Grittings from the Sticks

So, at the moment I am sitting in front of two box type fans on the highest setting wishing that I was home in my lovely, air-conditioned-DSL-internet-equipped-kitten-filled house. This trip has been absolutely exhausting. I have spent more time in the car the last four days that I have in the last four months. The down side to a lot of it has been being in my Mother's little Corsica. The air conditioner, while functioning, is only doing so at half capacity. The ride over the desert was absolutely abysmal. It was just cool enough to remind you how hot it actually was. The CD player is all screwy too, sometimes it will load other times it won't, generally when it does, it does so when you put in the CD you least want to hear. I am officially sick of the Black Eyed Peas. I didn't think that would ever happen. I am also beyond sick of Blondie and Heather Nova- though the latter has always been one of those Artists I have to be in the right sort of mood to deal with.

On the plus side the last two days we've actually used my Uncle Terry's big beautiful truck to get where we needed to go. It's totally tricked out and fully loaded. It's also roomier than the Corsica, which means that the four of us (Auntie Suzy, Ma, Charity, and I) could travel much more comfortably. That was a relief, as the ride to Plush from Auntie Sue's is about two hours, across desert.

As far as scenery goes, it's not bad; the first part is scraggy brush, scruffy trees, rocks, and sage. About the time you get a view of the tip of Hart Mountain, you get into a more "Hilly Green" sort of landscape. For the largest part of the drive however, there is sand everywhere, which reminds me of home- the ugly part of home that I hate. I am most definitely a "damp-always-green" sort of person. I hate being hot. I hate when you cant hardly breath for the stifling sun. Despite the fact I have been raised around it all of my life, I don't like it. I need to be where gray skies and the rainy drizzle reign supreme; or baring that, somewhere with central air and cell service. That's right, out here you're touch and go most of the way- and about twenty miles outside of Plush you completely lose service. The only net connection is dialup, and you have to get a dish to get even local channels.

All this would be highly amusing if it were happening only to my mother and I got to be tucked away in my own little apartment here_ However, that appears to not be the case anymore. What was originally a decision that only affected my mother this choice to pick up her life and move six hours from the place we've lived most of my life has now turned around and landed squarely in my lap. Because Kadie decided she couldn't move in with me, or rather her parents decided, I cannot afford to stay here. I also cannot afford an apartment on my own. All of this adds up to the fact unless I want to live in my car I can't stay. This then means that all of my Mother's misfortunes in Plush will now be my own.

There are some upsides I suppose, if I go with her that's about $900-1500 a month that we can put away in savings and then put towards the money I have to have upfront for Gastric bypass surgery. Now, for those of you who don't know me, who have no idea, I've struggled with my weight most of my life... well not most of my life, all of my life. I have done every diet, starved myself, binged and purged, and a million other equally unhealthy things, trying to get to a place where I could accept my body for what it was.... The problem is I was working from the outside in. I thought that if I could be thin and beautiful then I would, in turn, be deliriously happy. I would be with men who didn't abuse me, have friends that could love and stand by me no matter what, I would glitter and shine and life would be perfect. If we really want to be honest about it, I thought being thin would make my Daddy love me more. I've finally figured out though, that it isn't about all that. I've gotten to the point that it is much more about being healthy than being thin and at this point... the bypass is like any other tool with the single exception of it being a tool one cannot escape. Its like the treadmill you can't turn into a coat hanger.

That mini-rant aside, the other bonus to going with mother and having it done is that I won't have to answer all of the stupid questions. There are people that I want to know, there are people that I feel need to know, and the rest of the world can fuck itself. It is not with shame that I say this, because I feel that shame is not something that should ever have to be connected to someone doing what is best for them, it is more... about not wanting to deal with idiots. I have finally learned that you cannot educate everyone. Those who want to know, whose lives you can help or change, who want to see the light down this path, they will find their way to me. The rest of the world is still very bigoted, not only in judgment of this surgery but of the overweight in general. We have become so obsessed with being thin and "it" that we've lost sight of what should truly matter in life. Of course there are those people who would say I'm a hypocrite because I fully intend, after I've hit my goal weight, to have breast augmentation as well. To them I say the same thing I've said to the people who love me most, "I've given up cutting, cigarettes, booze and soon food. The least I should get out of that trade off is a decent rack." So there.

Anyway, the kidlets here want to play, I am sure I'll update again in a few days with more trip information and quite possibly pictures! God knows we took enough up there. I just have to get them developed.

Much Love
--Sara