What a wicked game to play. . .

This morning on my walk in the rain to work this morning I was thing about what has become one of the most popular things to do these days. Every woman I know is on some sort of diet these days or at least trying to achieve some better body. And if you can'thold your own in a discussion about what you did at the gym last night or how you're watching what you're eating I can't imagine how boring conversations must be. If you are the kind of person who has an amazing metabolism you certainly don't admit it.

Here's a sampling of some recent conversations

-I call S1 to go to lunch and she says that she has gained 6 pounds and doesn't want to eat out anymore because she's really starting to feel the effects

-Any conversation with S- there is some mention about how she has been slacking off about going to the gym and she has been eating horribly and none of her clothes seem to fit

-J- regularly will say she doesn't feel good, but that she hasn't eaten much today. Seeing as how lunch conversations with her will always involve a discussion about dieting I think the lack of eating has more to do with that then a lack of time.

All these women and good friends are beautiful and have great bodies, S1- is naturally thin and I've had people ask if she spends all her time at the gym. For the record no, but I know for a fact that she doesn't see herself like this at all. S- is strong and has a strong body, but is always trying to work something off. J- and I used to work with a girl who was constantly bouncing from diet to diet and had a model's figure. So I think she developed the same mindset. The women in my department are always talking about working out, we don't have snack days due to the fattening nature of the food, and it seems that it is only acceptable to eat salads at lunch.

Today I was riding the elevator with a coworker from another floor that commented that I had lost a lot of weight, which ended up being one of the highlights of my day. Somone else mentioned the same thing to me last week. People think that I am so confident (I only say this because someone said that they wished they could have the confidence I have). If only they knew. If they knew that I listen to everything that is said and want to look more like they do. That I have the least confidence of anyone I know but I can play it off that everything is cool. Tonight I went shopping with S2- and learning what size she wears I was amazed. We're much closer in size then I ever would have imagined.

I wonder if anyone else notices this. . .this wicked game that women are playing with one another.

Poetry

I posted two of my favorite poems below, because there is little else I have to say right now. The weekend was good, celebrated my birthday Friday night with friends. Got very drunk, and had some excellent conversation with a certain person. I am in emotional unrest, woke up this morning in the worst of moods and spent most of the afternoon trying to figure out if I was really happy or wanted to cry. I guess it's a girl thing.

Happy Birthday to S-! She has now entered the year of old age with me, a quarter of a century. It does sound so much older doesn't it? Now I think I will go and read. Currently reading "The House of Mirth" by Edith Wharton which must sound so tedious and boring, but it is actually really good.

Snow

Snow,
blessed snow,
comes out of the sky
like bleached flies.
The ground is no longer naked.
The groung has on its clothes.
The trees poke out of sheets
and each branch wears the sock of God.

There is hope.
There is hope everywhere.
I bite it.
Someone once said:
Don't bite till you know
if its bread or stone.
What I bite is all bread,
rising, yeasty as a cloud.

There is hope.
There is hope everywhere.
Today God gives milk
and I have the pail.

Anne Sexton

Neutral Tones

We stood by a pond that winter day,
And the sun was white, as though children of God,
And a few leaves lay on the starving sod;
-They had fallen from an ash, and were gray.

Your eyes on me as eyes that rove
Over tedious riddles of years ago;
And some words played between us to and fro
On which lost the more by our love.

The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing
Alive enough to have strength to die;
And a grim of bitterness swept thereby
Like an ominous bird a-wing. . .

Since then, keen lessons that love deceives,
And wrings with wrong, have shaped me
Your face, and the God-curst sun, and a tree,
And a pond edged with grayish leaves.


Thomas Hardy