January is cooking along

Lots of stuff going on. I’m pleased to say we now have a staircase at the cabin - the new contractor I found in a desert group has (I think?) worked out great. I’ll withhold judgment until I see it in person, but we left keys out there and he worked on it the last couple of days, finishing up yesterday. He’s the first contractor who didn’t ask for a deposit and said we could pay half until we inspected it for ourselves. 

No more climbing a metal ladder up to the bedrooms. I’m going to see if he can start an overhang for us next week. It would be great to have a place to be outside in the shade. Last weekend I was enjoying a hammock until it started raining - it would be nice to be able to enjoy the outdoors even in a light rain. It’s kind of hilarious that we’re doing all these non-essential projects and we don’t even have a shower or sink yet. I guess that just shows where our priorities are. 

I’m hustling to get my website updated before the “hard opening” on Thursday. The frustrating part is I have the information, I just don’t have the technical savvy now that Wordpress changed their whole system and doing simple things like embedding photos has become stupidly complicated. I plan on spending this afternoon wrestling with it. I’m determined to finish today.

I also have been tirelessly trying to track down contact info for all the kids’ friends to invite them to their joint trampoline park party on March 17. I have to find this info for kids from both the old and new schools. Apparently no contact sheet was put together for Theo’s 4th grade class - so we may be relegated to completely unreliable paper invites handed out at school again. Honestly, it’s not the end of the world this time - the party is already way too big with Bobby’s friends that I know will all show, so if Theo just has a few kids from his old school, he’ll be happy with that. With Bobby turning 13 next year and starting junior high, I figure this may be the last kiddie party he’ll be interested in having, so I’m trying to embrace the chaos and enjoy the end of this era. 

Speaking of new schools, we find out in March if Bobby got into the gifted program at the jr/sr high. With all his points, I can’t imagine he won’t, but I need to be prepared that it might randomly be a year with tons of kids applying and he just won’t make the cut. It’s going to be such a big change for us this summer. Not just a whole new school but a whole new way of being at school - having to move to different classrooms each period, kids in different schools for the first time since 2018…it’s going to be wild. 

For me, I’m counting down to my band’s Germany trip a week from Wednesday. I’m worried about several things on this trip, not the least of which is leaving Bobby’s 6th grade class trip in the hands of the H while I’m on another continent. There’s so much I need to have in place before I go, between the kids, my event, taxes, and my podcast. Just crossing fingers I can keep it all together. 

Long weekend

I had a long weekend - that wasn’t meant to be. There’s a local dance camp similar to mine that my orchestra plays every year - I typically sing on Friday and Saturday nights and don’t really attend or think about it otherwise. But for some reason this year I really decided to lean in, and had lunches and dinners with visiting dancers all weekend, and went to dance Sunday night just for my own enjoyment as well, which is something I almost never do. But because I had so many friends there I knew I’d have a lot of dances and a good time, and I did. It meant staying out until at least 2 AM every night, so I am officially bushed. I’m kind of not sorry today’s podcast interview got canceled due to the interviewee getting covid - I can use the downtime.

I’m so glad I invested in a couple of new heavy winter coats for the boys - usually in LA you can get away with just light hoodies all winter - but the last few winters have been exceptionally cold; when I drop the kids in the morning and they have to hang around the schoolyard for 15-20 minutes, it’s anywhere from 38-45 degrees; even the warmest daytime temperatures never breach 65. I know this is laughable to non-Californians, but when you have no warm clothes and live in an un-insulated house, you’re just cold all the time. I even bought the boys thermal underwear. This has been all of January so far with no signs of relenting. I hate it. 

I had a bit of an identity crisis over the weekend - part of it was, singing with the orchestra is stressful because I only do it a couple of times a year so I don’t know the songs very well, and because I gained so much weight over the holidays, once again, none of my clothes fit. I had bought a gown mostly in my size for the occasion, but it was in terrible shape, so even after repairing it extensively, when I put it on for the gig, yet another seam split spectacularly and I had to sew it up while on my body as I was walking out the door, and I left a sea of jettisoned sequins everywhere I went. I doubt I’ll be able to wear it again, but that and an unflattering blue dress were literally the only ones in my closet that currently fit, so I had no choice. It never helps, on these gigs, when all the photographers insist on taking these incredibly unflattering low-angle shots of me on stage, which do everything to emphasize my double chin and pot belly with cavernous belly button indentation. Ugh, ugh, ugh. I got a cold sore from the stress of it all. 

