, really bad. I could lose hundreds of people, and this, of all years, as I’m taking on $30,000 in extra expenses adding a day. How horrible. 

I don’t really see a scenario in which I don’t lose customers - it’s now just a question of how many. My room block is full, the contests are full, registration is about where it was this time last year. But all of that could easily change. People could start canceling. My international instructors could decide not to come and I’d have to replace them. Just like in 2020, everyone is just waiting and watching in terror - but if things don’t start to look less dire in a month or two (and I don’t see how this is possible) people are going to decide they just can’t afford a dance camp right now, no matter how fun it may be. 

And this is all assuming that things don’t go really apeshit in the next six months. Invasions, empty shelves, unemployment, riots in the streets…? I can’t help but feel like we’re careening towards an America we couldn’t possibly imagine right now, after decades of peace and prosperity; will we even recognize ourselves by summer…? Will I look back on this post and think, “wow, remember when I thought I’d even have an event??” I was just here five years ago. I still remember that tentative optimism. And the hideous realization that I couldn’t have been more wrong. 

Add to this the announcement today that a friend from the dance scene, who had been missing for a few weeks, was reported as deceased and believed to have died around January 20th. He was a troubled soul, although I liked him a great deal. No cause of death will be released for some time, but I’m going to guess suicide. I just saw him in December at one of our Christmas gigs. We’re all shattered by the news. A friend of mine and I were talking about how all this shit that’s happening is going to take down the most vulnerable people - people like him, who were always on the edge emotionally and financially. They’re just not going to survive this. Another friend posted that she’s in a desperate situation and is trying to sell things; I sent her $100 to her Venmo. Only the strong will make it through this - which is some eugenics / lord of the flies / survival of the fittest Nazi bullshit if I’ve ever heard it. 

We decided to stay in town this weekend - the H really needs to work, and I really want to go to the big downtown rally. Luckily he’ll come with me for the first time. It looks like there’s finally real momentum for these protests, and I’m here for it. Sad to miss possibly our last desert trip for months but also glad not to be missing this giant protest. 

I’m glad summer is locked in now, everything mostly paid for, plans made. I don’t know how successful some of these things will be - from the volunteering camp to sleepaway camp to the cruise to Bobby’s first stint at being a CIT (which he balked at, initially, when I brought it up again a couple of days ago - too bad, you’re doing it!) - but you have to try things. And I’m trying to prepare myself for a shitty turnout at my event but still hold my head high and do my best for the people who did pay the money and show up, and set myself up to just bloody well persevere like I have so many times before. It’s all about survival now.

Friend desert visits

I had a friend desert visit this last weekend that, despite the ongoing issue with my oil light popping on and off (I’ve taken the car in for this three times), went swimmingly. I did make the executive decision to keep us close to Joshua Tree on Saturday, which was teeming with people, rather than head up to Amboy where there’s no people and no service. I’m pretty sure it’s just a sensor issue, but it’s still pretty anxiety producing. Of all times, now is not a good time to ruin my engine and potentially have to get a new car.

It feels weird and guilt-inducing to try to have a normal life while all around us things are crumbling. A political pundit summed it up well recently when he said one minute you’re protesting, the next you’re buying new placemats…and it all seems so ridiculous. And yet everyone says you need to take breaks for your own sanity, and tune out so you don’t get overwhelmed; you have to balance your life otherwise you’ll spiral into inaction. Also, when you have kids, you have to keep up some semblance of normal life so they don’t just get scared and anxious. But you also have to stay engaged and keep fighting. There is a lot of conflicting messaging right now. It’s hard to know what’s the right thing to do. I made a tone deaf post on FB recently decrying the lack of basic decency in America right now - and unsurprisingly all my POC friends swooped in to tell me it’s always been this way and express their annoyance with me that I’m only now just noticing it, because of my white privilege. And I get that, but also, I’m not only just now seeing it, and the point I was trying to make was about how this cruel and sadistic regime enables people’s cruelty and racism in ways we haven’t seen (publicly) in decades; I don’t think that can be debated. But I can’t explain that, because it makes me sound defensive, and I can’t delete the post because it’s “dirty deleting”, so I have to just leave it up there for people to misread and continue to paint me as just another clueless white lady who thought we solved racism when Obama was elected. Sigh. This is where we are. And I hate it. From now on I’m going to more carefully vet my posts because this one was definitely a mistake and not at all the message I was trying to convey and not at all how I see things. Lesson learned.

