Oh Lord help me I just ate a brownie. I was never even a brownie fan before. I so don't want to gain this weight back and I don't want to stay stuck here, so close to my dream weight while at the same time feeling like it is so impossibly far away. It's torture in so many ways. Here I am grateful to have lost so much weight all the while feeling like a fraud and waiting for my clothes to get tight again.
I need therapy, good therapy to figure out why I'm sabotaging myself, what I can do to stop this backsliding. I know it's a combination of old bad habits, sugar addiction and complex psychological and biochemical processes. Ah well, so much to do, always so far to go. Bla bla bla.
I've decided to name our newest cat Millie, short for Millicent. I don't know why, I've been rolling a few different names around for two weeks now and tonight this name just kind f gelled. Millie, it's cute and old fashioned, friendly. Now I just have to take a picture of her for you. I also want to scan the pictures of the women we're considering for Irma's replacement. I'd love to get your input here.
I watched a lot of TV tonight. Do you think it's normal to need to kind of lay low for a few days after having teeth pulled? I feel so tired and my mouth is sore. I watched Sex and the City, miraculously HBO returned to airing the show without the Spanish voice-overs. I have always wanted Carrie to be with Big but ya know for once it seemed like the old chemistry they once had wasn't there, like they were phoning it in. Afterwards I watched Iron Jawed Angels and appreciated the fabulous casting, acting, costume, set design and direction. Then afterwards I watched a documentary about the song Strange Fruit. God I love that song, the song you hate to love, the song it hurts to love or sing.
I used to sing Strange Fruit along with Billie Holiday in my car at night when I was in college. I would blast it on my stereo, sing along and cry and cry. This was in the days before antidepressants stole my emotions and made it possible for me to live a little longer in an overwhelmingly feelingful world. I always wanted to perform it but thought people would be bothered by a white gal singing what is so clearly a song about black suffering. After learning that it was written by a white Jewish man and that even Tori Amos covered it, I've changed my mind. What horrible sensitive genius it must have taken to pair fruit and people hanging from trees and write what is such a deceptively simple but totally brutal and moving song.
Southern trees bear strange fruit
Blood on the leaves
Blood at the root
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees
Pastoral scene of the gallant south
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth
The scent of magnolia sweet and fresh
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh
Here is a fruit for the crows to pluck
for the rain to gather
for the wind to suck
for the sun to rot
for the tree to drop
Here is a strange and bitter crop
Composed by Abel Meeropol (aka Lewis Allan)
Originally sung by: Billie Holiday
Isn't this horrible and brilliant at the same time?
This is going to sound so insignificant after that but darn it, Art Bell is going off the air, but wait, the first hour will repeat, yeay. Tomorrow I've got to call some of these poor people back and set up a few more appointments. I want to just clutch at one of the nice women who we've already interviewed, grab one of them and have Irma start training her, but I might as well take advantage of the expensive ad I ran in the paper and see everyone I can while I still can.
Too much sugar, sugar in my tea and not enough water, bleh...