…and she isn’t me.
My ex’s wedding is / was today. Lest you get the wrong idea, I want to be perfectly clear that I am not at all jealous of the girl he is marrying, and I would say that I wish them all the happiness in the world, except that I just don’t really care about them one way or the other. (Yep, I am cold and unfeeling. Too bad.)
I saw my therapist today, which isn’t my usual day to see her, but it was re-scheduled because of Shavuos. Anyway, one basic conclusion I reached is that I either really don’t care that he’s married, or I did such an amazing job of convincing myself that I don’t care, that I truly believe that I don’t. Either way, the result is the same, so I guess it’s irrelevant. But of course this brought us back to the subject of marriage… heaven only knows why we wind up talking about it so much!! I am basically the most umarriageable person EVER, which makes all of this discussion moot. The funny part is that if my therapist is right (I’ll get to that in a minute), I should be every guy’s dream come true. Hmmm. I guess she’s not right, then!
I had said something along the lines of it being very sad indeed if I’m the one who knows myself better than anyone else, because I really don’t feel like I know myself well at all. When she asked what I meant, I said that I just have a lot of trouble “defining” myself, and I always have… am I a “tomboy,” or am I a “girly girl”? I realize that it’s possible to have aspects of both, but they never seemed to jibe very well with me, for some reason. This is where she set out to explain to me how that is not only possible, but is actually the reality with me. According to her, I can be a girly girl because I like to look pretty… and her monologue was interrupted here by my (highly unladylike!) snort of laughter, because imagining myself as “pretty” is, in my mind, the equivalent of imagining myself as a seven-foot-tall Eskimo. It’s just not something I ever was, or ever will be, no matter how much I try! It isn’t that I think I am the most hideous thing ever to hit the planet, I just don’t think I’m “pretty” either… I guess I just am. Average, that is. (Not that I go around announcing my feelings on the subject, because people seem to feel some sort of perverse need to contradict others when they lambaste their own appearance, and I don’t need to be lied to, thank you very much!) If my therapist considers me a girly girl because I don’t just roll out of bed and out the door, I don’t know how reliable an index that is. Honestly, I just feel like people are more apt to gossip about those who don’t look like they’re trying to be presentable, and I hate it when people talk about me. So. There’s some motivation. Ha.
A-N-Y-W-A-Y. If my therapist is right about that previous paragraph, and about the fact that I am a sports fan and would opt to go to a game or do something athletic before watching a “chick flick,” then it really sounds like I am “every guy’s dream come true”! Of course, this is all existing in some alternate universe, because like I said, I am definitely not marriage material. Hell, I seriously doubt I am even relationship material! Pardon me while I go crawl back under my rock.
I guess I’ll have to come out in a couple of days, though, because I booked a massage for Thursday. I figured I would need some de-stressing prior to the holiday stresses! I wish I could afford another one afterwards too, but I have to pay through my teeth to have my wisdom teeth pulled, no pun intended… how ridiculous is it that I am actually going to pay someone one and half grand to pull my teeth out of my head?!
Turns out I was right about the sleep deprivation taking a day to catch up to me. As a result, I’m sure that the vast majority of what I’ve written makes little to no sense, so I’m going to move on and try to wrap up here!
I guess I have some “product reviews”:
Bar of the Day (Apple Peanut Butter Keribar)
I’m really starting to like Keribars… the individual ingredients are actually distinguishable, and you can see the pieces of apple and peanuts here. It’s nice to be able to identify what it is that you’re eating!
Kashi TLC Crunchy Granola Bar, Pumpkin Spice Flax
I wasn’t sure I’d like this flavor, because I’m not a major fan of pumpkin spice. But I was pleasantly surprised. While Kashi has yet to usurp my favorite Nature Valley granola bar flavor (which, for the record, is Apple Crisp), they are definitely growing on me. The fact that it has less sugar, and that it doesn’t taste so artificial, definitely doesn’t hurt!
On the topic of artificial flavors — I’m sure most of you know that Snapple has undergone some sort of image revamp. Addict that I am, I was so well-stocked with the old bottles that I didn’t get around to tasting a new one until yesterday! And… it tastes so much better!! Smoother, in a way, and a little less like you’re just pouring chemicals down your throat.
Back to Kashi… I tackled the Island Vanilla cereal this morning.
I guess that in my mind I had equated it with granola… and even though technically it’s half a cup of granola that’s equivalent on a caloric value with a cup of this cereal, it oddly doesn’t come across like that visually. Maybe because these are “biscuits,” and granola is a bunch of little pieces? I don’t know. But as a cereal, I thought this was a little disappointing. First of all, it is oddly “light” for the calories. Which is fine if you’re trying to condense, but I hate that. Second of all, it gets soggy very quickly. The flavor is not bad — a subtle vanilla-y sweetness — but it would be better straight from the box as opposed to with some sort of liquid.
I’ve mentioned that I am a cereal freak who could quite happily eat nothing but cereal for the rest of my life. I’ve always loved cereal. While agonizing over my Island Vanilla this morning, I started thinking about the disparity in the way I used to eat cereal as a kid, and the way I eat cereal now.
Then: Open cabinet. Remove Cocoa Pebbles. (There were Trix and Berry Berry Kix phases in there once, too.) Pour a big bowlful. Top with milk. Eat cereal. Pour milk down the drain.
Now: Choose from shelf of selected cereals / granolas which have “passed muster.” Measure out precise serving. Transfer to bowl. Add soy milk. Alternately eat and obssess.
Back then, it didn’t matter to me how many calories’ worth of cereal I had in my bowl. I wasn’t pouring the milk down the drain because I was worried about the calories; it was because I believed (and still do, actually!) that milk’s sole purpose was to moisten cereal, and having done that, it was pretty much useless. I just didn’t like the milk! And it never crossed my mind to concern myself with any possible accidental ingestion of lactic calories, and it never would have occurred to me that it would actually make sense to dilute the milk because of this. (To be fair, I did once eat cereal with orange juice, but only because I’d read about it in a book and was curious. It was, as expected, revolting.) Anyway, my point in all this rambling is that I just wonder where / why / how I got so hopelessly screwed up. Eating cereal (or anything!) ever again in the way I used to do it seems like an impossible feat. It makes me alternately sad and angry, because I just can’t figure out what happened to make me go so wrong.
…And, finally: blackberries!
I can now say with pretty fair certainty that I have never tried blackberries before. I would have remembered!! As it stands, I have a new favorite berry. It used to be raspberries, and they’re still fantastic, but I am now proclaiming my ardor for blackberries!! I just love falling in love with new produce.
Oh, and it turns out that WordPress dumps me in spam. Just a heads-up.