In other news, I started the terzepatide pills yesterday. Just took pill #2. So I can say with some certitude that a) I am not allergic to it, and b) I’m not so sensitive to it that I instantly start projectile vomiting. I can already see a problem, though - since it’s a pill that you’re supposed to dissolve under your tongue and not chew or swallow, so far what I see happening is it pretty much just dissolves into your saliva and then you swallow it so you’re pretty much just swallowing the pill anyway. I’ve seen people complain about this online. So my prediction at this point is that these pills will be largely ineffective - I’m going to guess I’ll take these for a month with zero results, then switch to shots. Most people seem to go this route and notice an instant change. 

I have *some* of our summer figured out. I was able to get the kids registered for one week of a local inexpensive camp in June that focuses on volunteering efforts. It’s definitely an experiment; it was recommended to me but nobody had actually had their kids there. Still, it’s local, cheap, and just one week right after school ends. Then I booked a cruise that straddles two weeks in June and gets us back on July 1, so I can just not book any camps during that time since we’ll be gone too many days each week for camp to be worthwhile. So now I only have to find a camp for four weeks, and the one I have my sites on is the one they barely got into last year, which opens for registration on Thursday. I called and they have a CIT program for older kids that you just sign up for, no interview process. So I’ve got my fingers crossed that I will be able to get both kids in there. I suppose I’ll just go camp out on the sidewalk like I did last year. Stressful! 

We’re headed to the desert as a family next weekend, and it might be our last, sadly, as the only available weekend after that is Memorial Day, and odds are we’ll be playing Knott’s that night (also, it’s going to be wicked hot). I’d like to go the weekend after, too, to shut the place down for the summer, but again, wicked hot, and Knott’s. I’ll miss that place. I hope we can spend lots of time there in the fall.

Bobby is 13

I have a teenager. I HAVE A TEENAGER. What is happening. How can I have a teenager when I’m a teenager…?

Bobby turned thirteen yesterday. When I went into their room to sing “happy birthday” in the morning, the first thing he said was, “I shouldn’t have to go to school,” and I can’t argue that one. Unfortunately, since he’s thirteen on a Monday, he’s going to spend pretty much his remaining childhood birthdays in school. Booo.

In the evening we went to a fish taco place for dinner, then I gave him my old phone wrapped in a Trouble board game box, which didn’t fool him one bit. He said he knew he was getting a phone. Dammit. He was happy about it, though, and, bonus for me, I don’t have to hear him ask for a phone every day of my life anymore. So, there’s that. 

What is Bobby like, at thirteen? He’s a smart, quiet boy who talks with this distinctive lilt probably from his friend group which is almost entirely Latino and Asian (there’s a little Mexican-Spanish upturn in his speech, which I find charming). He’s polite and kind, but also very introverted and awkward (I can’t imagine who he gets that from). I would say he’s a bit mopey, but who isn’t right now? He’s entitled to a bit of dark introspection, in my opinion. At the moment he doesn’t show any interest in anything but video games, which pains me to no end, but so it is. I wanted him to have a normal childhood, and I guess that’s what a normal childhood is in 2025.

During dinner, the H randomly brought up a story about Amy Schumer having success with a new weight loss drug, which was the perfect opener to tell him I have, in fact, also signed up for said drug. I actually changed from semaglutide to terzepatide after freaking out a bit about potential nausea; I contacted the company about my fears and they switched me. The drugs are in the mail now, so I may start next week. The H was supportive, thankfully - he knows how closely I’ve been watching the development of these drugs over the years, and how I was waiting for shortages to end and a pill form to become widely available. So I figure one of three things are possible here - 1, they don’t work at all; 2, I become so horribly nauseated that I quit in disgust, or 3, they become a useful tool in finally reaching a healthy weight and maybe even staying there for a little while. I don’t have much to lose - 10 lbs would be amazing - so hopefully I can use it and then taper off fairly quickly. I really don’t know what to expect. But I’m just curious enough to at least try. 

Technology encroaches

One of the biggest parenting hurdles of our age is technology, and how to manage it for your children. Anyone with a kid right now knows this struggle, especially if you’re cough older and are baffled by technology in general. 

Since B started jr high last summer, the entreaties for a phone have been constant and irritating. The H and I have held out in the belief that phones are bad for kids, and people I respect say “hold out as long as you can”. And I stand by this - I have no regrets not giving Bobby a phone up until this point. But. He’s turning 13 on Monday. Literally everyone he knows has a phone. He’s still nursing his rickety kid’s watch from probably 4th grade (?). I had bought him a refurbished Apple Watch on prime day back in October with the intention of giving it to him on his birthday to at least step up to an actual phone at some point.

