My Mayor Lost

I just did a crazy-ass search and managed to find all the election results for every town in all of Paraguay. The date on the posts was November 28, 2006, so I know they must be official documents for all the elections. The mayor of Santa Maria de Fe, my town, was defeated. He did not win.

Just more information from the universe telling me I made the right choice.

Skiing, pilates, the gym, oh my!

It's that time of year. Everyone is hyper aware of how much they are eating and that it's holiday time and there's sweets everywhere. People are busy and don't have time to cook and there's a party every three days. People get all unhealthy and make excuses. And then the new year hits and gym memberships jump a million percent.

I have always gained a little weight in the winter. Some years more than others. I justify myself by saying, "Oh, I ski every weekend! I walk across the parking lot in ski boots carrying skis and then I ski for 2 or 3 hours and I can feel it in my thighs, so I must be fine." And then I go to happy hour, drink 3 or 4 beers and eat some nachos before heading back to the ski house to eat more bad food and drink a glass of wine while showering and then head out for a couple more beers at the club. All this drinking happens over the course of about 10 hours, so usually I'm never drunk from it all, and between that and the nachos, burger, fries or whatever other crap I eat, the root of those extra pounds aren't really a secret.

This year, for the first time since 2000, I've decided to make a committment to exercise. I first set out to find a regular yoga or pilates class, but they are EXPENSIVE. $15-20 a class no matter where you look, which is $80 a month for only one class a week and that still does nothing for my cardiovascular health or my strength training, which I need now that I'm entering my mid-30s. I shopped around even more. I visited Boston Sports Clubs, with convenient locations at South Station and Downtown Crossing, both very close to work. $129 to join and $69 a month if I sign a year contract! What? Jeez. I shopped around some more. Nothing.

Finally, my roommate, who belongs to the Y here in Dorchester for $40 a month said, how about that little gym down in Lower Mills? I looked them up and they are great. (She is sticking at the Y because they open at 4:30 a.m. or some such craziness and she loves her personal trainer.) The gym is in an old mill, and it's 4 stories, with exposed brick and exposed beams and big, huge windows. There is no sign-up fee and with membership, you get 3 1-hour personal trainer sessions to teach you what you need to know on the machines and help you set goals. All the classes are included in the monthly fee, including pilates, and the whole shebang is $29 a month with a 1-year commitment. Yay.

I have begun a new plan. I do cardio two times a week for 45 minutes on the treadmill. At least one class a week, either pilates or body blast, which is a crazy class with weights and calesthenics and a lazy instructor who only does about 4 and then stops and yells at us to do about 35 more reps. 30 minutes each for upper body strength training, lower body, and abs sometime during the week. Since I am in Vermont every weekend, all this has to be smooshed into 5 days, so I've been there at least 2 mornings before work and 2 nights the last two weeks. And then I still ski on the weekends.

Whenever, in my past, I've linked money to something, I tend to follow through with it. So even though it's only $29, it would kill me to know I was paying that and not using it. Between that and really wanting to be in better shape, I'm pretty sure I'll keep the commitment. I plan on also eating well and laying off the bad stuff, which in the past has always worked, too.

Now let's see if I can lay off the beers. Grin.

Alone again at the holidays

I love my life. I've made lots of choices, lots of decisions and I've crafted a life I really like. I've been on adventures, made worldwide friends, lived on an island, gone barefoot for months, learned Spanish (some, anyway) in a foriegn country, worked some really great jobs and some really challenging ones, lived in the mountains for a ski season, done 800 scuba dives, held newborn babies, been in an Hindu/Catholic wedding, gotten counseling, counseled others, earned a Master's degree, and been loved and have loved.

I don't plan on ending the adventure until I'm dead or until I can't get up because my knees are gone, whatever comes first. I am happy every day. I am a lifelong learner and a lifelong discoverer, and this can keep anyone happy for a long long time.

But there's an underlying unhappiness that stays with me. It's under the surface, but sometimes it stands up and demands to be noticed. Holiday time is usually one of those times. These last few weeks have been hard and the next few will be too and I finally figured that out last night, in a discussion with my mom. I am alone. And every year that passes, I am more and more alone. I will be 34 in 6 weeks and I'm still alone.