Thankfully lots of good conversation and connecting with people I hadn’t seen in a while helped quell my anxiety about my body and my aging and my painful arthritic toe and all the other unpleasantness going on for me physically. I had a really swell time Sunday night and it was the first time I got a window into the fun most people are having at my own event, which for me is just a giant stress ball. 

I embarked on an experiment last week that so far isn’t going great but I’m going to give it this week before I make a determination. I discovered that psyllium husk, a natural fiber supplement, can help aid in weight loss in that it helps you to feel full, so that it’s somewhat touted as the poor man’s Ozempic. I bought some and started taking small doses which I’ve ramped up to full doses over a few days to see if it cuts my constant hunger cravings. The only danger in it - and it’s a big one - is it could cause intestinal blockage if you don’t take enough water with it. That scares the hell out of me. I’ve never had issues with being “regular” so I don’t really need the fiber. So far I’ve seen no effects negative or positive, which is about what I expected. But my eating/sleeping schedule has been so off for the last four days that I want to wait until things are normal again before I decide if it’s working or not. My diet attempts so far for the last three weeks have failed miserably, and yet I’ve been constantly hungry and miserable. I keep thinking there’s got to be some magic bullet out there that will finally keep me at a healthy weight for the rest of my life, but I’m just not finding it. Honestly the 5:2 diet was the most effective thing I’ve ever done, and lasted a long time. When the pandemic started and I was on the 5:2, I was at 140, and stayed there for at least a year and a half before I stopped. I would kill to be even close to that weight again. Maybe I should just do that. I don’t know. At the moment, feeling very discouraged.

Fears and loathings

I don’t think I’m alone in having a lot of dread about this upcoming year. It’s an election year, and the odds of Trump being elected are higher now than ever, thanks to anger at Biden over his response to the Hamas attacks and a blatant unwillingness to recognize all the good he’s done. Memories are short - it’s now been eight long years since 2016 - and I can see especially young people forgetting that their staying home or protest vote for a 3rd party will, in fact, elect Trump, and end democracy as we know it. I can’t live through another Trump presidency. I can’t. Suddenly California seceding doesn’t sound so terrible. As I was saying to a friend yesterday, there’s no guarantee that the United States will last forever, not in its current form. We like to think it’s immutable and eternal, but it’s not. Look at Europe. Sliced and diced a million different ways, especially in the last 70 years. We’re not used to that sort of transitory existence, but we may have to get used to it. Either way, I’m full of anxiety about what’s going to happen this fall.

We had a pretty sizable earthquake Friday morning, which was listed as a “pre-shock” and warnings of the high likelihood of a major quake in the next 72 hours. I was horrified. It doesn’t help that in just about a week we’ll hit the 30th anniversary of the Northridge quake, which for me was massive and life changing. I haven’t slept well since Friday, and plans to leave the kids home alone briefly have been scrapped (they’ll go to the H’s work and I’ll pick them up later). It’s hard not to think of how awful everything will be if there’s a quake large enough to render this house unlivable - I have state-sponsored earthquake insurance, but the deductible is high, and our whole lives would be upended for a year or more, and what would we do with all our stuff if the house wasn’t securable? What about the kids’ school? What about the hotel where I hold my event - what if something happens to that? It’s all too horrible to even think about. And yet, while not being probable, it is, in fact, possible. I just can’t.

So I think it’s fair to say I’m not entering this year with a lot of optimism or enthusiasm, but I’m entering it anyway because I have no choice. Kids return to school tomorrow, and in two months we’ll know if Bobby got into the gifted program at his school or choice, and if Theo got into the gifted program at his current school. I’ve got lots of podcast interviews lined up - there’s been some unexpected momentum lately - and am considering getting a new computer to facilitate this activity. I submitted all the grant audit paperwork on Friday, so now we wait. I’ve started the reams of tax work that will take up the next two months, and am moving forward with my event planning finally. I hope to have everything settled by the time I do the price increase on Feb 1. There’s a lot to do coming up. Maybe this will keep me from my doomsday fears for a while.

