2008-08-23 - 8:06 p.m.

August 11, 2005

I want to write, but my brain is stalled because work has been so hectic.

Um, we got a new mattress. I love it so much, but I don't think we're going to be able to keep it. It's a very firm mattress that doesn't bounce, and it has a thick pillow top with memory foam in it. It's like laying on a cloud. The problem is, despite the bed's firmness, the pillowtop is so thick that Poindexter's extra weight creates a little ditch for me to roll into. Also, when I try to sleep on my stomach, my pelvis sinks in too far and bends my back uncomfortably. I'm so upset. This is such a wonderful mattress. We can exchange it, but it can't have a pillowtop, I don't think. :(

I'm tired of being hot and sticky all the time. It was August-like in June, so summer has been going on too long. Ugh. I want to wear tweed again.

Lately, maybe because of work stress, I've been having bizarre stress dreams. Instead of being stressed about my OWN life, I stress in the dreams about OTHER people. Like, I had a dream where I was fretting about LJer Gekko's wedding preparations, as though I were her. When I woke up from that one, I couldn't believe it. I said to my subconscious, "Gekko is getting married, not me! Cut it out!"

Kit's post yesterday about sticking with your spouse through physical or mental changes got me thinking, shallowly, about my body getting old. I spent some time in front of the mirror trying to figure out if my butt looks worse than it did four years ago (when my butt icon picture was taken). I think it's lost something, some firmness in the skin, kinda. This depresses me. I don't want to be old and saggy. But I better get used to it. I'm just relieved that my boobies are small enough in absolute terms (they only look big because my frame is so small) that they haven't begun to fail me yet.

Whatever Poindexter is may be perfect to me, but men are more visual than women, and at some point, my ass is just not going to be the visual candy for him that it once was. Fortunately Poindexter either hasn't noticed any changes or is in denial or still thinks it's OK. I'm certainly not going to, like, POINT IT OUT to him. It's hard for me to judge properly because I've never liked how my ass looks dead-on, only from angles, and never understood why Poindexter thinks it's so wonderful. I'm just eternally grateful that that he does.

What I should do, I suppose, is start skating more and see if that does anything. I did a lot of skating in 2001 but have gotten out of the habit because the beginner/intermediate group skate in Philadelphia is at the ungodly hour of 10am (it was on Friday nights in DC), and I feel like shit until about 2pm, after lunch has had time to digest. Plus there's noplace for me to skate that's easy to get to from the house, like there was in Virginia. There's an evening beginner skate but it's only once a month. I'll have to figure something out. Skating is good for my health, even if it doesn't do anything for my ass.

EDIT: Upon further reflection, it seems that self-pity is only about 10% of my fretting over this. I don't care too much if I have a crappy ass; I'll just wear baggy jeans and forget about it. The other 90% of my fretting is me being upset that my body won't be eye candy for Poindexter anymore. That sucks.

EDIT2: And I mean this in the sense that I will not be able to make Poindexter happy in this particular way anymore (by having a perky ass). If something happened to me and I could no longer fetch him sandwiches, since he hates leaving the house, I would be sad that I couldn't do that for him. Does that make sense? I like bringing him food, and I like being sexy to him.

August 20, 2005

We have been in Florida for the past week, visiting Poindexter's parents. At LJer lemonhd06's suggestion, Poindexter and I left for the beach about 8:30 tonight to wait for the moonrise. I had looked up the moonrise time -- 8:52 -- and we were on the beach by 8:45. We couldn't see a damn thing, unlike a sunrise where it becomes obvious where the sun is going to come up, and some heat lightning seemed to indicate that there were clouds on the horizon. I was fretting that we wouldn't be able to see anything, and scanning the horizon and finally grumbling:

Evelynne: I'm not feeling optimistic... ... oh! [points at small red glow on horizon]
Poindexter: Ha! Not feeling optimistic, huh?
Evelynne: Wow, it's moving fast! Or, we're moving fast. Whatever.
Poindexter: [talking about the speed at which the moon rises] That's creepy.
Evelynne: It's RED! I thought it would take a long time.
Poindexter: I thought it would take for bloody fucking ever. [pause] That's CREEPY!
Evelynne: Wow, it's almost done! Almost all the way up!

Because of the lack of objects for perspective, it didn't look as big to me as it had a month or so ago when we were driving east on a highway and it was sitting among the trees. It looked freakin' humongous then. But it was very pretty, and the temperature and breeze on the beach was perfect. This is just the type of short-duration activity that doesn't take Poindexter out of the house for too long, but that sounds very romantic to the people who don't think the two of us are romantic enough because we don't give each other birthday or Christmas presents.

August 23, 2005

My "real" vacation hasn't started yet -- I've been working part-time and playing board games and "porker" with the nieces part-time. I am desperately hoping that my real vacation will start tomorrow by 2pm or so, after I have gone over today's work with my supervisor and written up a memo for the client. What I have been dying to do is go to the fancy rich people's mall and look at the thousand-dollar handbags and fall jackets that I can't afford. I also need to go to the library and check out at least five books to start.

So far during the visit, we have been sleeping in the aft cabin on the boat, which has mirrors covering the walls on both sides of the bed, from which I can see my saggy old ass from multiple angles. I am happy to report that I no longer care if my ass doesn't look like it did four years ago, because I think it looks just fine, if not downright spectacular, in mood lighting. Also, I asked Poindexter, "So, you don't care how saggy my ass gets as long as I don't whine about it? I should just continue to stick it out and shake it at you no matter how jiggly it gets?" And he emphatically said yes. All you folks who told me that were absolutely right. So, this doesn't mean I won't still attempt to exercise it more, but I'm not feeling so whiny.

Not about my ass, anyway. What I *am* feeling whiny about is that I can't sleep on that bed anymore without waking up with back pain. BLAH! I have always loved sleeping on the boat, because it rocks and I sleep really, really soundly. The bed is a firm foam pad kinda thing (not memory foam or egg crate; something firmer than that) on a platform, and I never had any trouble with it before. But sometime between last Thanksgiving and now, my body betrayed me and started fussing, so I wake up with a backache every morning. Tonight we move into the house, onto a proper mattress, which will hopefully be easier on my poor old body. I keep saying I need to start doing yoga, and given my ass issues and now the mattress issues, I really better get on it.

In other vacation news, the next-door neighbor has a small secluded pool, but they don't use it much, so they let the neighbors use it. I just found out that the next-door neighbors are going away on a trip, and you know what that means. MIDNIGHT SKINNY DIPPING!! WOOHOOHOO!! Poindexter refuses to participate in my debauchery (somehow he does not revel in "donning" the birthday suit quite like I do), which is fine because I need him to stand guard in case any of the neighbors have the same idea when I'm already in there. ;)

I'll have to wait a few days though, because poor Poindexter is sick. :( My poor baby. He seems to have caught a cold on the plane, and this is his 7th day of feeling ill. I hope it goes away soon. The cold seems to be progressing the way my cold did in June, and once the bug was dead the recovery period was really short for me, so I hope it's the same for him so he can enjoy the last few days of his vacation.

Just as I was about to post these (the preceding paragraphs were written hours ago), I heard Poindexter having a coughing fit in the bathroom. I went in there to pat him on the back and be sympathetic, only to find him laughing and coughing simultaneously, his mother standing there laughing as well, and Nyquil sprayed all over the mirror over the sink. He managed to get most of it into the sink, but there was a fine spray of red droplets on the mirror. "I have Nyquil in my nose," he said, laughing. Since it is red, and since I had just watched "Saw" with P and MIL, it looked like blood. If I hadn't seen him laughing first I would have panicked.

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