The totally shame-free, actual-life, real-time blog where I tell all, show all--without nagging or whining (all right--maybe a little whining...)--in my attempt to stop being a fat middle-aged woman who avoids mirrors and clothing stores and start being a woman at home in her body...brought to you by a real woman, the Independent Weltha Herself. I won't give any advice, and I'm not asking for any--just companionship on my journey.

Every day...a new post. Every other real weight. Every pictures.

For every woman who has ever tried to just lose the extra weight and feel good...overall and about herself...and who lived to tell the story.

Monday, November 28, 2011

Day the 169th

All right, all right, Reader. I didn't post over Thanksgiving. Is that so wrong?

But first, before I launch into my Sins Of Eating (and oh, they are many over this Thanksgiving Weekend), it's time to take care of a little business.

I left a name off my list of people for whom I'm thankful, when last I wrote on Wednesday-The-Day-Before-Thanksgiving.

I left off Mischa, my Polish prince. You know how it gets...sometimes, you leave people off. Here's why I'm thankful for him: he's a mensch. He's sober-minded. He tries. He is, as I was once taught many years ago, quick to repent. Good stuff all. I'm thankful for him.

And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming...

I ate like a madwoman. I mean, I ate cookies, brownies (complete with praline topping), artichoke dip, an omelet filled with grease and goodness, and more, more, more.

People, it's the holidays. No, I'm not on the scales these days. I don't want to see. I'm not going to eat any ol' doggone thing in sight so nobody get kerrrrrazy on me, but I'm going to enjoy myself. A lot. I'm thankful. I've known lots of deprivation. I know what it is to do without. This year is a year of rejoicing during the holidays. Period. So, expect to hear about delicious Eggnog, Pumpkin Cheesecake (yeeesssssssssss!), and who knows what else? Oh, and my Christmas Tree which will be put up starting...December 1. I am all sorts of excited. favorite season of the year has begun: Advent. Yesterday was the First Sunday In Advent. And starting on what most people consider to be the beginning of Advent (December 1 - this Thursday), I'm going to be writing a little Advent Meditation (I almost wrote 'medication' and that's not far from the truth) or Advent Memory. Bear with me. Advent means a great deal to me, and on Thursday, December 1, this blog will tell you why.

This morning, I ate a whole sleeve of Kedem Biscuits, which charming items I find in the Jewish section of the grocery store. They are little cookies without a bunch of fuss and they are inexpensive, and I love that. A totally naughty breakfast, washed down with mint iced tea. What's not to love? I told you I would be honest. I am.

This weekend also had lots of White Chili in it and this time, I made a version without chicken BUT with mushrooms. It was lovely. And lots of low-fat sour cream and also some yummy cheese. So sue me. I enjoyed it. Tonight, I plan to make rolls, coleslaw, baba (because I have two - count 'em - two eggplants that need to be used or else), and more chili, o doggone it, I forgot to thaw the chicken. Oh well, quick chicken thaw...I can do it.

And now, the Thought For The Day:


For a variety of reasons, I have been thinking about this. And I have come to a conclusion. Love is an action born out of a good heart, and love requires committment.

Recently, I have had two people telling me they love me. Two men, to be exact. We'll go no further than that other than the first man mentioned hear meant "I love you" in a non-romantic but sincere friend way. The second meant it in a romantic way. I'm not sure, however, that that means much about this situation. I don't find one "better" than the other or more "real" than the other.

One had offended the socks off me. I mean, offended the very socks right off my size 7 feet. And he needed to be thankful I was not in his general vicinity with a heavy object in my hands.

The other had not offended me. Not at all. Had done something very nice for me, as in extremely very nice for me, in the last few months. Not that the offender hadn't done nice things. But the offense was great. Very great. And the other one (the non-offender) had been very sweet and charming.

Let's call the offender 'Thing One' and the non-offender 'Thing Two.' If you have read Green Eggs and Ham by Dr. Seuss, you know what I mean.

Here's the interesting thing about Thing One and Thing Two. Thing One offended the livin' crap out of me, hurt me deeply, and broke my heart. I mean, I was ready to start my own personal chorus of "Hit the Road, Jack, and Dontcha Come Back No Mo', No Mo', No Mo', No Mo'...."

Thing Two had been generous and charming and complimentary, and I was thinking of throwing caution to the wind. You've done this yourself.

But here's the irony. I believe it when Thing One tells me he loves me, and I don't believe Thing Two at all. Or rather, I think Thing One's love is real and Thing Two's is...not so real.


Because Thing Two made wordy protestations (okay, not that wordy...) of love but without any committment whatsoever other than not lying to me. And yes, not lying to a girl is big. It's huge. I appreciate that. But it was also the no cross no crown sort of love. Everyone - especially Thing Two - feels all nice and happy but it is meaningless. It carries no weight. Not that I want it to, but by golly, tell me you love me, and you better bring it. Period. Or else, just don't tell me. It's okay. My heart got a little...bruised is the wrong word...let's say 'dinged', you know, when a pebble flies up and dings off the side of your car. No harm, no foul, and you don't notice that it did it once you're a few miles down the road. But I sure bought into it. For a few days. And now, it's just a fading blip on my radar. Sorry, Thing Two, if you're reading it, but true. I do appreciate your generosity and your interest. But I don't think you much love me. It's okay, too. It really is.

Thing One nearly got the ol' ax. But it's funny...Thing One told me the same doggone thing: "I love you, O lovely Weltha" and I cherish it like I do my toy rabbit (named Bunny from Captain Kangaroo, but I digress) and hold it to my heart because you see, it was followed with an apology and a promise that took a great deal to make. An 'I'll Never Do That To You Again' sort of promise. And daily 'doing better.' And courage to say, "Yes, we can talk after Christmas, and I will man up and listen to you." Oh, and staying on my radar. That's important. Not falling off my radar. That takes courage when confronted by an Angry Woman With Big Blue Eyes And Steam Is Issuing From Them. Real courage.

So here is what I think: Love means doing. Love means committment. Love requires courage. I'm not saying Thing Two didn't have courage - he did, after all, put it out there. Kudos to Thing Two for that.

But Thing One...shows every sign of making something glowing and valuable of this whole thing. Shows promise. Shows the possiblity of Going The Distance. It was all tattered and tarnished there for a while. But I'm going to give it the old college try to recognize the mirror-like silver in the tarnished.

And I'm not going to be fooled by the shiny tinsel.

Thing One - you know who you are. Keep up the good work. And I'll do my part not to be shiny tinsel myself.



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