I have a personality built for dating and I love to date. I go on them regularly. I use the internet and I'm not ashamed to talk about it. I have no idea how else anyone meets anyone when they are in their late 20s and early 30s. Anyone claiming to just meet people is either a.lying or b.incredibly good looking. Most people are either set up by a friend or marry their friend's brother's roommate or they use the internet. Anyone who says that the internet is a bad way to meet people is either married or stupid.

I like dating. I don't mind coffee or a beer with a stranger. Small talk is not difficult for me (I secretly enjoy it) and why not see what happens? I had some great luck for a while, and met three people in relative succession who I dated. One was not right, one just wasn't that into me and one I left behind because he was all wrong for me. And another, a while after that, ended up returning to a previous relationship even though he professed (and acted as though) he liked me a lot. What to do about any of that? It's all normal.

But, I AM tired of those men who send you a crazy photo they took of themselves that makes their head look triagular and their nose the size of a submarine and then when I send a photo, they suddenly disappear. All of the readers of this know me (more or less). I'm not a beauty queen, but I'm certainly fine-looking, even cute or pretty on a good day and normal on a bad one. What are these men expecting? And why are THEY 34 or 38 and not willing to meet someone and take a chance for an hour on a cup of coffee? Why am I willing to do that with submarine-triangle head, but he isn't?

I want to be in a relationship. But not with the wrong person. So those people who say that I am too picky because I eventually broke up with one guy because he thought homeless people should just get a family member to bail them out and EVERYONE that is homeless has a family member who can do that - you are wrong. I am not too picky. And those who have said I should be more flexible than 10 years in either direction in regards to age - I'm sorry, but am I supposed to be 60 with a husband who is 75? I'm supposed to CHOOSE that? There are some things that are deal-breakers and I just refuse, at this point, to drop all of them because I'm desperate to be with SOMEONE.

That's how I figure I'll end up divorced in 4 years like the other Gen-Xers out there. And, because I don't want kids, I need to be more careful. I can't craft a marriage that relies on kids to keep us from having to deal with each other and/or our marriage. A lot of people do that. They don't know how to fill a rainy afternoon if they didn't have to take a kid somewhere. I won't have that. I need a real partnership and relationship.

And so, if I'm alone forever, I guess that's how it will be. But what will be worse than that is pity. I don't want any. I feel sometimes as I get older that those around me have changed over from "oh, you'll find someone" to "it'll be okay." Or when I used to say I didn't want kids, people would (albeit rudely) say "You'll change your mind" whereas now they say "Oh, really?" I think they think that's a good thing, since I'm so utterly alone and getting older. I project upon others my own fears of what they are thinking, but these ideas are not coming from thin air, they are coming fast and furious from the media, and books, and films. It's REAL.

My dad so wishes I would find someone. He wants me to be okay and happy and he is so aware of his own mortality, that I know he wants this for me sooner than later so that if anything happens to him, he can go knowing I'm okay. I sometimes think about how I want to find my partner and settle down with him even more so that my dad can stop worrying. I've taken on his worry on top of my own. And he will be upset when he reads this and finds out I'm doing that, because he doesn't want to create more pain for me. But he already knows I know and I worry about him. He won't find out here. He'll just read it here, but deep down, he already knows.

My mom: she lets me off the hook. She is my biggest champion and the one who understands me. She was 25 and utterly single in 1970. We are equals in that. I'm 33 and single in 2006. It's the same. I may not even be in as bad shape as she was. So her I don't worry about. She'll just keep by my side as I keep looking and she'll keep answering the phone and listening to whatever helacious date I'm coming home from.

My jury is out on my siblings. I don't know if they know how hard this time is for me. They each have someone this year, for the first time. One got married and the other is with someone he really likes. It's the first year I'm really really alone, without another single sibling. I think that's making it harder.

I have no catchy ending. I have no resolution. I have no plans for New Year's (although that's not new and even married people complain about that). I only have what I know. That's it.