I don't need a bag

My utility closet was overflowing with assorted plastic grocery bags. I bought some canvas bags to use instead. Yay me, for helping save the environment!

So far the Target cashiers have been the only ones who get it. I put my bag on the counter and they fill it. All the other cashiers have thought it's the weirdest thing in the world for a customer to bring his own bag. And Minyard's was the worst. The sacker there wanted to put my items in plastic bags, then put them in my canvas ones! Apparently, it's also uncool to have only one or two items and declare that you don't need a bag. Umm, that's what my hands are for.

Dropping 20

Every day, at some point, I feel so displeased with my body. It happens when I'm dressing (something's too tight) or putting on makeup (there's the start of a double chin) or deciding what to wear (all those cute clothes that don't fit) or looking at some fit person (why not me?).

Every day I say to myself I need to start eating better and working out and lose these extra 20 pounds. It's more frustrating because I know I can do it -- I've done it before -- but I just can't seem to get motivated.

Every day I make poor food choices and let my gym bag ride around in the car with me.

My fitness challenge with V was a bust. I've tried working out in the morning and in the afternoon. I just can't get into a routine.

I thought about using the menus I wrote back when I was in shape. They've been sitting on the coffee table for months. I thought about joining eDiets. I talked myself out of it because of the cost. Then Lass pointed out the Kraft Healthy Living website which is basically the same thing, but free. Still nothing. Now I'm thinking about going back to Jenny Craig. Maybe some outside accountability would help. Then there's the expense to think about. I can afford it now after my promotion, but what about my plan to save for a washing machine and dryer? And what about when I reach my goal? I'll be back to making up my own menus which isn't working now. What makes me think it'll work later?

I think I'm just making excuses. Maybe I'm afraid to fail or afraid that I won't be able to use being overweight as a reason for my life not being perfect. I've got to find out what the block is.

First date

Frenchy came over last night. We watched Good Night and Good Luck, talked, and had a couple of make-out sessions. He ended up spending the night, but it was quite chaste ... well, mostly chaste. There was lots of kissing, a little touching, strictly above the waist with no clothing removed. It was nice, and he wasn't pushy at all.

The cutest part of the night was during the movie. We were sitting close to each other, but he hadn't made a move yet. It was getting chilly in the room, so I got a blanket and covered us up. His fingers were touching my arm. I leaned forward to get a sip of my beer, and his fingers moved to my wrist. When I leaned back, he moved them to my hand, so then we were holding hands under the blanket. It was so sweet!

So far, so good

I think I have a date tomorrow night!

I talked to Frenchy again tonight. He suggested getting together tomorrow night to watch movies at his place. I'm supposed to call him tomorrow during the day to confirm. I'm going to suggest that he come here instead. I'll feel more comfortable on my turf. Not to mention I won't have to drive the 20 miles to his place!

We didn't talk on the phone for long, but he was more animated than he was on Wednesday night. I think he may have been inhibited by his friends' being there. Tonight he was more like the Frenchy I met last week. I'm so excited about seeing him again.

Torture

First Frenchy didn't call and then he did.

He was supposed to call at 7:30. When 8:00 came along, I IMed Lass and we called him some bad names, and I called V and we called him some more bad names. Then I remembered my motto, "Don't cry because it's over; smile because it happened." Those were some good kisses after all. Still, I felt horrible. I should have known better than to want him to call. For the millionth time I swore off men forever.

8:30 rolled around, and the phone rang. Frenchy! I told him he was an hour late. He said he was "doin' stuff." We made some small talk. He was at a friend's house hanging out before his soccer game. He made a reference to getting together, but we didn't make definite plans. He's going to call tomorrow.

So much for swearing off men. More waiting instead. At least now I don't feel so anxious about it.

Ice cream!

I've had a mad craving for ice cream recently. I finally got some tonight: a pint of Ben & Jerry's New York Super Fudge Chunk. It is so yummy!

And guess what else I bought. Cow's milk. A little over a year ago I read an article that said cow's milk can have pus in it if the cow's teats are infected at the time of milking. Since then I've only been drinking soy milk. Tonight I didn't feel like going to the grocery store and I stopped in Target instead. They didn't have any soy milk, so I bought skim cow's milk.

It's a silly aversion anyway, since I still eat cheese, yogurt, and the above mentioned ice cream.

Waiting game

I hate this! I gave Frenchy my phone number and for some reason that I can't recall I told him to call me on Wednesday at 7:30. I know he's not going to call. They never do. They either were so drunk they forgot all about having met someone or they never intended to call in the first place. Nevertheless, I'm all anxious for him to call. It's a most uncomfortable feeling. The only consolation is the bet with V. She insists he'll call. If he doesn't, she has to buy me dinner.

He told V that he was "elated" to meet me. He told me repeatedly that he was glad he stored my phone number in his cell phone before the battery died. He kept saying how much he likes me. That was all probably drunk talk. By the time Wednesday comes, he will either have forgotten me or will have talked himself out of calling. I know this, so why am I still hoping he'll call? I'm going to be a wreck on Wednesday.

French

I frenched a guy last night! It was 95% perfect. His tongue was a little harder than I like, but everything he did with it was sensational!

