Wednesday, October 3, 2007

People Walking Backwards

So on my walk today I passed by a group of women walking backwards. Was this some religious ritual? Were they atoning for sins and trying to erase the past? Or were they just nuts and this was some crazy new exercise fad? They were moving rather slowly so how many calories could they possibly burn? It is very odd not to think about that burning calories thing anymore. I believe right now I am living, in certain ways, like a monk. A monk...ess. (Oh, those poor monks in what used to be Burma. This fighting thing, this war thing is just so, so insane.)

Anyway, I eat like a monkess. I can't talk when I eat. I have to chew each bite a million times, even when it's peanut butter and I have to eat tiny, tiny bits. The other night I made myself and Will a delicious dinner of scallops, baked potato and asparagus. I had ONE scallop, an eighth of the potato and three pieces of asparagus. It was pathetic. But my stomach will grow, they tell me. And it had better be able to tolerate alcohol pretty soon or I will have to get a feeding tube inserted specifically for vodka. Now, I am not an alcoholic by any means, but those of you reading this, try going without a glass of wine or a martini for OVER A MONTH! Just try that! Life isn't so pretty anymore, is it? A person needs at least one vice, for pete's sake. Right now all I can do to misbehave is to take a bite of a cookie but then I just end up throwing up for half an hour. Who am I, Mrs. Job? I can't even have a bite of a cookie! Okay, there cannot be a God if a person can't have a cookie. Maybe that's what should go on my tombstone. But I'm not going to have a tombstone because I'm going to be tossed into the air for eternity. Which is what waiting to have a drink feels like. An Eternity! But I'm not an alcoholic, mind you? Did I say that already? And is thou protesting too much? Or thee? Or moi?

But here's what's been on mind the last few days. My divorce. Never thought I'd have cancer. Never thought I'd have to get divorced. As I mentioned many blogs ago, part of me wants to keep everything! The house, the phones, the pillows. I love my pillows. And my futon. I sleep on a futon. Love it. I think I can have that. But as long as I am living like that Jewess Monkess, maybe I should give everything to him. So I can have a clean clear life. Start completely over.

But that's not possible, is it? Because I'm not twenty anymore and I can't have children anymore and from this point on I'm just going to begin to crumble. So this starting over is completely different than, say, starting over twenty years ago. I can't make the big bucks anymore unless I write a novel and Oprah puts it on her book list. I can do everything I can to look nice but in the end it's just a losing battle, isn't it? But what do you know? You're probably thirty five or forty. I hate you.

No I don't. I hate me. Me is who I hate. All the wrong decisions. I have made all the wrong decisions.

See, this is where your mind goes when you can't eat chocolate chips. I need a cookie, dammit. And I need to get divorced. I am so bad at legal stuff. I know I'm going to screw it up and he's going to end up with everything and I'll be selling my computer at that pawn shop and I can't believe I gave a homeless woman my wedding ring!! Maybe I can find her? Grab that ring off her finger. No, I'm not that desperate. But I can't be stupid about the divorce. Someone asked me what I wanted. Told me to figure out exactly what I wanted and go from there. And I've been thinking about that and I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I WANT. You would think at this point in my life I would have some clear direction. Hmmmm. Should I go to Haverford or Lewis and Clark? You can't go anywhere, dummy! Those days are over. Why do I think that there are still possibilities? How insane is that?

You know what? I'm going to find those people walking backwards. I think they've got the right idea. If I walk backwards maybe I can figure out where I was going in the first place. But first, I am getting myself a fucking Oreo. Who can possibly think straight without an Oreo?

3 comments:

OldOldLady Of The Hills said...

You know Trish, it's funny about that walking backwards thingy...I used to see this very interesting African-Americam man....very very tall and slender and bald....Walking backwards on Outpost Drive...I would be driving up to Mulholland and he would be coming down, backwards....And I saw him many times...In fact we began waving at each other---me in my car, dribing, him, walking backwards....An Arresting figure, for sure. And he looked in GREAT Shape. He is the only person I ever saw do that..(I began seeing him on Franklin, too...) And you writing about those women is the only other time I've heard of 'walking backwards'...Maybe his devotion to this form og excersize is finally taking off! (lol)

I hate that you wat a cookis and throw up!!! That is not fair at all! I hope the Oreo sat better, my dear.

OldOldLady Of The Hills said...

OY! That is not 'wat', that should have been EAT! Help Me! (lol)

Girl About Town said...

Hullo! I'm here via Naomi's 'Here in the Hills' - working my way through your posts lol!!!

Interesting that you wrote...

"Because I'm not twenty anymore and I can't have children anymore and from this point on I'm just going to begin to crumble. So this starting over is completely different than, say, starting over twenty years ago. I can't make the big bucks anymore unless I write a novel and Oprah puts it on her book list. I can do everything I can to look nice but in the end it's just a losing battle, isn't it? But what do you know? You're probably thirty five or forty. I hate you."

...I am sort of going through this as we speak (write!!) - I'm just past 40. Maybe the midlife crisis hit me early? I don't know.

What I combat it with? Is the fact that I'm still here, and given that, dammit, I will make it count!!

Lol, so don't hate us 40 year olds. Some of us are older than we look!!

PS: Love love love the way your write! Think I'm hooked. :)