But. I went to set it up yesterday, and, surprise, it’s locked by the previous user. Took it to a TMobile store - they said there’s no way to get into the watch; I’d have to return it. Talked to Amazon - they won’t take it back because it’s been too long. Fair enough, although shitty because I spent $200 on something that legitimately can’t be used and never should have been sold, who cares if it’s been a few months?? Whatever. I contacted the business of origin, some family run electronics company in NY. I don’t have high hopes. Left a one star rating. Boy do I wish I’d opened it and tried all this back in October. 

But. On the way back from the store I called the H to discuss options, and thankfully he suggested I just give him my old phone, fuck it. What happened was he saw that all the kids at the birthday party last weekend had phones, and realized we were being unreasonable. I’m all about not being that parent that sets up non-sensical arbitrary rules just because. And the fact is, these kids have been terminally online for years (largely at the H’s insistence, as in getting them IPads and then VRs, which they’re on constantly). Bobby’s had a laptop for over a year now, and although I installed parental controls on it, to be honest I don’t have the slightest idea if they’re even set up properly or doing anything at all. Bobby has also had a very old phone of mine in his room that he’s been able to roam the web with freely for years (I gave it to him to listen to music, not realizing he could access the web with it). So…what’s the danger of having a phone, actually? That he can finally fit in with his friends? Text people outside of the family? Ugh, I give up. Just give the kid a phone already. I’ve been paying the extra line for months, and the phone is free.

As I set it up for him, I discovered there’s tons of restrictions I can put on it as his parent anyway, even shutting it down at night and restricting what kind of photos can be sent or received or what kind of websites can be accessed. And he’s going to be soooo happy. I’m excited to give it to him. 

I feel like he has the maturity to handle a phone (I would never give one to Theo right now) and is probably way more interested in his VR anyway. Also, the school has enlisted a total phone ban as of a week or two ago, so he can’t get in trouble at school with it. Now I just hope my crappy old phone holds up!

In other news, I’ve done something that’s either the smartest or stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I’m still questioning my sanity about it, so no judgment, please! I’ve signed up for semaglutide pills from an online pharmacy. Gasp!! Why? Well, I’ve been fascinated by these weight loss drugs for years - and was always very curious about them (since results are all over the place). I was waiting to see a) how safe & effective they were over time (it’s been years and we’re not seeing people drop dead or develop tumors!), b) if a pill form would appear, and c) if shortages would end, opening up the market for non-diabetics like me. All of these things have now happened. So I thought…why not? The food noise in my head causing me to compulsively eat when I’m not hungry is intense and never-ending. There aren’t enough hobbies or activities in the world to distract me enough from this. My pattern for years now is to diet for a couple of months, lose most of the weight I want to, and then slowly gain it all back. So every year I spend about two months at a healthy weight and then ten months 5-10 lbs overweight. I’m fucking over it. 

If I could predict the outcome of this experiment now, I think what’s most likely to happen is it will make me so horribly nauseated that I’ll quit within days and then spend weeks or months battling with this online company to cancel my subscription. I am terrified of the nausea. I would rather be fat than constantly nauseated, any time. However, I may not feel nauseated at all, it may just be temporary, or may be mild. Who knows? You don’t know until you try it. Also, it may just straight up not work. I have heard people claim that because they already eat when they’re not hungry, the drug making them not hungry doesn’t help. At all. So odds are this will be a spectacular, expensive failure, like the very expensive hair transplant I bought for the H as a wedding present that, in my opinion, did absolutely nothing. But. I’ve been obsessed with the idea of these drugs for years and I just want to try it out. I’m curious to see how, or if, my body responds to these GLP-1 inhibitors. And I do realize once you go off them that you gain all the weight back. But maybe, just maybe, I could lose enough weight and feel so fabulous that I’d be more motivated to keep up good habits…? It’s hard to stay motivated when you starve yourself for months at a time and lose some weight but are still ten pounds heavier than you were five years ago and still can’t fit in to half your closet. I don’t want to be super skinny, but I feel like being 135-140 pounds at 5’4” is a perfectly healthy weight. And it would take nearly a year of intense every day overeating to go from there back to the weight I am now. So, we shall see. I don’t know when I’m actually going to get these drugs - a couple of weeks? - and I want to be feeling good in Hawaii next month, so I probably won’t start for another month, so end of April. Maybe I’ll change my mind before then, or I’ll tell the H and he’ll talk me out of it. But boy does the prospect of possibly losing weight with some assistance, instead of raw dogging it like I do everything in life, sound appealing right now!