Fried Days

Okay, I'll say it here and now. July has basically been a bust with regard to my goals.  I mean, for fuck's sake it's been hot, beyond hot. And when it hasn't been hot it has been storming. And when it hasn't been storming, it has just been . . .

BLAH.

Well, blah for me.

Not so much the heat, well yeah the heat, but because of the heat the usual, 'unable to sleep through the night' plague is even worse.

Which means getting up (waking up not the issue) to don some clothes, get on the bike and ride, ride, ride, Sally Deborah ride, is just . . . well, it hasn't been happening with any regularity. Or, at all.

And I bought new gloves and padded shorts too.

Not riding wouldn't be so bad, but I'm eating horribly. Well, not so much horrible choices but just too damn much. Over-stuffing. And I'm drinking a hella beer.

HELLA!

Not riding (or walking beyond what is absolutely necessary) eating and drinking too much wouldn't be oh, SO bad, but on top of all that, feeling guilty about it . . . I can't flippin' think.

It took too many days (cha-ching to the library coffers) to finish a 378 page book. I saw the movie for fuck's sake. I KNEW (basically) how it would end. And it wasn't like it was (at) all challenging. Come to think of it, maybe, 'can't flipin' think' is not precisely accurate. I. Can't. Focus.!.!

My brain is just fried (hehehehe, I typed, 'friend')....anyhoo...F.R.I.E.D and speaking of, fried green tomatoes, now, YES PLEASE, and while we're at it, fried pickles. EXCEPT for the variety I had at Seven Ten in Hyde Park many months ago. They were awful.

That said, July isn't over. I still have a chance. I have to shake this . . . whatever. I can't change the heat, the  job, any other stuff proffering the 'blues' just my reaction to it, them.

Each day is a brand new day. Welcome to the end of Wednesday and (plus) 100 heat index.

Bring on Thursday.

PS: special note to newest recruit who once gave me HOT SEX and who  is no longer, technically new . . .well, she is, but isn't; it's a long story . . . anywhoo, note to newest recruit who is now a bona fide friend . . . THEY  ARE FUCKING IDIOTS!!! 

Any Given Sunday

Some days ago I opened my email account to find a to find notice of a:

New Meetup Group!

The notice, in and of itself, did not surprise. Some weeks I get three or four such emails over the course  of said week. Art. Writing. LGBTQ. Socializing. Fitness. Films. Live Theater. Just some of the boxes I checked in my profile. So, I get an email whenever a group forms that touches (even ever so slightly) any one (or more) of my interest bullet points. 

So again, no surprise an email announcing the formation of and invitation to join: Polyfidelity, Polygamy, and Group Marriage MeetUp group appeared some days ago, for the tags used to categorize this group LGBT. Socializing. Friends. Women. Bi-Sexual Women. do indeed hit upon some my my bullet points.  

The organizer(s) asks two questions:  

Do you want more than one loving life-partner?   

Are you looking for multiple committed relationships?   

This meetup group intends to be a smaller, more personal group than the larger swinger and polyamory communities. Together we host potluck dinners, discussion groups, movie nights, and book clubs.

 

Yes? to any (all) then this might be a group for you. 

No, not for me. I'm not certain I want (or am capable of sustaining) a loving, long-term, committed LIVE-IN relationship with ONE adult woman, let alone more than one. Suffice to say, I'm a one woman, woman and while I do want a committed, loving relationship that hopefully develops over the long term, I do not know that we (whomever "we" may be) will live together.    

I am, however, certain that I will not ever live with a another man, who isn't my son. 

And while I took a pass on the Polyfidelity, Polygamy, Group Marriage invite and in fact, take a pass on many of the MeetUp invites as most are simply not my bottle of beer, every now and again a new group feels right enough to click, "yes." I've met some intriguing, fun, smart, engaging folks through some of the MeetUps. That isn't to suggest that the folks in P, P, Group Marriage group are not similarly endowed. . .  

the group's mission, is just. . .

no, not for me.    

First Sunday in July

This first Sunday in July also happened to be July first. Of course, we know that July first is only scant days prior to probably the most famous of July days since its inception, but were there any ot historic happenings on the first of July?

Well, according to this site there were several; for instance, the first postage stamp was sold on this date in 1847. Also, on this date in 1910, White Sox Park (Comiskey Park) and now, US Celluar Field, opened.  The White Sox lost to the Browns 2-0. In 1963 the post office institutes what is now called, zip code. Zipping ahead to the year 2000, Vermont's Civil Unions law goes into effect. The list ends with the July 1st (2007) notation of the smoking ban in public places for all of the UK.

The list ends there. I don't know if there were no items of historic significance on July 1st since 2007 or if events in more recent years are not yet considered, "historic". That is really hear nor there, for what July first means to me is, well, July FIRST. And beyond the July birthdays of which I am aware (a cousin turning 59, an two aunts 82 and 70, and me, 52) it also marks a newer focus on, well, marking.

Scale. Measuring Tape. Blood Pressure Gage. Note. Record. Focus. Goal. And to mark, there must we work. And the work must begin. The work did, in fact begin. I got up before the sun on Monday and rode 30 minutes, returned home, showered and went to work. I've been trying to walk at least 10,000 steps but blazes it is HOT and while not normally all that affected by the heat, I ain't stupid. I'm being careful and cautious and by all means, hydrated. But, the idea is, 30 minutes (minimum) at least 3 days a week of riding and 10,000 steps (minimum) every day. Plus, eating less processed, more fresh produce, and more . . . variety. I have quite a limited produce comfort zone. I. must. expand. (so to speak) my. horizons.

To be blunt, I'm not happy with where I am physically. Not just my weight but overall health. I don't feel as good as I used to feel. I want to feel better and to feel better I have to do better and to do better I must shift my focus and I must MARK.

My problem is that sooner or later the marking, the recording becomes a bit too....mundane. I'm working on a method that will be less so, over time. I haven't quite figured that part out yet, but I will and I think art will be involved somehow. For art must become much more present in my life. But, that's an entry for another day.

On that day, the first of July, the first of many thousand steps was taken toward the next evolution. By next July first (or FOURTH, happy Independence Day, ya'll) another happening of historic proportion can be added to a timeline. :-)

Peace.