2024, here we go

It’s the final week of winter break. I have to say, with kids old enough to entertain themselves all day, these long breaks aren’t what they used to be - I used to stare down these lengthy non-school periods with sheer terror; however now, other than becoming a full time cook and house cleaner and having no alone time, they’re not so bad. Being able to malinger in bed well past 9 AM pretty much makes up for the unpleasant parts.

So here’s the truth about my Christmas travels. Everything went well. We did Christmas on the 23rd, presents were received well (H got me a band t shirt, compass, pocket knife, and fancy hair dryer, all of which were great), then headed to Florida on Christmas Eve. We arrived late that night, then did a four hour drive north to my cousin’s new place in Saint Augustine on Christmas Day. Here was the biggest gathering of remaining family in quite some time - both cousins, kids, and step aunt - and it was lovely and full of warm moments. We all watched Spinal Tap that night and had a blast. Then we spent the remaining week at my sister’s place until Jan 1 when we flew home.

Here’s the thing, though - I felt lousy for most of it. Again I don’t know if it’s my age, weight, menopause, or what, but I was exhausted, bloated, and out of sorts the whole time. Up until the end I barely slept, my whole body was puffy and uncomfortable, and I just felt like a giant beached whale the whole time. It didn’t help that the weather was cold and rainy and grey, so activities were limited. We finally got one chilly beach day in on our final day, but mostly we sat around and tried to figure out what to make for dinner. Meal planning and cleanup was a constant annoyance, as it had to happen three times a day, for six people. Boy, did I not understand the burden on my grandmother on all those long family visits! No wonder she savagely crunched popcorn every night in front of the TV (after lighting up a Virginia Slim was no longer allowed by her doctor).

So basically, nothing (other than the weather) was wrong, I just felt wrong. And most of this was, of course, my disgust with myself for how much weight I’ve gained and how much work it’s going to take to get it off. Every bite of food was fraught with guilt and shame, even though for the most part I wasn’t stuffing myself or particularly overeating. I hate that I’m in this endless loop of feeling bad about my body - it goes against everything I stand for - but there it is. How can you not feel bad when for forty years you were effortlessly thin and then suddenly balloon up to an unhealthy weight and then spend years losing and regaining the same ten pounds, while all the while slowly gaining twenty pounds in the process so your starting point gets higher and higher and getting to any kind of healthy weight gets more and more difficult? And staying there sucks, because the fact is, to be thin in your 50s means being hungry, and being hungry sucks? Anyway. I could go on and on. At one point at 2 AM I panic signed up for some Facebook-promoted weight loss program for $70 and then immediately regretted it - it’s just a meal plan full of food I don’t want to make and the same calorie restriction I could just do on my own. I know how to lose weight. And I must, because I’m officially getting unhealthy. But boy do I hate it. I’m not motivated, but I know I have to reduce calories and get up and get moving, for myself mentally if not physically. I’m sick of good times being ruined because I feel lousy and tired and bloated and none of my clothes fit. There’s an easy solution to this, I just have to do it. Diet started yesterday. 

I came home to a dead car battery and I can’t even get into the car to pop the hood to get jumped because my lock is broken from an attempted break in, so this morning the H will try to pry it open with a screwdriver to jump it, and if he can’t, I have to have it towed to the dealer to have them switch out the lock. So that’s potentially my day shot. Still looming over me is the fact that the deadline for uploading the grant paperwork is Saturday. I got it all put together before I left, but wanted to save it for uploading later in case I wanted to make any changes or missed something. The amount of terror over this grant audit has been a huge cloud over my head for the last month - pretty much ruined my Christmas season because of the stress - so I’m looking forward to getting that done. Once the car’s fixed. Sigh. 

Break!

We had a pleasant weekend in the desert, the first of the kind I’d been dreaming of since I bought the place, in which we just had to pack some clothes and a cooler and head out - rather than having to bring half the house every time. We didn’t do much - met with a new contractor to see about a porch and a staircase, ate a lot of expensive restaurant food, and were generally foggy and dehydrated. 

