A Knee and a Toe, and a Dog Named Bo

I have been absent this week, I apologize. I have been uninspired. I don't just want to blather on about useless information. That's what Facebook is for!

I have been having an inner battle with myself about going to the gym. I no longer have the excuse that my key card doesn't work, because I went by there when the dude was there and he showed me that I was using it incorrectly. Tonight I went and, since there was only me and one other lady, I took the opportunity to figure out how to use the weight machines. That was supposed to be part of my "orientation",  but dude seems to always be busy with someone else when I am there. I had a good workout tonight, going to be sore in the morning! But I'm also excited about my chance tonight (couldn't have looked stupid in front of the muscle-heads, now could I?) since my foot has been bothering me so much lately, and walking on the treadmill has become painful.

I was cursed with ugly feet. No really. I know everyone says their feet are ugly, but mine take the prize. I have bunions that have always bothered me, but now each step is excruciating. At least my left foot is. Which is problematic in many ways, as I had recently quit step aerobics because my knees hurt so badly, and I thought I'd take up the treadmill instead. It's a vicious cycle: my knees would feel better if I could lose 50+ pounds, but that's hard to do when it hurts to exercise.

I have researched bunionectomies (yes, that's a real procedure) and I will next research good surgeons. Something has to give. I'm not wearing shoes right now, and my big toe is throbbing. Weird.

Last weekend I spent quite a bit of time with John Deere. His mother invited me to their house for Sunday dinner, and that went well. So well that I stayed until after supper! John's mother asked me a lot of questions, friendly questioning, not an interrogation by any means. She mentioned they used to have a dog named Bo, which was the name of The Ex's dog. Add that to the eerily increasing list of similarities. And the fact that John knows The Ex. Remembers him from college. John said he didn't think any less of me.

Monday John and I ventured to a larger town to do some muzzle loader shopping. He did. I looked at just about everything else in the store. But there was Olive Garden and Stone Cold Creamery, so the day wasn't a total waste :) I was glad to spend that particular day with John, as 1/2/12 was one of the dates The Ex and I had picked as a potential wedding date.

This week I need to fill out loan papers, as I'm going to try to refinance my home loan, apply to grad school, and continue to resist temptation at work. No vending machine purchases for me last week! (Well, 1 Diet soda, but definitely no candy bars!) Now if people would please stop making delicious fudge and candy and bringing it to work. Evil, evil people.

This Means War!

This evening my parents, who happened to be in town, stopped by for a few minutes. While here I showed them the picture of The Ex and his new lady. They were as amazed as I to see the changes he's made. But then, they said the unthinkable. The worst thing they could have ever said. The thing that made my heart drop and my palms itch. They said, are you ready for it?

They said it looks like he's lost weight.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

It's not that he didn't need to, because honey, he made me look fit AND trim. It's not because it's healthier for him and will lead to a longer, happier life. It's bad because, because...sniff sniff...I've gained weight since he dumped me. Like a lot. Like a small child. Like a sack of potatoes on steroids.

So, never to be one-upped, this means war. And not with him, because he's not in my life anymore and could look like Richard Simmonds for all I care. (hee hee) But it's war with myself, my emotional eating, and with those pesky fat cells who have grown so comfortable on my person.

It's war with the fact that Christmas is coming, and all the deliciousness that comes with it.

It's war with the fact that I now know how simple it is to make chocolate-dipped potato chips, and I have the makings for a ginormous batch in my kitchen. Right. Now.

It's war with laziness, not wanting to get out in the cold to travel those long, long 4 blocks to the gym.

It's war with giving up because I'm going to die fat and alone anyway. (That's my fallback excuse.)

It's also war with resisting temptation, both with food and looking at The Ex's Facebook page to see if he's posted a new pic. Again not that I care, just that I don't want him to win.

In other news, John Deere and I attended my Sunday School class party last Saturday. He behaved himself marvelously, got to talk shop with a few other farmers, talked about hunting with a few others, and stayed even though I could tell he'd rather have left before I got involved in a game of trivia (always dangerous!) This Friday he's attending my Church staff dinner with me. Such a trooper.

The Redneck and The Nerd

So he listens to Country and I listen to Classical.

So he reads Outdoor Living and I read Agatha Christie.

So he tinkers with tractors and I tinker with the human psyche.

So he drinks Mt. Dew and I drink Trinidadian Coconut Coffee.

So he has never seen a Mel Brooks movie and I can quote them word for word.

So he shoots deer for fun and I cried like a little girl when I accidentally ran over a cat.

So he's never heard of NPR and my weekend isn't complete without "A Prairie Home Companion."

Does that mean we're too different?

From Attorney to Pig Farmer

I know you're not supposed to compare people. You're especially not supposed to compare yourself to others. But the most important may be to not compare the person you're currently dating to your ex. But how can you not? How can you not think, if only once and a while, "Well ________ never did that, said that, wore that, ate that."  What may be even scarier in when the current dude and the ex dude have similarities. Enter Twilight Zone music...doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo...

Similarities between The Ex and Set-up Dude (Hereafter known as John Deere.)
The Ex lived next door to his parents, so does John Deere.
The Ex played saxophone in elementary school, so did John Deere.
The Ex drives a Ford F-150, so does John Deere.
Both were involved in Future Farmers of America in High School.
Both attended Southern Illinois University, majoring in Agriculture.
Both waited until Date #3 to hold my hand. (awwwwwww)

Creepy, huh?

Now for the differences (obviously not all of them, that would take days to list. )
John Deere eats veggies. So far I've seen him eat broccoli and salad. The Ex never ate anything green.
John Deere opens the door for me. Every door, every time. The Ex only opened the door to his Vette, because I couldn't get the stupid thing to recognize my hand and pop open the door.
John Deere listens when I speak. And remembers. He asked me Saturday about something I said a month ago.
John Deere drinks sweet tea. The Ex didn't like tea. Freak.
John Deere doesn't start every sentence with "Mom said", "I was telling Mom", or "You gotta laugh." Nor does he end every sentence with "so..." That drove me nuts!
John Deere doesn't like ketchup. The Ex smothered all meat and potato matter with it.
John Deere reads his Bible. The Ex didn't even know where his was. (At his parent's house. Duh.)

I really am trying not to compare them They are two totally different men, thank goodness! I'm just trying to enjoy this season in my life, no expectations, no time limits, no games.

Let's just see where this goes.