I don’t know what got me on this thought train the other day but I was wondering how old my grandmother (G-ma) was when I was born. She was born on June 27, 1914, I was born on October 11, 1969, so she was 55. This October I’ll be 57, so I’ll be two years older than she was when I was born. That just feels so weird because most of the time I feel like I’m about 15.
As an aside, I had to Google her obituary to find her birth year; I knew it was either 1914 or 1912 and either June or July, and while searching for that I found this:
I don’t know why but “O.C Girl” just gives me giggles. Makes her sound like a troubled party girl (which, to be fair, she kind of was, lol). Here’s what she looked like around the time I was born –
I wish my hair would hurry up and finish turning silver. It’s still so salt and pepper. Growing up I thought she had the most beautiful silver hair and I wanted to look just like her! Also, damn, I wish I had those cheekbones.
ANYWAY. I do think she looks older, there, at least older than I feel like I look now… which at the risk of repeating myself, just feels weird.
—
I had to get on the scale twice the other day to make sure it was reading right. Even the phone app was like “are you sure this is you?”…. haha (?). I mean, I used to have a cat that would sit on my scale and I’d have a list of weigh-ins of about 12 lbs, but yes, phone, this is me. As of this week I’m down 50 POUNDS from when I started on Tirz in January.
Fifty pounds.
I weighed a hundred pounds from roughly 17 to 24. I never thought I’d have 50 lbs to lose, unless I lost a couple of limbs. But metabolism and hormone changes and stress and food allergies and not knowing how to eat any more and just life in general and here we are. Most of the weight I’ve gained, I gained in the last four years since Tim died. I am now about 15 lbs less than I weighed when he died.
Maybe I should think about buying some new pants, now?
—
Thanks to a recommendation from my friend Tarrant, I’ve been seeing a nutritionist for about two months now. I feel kind of stupid being older than my grandmother was when I was born and not knowing how to feed myself, but … here we are. I’ve just fallen into a rut of “well it’s just me so I guess I’ll just snack when I’m hungry” and I don’t really think about what I’m snacking on. It’s just whatever I have in the pantry or fridge… which since January has been an odd mix of things since our town’s grocery store closed and Kroger stopped delivering. It’s hard to get quality fresh food at the drop of a hat. It takes some planning, when really I don’t even like to think about food. I just want someone to put something in front of me that’s tasty and that I’m not allergic to. So having a nutritionist that I check in with every two weeks, where she gives me goals of “so much fiber in every meal” and “so much healthy fat in every meal” has actually been kind of good for me. It feels kind of like taking a class in adequately taking care of a zoo animal, lol. Her assignment to me has been pretty easy, actually. It boils down to “eat the rainbow.”
I had been trying to order from Walmart for food delivery, but their fresh food quality isn’t always… stuff I’d pick out if I were there in person. Fortunately (?) I’ve been having to go into Gainesville once or twice a week lately, so I swing by a grocery store and try to pick up enough fruits and vegetables that I have a colorful variety, a variety I won’t get tired of over five or six days, but not so much a quantity that it’ll go bad before I can finish eating it all. I’m still working on that part… my tortoises have been getting a lot of fruits and vegetables that are teetering on the edge of life. I eat most of a primarily fruit one for breakfast, most of a primarily vegetable one for lunch, and then for dinner either some rice or pasta with peas and mushrooms thrown in.
I’ve got more to say about this but I’m running late for a day of Gainesville errands (including some grocery shopping) so I’ll have to continue another day.