Comes a Time

Hello to the little baby handful of regular readers of this blog. As you all have noticed, I don't stop by here too often lately. There's a bunch of reasons for that. I realized recently that one of the reasons is that there are a few people that I gave this blog address to in the past year or so that I no longer wish to share information about my life with. It happens. This blog was created for the very same reason, and I abandoned the previous blog.

Perhaps more importantly, I feel like this blog simply has too much baggage. There are people I have met in the past year that I would feel uncomfortable sharing it with, because despite the fact that I rarely if ever mention specific events or details, there is enough evocative, referential crap that I feel really done with, and wouldn't want to share. I tended to write more when I was... less happy. And more self-isolating. I enjoyed chronicling all of it, the good and the bad, and it was helpful for me to hash it all out in this forum, even more helpful were the wonderful comments and loyalty of you-know-who-you-are.

My focus, my hopes, and my desires have shifted so decidedly that I no longer feel inclined to roost here. This particular journal is full, so to speak - and really, that's all it is - a journal, and journals fill up, and it feels good to start a new one. And so, this is my last post... at this address. To my loyal few, I will send you my new address once I set it up, which will be soon. My user name will change as well. Until then, thanks for stopping by the mill house.

Purge-tastic

I started a post yesterday, being home sick and all with a stomach bug and not much to do but lay around and get up to frequently - evacuate - in the uh, conventional manner. About a paragraph into the post, where I was expressing relief about the fact that at least I wasn't puking, I began to feel, well, like puking. And so I did. About a half dozen times. A low number for me, since typically when I am plagued with a puking virus it's more like 25 times, no fucking joke. In fact the last time I had a puking virus I ended up in the hospital, no fucking joke. The time before that was just as bad, though I avoided the ER. This is why I really, really, REALLY hate it when I realize I'm going to puke, because there's no telling when it's going to end. But it did end. I literally lost 4 lbs in one day, all water of course, but still. Nothing like an involuntary detox to get the week rolling!

Some good things about the day - well, puking 6 times was actually a good thing. I've now learned that's it's possible for me to do that and not always end up at 20+ times and delirious, and maybe next time I won't feel so instantaneously vulnerable and start crying when I have to puke. Once again, I'm fucking serious. Another good thing - my sweetheart took great care of me, brought me Ginger Beer and Gatorade and freezer pops and movies to watch. He joked around and made me smile when I could barely even talk or move. Tomorrow night we're going bowling. Yippee!

Bowling? Oh, yes. Bowling! I went for the first time about a week and a half ago, and I loved it. I had huge anxiety about trying it. Honestly, I need to devote an entire post to the whole bowling thing, because it took a LOT for me to finally get up there and do it, seriously. But once I got the hang of it, I really got into it. My sweetie has been bowling for a long time, and he loves it, so I'm kinda psyched that I can do this with him. We had such a blast last time, and I can't wait to go again.

I could prattle on about taxes (I appear to owe money this year. WTF?) or the primaries (all the prime contenders are already bought out and owned, so who cares) or the weather (tomorrow's gonna be shitty for driving) or the fact that my appetite is returning rapidly (but I have little to eat that appeals to me.)

But instead I'm going to say good night, get my sore body into a hot shower, spend a blissful evening in bed with absolutely no digestive issues...and dream of bowling!