The Vile Language: Day 13

I didn’t post while I was up in the mountains. I could have. I absolutely could have broken away and spent the forty-five minutes to add some scattered notes and that probably would have been the wiser option. But old vacation habits died quite hard. I didn’t think about anything but the very moment I was in. I worried ever so slightly about driving or more rightly, being transported to the mountains and if the elevation or any little thing at all whatsoever would have triggered.

I’m hopeful about going back to write about the excellent nature of what did transpire. Not only to fill out the deck, but to explore what is true: Which was the fact that I had an excellent and relaxing vacation – five days par exemplum when it comes to the idea of not being owned by my anxieties. Of properly enjoying a peaceful, mostly spontaneous, stretch of time not owned by my job or some man in some far distant land or of this exhaustive mess of things I have to haul about and care for in my house.  I was travelling light. It was marvelous.

This morning, waking up to see the view in the skylight at the Airbnb of a giant side of a mountain, we got up, got packed, cleaned the house up of all our water bottles, and bottles of booze, and with a warmed up car, drove home in the most glorious, sunny morning you can imagine down and around the side of the mountain.  I felt like I was showing my friends the absolute best of what Colorado can be.  A winter that is sight, but not pain.  No slick roads to contend with, just little gingerbread houses and Red Dead Redemptive scenery.  I was quite proud.

Then, our final meal together: tacos, the best version of them, then a shot to my sister and her boyfriend’s home where they could finally meet some of the most important people in my life.  Then, a ride home and a hard crack as we hit the wall of recalling all the work I was trying to do and the person I was trying to be before I left.  How I wanted to snap right back to work.  Trying to do that by being here and doing this.

But what I’m attracted to in my arrival home is adulthood. It’s enduring one’s own distracted, concerned mind and accepting that there are things that must be done.  Meeting the timelines of my own reality.  Bucking up, buckling down, not crying for someone else to find a way.   Monday – let’s do our damndest to keep this in mind.

Maybe along the way I was hopeful that I would have received some message from the RP’er. Some final moment where he might have reached out and written some kind and final farewell as I endeavored to do two years ago. When I felt the extreme burden of moral clarity and I acted upon it in a moment of absolutely murky logistics. At this point, the google-fu has made it equally morally clear that occurred in a window that is now entirely closed.

So back to the drawing board.  More to say, more to say. Best to stop mid-sentence, leave them all hungry for more.

Mint Julep: Day 15

Halfway.

Memorial Day.  I honor and recognize this day and all those who have given all of themselves so that I have the freedom to bloviate on the internet and wail about things as specious and ridiculous as a quest to slenderize myself.  Such a huge offering.

….

Alright, last day of the three day vacation.  The great gasp before we plunge into the proverbial abyss of summer events.

So, what I require of myself today is a bit more giddy-up and go.  This is why I’m typing to you from my bed before 10:00am in the morning with not a great deal today except to proffer up one more daily plan of goodness and progress.

….

Well, we giddied-up and went.  Today took an unexpected turn and my sister decided that it would be a good day to go out and check out Red Rocks.  Silly me, I thought, Red Rocks, that’ll be fun.  Which isn’t to say it wasn’t, but of course, once we got ourselves packed with a lunch and driven over there, I felt groggy and irritable and the thought of tripping through the undergrowth, sidestepping rattlesnakes, and basically all the significantly unpleasant things you might associate with hiking reared up in my head.  All of a sudden, my little anxiety-ridden mind pulled a screeching halt to “this will be fun” and it played a little sequence of You, honestly, truly, despite the fact that everyone else is doing it, physically cannot go on this trail.  Played it in that voice that I have spent a very long time listening to and so I pulled up short, gazed out the distance halfway up the ramp that would take us to the ampitheatre and dizzily made my way back down, letting my sister go on ahead.  I was dehydrated and this incline in elevation would make the blood vessels in my head pop and I’d start crawling on my hands and knees.  These were the kind of out-of-control, completely groundless and wasteful thoughts I had.  They frustrate the shit out of me now, but in the moment, they always, always feel like the truth.

Curious as I am to see the ampitheatre and having never actually been to a concert here despite living 30 minutes away most of my life, I still meekly went back down.  Not knowing what to do with myself, I walked around the parking lot, almost 3/4ths of a mile until she came back.  Then, I thought, well, this is kind of bullshit on my part.  This is kind of annoying for me to do.  To come all the way out here and not take advantage of it.  We got ready and everything.  I don’t want to leave with that shitty feeling hanging on me the rest of the day.  So we went and did the trail and while it was hard in some spots…I didn’t panic or freak or spaz  and was kind of a normal human being for a minute.  So glad I did that.  Next time, we’re going up the ramp.  I can climb the Great Wall of China, I can climb this, easy.

It’s all easy, in the end, when you get your brain out of it.

Today: 160 on the nose.  Less salt, more water!
Yesterday 159.2
Goal: 155 by June 15