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| Category: The Sacred In Everyday Life |
Date published: January 22, 2005 |
The rain and snow don't bother. It doesn't reach me where I walk. This sprawling ranch in which I live, this Motel 6, is protected from the elements.
And why do I call it such, you may ask... Why a Motel 6? Perhaps this will explain. The house is long, 3,000 square feet of long, and the rate for rental is cheap...in fact, zero, big fat 0. Children and their families come and go. I don't mind; I love them here, but eating everything children and grandchildren leave behind has made me fluffy. Oh, heck, let's be honest, I love to eat and its made FAT. What in life can bring as much satisfaction as a large bowl of ice cream covered in chocolate sauce?
I once was sexy in appearance, but I didn't know that back then. I thought myself FAT. In my youth, I didn't understand how foolish my thinking was. I had the desired measurements, (36", 26", 36"), and my hair was long and breasts high. I looked into my mirror and scoffed, not approving what I saw.
Each year that passed found my scale gaining in defectiveness...it wasn't reading right. My mirror became like the ones in a house of mirrors, not the ones that show you tall and skinny, but the ones that reflect you shorter and fatter. Surely it didn't show the real me.
Dieting, oh, yes, I know that word, I believe I went on my first one in the eight-grade. I had a shape like Marilyn Monroe and Jane Mansfield, but my friends were skinny. Next to them, I was FAT! Dieting would lose the weight, but the pounds never stayed long in the "Lost and Found" department. I always reclaimed them...then added a few friends.
I look at old pictures of me, ones taken years ago when I thought myself FAT, and I wish I could be that FAT again.
The years change you. Your face begins to fall and your breasts quickly begin their downward spiral toward your knees. The weight helps to carry them downward...it also fills the hollows in your face and adds volume to your breasts. Dieting...how many succeed at it well? And if they do...what is their reward? They AGE, yes they AGE! Their faces suddenly have these craters below their cheeks and they begin to look like one of those sad old bulldogs with their jowls hanging down. Wrinkles in the face and around the eyes become more pronounced. If a woman, the breasts now look like two balloons that have lost their air.... But they've reached their goal...they are now in close proximity to the knees.
Ahhh! So why do I covet such a position? Why do I diet? They don't work. I should know. I've been on plenty of them in my life. I long for the day when the lost pounds lay unclaimed in the "Lost and Found" department. I'm now on another...another diet, but this time I am adding exercise. Is there anyone out there that doesn't think that a dirty word. I've never liked it...never liked exercise. To do it, I have to leave my computer chair and do something. I say to myself, "People die doing exercise...why take a chance?" I love to walk, but not alone. I once had friends to do it with, but that was long ago, two states ago. I now live in seclusion. Hidden within these brick walls without anyone interested in the fact that I am here. Food is my best friend.
Back to my diet and exercise program. It is winter and outside is cold. Sometime there is snow...even in the south. In the summertime, it is too hot to walk, or raining. I always find an excuse to avoid that dirty word. I had two treadmills. They were really good at collecting dust. "Place it in front of your TV," some would say, "it will pass the time." Who wants to watch a program they can't hear? Those things are noisy. For some reason, I tire on those things, and my heart races. That can't be good, I tell myself.
So now, I walk, not outside, neighbors might take measurement of my back end and attempt to track my progress. You may ask, "How do you know this?" Because I did it, I took note of my neighbor's butt. Each day I left for work, she was out walking. I watched her for a year...that butt never got any smaller.
So why am I doing it? I'm growing old. My ticker is begging me to give the computer chair a rest. I want to live to see my soon to be grandson grow up, as well as the others. Most of all, I don't want to give my husband the opportunity to find one of those woman...you know the kind. They live to EXERCISE and they don't need DIETS. Their breasts are made perky by implants...and they are young. Young vamps don't mind if a man has snow on the mountain, if he is successful and has a large enough insurance policy.
I don't intend to give him that opportunity. I'll diet for the umpteenth time...and I will walk... Walk between these walls of brick...through this Motel 6 that is my home.
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In My Own Words: Out-of-the-Ordinary Experiences