I've said for a long time that kissing is what I miss most after not having been with anyone. Henry couldn't kiss well. The last guy who could was ages ago, like December '04. This was just the fix I needed.

Crushed

I was so over my crush on the usher captain. That is, until last night.

When I first developed the crush at the end of the summer, I decided to take the advice I've read in so many advice columns: embrace the crush, indulge in the silly fantasies, and eventually the crush will burn itself out. It worked, but now the flame has been rekindled.

Last night we talked for about 20 minutes about work and travel. He told me that his job frequently gives away free products and he offered to bring me some. I told him my brother works for Frito-Lay, so I'll bring him some snacks in exchange.

Later I was remembering how excited I got once when he said, "You and I will handle this side." "You and I!" It was so hot! While I was standing there thinking of that, he said, "You and I will come down the middle," and touched my elbow. I thought I would pass out! I also used to like when he said my name. Goofy, I know. Last night he whispered it after the second collection, calling me to go to the back with him and put the money in the safe.

Of course, I want to read extra meaning into all these things. Like, why did he hold my hand during the Lord's Prayer but not his wife's? Why did he have me go to the back with him instead of one of the 3 other guys there?

I'm going to have to start all over. Embrace, indulge, extinguish.

Hey, college kids! Stop sinning!

I kept my word and went to confession this afternoon. I thought I'd be smart and get there early to beat the crowd. I was so wrong. I arrived 10 minutes before the start time and was #11 in line! What are these college kids up to? Okay, don't answer that. They're probably up to much of the same things I was up to in college. That's part of the comfort of going to confession at work: there's no doubt the priest has heard some juicy stuff and won't be shocked at what I have to say.

Anyway, I barely made it in. I was the last one the priest heard, and there were 6 people behind me. Ironically, when I committed one of the sins I needed to confess, I said to myself, "Oh, well. I'll just go to confession." It took me almost six weeks. I will never take this sacrament for granted again.

Confession procrastination

Why do I keep putting off going to Confession? I'm not embarrassed. I don't even have anything that horrible to confess. Sometimes I lose track of time or forget. Other times I come up with excuses. I did go about a month ago but the line was so long that the priest didn't have time to hear all the confessions. I haven't received Communion in over a month. I've missed the last two First Fridays (I was trying to keep the "Nine Fridays" Sacred Heart devotion).

I had planned to go to Confession tonight, but I'm already undressed and in bed. Tomorrow night I could go before Bible Study, but I don't want Fr. John to recognize my voice. Excuses, anyone? I'll have two opportunities to go on Friday at work. I think I'll try the 4:00 because I think Fr. Philip does that one, and I've never gone to him before. If for some reason that doesn't work out, I'll go Saturday afternoon. I'm determined to go before Sunday.

You can't fire me, I quit!

We've all been there.

By 'there' I mean: you don't really like the guy, but when he blows you off, you're all "What the hell? I can't believe he stood me up. How dare he not like me when I didn't like him first?!"

Patrick is gone. He sent an email the day after the phone call saying it was a pleasure talking to me. I haven't heard from him since. True, I didn't respond to the email, but I don't think he'd be the type to take that as some signal of my uninterest. I think for his own reasons he decided to end our correspondence. That's actually fine with me. Better than fine, it's great. But I still wish I could tell him that he turned me off long before I turned him off. I guess the truth is I had the chance to tell him and I didn't. For now I'll have to believe that since I'm making no effort to contact him and find out what happened to our date, he'll understand that I don't care that he's gone.

Lent

I know Lent is a time of penitence, but I don't think it's inappropriate to say I'm enjoying it this year. I have seriously neglected my prayer life in the last few months. The special observances and devotions of this period of the Church year are helping me to refocus, and I can see what I've been missing.

At work each Friday, campus ministry is offering Lenten Lunches. We meet in silence; have soup, bread, and water; and listen to a priest read from Thomas Merton's Thoughts in Solitude.

I decided to take on something this year rather than give up something. I'm going to the Stations of the Cross every Friday night. The reflections are so moving and each one has relevance to my daily life.

I hope the next six weeks will help me to get back on track spiritually.

What am I getting myself into?

Patrick called last night. You're asking,"Why did she give him her phone number?" Yeah, that's a good question. I gave him my number because I'm a nutcase. I already knew he had sex on the brain, so why did I think his conversation would be anything different than what it was? I think I thought I could somehow keep him in check, keep the dirty talk to a minimum. Instead it was like a metaphor I heard in church once: adding ink to water doesn't clear up the ink, it turns the water inky.

We talked for about an hour and a half. The first part of it was okay, but then we started asking each other various sex questions. Almost like a truth-or-dare game without the dares. He started it, but I have to admit I didn't try to stop him and I had some pretty risque questions of my own. The problem that I had with it was that he took every opportunity to mention how this or that will be when we have sex. He's so confident that it's going to happen even though I told him my stance on casual sex. It got to be a turn-off.

Well, to confirm my stupidity, I'm supposed to go out with him this weekend. We don't have any firm plans. He just said that he's planning to come to Dallas either Friday or Saturday. At first I was excited. Now, not so much. It wouldn't be horrible to have drinks and dinner with him. I'd just really like to be done with the whole thing.

If I ever post or answer another ad on Craigslist, please knock some sense into me.