The new contractor that I found in a local group was a funny guy - Ken doll handsome and with adhd characteristics; talked our ears off for two hours while I kept trying to loop him back to taking actual measurements and talking about materials. He had a good idea for the staircase - right now we’re still using a ladder to climb up to the top floor. His idea was to have stairs going sideways along the back wall which is way better than just building a sturdier ladder. The H didn’t like him, but seems ok with continuing - we should get a bid shortly. As always I don’t know what to think of this guy, but I do know we don’t really have a choice and it would be nice to get these final projects finished even though I technically can’t afford it. Also as always he pointed out all the things the previous contractors did wrong. They love doing that. Sigh. 

One good discovery is that the insulation is doing a bang up job - even with the temps dropping to the low 40s at night, we never needed the heater. The upstairs stayed toasty from the all day radiant heat from the sun, and good bedding meant we were never cold. I know it can get a bit colder out there - it was high 60s during the day and 40s at night and I know it can be 50s in the day and 30s at night, but at least most of the time it won’t get that cold, and we probably only have three more winter visits at most before the glorious spring comes again. 

It’s Monday of the first week off school and I’m a bit panicked about everything that has to happen this week - mainly the grant paperwork - but I keep telling myself it’ll all get done. I have to do two podcast interviews and edit those and tee them up for release while I’m gone; wrap all the presents (when kids go to bed); make candy; prepare for our trip (laundry, packing, use up food, etc); get my hair done; find something for us to do all day on Thursday while the cleaning lady is here and it’s raining all day; get groceries; go to the bank to deposit cash from our last band gig; make breakfast, lunch and dinner each day and clean up after; and, of course, grant paperwork. Why am I blogging right now instead of starting? Procrastination - but I’m going to blame it on the fact that the H is monopolizing the bathroom so I can’t get up and start my day. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. 

Final week of school

Two more days of school and then I (we) get to sleep in for three weeks (mostly). I’m inordinately excited about this. I know Bobby, my fellow night owl, feels the same.

We’re lagging on Christmas presents this year. Bobby has made an expansive list, which is very helpful, but Theo has no idea what he wants, and we have no idea, either. We did trade their untouched Nintendo switch for a second used VR headset, but we need to supplement with other small things and we’re at a loss. Bobby asked for sunglasses and a drink cooler and I figured both boys could use those things so I ordered them for both, and I also got some books and impulse bought a Lego chess set. But time is running out - we leave for Florida a week from Sunday so our Christmas will have to be Saturday, and all of these things have to be bought, shipped, and wrapped. I also haven’t even begun the candy making I normally do at this time - mostly because there’s no rush, I don’t need to give any out until next week, and next week is pretty empty while this week is pretty full. It’ll all fall into place I’m sure, but right now it’s still up in the air.

This week I’m just allowing myself to enjoy my last moments of solitude before the three week onslaught of family time, which for much of it involves cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner for at least three people every day, which I despise doing. My whole life becomes food prep and kitchen cleaning and it sucks up pretty much all of my time. Not to mention having to monitor kids actually changing their underwear and brushing their teeth and the constant, pulsating guilt of knowing the kids are on screens too much and I really should be arranging fun and enriching activities for us but I just don’t have it in me to be fun coordinator anymore after twelve years of parenting. Don’t get me wrong - I’m actually looking forward to the school break. But I am experiencing a certain amount of existential dread regarding what I’m actually going to do with these kids all day every day.

I had a big nothing of a corporate gig last night that paid ridiculously well, then tonight is the real marathon in that we have to drive to San Diego and back. I probably won’t be home before 3 AM, which is scary. I promised myself last time we did this gig that we should stay at a hotel rather than try to drive home - but here we are. The H will take the kids to school in the morning. And I’ll probably need all day to recover. The good news is, it’s (almost) the last of the gauntlet of Christmas gigs (one more easy and fun one next Friday). 

