40 days till my Meggie marries the man of her dreams. He looks an awful lot like Eddie Vedder. His name is Chris. My future son in law couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. If you listen to Eddie though, he sounds like he’s sucking on a few marbles when he sings. Which is just fine with me. I think he’s a golden god! I digress. Now back to Chris. The young man loves my daughter with everything he has, so I gotta love him too. I love him even more, because before he asked Meggie to marry him, he asked her dad.
The wedding plans are coming together. Not much to do. Get the dress there, get the license, and make sure that the bridal party gets off the cruise ship on time. We also need to get to the rented beach bungalow, hair/makeup/clothes, catch a taxi and make our way to where the ceremony will take place. Roger Darling is in charge of getting the wedding guests, family, groom and groomsmen to the beach by 10 am.
Roger sent me a text yesterday that said, I love you Mother of the Bride. I sent him a reply that said Olive u 2 Father of the Bride. We’re a couple of dorks, but we’re fun!
When I got home last night, I realized that Meggie’s dress will have to be cleaned and pressed. Then placed in its own suitcase for the trip. I started freaking the hell out. What if it gets ruined at the cleaners? What if the suitcase it’s in gets lost in transit? What if? What if? What if? Roger looked at me and said, Ah hell we’ll rent her a dress on the ship. I totally forgot we could do that. Phew!
In the last few weeks I’ve tried putting on and zipping up my size 12 pants. Seems I’ve grown out of the fuckers. I’m none too pleased by this development. If you’ve been following me for long you know I’ve gone through a huge weight loss. My body and mind have been transformed. The last two years have been quite the roller coaster. Through writing, I’ve been learning to adjust.
Recently I injured my back, got depressed, started drinking again and well, kinda fell apart. Little by little I’ve healed. I’ve recovered in almost every way. Except I still can’t fit into my fucking pants!
Now it’s back to the gym for Roger Darling and me. Time for us to get addicted to something healthy. And though I’m sore from doing 75 ab crunches and reverse sit ups and my legs feel like jello from learning how to run again, I’m elated. Fucking elated, I tell you!!!! I’ve got my gym clothes in the car and I’ll head there right after work today. It feels good to sweat. It feels good to run. It feels good to hurt from a workout. Fucking A it feels good!
I told Super Therapist today as I opened up my palm and pointed at it, “This right here in the palm of my hand is the world. I can do and be anything that I want.”
He just looked at me, smiled and replied, “Yes Renee, you most certainly can and you will.”
Happy Wednesday my sweets. Happy Wednesday. Go grab life by the balls, will ya?