I haven't worked out since before going to California. Not once. I guess you could consider some of the stuff we did in California to be exercise...there were several LONG hikes. But mostly I just ate my way through the Bay Area.
It was glorious.
But also my muscles have completely left the building. I feel like such a weakling.
So tonight The Foliage and I are going for a hike! No idea why, but after metroing and walking through the rain this morning, I had a really intense desire to go for a hike in the rain. So BRING IT NATURE.
Also one week from Friday I'm going to Denver for my organization's quadrannual convention. Three people I grew up with in Ohio now live in Denver. So I sent them a message on Facebook, inviting them out for a drink while I'm there.
Oh, that sounds so simple! So easy and straightforward! Spoiler alert: it was not.
Growing up in a VERY small town in Ohio, I went to the only private Catholic school available. From kindergarten through eighth grade. And I was so unpopular. You can't even possible understand how unpopular.
Which is kind of where this gets convoluted, because was I? I have no idea how much of my social standing was real and how much was completely imagined. Looking back, I know that everyone in my class was very nice. There were some momentary exceptions of not-so-nice, but for the most part, I grew up around kids who were being raised by people who were just as nice as my parents. And I can't remember any out-of-nowhere cruelty. What I DO remember is being the awkwardest, sensitivest, smelliest kid in town.
True story: I still don't use soap. Shampoo, sure (for now...we'll see how this goes in the long term). But soap? What is so wrong with my body that I need to strip it of what it creates every day? I don't trust that jazz. But as a little kid (coughandhighschoolercough) I didn't make much of an effort to even appear clean. I still feel like I'm figuring out hygiene. It's a process. And it involves companies tricking women into thinking they need to spend $20+ to wash their faces.
More different sidenote! Tomorrow I'm going to my first dentist appointment in, like, 10 years. More like 12 or 13. It's hard to be sure. I am not excited about it, but I currently have the baddest ever ass benefits, so I'm taking care of it NOW. Also because The Foliage is making me.
Unpopular. Probably. And I still have so much anxiety surrounding my feelings about my classmates. I mean, from the age of 5 until I was 13...I just felt like a total sh*t. I wasn't invited to parties everyone else was. I didn't have inside jokes with everyone. Everything I said was wrong. Everything I did was weird. I lied a lot. But also had (have) a terrible memory, so I'd get caught all the time. I have more cringe-memories from my time at that school than the rest of the years of my life combined.
But now I am awesome! And I would (ahem) totally marry myself! Clearly these old classmates will be sorry they didn't suck up to me back in the dizzay.
So I realized that these three people now live in Denver. Where I'm going. And I think, "I'll just post a status about how I'm going, and then they can let me know if they want to meet up." But then I think, "Ceej, that is DUMB. You're setting yourself up for disappointment if you expect people to do the work for something they don't even know is happening." And then I ranted to The Foliage in my standard, super calm and thoughtful manner, and he told me to calm down and just ask them out.
OH HO HO JUST ASK THEM OK THAT'S A THING.
Oh. Oh right. That is a thing. That totally sane and reasonable people do. So I composed a message. And then I agonized over the message for approximately 7 jillion hours. While The Foliage patiently listened to me having an out-loud panic attack, and tried to keep the volume of his eye-rolling to a minimum.
And then I hit "send." And I think I died? I'm not sure. I blacked out for a little bit. But then! Like just an hour or so later, one of them replied! And they were all, "Yeah, it'd be great to catch up!" In a totally not weird way! And then I kicked myself for being such a strange, strange, anxious person.
And since then I've been trying to come up with THE perfect "haven't seen you in 13 years and I'm not hitting on you, but don't I seem so TOTALLY KICK ASS now compared to when we were little kids?" outfit. Skinny jeans and boots will probably be involved, and lots of mascara. I mean obviously. And what I'm really trying to say here is I've never been more nervous to go drink in my entire life. Anyone got some valium laying around?