Looming ever above my head is my grant review which I have not tackled other than reaching out to my accountant for help. He wrote up a chart of accounts for me - that’s one thing done - but someone else in his office has to do a year’s worth of bank reconciliation, and I haven’t heard from that person. I also have a ton of work to do myself, but I’ve been forcing myself to wait until next week so I don’t rush it and can take the time to focus. I’m so terrified of this whole process - I know they’re going to demand some money back, but how much is the question, and when, and will this ruin my life or not. It’s so scary I just have to put it out of my mind every time I think about it. There’s no way out but through, so next week I just have to be a big brave girl and sit down and tackle it piece by piece until it’s done. I desperately want to get this handled before I leave, but the accounting stuff unfortunately I don’t have a lot of control over.

Period showed up three weeks late all nonchalant like the brunch guest as the check arrives, with a Starbucks in one hand and phone in the other, not understanding why everyone’s annoyed. I wouldn’t mind if it was consistently late - fewer periods is of course better - but I’ve entered the age of inconsistency; for all I know I’ll get another one in two weeks, then another a month after that, and another six weeks after that. Sigh. 

Decorated

We did the Christmas decorating this weekend, and I don’t know if it’s age finally catching up with both of us, post-two time covid infection exhaustion or menopause for me, but it knocked both of us out and I hate to admit it but I didn’t enjoy it at all. I just wanted to be done, but between the tree buying and decorating, light hanging and living room decorating, it pretty much took the entire day, and halfway through I was officially done. I did, however, enjoy that the kids seemed to get a kick out of looking at our old familiar ornaments and hanging them, and that was delightful. I do have some Christmas-loving kids, and I’m here for it. The H badly injured his knee putting lights on the house and has been stressed out and limping around all week, worrying about work and not letting it heal. 

I had an odd weekend of emotional upsets that I’m still not recovered from. Sunday I had a very stressful gig in which we played for a fellow dancer’s memorial service, and there were several people there that I can’t stand who normally I can avoid, but, you know, funerals, where everyone comes out whether you want to see them or not. I just hid backstage when I wasn’t singing, so I couldn’t socialize or really be present, and I felt guilty about that, but I also knew the people I didn’t want to deal with would 100% approach me if I made myself available (one finally just barged backstage “to say hello”). So it was basically four hours of torture. Then - and this sounds petty, but hear me out - the goth festival I’ve been waiting to hear an announcement for suddenly put up next year’s lineup, and…apparently it’s now a lame 80s Top 40 festival, because that’s where the money is. I was, and am, absolutely gutted. I feel like I was enjoying a seance in a cemetery and then some cheerleaders showed up. I posted my dismay on the festival’s group (I wasn’t alone in this), got relentlessly attacked and laughed at until I had to block some guy and leave, and then spent the rest of the night trying to calm the adrenaline surging through my body. Once again, the jocks and cheerleaders ruin everything. 

I also am starting to feel like, as much as I’m enjoying the work and feel like I’m doing something important, doing this podcast is kind of fucking with my mental health. It’s digging up a lot of ugly memories and making me feel like a broken person, which I’m not. I think I’m going to just do a couple more interviews this month - one today, one in a couple of weeks - and give myself a break for the holidays. I need to get some distance from it. Then regroup in January and start up again until I’ve made my way through all the people that wanted to talk to me, which could only be a few more at this point. But since I can schedule episodes for whenever, I definitely have enough to fill up December. Then I may find I’m done with the whole project. We’ll see. 

My period is now nearly three weeks late. I’ve been through this before during this year, but I don’t think I’ve ever gone quite this long. I feel the same sense of uncertainty that I had as a young girl, waiting for it to appear - when will I get it? What if I never get it? What if it stains my clothes and everyone laughs at me (I saw Carrie too many times)? Now I have similar but opppsite questions - when will I get it? What if I never get it again? What if it stains my clothes and everyone laughs at me? I always secretly hope my period will just stop appearing and I won’t have any other symptoms - a friend had this experience - but considering how much my mother suffered and how my sister dealt with hot flashes for years, this scenario is fairly unlikely. So for now I just play the waiting game. My prediction is I will get it sometime in the next couple of weeks, and I’ll continue to have irregular periods for a few more months or a year still. We shall see. Other than rapidly gaining weight and a fair amount of bloating and cramping, I feel fine. Exhausted all the time, but fine. Welcome to life in your 50s.